Knowing the enemy

Never let anyone tell you that the devil plays fair. He doesn't. He starts when we're still young, and doesn't give up on his primary objectives till we're beyond his reach. He wants to steal, kill and destroy.

It dawned on me a while back as I was thinking over my youth, that from the start the devil had big plans to mess me up and make me all the less likely to search for a good God. Let me tell you a story that some of you will be familiar with and others will be hearing for the first time.

I was somewhere in that hazy journey between sixth and eighth grade, attending Silver Lakes Middle School. It was a normal middle school, right across the two-lane road from North Lauderdale Elementary where I had entered at third grade, having moved north from Fort Lauderdale, and just a 15 minute walk from home.

I was a 'band geek' following in the footsteps of my older brother and dad. I was not athletic, and had convinced myself that sports were one big ripoff the day a small dark haired kid ran straight up my chest and danced the chacha on my face in the goal during a team soccer match. I told the umpire what I thought of it and my coach told me what he thought of me. I quit that day. I was never an achiever of any kind in the Presidential Physical Fitness Day and was angry about it. I should probably have been forced back to the field so that I would have learned the value of sticking to it, but my mom and dad didn't like seeing their youngest son trampled on anymore than I enjoyed being trampled. And truthfully, I had to choose where they would put their limited resources - band or soccer...I chose the one where I was less likely to be run over.

I was kind of pudgy and had the kind of friendly face that is a blessing as a missionary now but to my way of thinking back then it was a curse cause none of the bad kids were scared of me and none of the pretty girls were interested. I wasn't a fighter or a lover. I was that guy in the corner with a comic book wishing he had laser beam vision so he could melt the teachers he didn't like and save the damsel in distress, wherever she might be.

One beautiful day I walked myself home from school. Just about when I got to the place where the sidewalk crossed the creek behind my subdivision I was stopped in my tracks. From the other direction I hadn't noticed a rather large black guy pedaling along with a smallish black guy with no shirt, on his handle bars. Just as they reached me, the little guy jumped off the handlebars and started punching me in the face like a MMA fighter doing a ground and pound, only I was still standing. I remember not really feeling pain when he hit me, just complete and total surprise.

He must have hit me three or four times when his taller friend, I thought he had to be a high schooler since he was so big, got off the bike and did what I believe the older generations call a 'haymaker'. Just wound back his big right and let her fly, and I didn't even try to duck. That hit hurt. I was on my butt and looking up at a star-filled sky in the middle of the day.

I remember to this day the girl who walked up and started collecting my stuff for me that had scattered all around the scene. She just kept asking me "Why didn't you fight? Why didn't you hit them? How come you didn't defend yourself?"

I didn't know why. I had never been in a fight before. I wasn't one of those kids who grew up in the midwest with five older brothers and a boxing ring in the barn. I wish I had been, but I wasn't. I was shell-shocked. I got myself up and headed home, listening to the guys laugh as they road off and to the other kids laughing, too.

Of course, I was a sight when I got home. I won't go into the rest of the story but I think one of the guys had to go to juvi and I don't remember what happened to the other.

But why am I telling you all about this? Let's go back to the title of the this entry "Knowing the Enemy."

You see, alot of people would say that the incident was just a random act of racially motivated violence. I was a little chubby white kid and they were older violent black guys looking to do harm. Others would say that it was a good example of the kind of racially-charged violence that was caused by years of mistreatment of the black population by whites - hens coming home to roost or something like that.

But I have come to understand the situation in a different way. I know the devil was trying to shape my life...trying to sew an early seed of hate, distrust and bitterness while the soil was still young. I know that for one reason or another, God let the devil do it. Let me share with you the immediate results of this event in my life.

Distrust.

I distrusted black guys from that moment on. Didn't matter if they were more intellectual, clean-cut intelligent black guys or shirtless, tatooed, too much gold wearing black guys. Didn't matter if I knew the guy personally or just saw him in passing at the mall where we hung out. I didn't trust any black guy younger than 40. As far as I was concerned, they were dangerous, mean and looking for a fight - every last one of them! I'd go to the store and pick the register where the white or latino person was working - or the black girl - never the black guy.

Anger.

I was mad. I was angry and didn't know how to express it. I got upset with my parents more often. I got upset with God and wanted an explanation. I for sure was imagining how I could get back at those black guys or just at all black guys in general. I thought up elaborate schemes how I could pay them back...scary stuff...mean stuff...not the kind of thing a young kid should be daydreaming about.

Ruined self-esteem.

I had already felt bad about the way I looked cause my few ventures into romance had been crash and burns before they got off the ground. The girls who had been the objects of my young heart's desire had always turned me down to be with 'jocks'. My few attempts at a sport of any kind had ended miserably. Now, I couldn't even defend myself...and I was alone. Let me make this picture pristinely clear for you all - whenever I went to the beach, I wore a shirt into the water. Seriously, I was messed up.

I hated the way I looked and I was upset with God for years for making me that way. I was jealous of the guys in good shape and wished I could do something to change the way I was - but instead of changing I would just watch movies...and tv...lots and lots of movies and tv. I would suffer with self-esteem issues for most of my life.

Now tell me, does this guy sound like an ideal candidate to be a conduit of God's love and acceptance to all? Hardly.

And that's just it. That's what the devil was after...he sought to take me out of the game before I even got warmed-up. Trust me, if I had let bitterness, resentment and hatred towards young black men remain in my heart and mind, it would have crippled me in any ministry and in my own relationship with God.

Thankfully, God had other plans.

You see, God had given me to believing parents. He had secured a faithful couple of youth leaders and youth group members around me. He had given me a couple believing friends (shout out to deb!!) who looked out for me in middle school. All the while, He was there.

Sometime near the end of high school and just after, God made these problems clear to me. I began to understand that I needed to confront my attitude towards black men. I had to get to the place where I could love them with the love of God and not let the devil hold me back.

If I were to ignore these wrong ways of thinking, how could I ever understand forgiveness, acceptance and unconditional love? And the devil knew these things would be necessary for me in the future...and was already working in the fifth grade to keep them from me!

Can you imagine that? You need to. If you're a parent you should make it a matter of daily prayer. God has promised to be our secure tower, our fortress, our defender. But as little children, our kids often do not think about things in that way. We need to help them know who they are as soon as possible. We need to put the weapon of proclaiming God's Word in their hands as soon as we can.

My son is only 18 months old. My second is on his way and will be here in two months. I'm already thinking about them and what will happen in their lives. I'm not able to be with them 24/7, but His word can be. His Spirit will be. My prayer is that God will show me what's happening in their lives spiritually as they encounter difficulties. I want to know when the devil is trying to sew seeds to reap a harvest of death in their lives...and get good seeds in there first.

Today, I am not aware of any hatred or bitterness in my heart for anyone. I asked God to forgive me for holding it in a long time ago. I asked God to give me some measure of His love for anyone I would meet in life - old, young, rich, poor, beautiful or ugly.

I'm 32 now. I can honestly say I'm often radical in the love I share with others, and go out of my way to express it. This is the fruit of His labor in my life. The devil still tries to get an inroad from time to time, but I'm convinced that He is keeping this field, and will continue to keep it till it's out of the devil's reach.

Blessings to you all!
corey