Cowboys and Indians

As children we played Cowboys and Indians, good guys and bad guys. Our weapons were a pointed index finger, a wooden stick or…if you were lucky…the coveted cap gun (which required no additional sound effects). Ideally you would be the oldest or biggest and would get to make the rules. Younger and smaller brothers, sisters and assorted children from the neighborhood made up the band of Indians or bad guys. They were required to die immediately upon being shot while you could take countless hits without even flinching. Much time was spent shouting, “I got you” and arguing over who shot who first…it was great fun chasing each other around until Mom called us in for supper.

As a teenager it became a fight, a fight with my hormones. It was no longer “a make believe battle”…it was real…the small bands of bad guys became hoards screaming heathens. Will power was my only weapon I had...and I had no clue how to use it. I always felt so outnumbered and they seemed to win more times than not.

Now I am older…much older…and it seems there are not as many of “them” but they still lie in wait to ambush me on occasion. It is much easier to defend myself now…most of the time I just role over and play dead and they quickly lose interest in tormenting me.

Dear Lord Jesus,
Thanks for getting me through those difficult years without completely self-destructing.
Now I realize that You were there…even when I completely ignored you.
Please give me the courage, the strength and the wisdom to acknowledge You… especially in fights with the bad guys.

Amen