V Battle Quotes

You know so little of war. Battles may be fought from the outside in, but wars are won from the inside out.

Life—the way it really is—is a battle not between Bad and Good, but between Bad and Worse. —Joseph Brodsky

I am afeard there are few die well that die in battle, for how can they charitably dispose of anything when blood is their argument?

Battles may be fought from the outside in, but wars are won from the inside out.

Though you might conquer in battle A thousand times a thousand men, You're the greatest battle-winner If you conquer just one - yourself.

Halt waited a minute or two but there was no sound except for the jingling of harness and the creaking of leather from their saddles. Finally, the former Ranger could bear it no longer. What?” The question seemed to explode out of him, with a greater degree of violence than he had intended. Taken by surprise, Horace’s bay shied in fright and danced several paces away. Horace turned an aggrieved look on his mentor as he calmed the horse and brought it back under control. What?” he asked Halt, and the smaller man made a gesture of exasperation. That’s what I want to know,” he said irritably. “What?” Horace peered at him. The look was too obviously the sort of look that you give someone who seems to have taken leave of his senses. It did little to improve Halt’s rapidly growing temper. What?” said Horace, now totally puzzled. Don’t keep parroting at me!” Halt fumed. “Stop repeating what I say! I asked you ‘what,’ so don’t ask me ‘what’ back, understand?” Horace considered the question for a second or two, then, in his deliberate way, he replied: “No.” Halt took a deep breath, his eyebrows contracted into a deep V, and beneath them his eyes with anger but before he could speak, Horace forestalled him. What ‘what’ are you asking me?” he said. Then, thinking how to make the question clearer, he added, “Or to put it another way, why are you asking ‘what’?” Controlling himself with enormous restraint, and making no secret of the fact, Halt said, very precisely: “You were about to ask me a question.” Horace frowned. “I was?” Halt nodded. “You were. I saw you take a breath to ask it.” I see,” Horace said. “And what was it about?” For just a second or two, Halt was speechless. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then finally found the strength to speak. That is what I was asking you,” he said. “When I said ‘what,’ I was asking you what you were about to ask me.” I wasn’t about to ask you ‘what,’” Horace replied, and Halt glared at him suspiciously. It occurred to him that Horace could be indulging himself in a gigantic leg pull, that he was secretly laughing at Halt. This, Halt could have told him, was not a good career move. Rangers were not people who took kindly to being laughed at. He studied the boy’s open face and guileless blue eyes and decided that his suspicion was ill-founded. Then what, if I may use that word once more, were you about to ask me?” Horace drew a breath once more, then hesitated. “I forget,” he said. “What were we talking about?

When you battle for something it is like you are trying to push your realization into the alternatives space, whereas when you choose something the space comes to you.

That's the way all life's battles are won.. You don't look at the overall picture. You take one step, then another, and another... until you arrive at your destination.

O God of battles, steel my soldier's hearts. Possess them not with fear. Take from them now The sense of reckoning ere th' opposed numbers Pluck their hearts from them.

The master class has always declared the wars; the subject class has always fought the battles.

God's will! my liege, would you and I alone, Without more help, could fight this royal battle!

I'll have to remember that for the future. When in a life-or-death battle, be sure to club unconscious everyone on your side as early on in the fight as possible," Laura said, laughing.

It is time to renew the battle for reproductive rights. We have been outmaneuvered, outspent, outpostured, and outvoted by a group of single-issue activists. It has taken them nearly two decades to turn back the principles of Roe. Let's make sure it takes us a shorter time to replace protection for reproductive choice.

Do you really want to know why you lost?” I asked. “Do you really have an answer?” he countered. “You need to get off your horse and run with your men. You don’t have the stamina for a long fight. And find a lighter sword.” “But it was my uncle’s.” “You’re not your uncle.” “But I’m the King, and this is the King’s sword,” Cahil said. His brows creased together. He seemed confused. “So wear it to your coronation,” I said. “If you use it in battle, you’ll be wearing it to your funeral,” I said.

What programmer didn’t live with a deadline over his head?

But it was a gift. Not a game, or a war, not a battle of wills. Just a gift. Time, and memory, like lovers in a fable.

There's other ways to protect yourself and your family, Arlen. Wisdom. Prudence. Humility. It's not brave to fight a battle you can't win.

But if the cause be not good, the king himself hath a heavy reckoning to make, when all those legs and arms and heads, chopped off in battle, shall join together at the latter day and cry all 'We died at such a place;' some swearing, some crying for a surgeon, some upon their wives left poor behind them, some upon the debts they owe, some upon their children rawly left. I am afeard there are few die well that die in a battle; for how can they charitably dispose of anything, when blood is their argument? Now, if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter for the king that led them to it; whom to disobey were against all proportion of subjection.

We all have battle scars. People in our past.

The working class who fight the battles, the working class who make the sacrifices, the working class who shed the blood, the working class who furnish the corpses, the working class have never yet had a voice in declaring war.

Henry V and the Battle of Agincourt.

Stars! It looks as if you're winking amused at the idiocy of the people on this earth. You have every reason to laugh. You saw the battle that happened a hundred years ago, and the blood that flooded the ground a long time afterwards. You wonder why there should be so much enmity among human beings, so much carnage and bloodshed. And why this should be known as heroism!" "Even after a man has been dead a hundred years, people continue to hate him. This is an enemy's pallipadai where people gather to torture the living in name of the dead. Stars in the sky! Why wouldn't you laugh! Laugh!

Freedom is yours when you end the battle. As you can see, the answer is short

That idiot...why a battle challenge on live T.V.

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother. —SHAKESPEARE, Henry V, Act IV, Scene 3

When we focus on winning the battle for material gains,we end up losing spiritual war.If we had a better self of ethics we would be better prepared to deal with the complicated world in which we find ourselves.

The world is a mirror that reflects your relationship to it. When you are discontent with the world, it turns away from you. When you fight the world it fights you back. When you end the battle the world meets you halfway.

We all have battle scars," she says. "People in our past." "You too?" he asked, and for a moment, she is in New Orleans, the room in disarray, those green eyes black with rage as the building begins to burn. "Yeah" she said softly.

Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God’s” (v. 15). This verse is the middle verse of the Old Testament and rightly so, for it gives the assurance that when we trust in God He will fight for us. The battle is not ours; it is His.

I. Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led; Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie! II. Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o' battle lour: See approach proud Edward's pow'r-- Chains and slaverie! III. Wha will be a traitor-knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave! Let him turn and flee! IV. Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand, or freeman fa', Let him follow me! V. By oppression's woes and pains! By our sons in servile chains! We will drain our dearest veins, But they shall be free! VI. Lay the proud usurpers low! Tyrants fall in every foe! Liberty's in every blow!-- Let us do or die!

