Who am I? I am a soldier.

Who am I?  I am a soldier.  I've never been a real soldier.  Vietnam was going hot and heavy when I came of age for the draft. I had to register for the draft and got a college deferment. Then Richard Nixon was elected President in 1972, and instituted a draft lottery based on birthdays.  My birthday was drawn way down on the list, and I was home free.

Later in college, I almost dropped out and joined the Air Force.  I had a good ASVAB test score, and the recruiter really went after me.  I called mom, and she begged me not to enlist. She cried on the phone.  I decided not to join. Vietnam was still going on.  To Nixon's credit, he soon got us out of that war.  That's as close as I got to being a soldier.

I didn't believe in that war.  Didn't understand and still don't understand why we went over there. Don't understand why we invaded Iraq and Afghanistan either.  I was and am opposed to both wars. To President Obama's credit, he got us out of Iraq and is winding down our involvement in Afghanistan. The only war that makes sense to me is our engagement in World War II which my dad was in.

So I don't know anything about being a real soldier except what my World War II and Vietnam veteran friends tell me, and my son tells me.  He served in the Air Force, and got out after Bill Clinton was elected President. And, I have heard from other veterans and soldiers now serving too. I've read a lot too and enjoy the Military Channel at times. I know a little something about soldiering but have never experienced it.

The Apostle Paul never served in the Roman army either.  But, he certainly knew about soldiering since the Roman armies occupied his world. He called Archippus a fellow soldier.  Paul then considered himself a soldier too. He told Timothy, who never served either, to be a good soldier. "Join with me in suffering, like a good soldier of Christ Jesus. No one serving as a soldier gets entangled in civilian affairs, but rather tries to please his commanding officer" (2 Timothy 2:3-4).

Paul saw the suffering soldiers endured.  No doubt, some of them still carried their wounds. Maybe he saw soldiers who had lost a limb or an eye. Maybe they had visible and also invisible emotional scars. Maybe he was referring to the suffering they endured in training and in battle. One thing about it, good soldiers suffer.

Soldiers of Christ suffer too. There's no way around it.  Suffering is a part of military service.  It's not all peaches and creme.  All you can do is endure it.

Did I enlist as a volunteer or was I drafted into the army of Christ?  That's something to ponder.  In a sense, I was drafted. How could I refuse?  Christ called me to duty. He choose me for service.  I had no choice but to obey the order. How could I dodge the order to serve as a soldier under the flag of the Kingdom of God?  I could've run to Canada to evade the draft. That's what some do.  They run and run from the call of duty to serve the King.

I've known people like that. I knew one man whose wife prayed and prayed. At church prayer meetings, she requested pray for him. He was retired and loved to fish. Sundays were another day to fish.  He seemed miserable to me. God's call was relentless. When the fish weren't biting, all he could do on the lake was to look at the handiwork of the Creator.  Then the Lord sent me to fish for him.  I went fishing with him.  I talked with him about a lot of things including why he was resisting the call. After many months, he said to me, "Preacher, I'm coming to church this Sunday.  Do you think the roof will fall in?"  We laughed.  The roof didn't fall in.  I kept fishing with him and for him. He kept coming to church.  He could run no longer and finally came down the aisle to dedicate himself to

Jesus!  That Sunday, I thought for sure the roof would fall in!  Instead of the roof falling in, my congregation raised the roof!  Lots of tears were shed and rejoicing reigned and especially by his wife. He became my fellow soldier.  He invited all his fishing buddies in his bass club to join him.  A few did.  Oh, and he often fished in the local monthly bass tournament.  But, he always went to church first.  After church, he fished.  Amazingly he won the tournament several times missing the prime morning fishing hours on Sunday morning.  Yea, he was drafted!

But there is an enlistment too.  He had to quit running and enlist. I enlisted to serve too.  I wanted to go.

In this spiritual warfare, my General led me into a lot of battles against the devil. I've been beat up and one time was left for dead. Some of those who I counted as comrades abandoned me. My General and a few precious soldiers, wounded like me, helped me off the field of battle and took me to the hospital tent to recover. They stayed by my side too until I was well enough to go back into the battle again.  And my General never left me either.  I still bear the scars of that battle.

I've tried to please my commanding Officer, but I have to confess.  There have been times I got entangled in civilian affairs.  Those were times when I forgot who I am.  A soldier.  I took unapproved leave time and got tangled up like my fishing line used to get tangled. Fishermen call that a bird's nest.  It's a messed up line, and I got messed up like that.

I worked to please others who I saw as significant and who could advance my standing to become a big shot.  I was miserable.  I found out the hard way that they were using me and didn't care a hoot about me.  As long as I was serving them in order to give them what they wanted which gave me the approval I desperately thought I needed, I was valued. However, the time always came when I goofed up no matter how hard I tried and was of no more use to them.  They cast me away like a trash fish. Like some old carp that wasn't worth keeping.  I'm talking about the church bureaucrats here who I did everything they wanted me to do.  It was painful when they threw me out like garbage. This suffering wasn't from the field of battle.  It was from self-inflicted wounds. I foolishly did this to myself.

I decided to re-up. My General was glad to have me back.  I was glad to be back.  I've learned my lesson.  I seek only to please my commanding Officer.

Who am I?  I am a good soldier.  I serve under His flag, His banner.  My banner is the cross. I'm marching on, marching on. For Christ, I count everything but loss   I'll toil and sing 'neath the the banner of the cross.  That's what good soldiers do. I'm a soldier and a good one at that. That's who I am!