I don’t know who said this, but I think it captures the core of warriors. Warriors are fighting for something or someone. They’re standing between. They put themselves in harms way for the sake of their brothers, their families, and their countries. There is a great, heartrending sadness and beauty to this. I also think it’s a mentality that both men and women can have, even if it is expressed differently.
I’ve loved brotherhood stories my whole life. Most of my favorite books and movies, my favorite stories, have a central brotherhood core. This is the Fellowship in Lord of the Rings, Madmartigan and Willow, the rabbits in Watership Down, the four heroes of Final Fantasy XV, and many more. I love the bond between men who face the world together. I love the women who stand at their sides, or even care for their homes and children while they fight the world. I love HearthKeepers and Huntsman. (Which is actually one of the YA series I’m always working on.) I believe that both men and women can be warriors, I just think that warrior-ness expresses itself differently. (The world thinks it’s the same, but it’s not. I’m not a man. I’m not going to be the same type of warrior my husband, brothers, and fathers are. I’m going to be a warrior the way my mothers are, my sisters, and my dear friends. I’m going to stand by my husband and guard his back, guard his home, keep things going. I want him free to face the dark world, and protect me. That kind of female warrior-ness takes great courage, sacrifice, and fortitude. And that’s a big rabbit trail.) As I’ve gotten older, I realized this magical bond, this brotherhood, is most starkly seen in war stories. War exaggerates the bond between men. When I finally sat up and took note of that, I started working through every war movie I could find. My current ‘Top Five Favorite Movies’ are Rambo 4, Fury, Lone Survivor, Gladiator, and Lord of the Rings. I love 13 Hours. And yes, Band of Brothers is my second favorite TV Show right after Firefly. I am slowly but surely collecting all the books written by and about the Band of Brothers. I can’t get enough of brotherhood war movies. I think that real spiritual warfare is our day-in-day-out, ordinary battle against our own sin, the corruption of the world, and false teaching. This is spiritual warfare. If you were able to look at an ordinary church with TrueSight goggles, you would see a gathering of dirty, broken, bleeding warriors filling the pews. I think images of battles—be it the Somme, or somewhere in the Middle East—are a more accurate representation of our daily lives as saints still in this world, than anything else. And I think our love of our local church members should be as strong as the bond between brothers in combat. We are in the trenches together and we should see it that way. In Lone Survivor they say, “Never out of the fight.” If that’s not true about you and your battle against your own sin, I don’t know what is. These are the two reasons I love, love, love warrior stories: brotherhood and spiritual warfare. I also love the idea of standing up for what you believe and for who you love, with violence. We live in a world that no longer respects the idea of defending your and yours with strength and a weapon. We have become so acclimated to a tame world, that men who willingly stand up against the darkness, or just stand up to a bully, are labelled a bully themselves. We think violence isn’t our right, but only something uneducated rednecks indulge in, or only the government can be trusted with. We believe violence doesn’t solve anything, but we forget we live in a fallen world. This world will never be heaven. This world is broken and God isn’t planning on fixing it. He isn’t here to save the physical world. You can’t stop someone intent on hurting you or your family or your country with nice words or by calling the government. All you can do is cock your gun and pull the trigger. This is reality. The anti-violence attitude puts all of us not only in a sad state, but a dangerous one. We aren’t teaching our boys to defend others with their strength, but to sit down and act like girls. We aren’t teaching girls to have their man’s back, but to take over. We’re teaching girls that they can be just like a man, that they don’t need him, and that his innate warrior-ness is dangerous. It is dangerous, but it isn’t necessarily evil. You need a man to be dangerous, but you need him to control his danger so it is his servant not his master. Men who are abusive should be taken out by the men who aren’t, immediately. But, you can’t just say all signs of strength are bad. That leaves our homes, and our streets, and our countries undefended and open to attack. This is another reason I love Warrior Stories. This is why I write warrior stories. The power of brotherhoods, real spiritual warfare, and the need for violence enflame me.
Do I think it’s weird that I, a woman, love Warrior Stories? Nope. I don’t. I think women are the holders. I think we’re the rememberes. We are the ones who sacrifice sons and husbands to these horrors. We are the ones who have to defend our homes when they’re gone. We’re the raisers of the next generation of warriors. Warrior stories are my right as a women. I want to know what my man faces, be it in the true realities of war, or be it the less dramatic, every day, ordinary strength he has to show. I want to know. I want to hold. I want to remember. I want to raise. I also think we’re the HearthKeepers. My husband is a pastor. He is a warrior, in my mind. He wages war against false doctrine and false teachers. He stands up to lies for the sake of his church. He also works full time to provide for us. So, he works a full time job, comes home and studies, and then preaches on Sunday. He works and studies, works and studies, and preaches. That means that just like a cop’s wife, or a soldier’s wife, I handle the running of the home. I’m the HearthKeeper. I do everything else so that he can be free to work and study. I get the tires changed (what I’m doing while I write this). I do the accounting, cleaning, cooking, and social planning. I take care of wardrobes and rest. I am the HearthKeeper to my warrior. So no. I don’t think it’s strange that I love Warrior Stories. I just hope I can inspire you to love them too. What are your top five favorite movies? Have any war movies had a big impact on you?