Contrary to popular belief, all gestures of altruism originate in the mind, not the heart. The heart will do anything possible to achieve its innermost goal, but if the goal serves someone else instead it will lose all interest and leave the mind free to exhaust itself battling to find the solution to its one task.

With the demon gone, the angels turned to watch the scene of redemption in front of them, always eager to see another soul forgiven and welcomed into the courts of the King. Eli laughed as joy flooded him. The prayer of salvation, the rejoicing as lost children were welcomed home, brought sweet delight. Sim joined him, his brown eyes filling with tears. As the strain of the battle faded, they put up their swords for the moment. They joined in a prayer of thanksgiving and raised their hands to worship the Creator,

The person who loses their temper loses the battle.

Life—the way it really is—is a battle not between good and bad, but between bad and worse" -Joseph Brodsky

Follow the plan until it goes to shit, and then kill everything that isn’t human.

Freedom is yours when you end the battle.

There’s an old saying on Earth to the effect that in a kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.

You cannot fight against God 's anointing and win because God already decree this. Wherever God decides to fight for someone, The battle is always short and victory is assured.

I would be there, too, long after the armies had parted ways. I would pick up the pieces their senseless fighting had brought on.

It was ridiculous. Unfounded. A battle cry for the discontent, an excuse to cause chaos and call it change. But there were people—bitter, angry, powerless people—who were beginning to listen.

There was no clear-cut moment of victory for the British. They really won when Sea Lion was called off, but this Hitler backdown was a secret. The Luftwaffe kept up heavy night raids on the cities, and this with the U-boat sinkings made the outlook for England darker and darker until Hitler attacked the Soviet Union. But the Luftwaffe never recovered from the Battle of Britain. This was one reason why the Germans failed to take Moscow in 1941. The blitzkrieg ran out of blitz in Russia because it had dropped too much of it on the fields of Kent and Surrey, and in the streets of London.—V.H.

Jacob Battles the Angel: Or, On the Idea of "You" I. That which is furthest from me, is being closer to me, is named “you.” See how I came to wrestle with myself. In me wrestled “you,” “you,” eyelid, you wrestled, you, hand, you, leg, you wrestled and though I was lying down, I ran around and around my name. Only to myself can I not say “you.” Everything else, including my soul, is “you.” You, O soul. II. – You laughed. I denied it and said: – No, I didn’t. For I was afraid. But he said, Yes, you did. And truly, the name, leaning like my body was his oaken cane, hurled itself against him, the one without a name, the one nothing but body, against “you,” the body of all names, against “you, the father of all names. But he when the dawn poured forth stopped thinking of me. He forgot. III. – Change your name, he said. I responded: I am my name. – Change your name, he said. I responded: – You want me to be someone else, you want me to be no more, you want me to die and be no more. How can I change my name? IV. He said: – You were born on my lap. I have know you since you were born. Do not fear death, remember how you were before you were born. For that is what you will be after you die. Change your name. V. – You cried. I denied it and said: – No, I didn’t. For I was afraid. But he said, Yes, you did, and stopped thinking of me. He forgot. VI. I am only my name. The rest is “you,” I told him. He didn’t hear me, for his mind was elsewhere. Why else would he have said: You wrestled the word itself and won! Was he the word itself? Is name word? … He who is only “you,” you and you and you and you, who surrounds my name?

Something creaked beneath me! A soft step on rotting wood! I jumped startled, scared, and turned, expecting to see-God knows what! Then I sighed, for it was only Chris standing in the gloom, silently staring at me. Why? Did I look prettier than usual? Was it the moonlight, shining through my airy clothes? All random doubts were cleared when he said in a voice gritty and low, "You look beautiful sitting there like that." He cleared the frog in his throat. "The moonlight is etching you with silver-blue, and I can see the shape of your body through your clothes." Then, bewilderingly, he seized me by the shoulders, digging in his fingers, hard! They hurt. "Damn you, Cathy! You kissed that man! He could have awakened and seen you, and demanded to know who you were! And not thought you only a part of his dream!" Scary the way he acted, the fright I felt for no reason at all. "How do you know what I did? You weren't there; you were sick that night." He shook me, glaring his eyes, and again I thought he seemed a stranger. "He saw you, Cathy-he wasn't soundly asleep!" "He saw me?" I cried, disbelieving. It wasn't possible . . . wasn't! "Yes!" he yelled. This was Chris, who was usually in such control of his emotions. "He thought you a part of his dream! But don't you know Momma can guess who it was, just by putting two and two together-just as I have? Damn you and your romantic notions! Now they're on to us! They won't leave money casually about as they did before. He's counting, she's counting, and we don't have enough-not yet!" He yanked me down from the widow sill! He appeared wild and furious enough to slap my face-and not once in all our lives had he ever struck me, though I'd given him reason to when I was younger. But he shook me until my eyes rolled, until I was dizzy and crying out: "Stop! Momma knows we can't pass through a looked door!" This wasn't Chris . . . this was someone I'd never seen before . . . primitive, savage. He yelled out something like, "You're mine, Cathy! Mine! You'll always be mine! No matter who comes into your future, you'll always belong to me! I'll make you mine . . . tonight . . . now!" I didn't believe it, not Chris! And I did not fully understand what he had in mind, nor, if I am to give him credit, do I think he really meant what he said, but passion has a way of taking over. We fell to the floor, both of us. I tried to fight him off. We wrestled, turning over and over, writhing, silent, a frantic strug- gle of his strength against mine. It wasn't much of a battle. I had the strong dancer's legs; he had the biceps, the greater weight and height . . . and he had much more determination than i to use something hot, swollen and demanding, so much it stile reasoning and sanity from him. And I loved him. I wanted what he wanted-if he wanted it that much, right and wrong. Somehow we ended up on that old mattress-that filthy, smelly, stained mattress that must have known lovers long before this night. And that is where he took me, and forced in that swollen, rigid male sex part of him that had to be satisfied. It drove into my tight and resisting flesh which tore and bled. Now we had done what we both swore we'd never do.

The bane of mankind is thus come, I have told you, what (was fixed) when your navel-cord was cut is thus come, I have told you. The darkest day of mortal man has caught up with you, the solitary place of mortal man has caught up with you, NI v 20 the flood-wave that cannot be breasted has caught up with you, the battle that cannot be fled has caught up with you, the combat that cannot be matched has caught up with you, the fight that shows no pity has caught up with you!

When something doesn’t go your way, you respond with humor and wit instead of anger and emotion. You understand that your energy is better suited for the big battles—such as job layoffs or family deaths—and not for rejections by strangers.

