Wear Your Own Armor

I have a good friend and mentor who spent nearly twenty years as a pastor, but still felt like he wasn’t following his exact calling.  He felt like there had to be more that he could do to help people in a real tangible way.  Against conventional wisdom, he took a leap of faith.  He stepped away from the pulpit, and went into the bowels of Hell to snatch the innocent from the filthy depths, literally.  My friend realized he was too old to enlist in the military, but wanted to serve in a similar capacity. 

He put himself through a litany of Department of Defense schools learning counter terrorism, surveillance, rescue, and combat shooting.  He learned tactics, got physically fit, and became the shepherd he wanted to be.  Using his newfound skillsets, he found himself mired in back alleys and brothels in Asia, Africa, and South America to rescue children from sexual slavery.  He rejected the doubters and put action to his faith.  He literally became a light in a very dark place.  His mission offered hope to the hopeless and at times violent justice to those who wished to do evil.

While we were talking on a recent phone call, he was wrestling with the scope of his calling, and what that looks like now that he’s getting older.  During the course of the conversation, he said something that really struck home.  He said that people will often see his path, his capabilities and training—both tactically and theologically—and they will often make suggestions as to what he “should” be doing.  He said he just smiles and nods, and knows that the calling that God placed on his life doesn’t look much like what “normal” people will ever understand.  He’s called for a specific purpose all the same. His mission is his own.  He said “you’ve got to wear your own armor.” 

All too often people will make suggestions out of their own ignorance or presuppositions, but at the core they’re speaking from a place of fear.  They don’t want you to do something they wouldn’t or couldn’t do, so they cast shade or doubt when your passion differs from the easy path.  We’ve all heard the story of David and Goliath, and likely our focus was always on how little ole David was able to kill Goliath with just a sling and a stone. 

The part that always gets me though, is the part where King Saul, out of his own fearfulness, allows a child to do what he was supposed to do.  He clothes David in his personal armor and weaponry, and it swallows David whole.  David reverts to his training.  He relies on his own personal faith and calling based on lived experience.  He sheds the armor that wasn’t his and grabs a staff, the sling, and five smooth stones.  The tools necessary for his trade.  Goliath was just another predator in the way of his flock that had to be culled.  He’d been preparing for this moment his whole life out in the pastures tending to his sheep.

Saul meant well when he tried to give David advice and equipment for the task at hand.  The thing is, had Saul been capable of completing the mission, he’d have done it.  He let his fear and doubt rob himself of that personal glory, and almost robbed the next generation with his discounting of David’s calling.  His counsel was useless.  His armor was worthless if he wasn’t willing to wear it himself.  It’s easy to let other people’s fears dictate our destiny, but you’ve got to stand on your own calling, find your own purpose, and wear your own dang armor.  No one can wear it for you. 

So, next time someone tries to push their fears or faithlessness on to your specific vision or calling, just smile, nod, and then do your own thing.  They mean well, but they don’t see what you see and likely can’t do what you can do.  You’re the person in the arena, they’re not.  We see how it worked out for David, so I have faith if you’ve got a mission that’s specific to you, you’ll find a way to get it done, despite what the naysayers will try to talk you out of. 

I’m proud to be friends with people of both faith AND action.  Rugged men and women who reject the status quos expected of them.  People who don’t play it safe and just live their personal truths despite what society says.  I hope one day to look back and count myself worthy among their company as I find my own way through life and faith.  My calling looks wildly different than the typical person, but it’s mine none the less.  I feel like I’ve lived many different lives and collected experiences and traumas along the way to bolster my personal armor and give myself one heck of a story.  All of these tools are rocks in my sling, weapons for a future war.  As long as I remember I can’t wear someone else’s armor, and have to man up when it’s time to fight, I think things will be ok in the end.