Why warrior stories? I ask myself this question regularly. Why do I love them so much? What is it about them that thrills me far more lastingly than any romance or drama? Why warrior stories? Unfocused and puzzled, I can’t answer the question. I feel weird and out of step with those around me. I think how strange it must be for an almost middle aged women to love Rambo 4, Lone Survivor, Black Hawk Down, Fury, We were Soldiers, and Band of Brothers. How weird am I?
Then Pastor Jarrett preaches on Luke and Eureka! I’ve got it!
I love warrior stories because I’m starving. I’m starving for stories about real men, and more than that, I’m starving for real stories about Christ.
Most movies and books, children’s bible stories, and false beliefs about Jesus center around this vision of him as a quiet, mild-mannered, limp-wristed savior. He’s a long-haired hippie preaching some kum-ba-yah type love.
But, the real Jesus, our real King is drenched in blood. Not his blood, but the blood of his enemies! He is the calmer of storms, the one who faced the Devil and prevailed, the one who faced Legion unflinchingly. He is on his white horse, our captain, and he is riding rough-shod over the Devil. But, he is a true warrior. A real warrior. It is safe at his feet. It is safe to stand in his shadow. He has faced down fallen angles in the 1000s without taking one step back. We can stand safely behind him.
See??? A real warrior is a great danger to those who attack him, and a great good to those he defends. He isn’t safe. A real warrior is never safe, but he is good.
In our female-centric world, we’ve overcompensated. We realized women were under-represented, but instead of balancing things out, we’ve told men to go sit on their hands, women have got this. We’ve neutered men. We’ve turned them into cute, little man-buns that wouldn’t hurt a fly because we were afraid. We’re afraid of strong men. Women try to make everything safe, and have forgotten how to raise warriors. Warriors aren’t safe, but they’re safe to stand behind. A true warrior is good.
Holding onto this idea is hard. The world constantly throws at us the peaceful Jesus with his weak, sad eyes. The world tells us that warriors need to go away, stop fighting. Fighting is dangerous, gross, and barbaric. Also, our battle is a spiritual one. It’s one we can’t see. Between the invisible and the world, holding onto Jesus as our Warrior King can be like grasping at bubbles. They burst in your hands, beautiful but gone.
I love the image of the sheepdog, but it lacks something. It teaches that there are people who remain blissfully ignorant about the real world, sheep. These are the kind of people that actually think they can create peace if they give up their guns, failing to realize that just makes them defenseless. These sheep would be ravaged by wolves if it weren’t for the sheepdogs. Sheepdogs defend sheep. Sheep don’t like sheepdogs. They make them nervous. But the sheepdog doesn’t really care. He just does his job and keeps the wolves from the sheep. I love this. I love sheepdogs. But, the breakdown comes when the sheepdogs start to become prideful, arrogant, and hateful towards the sheep. They stop seeing their job and they start seeing weak, dumb animals making their job harder. Now the sheep are in danger from both the wolves and the sheepdog. What do we do? How do we stop this?
We need a shepherd.
The shepherd will keep the sheepdogs in line and the sheep in line. We need an outside standard of right and wrong. We need the Word of God. We need to train unsafe, but good warriors.
I think of my husband as a warrior. He’s not in the military. He’s not a cop. But he is a strong man who thinks clearly and sharply through things, and isn’t afraid to stand up for what’s right. Now, he’s on his path to being an elder in our church. He’s going to war. He’s moving to the front lines of the spiritual battle. His weapons aren’t metal, but the Word of God. His enemy isn’t a terrorist, but false doctrines and sin threatening his church. He’s become an under-shepherd, a sheepdog. What does that look like? Pretty much the same as it always has. He’s got his boots, jeans, and button downs. He’s got his books. He’s got his beard going grayer every day. He’s not dirty. He’s not bleeding. He’s not wounded. He’s not surrounded physically. None of that is seen, but it’s all there spiritually.
Sibling-saints, we are all this way. We are at war. We are in a fight, a constant fight. See, in the spiritual war, women are mighty warriors just like men are. We are all priests. I couldn’t be a warrior in real life. I’m not strong enough. But, in the spiritual war, I can stand shoulder to shoulder with these my brothers and sisters. We, beloved saints, are bleeding, wounded, broken down warriors in this war. But we have hope!!! Our elder brother goes before us. He is mighty. He did what no man could do in the wilderness. He did what no man could do at sea, and he did what no man could do for us. Jesus is our Warrior King. He touches the sick, befriends the villain, and retrieves the dangerous. He faces legions of fallen angels and doesn’t break. He is our captain and he will see us all safely home.
I love warrior stories because my husband’s battles are largely unseen, the war I’m in is spiritual, and mostly because Jesus is the great Warrior King. Warrior stories help me remember reality.
This is why I love warrior stories. This is what I devour and this is what I write.