After Chaucer’s death, Henry IV offered his position to Christine de Pizan, no doubt hoping that as she was a widow and her only child, her sixteen-year-old son, was effectively a hostage in his household, she could be persuaded to agree. If so, he completely misjudged this redoubtable woman, who had once replied to criticism “that it was inappropriate for a woman to be learned, as it was so rare . . . that it was even less fitting for a man to be ignorant, as it was so common.

General Garrison assembled all of the men for a memorial service, and captured their feelings of sadness, fear, and resolve with the famous martial speech from Shakespeare’s Henry V: Whoever does not have the stomach for this fight, let him depart. Give him money to speed his departure since we wish not to die in that man’s company. Whoever lives past today and comes home safely will rouse himself every year on this day, show his neighbor his scars, and tell embellished stories of all their great feats of battle. These stories he will teach his son and from this day until the end of the world we shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; for whoever has shed his blood with me shall be my brother. And those men afraid to go will think themselves lesser men as they hear of how we fought and died together.

At the end of his life, Stalin was at the pinnacle of his power. His authority was unassailable and not under threat from any source. But he did not feel that way. Like other dictators, he never stopped fighting for power and never quite trusted his subjects. The methods he used in his never-ending battle for power were universal and simple. They included the elimination of any potential threat from within his inner circle, unrelenting oversight of the secret police, the encouragement of competition and mutual control among the various components of government, and the mobilization of society against perceived enemies both internal and external.

He could feel the end of the battle approaching, and so could the blur of the Sith he faced in the Force, the shadow had become a pulsar of fear. Easily, almost effortlessly, he turned the shadow's fear into a weapon: he angled the battle to bring them both out onto the window ledge. Out in the wind. Out with the lightning. Out on a rain-slicked ledge above a half kilometer drop. Out where the shadow's fear's fear made it hesitate. Out where the shadow's fear turned some of it's Force-powered speed into a Force-powered grip on the slippery permacrete. Out where Mace could flick his blade in one precise arc and slash the shadow's lightsaber in half. One piece flipped back in through the cut open window. The other tumbled from opening fingers, bounced on the ledge, and fell through the rain towards the distant alleys below. Now the shadow was only Palpatine: old and shrunken, thinning hair bleached white by time and care, face lined with exhaustion. 'For all your power, my lord,you are no Jedi. All you are, my lord,' Mace said evenly, staring past his blade, 'is under arrest.

And so it was with the Broad Street well that the decision to remove the pump handle turned out to be more significant than the short-term effects of that decision [Cholera outbreak abated.] . . . .But the pump handle stands for more than that local redemption. It marks a turning point in the battle between urban man and V. cholerae, because for the first time a public institution had made an informed intervention into a cholera outbreak based on a scientifically sound theory of the disease. . . . For the first time, the V. cholerae's growing dominion over the city would be challenged by reason, not superstition.

You cannot win the war. You will seem to win but it will be an illusion. You will win the battles, kill billions, rape Worlds, take slaves, and destroy ships and weapons. But after that you will be forced to hold the subjection. Your numbers will not be expendable. You will be spread thin, exposed to other cultures that will influence you, change you. You will lose skirmishes, and in the end you will be forced back. Then will come a loss of old ethics, corruption and opportunism will replace your honor and you will know unspeakable shame and dishonor... your culture will soon be weltering back into a barbarism and disorganization which in its corruption and despair will be nothing like the proud tribal primitive life of its first barbarism. You will be aware of the difference and unable to return.

free.” On the edge of town, Fitzgerald saw a sight “that has never left my memory. It was a picture story of the death of one 82nd Airborne trooper. He had occupied a German foxhole and made it his personal Alamo. In a half circle around the hole lay the bodies of nine German soldiers. The body closest to the hole was only three feet away, a potato masher [grenade] in its fist.II The other distorted forms lay where they had fallen, testimony to the ferocity of the fight. His ammunition bandoliers were still on his shoulders, empty of M-1 clips. Cartridge cases littered the ground. His rifle stock was broken in two. He had fought alone and, like many others that night, he had died alone. “I looked at his dog tags. The name read Martin V. Hersh. I wrote the name down in a small prayer book I carried, hoping someday I would meet someone who knew him. I never did.”34

The accident bears some remarkable similarities to Chernobyl’s 1986 disaster. Leningrad’s Unit 1 was restarting after routine maintenance and had reached 800MW when operators disconnected one of its two turbines due to a fault. To keep the reactor stable, power was reduced to 500MW and then the evening shift handed over the reins to the night shift. At 2am, someone in the control room disconnected the only remaining turbine by accident, tripping the emergency computer system and automatically shutting down the reactor. Reactor poisoning began (I’ll explain this in more detail later), leaving the operators with a choice of battling the reactor back to full power or allowing it to shut down, but there would be repercussions for allowing it to happen at all. They chose - just as at Chernobyl over a decade later - to raise the power. It didn’t go well. “During rising to power after shutdown, without any operator’s actions to change reactivity (without lifting any rods) the reactor would suddenly reduce acceleration time by itself, i.e., inadvertently accelerate; in other words, it would try to explode,” says V. I. Boretz, a trainee from Chernobyl who happened to be on this shift.

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I began to see that the stronger a therapy emphasized feelings, self-esteem, and self-confidence, the more dependent the therapist was upon his providing for the patient ongoing, unconditional, positive regard. The more self-esteem was the end, the more the means, in the form of the patient’s efforts, had to appear blameless in the face of failure. In this paradigm, accuracy and comparison must continually be sacrificed to acceptance and compassion; which often results in the escalation of bizarre behavior and bizarre diagnoses. The bizarre behavior results from us taking credit for everything that is positive and assigning blame elsewhere for anything negative. Because of this skewed positive-feedback loop between our judged actions and our beliefs, we systematically become more and more adapted to ourselves, our feelings, and our inaccurate solitary thinking; and less and less adapted to the environment that we share with our fellows. The resultant behavior, such as crying, depression, displays of temper, high-risk behavior, or romantic ventures, or abandonment of personal responsibilities, which seem either compulsory, necessary, or intelligent to us, will begin to appear more and more irrational to others. The bizarre diagnoses occur because, in some cases, if a ‘cause disease’ (excuse from blame) does not exist, it has to be 'discovered’ (invented). Psychiatry has expanded its diagnoses of mental disease every year to include 'illnesses’ like kleptomania and frotteurism [now frotteuristic disorder in the DSM-V]. (Do you know what frotteurism is? It is a mental disorder that causes people, usually men, to surreptitiously fondle women’s breasts or genitals in crowded situations such as elevators and subways.) The problem with the escalation of these kinds of diagnoses is that either we can become so adapted to our thinking and feelings instead of our environment that we will become dissociated from the whole idea that we have a problem at all; or at least, the more we become blameless, the more we become helpless in the face of our problems, thinking our problems need to be 'fixed’ by outside help before we can move forward on our own. For 2,000 years of Western culture our problems existed in the human power struggle constantly being waged between our principles and our primal impulses. In the last fifty years we have unprincipled ourselves and become what I call 'psychologized.’ Now the power struggle is between the 'expert’ and the 'disorder.’ Since the rise of psychiatry and psychology as the moral compass, we don’t talk about moral imperatives anymore, we talk about coping mechanisms. We are not living our lives by principles so much as we are living our lives by mental health diagnoses. This is not working because it very subtly undermines our solid sense of self.

