F.B. Meyer wrote,
“We should be merciful to those who have sinned because we don’t know how hard they tried not to sin nor the forces arrayed against them before they sinned.”
That settled into my spirit like a healing balm.
For decades, I had viewed myself as a weak loser. Time and again, I had given in to the temptation to “act out” my addiction. But each stumble was preceded by a fight.
I would start every morning praying that today would be different. Today I would overcome the temptation waiting around some corner. When the idea finally presented itself, I would resist and sweat — before finally falling yet again.
In bed at the end of the day, I would cry out for forgiveness and healing, begging for strength to overcome tomorrow.
I fasted and prayed.
I went to conferences.
I read books.
I fought every way I could think to fight.
But defeat was my constant companion.
The outside world sees only the fall.
They say you failed.
You’re weak.
You didn’t want it badly enough.
Praise God, He sees the fight.
He notices the resistance.
He sees the sweat.
He records the attempts — not just the results.
And He weeps with me.
I’ve come to believe that the enemy’s greatest weapon isn’t the temptation itself, but convincing me that the fight didn’t matter.
That lie is deflating. It whispers that I should give up.
But the voice of God tells me a different story. He says, “Press on.” (Philippians 3:14)
“Press on” doesn’t always mean white-knuckled striving; sometimes it means continuing to show up even when you’re tired, disappointed, or unsure.
“For I know the plans that I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope.” —Jeremiah 29:11
The fight is not in vain.
It doesn’t matter that I can’t yet see the victory. It may be just over the horizon.
So I will not give up the fight.
Because the One who calls me forward is still in the fire with me.