At a Standstill

Standing completely still that November day was not enough.

Just moments before, I set out on my usual three-mile morning walk; however, this time I was not alone. I was caring for a friend’s baby, so this particular day I had a stroller and adorable company. As often as I have taken the same route over the past twenty-one years, there should be a path worn in the sidewalk and road.

At the one-mile point, a snowy white cat with a ginger-colored tail caught my eye, so I paused to take a quick photo. Up ahead at the end of the street I noticed a fluffy white dog roaming the street, owner standing in his driveway. 

Little did I know that my next few steps would be my final ones as “normal.” 

As the dog trotted toward me, my adrenaline began to heighten, then grow once the barking ensued. I had never faced this type of situation before, and my first instinct was to protect the baby. A split-second decision became a necessity. I chose not to run to avoid being chased, and I chose not to turn around to ensure the dog would not bother the baby. With no other option, and no mace or stick to shake at the aggressive animal, I chose to grip the stroller handle and stand completely still.

My assumption that the barking dog would inflict only audible trauma was terribly, painfully wrong. Even as I type, tears well-up and spill onto my face. The unexpected, tearing bite into the back of my calf. The excruciating pain. The initial unacceptable interaction with the owner's grown son. The difficulty hobbling home. The trip to urgent care. The multiple appointments. The obvious infection. The medication. The stomach-churning pictures of progress. The longer-than-expected journey to healing. The new fears. The variety of lessons learned – lessons which bored deeper into my soul and eventually surpassed the physical.

I learned to NOT turn my back on a dog, but to face it. 

I learned that cute, fluffy dogs are not always “cute” in personality.

I learned that doing the right thing is not always easy.

I learned that pain can produce deep emotions, while scars remind of healing.

I learned to see things and people differently.

I learned that my “armor” was missing. 

Now mace – and occasionally my billy club – accompany me on morning walks. They are my armor. Sadly, I have actually been forced to use the mace a time or two since the attack, and it is now my daily companion. How I wish I had my “armor” with me that day. For if I had, standing still would have been enough to fight off that stupid silly dog.

In life, however, there is an enemy MUCH MORE dangerous, and an armor FAR more important.

“Put on the WHOLE armour of God, that ye may be able to STAND against the wiles of the devil.” (Eph. 6:11) The Amplified version puts it this way, “Put on God’s whole armor [the armor of a heavy-armed soldier which God supplies], that you may be able successfully to stand up against {all} the strategies and the deceits of the devil.”

“Wherefore take unto you the WHOLE armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to STAND.” (Eph. 6:13).

Verses 14–17 of Ephesians go on to describe each piece of armor that is necessary for full protection – the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, shoes of the Gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is God's Word. Now THAT sounds like the right protection!

“…Fear ye not, STAND STILL, and see the salvation of the LORD…The LORD shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.” (Exodus 14:13a, 14)

“Ye shall not need to fight in this battle: set yourselves, STAND YE STILL, and see the salvation of the LORD with you…for the LORD will be with you.” (2 Chron. 20:17)

When Satan, the real enemy, tries to attack, there is no need to run or turn my back. There is no need to cower or fear. God has already supplied the essential armor. All He requires of me is to take His armor and stand still so that He can fight for me. In doing so, the REAL enemy will lose every time.