When the battle resumed in 1995, the Court’s target was an obscure federal statute that barred possession of guns near school buildings. Since every state had a similar law, the fate of the federal law, the Gun-Free School Zones Act, was of little moment. Nonetheless, the decision invalidating the statute, United States v. Lopez, ushered in the Rehnquist Court’s federalism revolution. Writing for the majority, Chief Justice Rehnquist said that to uphold the statute would be to blur the “distinction between what is truly national and what is truly local.” This analysis implied an end to the long period during which the Court permitted Congress to decide for itself whether the distinction between national and local mattered for any particular piece of legislation. The vote was 5 to 4, with the dissenters quick to point out the implications. Justice Souter warned that “it seems fair to ask whether the step taken by the Court today does anything but portend a return to the untenable jurisprudence from which the Court extricated itself almost sixty years ago.” There followed, in quick succession, a series of closely divided decisions that constricted congressional authority not only under the Commerce Clause but also under the Fourteenth Amendment. Section 5 of the Fourteenth Amendment gives Congress “the power to enforce, by appropriate legislation, the provisions of this article”—namely, the guarantees of due process and equal protection provided by the amendment’s Section 1.

ANOTHER GALAXY, ANOTHER TIME. The Old Republic was the Republic of legend, greater than distance or time. No need to note where it was or whence it came, only to know that … it was the Republic. Once, under the wise rule of the Senate and the protection of the Jedi Knights, the Republic throve and grew. But as often happens when wealth and power pass beyond the admirable and attain the awesome, then appear those evil ones who have greed to match. So it was with the Republic at its height. Like the greatest of trees, able to withstand any external attack, the Republic rotted from within though the danger was not visible from outside. Aided and abetted by restless, power-hungry individuals within the government, and the massive organs of commerce, the ambitious Senator Palpatine caused himself to be elected President of the Republic. He promised to reunite the disaffected among the people and to restore the remembered glory of the Republic. Once secure in office he declared himself Emperor, shutting himself away from the populace. Soon he was controlled by the very assistants and boot-lickers he had appointed to high office, and the cries of the people for justice did not reach his ears. Having exterminated through treachery and deception the Jedi Knights, guardians of justice in the galaxy, the Imperial governors and bureaucrats prepared to institute a reign of terror among the disheartened worlds of the galaxy. Many used the Imperial forces and the name of the increasingly isolated Emperor to further their own personal ambitions. But a small number of systems rebelled at these new outrages. Declaring themselves opposed to the New Order they began the great battle to restore the Old Republic. From the beginning they were vastly outnumbered by the systems held in thrall by the Emperor. In those first dark days it seemed certain the bright flame of resistance would be extinguished before it could cast the light of new truth across a galaxy of oppressed and beaten peoples … From the First Saga Journal of the Whills

The ethnics caught up in the racial struggies oi the post-war period in Chicago were in the unenviable position of people who had the rules changed on them in mid-game. The Poles who settled Calumet Park as Sobieski Park had created their neighborhood enclaves under certain assumptions, all of which got changed when the environmentalist East Coast WASP internationalist establishment took power in 1941. Not only hadn’t they been informed of the rule change, they were doubly vulnerable because compared to their opponents who were further along on the scale of assimilation, they didn’t have a clear sense of themselves as Poles or Catholics or Americans or “white” people. They also feared the sexual mores of the invading black hordes but could not articulate this fear in polite language. As a result, each attempt to explain their position drove them further beyond the pale of acceptable public discourse. More often than not, the only people who were articulating their position were the American Civil Liberties Union and American Friends Service Committee agents sent into their neighborhoods to spy on them. One AFSC spy reported that fear of intermarriage “caused the intensity of feelings” in Trumbull Park.* Black attempts to use the community swimming pool were similarly seen in a sexual light. The ACLU agent who was paid to infiltrate bars in South Deering reported that the real motivation behind Brown v. Board of Education, the Supreme Court’s landmark 1954 decision mandating desegregation of Southern schools, was to move “niggers into every neighborhood” to intermarry and thereby send the “whole white race . . . downhill.” Deprived of their ethnic designation as Catholic by a Church that was either hostile (as in the case of Catholic intellectuals) or indifferent (as in the case of the bishops and their chancery officials), Chicago ethnics, attempting to be good Americans, chose to become “white” instead, a transformation that not only guaranteed that they would lose their battle in the court of public opinion, but one which also guaranteed that they would go out of existence as well, through the very assimilation process being proposed by their enemies.

So his armorbearer said to [Jonathan], “Do all that is in your heart. Go then; here I am with you, according to your heart.” 1 SAMUEL 14:7 Five simple monosyllables—“here I am with you”—but they helped make the difference between success and failure. Jonathan had already won a battle, for which his father, King Saul, took the credit (1 Sam. 13:1–4), but he didn’t care who got the credit so long as God received the glory and Israel was protected. As God’s people, we have always been in conflict with the enemies of the Lord and we have always been outnumbered. There were three kinds of Israelites on the battlefield that day, just as there are three kinds of “Christian soldiers” in the church today. There are those who do nothing. King Saul was sitting under a tree, surrounded by six hundred soldiers, wondering what to do next. Leaders are supposed to use their offices and not just fill them (1 Tim. 3:13). God had given Saul position and authority but he seemed to have no vision, power, or strategy. He was watching things happen instead of making things happen, and spectators don’t make much progress in life. Along with Saul and his small army were a number of Israelites who had fled the battlefield and hidden themselves, and some had even surrendered to the enemy! When Jonathan and his armorbearer started defeating the Philistines and the Lord shook the enemy camp, these quitters came out into the open and joined in the battle. Do you know any Christians like that? Are you one of them? There are those who fear nothing. Jonathan had already won a battle against the Philistines and was a man of faith who was certain that the God of Israel would give his people victory. Perhaps he was leaning on God’s promises in Leviticus 26:7–8, “You will chase your enemies, and they shall fall by the sword before you. Five of you shall chase a hundred, and a hundred of you shall put ten thousand to flight.” He assured his armorbearer that “nothing restrains the LORD from saving by many or by few” (1 Sam. 14:6). Jonathan expected God to give him a sign that his strategy was right, and God did just that (vv. 9–14). God also caused an earthquake in the enemy camp that made the Philistines panic, and they began to attack each other; and the enemy army began to melt away (v. 16). There are those who hold back nothing. Jonathan’s armorbearer is mentioned nine times in this narrative but his name is never revealed. Like many people in Scripture, he did his job well but must remain anonymous until he is rewarded in heaven. Think of the lad who gave his lunch to Jesus and he fed five thousand people (John 6:8–11), or the Jewish girl who sent Naaman to Elisha to be healed of his leprosy (2 Kings 5:1–4), or Paul’s nephew whose fast action saved Paul’s life (Acts 23:16–22). The armorbearer encouraged Jonathan and promised to stand by him. All leaders, no matter how successful, need others at their side who can help expedite their plans. Aaron and Hur held up Moses’s hands as he prayed for Joshua and the Jewish army in battle (Exod. 17:8–16), and Jesus asked Peter, James, and John to watch with him as he prayed in the garden (Matt. 26:36–46). Blessed are those leaders who have dependable associates whose hearts are one with theirs and who hold back nothing but devotedly say, “I am with you.” Jesus says that to us and he will help us to say it to others. I am with you always, even to the end of the age. Matthew 28:20

