I asked them a question the last time I sat with them.  I have no idea why it came to mind.  Perhaps it was only to remind myself.

“Do you guys have a favorite book, or series of books?  You know, books you can read again and again, that still hold your interest?”

They seemed surprised, but we discussed their favorites—and mine—for a few minutes, and then moved on to other subjects.  I wished later that we hadn’t.  Moved on, that is.

I did it again.  Argued vociferously for something I don’t really care about.  Just because.  

I may have offended.

I’ll not be apologizing.  

Well, I probably won’t.  They asked me not to the last time I did.  It’s not like anyone is still upset with anyone else.  We had a discussion, and it came to an end.  

I simply need to remember not to bring up the same points the next time we discuss the subject.

But the books…

I was reminded that I haven’t picked up any of my old friends from the shelves for a while.  The siren call of the screens is so much louder.  So much more insistent.  And, I’m not sure I like that.

So, I’m reading about the rabbits again.  I don’t know which time it is.  The seventh or eighth, I think.  It doesn’t matter.

They are headed for Watership Down once more.  Actually, have already arrived in the book I’m reading.  But, the journey—the struggle—is never-ending.  The task, the conflict, lasts a lifetime.

My mind has already jumped ahead in the story.  It seemed important to me tonight.  The reader may decide if it is or not.

Without giving away any spoilers, I’ll tell you that the main character, Hazel, is a rabbit who is steadfast and wise, leading the ragtag troop of rabbits on their adventures.  But, in the particular conflict I’m thinking about (a real fight, by the way), he departs from the pitched battle, leaving his strong friend, Bigwig, to fight a war there seems no hope of winning.

Not explaining his plan, he tells Bigwig, “Don’t give in to them on any account.”

And then, he is gone without any explanation of why.  Leaving them to defend themselves on their own.  Knowing there will be pain.

I’m not a rabbit.  I’m fairly certain no one reading this is one, either.  

But sometimes, I wonder.  Like those few beasts left behind in this story, I wonder if it’s worth the fight.  If it’s worth the cost.

But then, I remember I’ve been given a charge to keep.  Each of us who follows Jesus has.

“Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm.”  (Ephesians 6:13, NLT)

“Don’t give in to them on any account.”

In the book I’m reading, the enemies, stronger and greater in number than our heroes, break through their defenses and are met in a narrow place by the one scarred and wounded warrior who was given the directive from the Chief Rabbit. 

When Bigwig, bleeding and horribly wounded, is cajoled and bribed with promises of better circumstances, he only replies, “My Chief Rabbit has told me to defend this run, and until he says otherwise, I shall stay here.”

Scarred and bent, but not broken.

I’m not certain if the author of the book intended for there to be a deeper message.  It’s there, anyway.

“We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are not destroyed.” 
(2 Corinthians 4:8-9, NLT)

Surely, I’m not the only one who’s feeling this way today. 

The battle is too hard.  The warriors standing side-by-side with us seem to be wounding us with their weapons almost as much as the ones on the other side of the battle line.  It’s almost as if we think we are in a battle with other humans, rather than with beliefs, spiritual kingdoms, and ideological wickedness in high places. (Ephesians 6:12)

I may have made one of the errant swipes with a weapon myself.  Or more than one.

But I’m still standing.

I think I can stand here a little longer.

He’s coming back soon.  He said He would.

We could stand together while we wait, you and I.  I promise, I’ll be a little more careful with my sharp weapons.

And, I may even apologize one more time. Or, more than once.

Stand here with me awhile anyway—would you?

 

“Thank you, O my God,
for loving me enough
that you would rouse
my deepest desires again through story, 
appointing these longings as true signposts
planted in a war-torn and cratered landscape,
reminding me that all of history is leading at last
     to a King and a kingdom,
and pointing me ever onward toward
His righteous and eternal city.”
(from Lament Upon the Finishing of a Beloved Book, in Every Moment Holy, by Douglas McKelvey)

 

© Paul Phillips. He’s Taken Leave. 2025. All Rights Reserved.