Finding My Place in the Battle
JENNIFER HARRIS|GUEST 1980’s cartoon shows were a daily entertainment in my growing up years. After school, my sisters and I would come home, turn on the 13-channel television and make our snacks. We’d settle down on the couch for an afternoon of respite from the world and our studies before jumping into piano practice, homework, and midweek church activities. One of the shows I loved the most was G.I. Joe. My heart was drawn to the idea of fighting for goodness and taking action to defeat evil. I grew up in a relatively peaceful part of the world near Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada. There was no fear of war arriving on our shores in that era. The sight of military vehicles was so rare that whenever we spotted an army truck on the road, we stared. Although the conservative anabaptist denomination I grew up in upheld the virtue of pacifism, the focus in our family was more on intentionally promoting and working for peace, not merely just avoiding confrontation. Why was I drawn so passionately to this tv show about soldiers and warfare? What was I fighting for? I didn’t know, but God was going to take me through boot camp. Facing Fear in a Fallen World Perhaps I first learned endurance as an infant, though I have no memory. My parents recall watching from behind a glass window, their baby daughter fight to breathe for days in an oxygen tent, as my little body battled to overcome the deadly Pertussis virus. Perhaps it was because I was a sensitive soul, timid, yet at times brave enough to stand up to a bully at school and tell him to back down from hurting a weaker student. Maybe it was because God gave me a very early awareness of the existence of evil. Perhaps also I was more affected than I knew by the secondary trauma I experienced during college from learning that a dear family friend was violently murdered. Whatever it was, this sensitive soul was learning endurance, perseverance, and how to stand firm in Christ. There was a battle to fight...