Orion threw a grin back at me as headed to the bar, ducking behind it. “What would madam like?” he asked in a formal tone which was a damn good impression of the Acruxes' butler. I giggled hurrying over to take a stool in front of the bar and placing my clutch down, relishing the cool breeze against my burning neck. “Hmm...a Manhattan?” I teased and he cocked his head. “I'm afraid we're fresh out of bullshit, how about a white wine spritzer with a tiny umbrella in it?” I laughed, nodding eagerly as he made up my drink then poured himself a measure of bourbon. He held it out for me and I leaned across the bar to take it. As I took hold of the glass, he didn't let go and I gazed up at him under my lashes questioning why. “Have I told you have exceptionally beautiful you look tonight, Darcy?” Darcy. He'd said my name. For the first time ever. And why did it sound like so much more than a name when he spoke it? It was like he'd fired an arrow and it had punctured a flesh wound in me at the exact same moment. Hell. I needed to get over this guy. Why was I so caught up on him? Unavailable, that's what it was. We always want what we can't have and Professor Orion was off limits. Simple as that. And those muscles. And the beard. And the dark eyes. And the dimple. But that was it. “That's the first I've heard of it, Professor,” I whispered, unable to make my voice rise any louder. “Don't do that,” he grunted, releasing the drink. I eyed him curiously as he walked around the bar with his bourbon in hand. He took the stool beside mine, his arm butting up against me. “Do what?” I asked, swivelling around to face the pool and taking a sip of my spritzer. It fizzed on my tongue and sent a deep kick of heat through my chest. “You know what.” “You're very presumptuous, Orion. You think I'm far more aware of your chaotic way of thinking than I really am.” I sipped my drink again, spying on him from the corner of my eye. He took a swig of his own drink and the familiar waft of bourbon drifted over me, tingling my senses. It was becoming a trigger, like the moment I walked into his office and he uncorked a bottle, it made me want to taste it on his mouth. And then that led to me wondering whether his fangs would brush my tongue when we kissed, and that always led to me mentally undressing him, then me conjuring an image of what those muscles looked like beneath that shirt... “I have something for you,” he said and I turned, blinking out of my dark fantasy. “You do?” He nodded, reaching into his inside pocket and taking out my coil of blue hair. My heart combusted and a choked noise escaped me. I reached for it and he slid it onto my wrist. He kept my hand in his, his eyes downcast as they remained on the band of hair. “I want you to know, I believe you would have gotten this back yourself when you were ready. But I took a lot of pleasure in retrieving it for you all the same.” I stared at him in complete shock, unsure what to say, my tongue tied in knots. “But Fae don't fight battles for other Fae,” I blurted, completely astonished that his actions that day had been to take this back from Seth. For me. And nothing else. He finished his drink and planted the glass on the bar, rising to his feet. He didn't reply to what I'd said and I barely even remembered what it was as he started pulling his clothes off. “Err, what are you doing?” I half laughed as he shed his jacket and kicked off his shoes, pulling off his socks. Oh my god. “I hate parties, but I like swimming.” He started undoing the buttons of his shirt and thought his back was to me, I was still captivated as he dropped it to the floor like a silken sheet. My eyes scraped down his skin to where his muscles etched an upside down v into his lower back, disappearing beneath his waistband. His shoulders were tanned and heavenly broad, making me long to explore all of those muscles with my hands.(Darcy)

Proverbs 30:32 advises, “If you have been foolish in exalting yourself, or if you have devised evil, put your hand on your mouth.” (That right there is some good relationship advice. How much better would your life be if you got better at putting your hand on your mouth?) “For as the churning of milk produces butter, and wringing the nose produces blood, so the forcing of wrath produces strife” (v. 33).

Getting underway again, Arizona cleared the Pearl Harbor entrance and steamed off for night battle practice. On the evening of October 22, Arizona, as part of Battleship Division One along with Nevada and Oklahoma, was still at sea conducting maneuvers. As darkness fell, Admiral Kidd, as COMBATDIV One on Arizona leading the way, ordered the three ships out of column and into a line abreast. As the lead ship, Arizona occasionally flashed a searchlight off low-hanging clouds as a reference point. Nonetheless, the distance between Arizona and Oklahoma to port decreased until it became uncomfortably close. Aboard Arizona, Captain Van Valkenburgh ordered hard right rudder and signaled for flank speed. On Oklahoma, its captain ordered full astern as his ship was constrained from turning left by the proximity of the Nevada on his port beam. Both ships sounded collision sirens, but it was too late. Oklahoma, having a reinforced bow meant for ramming, struck the Arizona, a glancing blow on the port quarter. The portside torpedo blister meant to absorb torpedo attacks took the brunt of the blow. It resulted in a V-shaped gash in the blister four feet wide and twelve feet high. The structural integrity of the Arizona’s hull was not compromised, but this damage necessitated the ship’s return to Pearl Harbor for a week in dry dock. The Oklahoma got off easy with only the jack staff on its bow bent out of shape from the force of the impact.10

Not that I would mind if through the inheritance of a rich uncle I was finally able to afford health insurance, or go to a dentist who wasn’t a student. Before we left for the will reading, I did what I could to make myself presentable, which was always an uphill battle. My hair was shaggy, about three months overdue for a haircut, and my beard nearly reached my Adam’s apple. I hadn’t gotten new frames for my glasses in six or seven years, so I still wore my painfully hipster thick black rims. And, of course, there was little I could do about the wear in the knees of my pants, the dangling threads on my sweater, and least of all the tattoo of SpongeBob SquarePants on my forearm. A remnant of simpler times. I doubt I would have thought of any of those things had Robby not generously pointed them out one by one. My mind was elsewhere.

Peggy was different Peggy was complicated Speaking to her was like a game of chess Frank had taught Imelda draughts and now he was doing chess with her and so she knew Maurice was draughts Black v white Man v woman A battle that was fast and only for the crack Peggy was chess A game that Imelda didn’t know why would anyone even want to play it

Peter is saying, You need to know what you are—you’re aliens and you’re strangers; and so, as people who do not belong in this world, don’t stop battling against everything, including your desires, that makes you want to live just like everyone else in this world. It’s only as you live differently from this world that those around you (though they may fling accusations and derision at you) may actually come to see God’s goodness through you, and give him glory when Jesus returns (v 11-12, my paraphrase).

For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies—” “but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world,” “against mighty powers in this dark world,” “and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.” (v. 12 nlt) So we strap on weapons that work—weapons divinely authorized for our success in spiritual warfare: the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the shoes of peace. Then we take up the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, as well as the sword—the very Word of God. But we don’t stop there. Because neither does Paul in his description of our spiritual armor in Ephesians 6— Pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion. Stay alert and be persistent in your prayers for all believers everywhere. And pray . . . (vv. 18–19 nlt)

He never entered a battle without knowing for sure that the odds were on his side.

Do not be afraid nor dismayed because of this great multitude, for the battle is not yours, but God’s” (v. 15).

What is he, my keeper? I don’t have to listen to him if I don’t want to. I’m a fucking adult and Rowan can kiss my ass.

From the silent bow, the arrow flies." - Til Aarron, Bard of the Longmarchers

The German liberties were certainly very dearly bought. They may not have seemed to expensive to the princes, for it was not they who paid the price. Famine in Brunswick-Wolfenbuttel caused the Duke to notice that his table was less plentifully supplied than usual, and three bad wine harvests on the Lower Danube once prevented Ferdinand from sending his annual gift of tokay to John George of Saxony--such minute draughts blew in through palace windows from the hurricane without. Mortgaged lands, empty exchequers, noisy creditors, the discomforts of wounds and imprisonment, the loss of children in battle, these are all griefs which man can bear with comparative equanimity. The bitter mental sufferings which followed from mistaken policies, loss of prestige, the stings of conscience, and the blame of public opinion gave the German rulers cause to regret the war but seldom acted as an incentive to peace. No German ruler perished homeless in the winter's cold, nor was found dead with grass in his mouth, nor saw his wife and daughters ravished; few, significantly few, caught the pest. Secure in the formalities of their lives, in the food and drink at their table, they could afford to think in terms of politics and not of human sufferings.

But the hundred-plus years during which France and England fought are characterized by a deeper conflict than mere territorial battles: “The King of England,” says Jean Froissart, “had long wished for an opportunity to assert his right to the crown of France.” When Philip V had resurrected the old Salic Law to take the throne of France away from his niece, he had inadvertently provided a way for the English king to take the French thone. Philip V’s end run around his niece’s right to rule France had led to the barring of his own daughter, his sole child, from the throne, and the appointment of the new House of Valois in the place of Hugh Capet’s descendants—leaving Edward III, son of Philip’s sister Isabelle, as the sole remaining monarch of direct Capetian descent.

So, back to The Hand and the celestials. They weren’t born? How do they feel like they do? Neverra and Logan are married. The joy and laughter I saw in Logan’s memories were true love.” “The celestials are sentient beings created by my father and the other gods. Their primary purpose is to serve. As you saw, they can love true. Their high metabolism requires that they eat a lot. They are highly sexual and have the same passion for fighting. They are brave, quick to adapt, and very good at war, making them the perfect killing machines. It made them invaluable during battle.

Father. You’re unnerved.” Another stab of his staff, and the floor vibrated as he moved closer. “Unnerved? I would be less unnerved if you did not parade yourself in such a manner. The realms have slowly been devolving into chaos. I need you more focused than ever. The Ig’Morruthens seek power over any realm they can claim, and if they grow in numbers, even we will not be prepared to stop them. I need you to be focused.” My breath left me in a sigh, knowing far too well what followed. “I am focused.” I swayed on my feet before correcting myself. “Did I not cease Namur? I have earned the name World Ender from the realms we have taken back. I deserve a moment of peace, without blood and politics. Are we not supposed to indulge after victorious battles, be amongst our people?” He sneered, shaking his head. “Our people can indulge. You cannot. You will be king. Do you not comprehend that? You have to show your face, not sway upon your feet or dip your cock in any celestial or goddess that shows you a sliver of attention.” He paused, a single hand rubbing his brow. “You have so much potential, my son, yet you squander it.

What?” The question seemed to explode out of him, with a greater degree of violence than he had intended. Taken by surprise, Horace’s bay shied in fright and danced several paces sideways. Horace turned an aggrieved look on his mentor as he calmed the horse and brought it back under control. “What?” he asked Halt, and the smaller man made a gesture of exasperation. “That’s what I want to know,” he said irritably. “What?” Horace peered at him. The look was all too obviously the sort of look that you give to someone who seems to have taken leave of his senses. It did little to improve Halt’s rapidly rising temper. “What?” said Horace, now totally puzzled. “Don’t keep parroting at me!” Halt fumed. “Stop repeating what I say! I asked you ‘what,’ so don’t ask me ‘what’ back, understand?” Horace considered the question for a second or two, then, in his deliberate way, he replied: “No.” Halt took a deep breath, his eyebrows contracted into a deep V, and beneath them his eyes sparked with anger. But before he could speak, Horace forestalled him. “What ‘what’ are you asking me?” he said. Then, thinking how to make his question clearer, he added, “Or to put it another way, why are you asking ‘what’?

But the movement’s stated aims had stirred the best young men in India. The best left the universities and went far away, to fight for the landless and the oppressed and for justice. They went to a battle they knew little about. They knew the solutions better than they knew the problems, better than they knew the country. India remains so little known to Indians. People just don’t have the information. History and social inquiry, and the habits of analysis that go with these disciplines, are too far outside the Indian tradition. Naxalism was an intellectual tragedy, a tragedy of idealism, ignorance, and mimicry: middle-class India, after the Gandhian upheaval, incapable of generating ideas and institutions of its own, needing constantly in the modern world to be inducted into the art, science, and ideas of other civilizations, not always understanding the consequences, and this time borrowing something deadly, somebody else’s idea of revolution.

Bertie became a tennis ace, who played in the doubles of the 1926 Wimbledon championships. And he held a unique cricketing hat-trick, dismissing in three consecutive balls, in a game of garden cricket, three consecutive English kings: his grandfather ( Edward VII), his father (George V), and his brother (Edward VIII).

forced upon others who do not believe it, or when they believe that nonbelievers should be prevented from the robust or humorous expression of their nonbelief, then there’s a problem. The weaponizing of Christianity in the United States has resulted in the overturning of Roe v. Wade and the ongoing battle over abortion, and women’s right to choose. As I say above, the weaponizing of a kind of radical Hinduism by the current Indian leadership has led to much sectarian trouble, and even violence. And the weaponizing of Islam around the world has led directly to the terror reigns of the Taliban and the ayatollahs, to the stifling society of Saudi Arabia, to the knife attack against Naguib Mahfouz, to the assaults on free thought and the oppression of women in many Islamic states, and, to be personal, to the attack against me.

one like a son of man. In Aramaic and Hebrew the phrase “son of man” is simply a common expression to describe someone or something as human or humanlike. In Ezekiel, God often addresses the prophet as “son of man” to emphasize his humanness (e.g., Eze 2:6). coming with the clouds of heaven. In ancient Near Eastern literature clouds are often associated with the appearances of deities. In the OT it is Yahweh, the God of Israel, who rides on the clouds as his chariot (Ps 104:3; Isa 19:1). In Canaanite mythology Baal, the son of El, is described as “rider/charioteer of the clouds.” After doing battle with, and defeating, Yamm/Sea, Baal is promised an everlasting kingdom and eternal dominion. Some scholars see echoes of this story in Da 7:9–14. Others argue for a background in Mesopotamian cosmic conflict myths (such as the creation epic Enuma Elish and the Myth of Anzu), which depict a deity (Marduk and Ninurta, respectively) defeating the representative of chaos (Tiamat and Anzu, respectively) and regaining authority and dominion for the gods and for himself. Daniel’s vision has no conflict between the “one like a son of man” and the beasts. The interpretation in vv. 17–27, however, makes it clear that the “one like a son of man” in some way represents “the holy people of the Most High” (vv. 18, 22), who are in conflict with the “little horn” that arises out of the fourth beast (v. 8).

where his side could gain the upper hand in two v ones; endlessly replaying the key battles.

What Happened to Our Hearts Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. (1 Peter 2 v 11) Inside every heart, there’s a war; and the heart is both the victim and the culprit. Why? Because every person’s heart is inhabited by sinful desires, and produces sinful desires. There is an ongoing battle within the heart in which unhelpful desires wage war with our conscience. Bitterness. Anger. Envy. Greed. We cannot trust our feelings or all the passions that reside within us simply because we feel them. Our hearts are not pure—far from it: The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it? (Jeremiah 17 v 9) The nature of deception is to convince us that our hearts will not be satisfied unless we indulge what our hearts desire. But our hearts lead us astray in countless ways. Envy robs people of joy and contentment, sours friendships, and can lead to compromising morality in order to “get ahead.” Envy does not produce flourishing or joy in people. Indulging envy only results in misery for yourself and others. But none of us think this way as envy rages on. In the moment, the wrath and bitterness of envy assuages the sense of loss and jealousy residing within each of us. Not every impulse we experience should be indulged. We should be suspicious about “listening to our hearts.” Actually, everyone knows this is true. Prisons are full of people who acted in accord with their feelings—and who have been told by society that they shouldn’t. Every time a therapist tells a patient to view themselves more positively, they are accepting that there are feelings that are unhelpful to someone’s fulfillment. Our hearts’ desires can be at war with what is actually good for our hearts. The real question is: which desires should be fed, and which should be starved?

It’s cute, the battle of what her heart begs and body dictates

The strong will prey on the weak, and when it comes down to brute force, men almost always win a battle with women.

B. How is Jesus able to understand our weaknesses? C. How is our great high priest different from us? 2. Read 1 John 4:9–11. A. How did God show his love for us? What was the purpose of this action (v. 9)? B. Why did Jesus come into this world, according to verse 10? C. What conclusion does John reach, based on what he has said in verses 9–10? 3. Read Hebrews 2:11–18. A. According to verse 11, what does Jesus call those he saves? Why does he call them this? B. What was the purpose for Jesus becoming human, according to verses 14–15? C. Why can Jesus fully understand any problem or challenge you face, according to verses 17–18? How does this make him the perfect helper for you? Battle Lines Spend some time thanking God for claiming you, saving you, and using you. Ask him to use you to bring others to him, and then look for ways to bless others as God has blessed you. Review the five stones with which you’ve been equipped to face your giants.

The STAR WARS Novels Timeline OLD REPUBLIC 5000–33 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Lost Tribe of the Sith* Precipice Skyborn Paragon Savior Purgatory Sentinel 3650 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope The Old Republic: Deceived Lost Tribe of the Sith* Pantheon Secrets Red Harvest The Old Republic: Fatal Alliance 1032 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Knight Errant Darth Bane: Path of Destruction Darth Bane: Rule of Two Darth Bane: Dynasty of Evil RISE OF THE EMPIRE 33–0 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope Darth Maul: Saboteur* Cloak of Deception Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter 32 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace Rogue Planet Outbound Flight The Approaching Storm 22 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 22–19 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope The Clone Wars The Clone Wars: Wild Space The Clone Wars: No Prisoners Clone Wars Gambit Stealth Siege Republic Commando Hard Contact Triple Zero True Colors Order 66 Shatterpoint The Cestus Deception The Hive* MedStar I: Battle Surgeons MedStar II: Jedi Healer Jedi Trial Yoda: Dark Rendezvous Labyrinth of Evil 19 YEARS BEFORE STAR WARS: A New Hope STAR WARS: EPISODE III: Revenge of the Sith Dark Lord: The Rise of Darth Vader Imperial Commando 501st Coruscant Nights Jedi Twilight Street of Shadows Patterns of Force The

Back in 1415, Prince Henry and his brothers had convinced their father, King John of Portugal, to capture the principal Muslim trading depot in the western Mediterranean: Ceuta, on the northeastern tip of Morocco. These brothers were envious of Muslim riches, and they sought to eliminate the Islamic middleman so that they could find the southern source of gold and Black captives. After the battle, Moorish prisoners left Prince Henry spellbound as they detailed trans-Saharan trade routes down into the disintegrating Mali Empire. Since Muslims still controlled these desert routes, Prince Henry decided to “seek the lands by the way of the sea.” He sought out those African lands until his death in 1460, using his position as the Grand Master of Portugal’s wealthy Military Order of Christ (successor of the Knights Templar) to draw venture capital and loyal men for his African expeditions. In 1452, Prince Henry’s nephew, King Afonso V, commissioned Gomes Eanes de Zurara to write a biography of the life and slave-trading work of his “beloved uncle.” Zurara was a learned and obedient commander in Prince Henry’s Military Order of Christ. In recording and celebrating Prince Henry’s life, Zurara was also implicitly obscuring his Grand Master’s monetary decision to exclusively trade in African slaves. In 1453, Zurara finished the inaugural defense of African slave-trading, the first European book on Africans in the modern era. The Chronicle of the Discovery and Conquest of Guinea begins the recorded history of anti-Black racist ideas. Zurara’s inaugural racist ideas, in other words, were a product of, not a producer of, Prince Henry’s racist policies concerning African slave-trading.1

Matthew had won this battle—a battle in a war marked no more by yards on an open field, but by scars unseen.

Submissive Mind (Phil. 2). This chapter focuses on people, and the key verse says, “Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better [more important] than themselves” (v. 3). In chapter 1, Paul puts Christ first. In this chapter, he puts others second. Which means he puts himself last! The reason people aggravate us so much is usually because we do not have our own way. If we go through life putting ourselves first, and others go through life putting themselves first, then at many points there are going to be terrific battles.

The Submissive Mind (Phil. 2). This chapter focuses on people, and the key verse says, “Let nothing be done through strife or vainglory; but in lowliness of mind let each esteem other better [more important] than themselves” (v. 3). In chapter 1, Paul puts Christ first. In this chapter, he puts others second. Which means he puts himself last! The reason people aggravate us so much is usually because we do not have our own way. If we go through life putting ourselves first, and others go through life putting themselves first, then at many points there are going to be terrific battles.

If you're short of everything but enemy, you're in combat If you can see, you can be seen. If you can shoot, you can be shot. Incoming fire has the right of way. Don't look conspicuous, it draws fire. There is always a way, and it usually doesn't work. Try to look unimportant, they may be low on ammo. Professionals are predictable, it's the amateurs that are dangerous. The enemy invariably attacks on two occasions: -when you're ready for them. -when you're not ready for them. Teamwork is essential, it gives them someone else to shoot at. The enemy diversion you have been ignoring will be the main attack. If your attack is going well, then it's an ambush. Never draw fire, it irritates everyone around you. Anything you do can get you shot, including nothing. Never share a foxhole with anyone braver than yourself. If you're short of everything but the enemy, you're in a combat zone. Friendly fire isn't. Remember, a retreating enemy is probably just falling back and regrouping. If at first you don't succeed, call in artillery. Exceptions prove the rule, and destroy the battle plan. The enemy never watches until you make a mistake. One enemy soldier is never enough, but two is entirely too many. Whenever you have plenty of ammo, you never miss. Whenever you are low on ammo, you can't hit the broad side of a barn. Field experience is something you don't get until just after you need it. When you have sufficient supplies & ammo, the enemy takes 2 weeks to attack. When you are low on supplies & ammo the enemy decides to attack that night.

6:10–18 Spiritual Warfare, FAITH’S WARFARE. Paul admonishes us to put on the whole armor of God in order to stand against the forces of hell. It is clear that our warfare is not against physical forces, but against invisible powers who have clearly defined levels of authority in a real, though invisible, sphere of activity. Paul, however, not only warns us of a clearly defined structure in the invisible realm; he instructs us to take up the whole armor of God in order to maintain a “battle-stance” against this unseen satanic structure. All of this armor is not just a passive protection in facing the enemy; it is to be used offensively against these satanic forces. Note Paul’s final directive: we are to “pray in the Spirit at all times and on every occasion” (v. 18). Thus, prayer is not so much a weapon, or even a part of the armor, as it is the means by which we engage in the battle itself and the purpose for which we are armed. To put on the armor of God is to prepare for battle. Prayer is the battle itself, with God’s Word being our chief weapon employed against Satan during our struggle. (*/2 Kgs 6:8–17) D.E.

Why do people kill others just like them with such ferocity simply because they worship a different god? What harm were they doing? People suffer in these wars and dozens, hundreds, thousands, millions even lose their lives. Whatever happened to the survival instinct? One could just about understand the violent battle for wealth or territory but how are we supposed to understand the battle for a belief?

A stronghold is a false premise that denies God’s promise. It “sets itself up against the knowledge of God” (v. 5 NIV). It seeks to eclipse our discovery of God. It attempts to magnify the problem and minimize God’s ability to solve it. Does

In 1930, for example, during the depths of the depression, economic visionary W. K. Kellogg (as in corn flakes), announced a revolutionary experiment: Nearly every employee in his huge Battle Creek plant would thereafter work a six-hour day. The reduction in hours was accompanied by only a minimal cut in pay, since Kellogg believed that hard work would replace long hours.

That’s the way all life’s battles are won, Jory,” said Chris as I hugged Jory close. “You don’t look at the overall picture. You take one step, then another, and another . . . until you arrive at your destination

all issues but one, antebellum southerners stood for state’s rights and a weak federal government. The exception was the fugitive slave law of 1850, which gave the national government more power than any other law yet passed by Congress. This irony resulted from the Supreme Court’s decision in Prigg v. Pennsylvania (1842). In the typical oblique

The idea that you still have plenty of time is an illusion. You can spend your entire life in expectation of a better future. There is the saying; “There is nothing more permanent than the temporary”. In reality there is no time to wait. Do not wait for the future but insert it into the current moment. Allow yourself to have, here and now. That does not mean that your goal will be realized instantly. We are talking about will, i.e. the intention to have in contradistinction to the ongoing battle with the self. The will to have is infinitely more powerful than the will to act.

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It was a claiming. A battle. A dance of tastes

Isaiah had written that this “child” would bring about a great deliverance “as on the day of Midian” (Isaiah 9:4). He was referring to the “Battle of Midian,” when, guided by God, Gideon had reduced his army in stages from 32,000 down to 300 men carrying 300 trumpets and 300 jars with torches inside them. They surrounded the Midianite camp by night, and then, on the signal, they smashed the jars—letting the light shine out—blew the trumpets, and shouted in triumph; the Midian army fled in disarray (Judges 7:1-25). Truly “the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Corinthians 1:25). Perhaps Paul was thinking about this incident when he wrote about the light of the gospel shining in the darkness in the face of Jesus Christ, and he added, “We have this treasure in jars of clay to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Corinthians 4:7). For this child—“little, weak and helpless,” as one carol puts it[7]—was nevertheless “Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:24). Truly, “the foolishness of God is wiser than men” (v 25).