How to Keep Fighting When You're Running on Empty

How to Keep Fighting When You're Running on Empty

In 1814, a thirty-by-forty-two-foot flag hung over Fort McHenry while British ships pounded it for twenty-five straight hours. A lawyer named Francis Scott Key watched from eight miles away, with no way to know if the fort had held. At first light, he raised his spyglass, and the flag was still there. That flag never fired a shot. It simply declared whose fort it was.

Israel needed a banner like that. They just had no idea it was coming.

The Battle Finds Us When We're Weakest

In Exodus 17, Israel has just come through a water crisis. God provided from the rock, and they figured the hard part was over. Then, "Amalek came and fought against Israel" (Exodus 17:8 CSB). Notice who Amalek went after. Deuteronomy tells us he picked off the stragglers at the back of the line, the sick, the exhausted, the ones who couldn't keep pace (Deuteronomy 25:17-18).

There's an idea in sports medicine called the open window theory. For a stretch after a marathon, an athlete's immune system is drained, and that's when sickness slips in. The most vulnerable moment isn't mid-race. It's right after, when everyone assumes the hard part is behind them.

We know this window. A few years ago I lost my dad to cancer, and it felt like everything else hit at once. The crisis ends, you exhale, and then something else shows up. Israel had barely wiped the water from their faces when Amalek arrived.

And this fight wasn't random. Amalek traces back to Esau's grandson (Genesis 36), a family feud running for generations. Some of our battles have deep roots too. We didn't pick them, and they didn't start yesterday.

The Banner Doesn't Fight. It Declares.

Back to that flag. It didn't defend the fort. It announced who owned it, and it gave proof to anyone looking that the fort was still standing.

That's the picture Moses reaches for after the battle. He builds an altar and names it "The Lord Is My Banner" (Exodus 17:15 CSB). In Hebrew, that's Jehovah Nissi. A nissi is a standard, a rallying point, the place you run to because the strength and help are there. 

Think about what Israel had at that moment. Every other nation had a flag. Israel was fresh out of Egypt, with no flag at all. What they had was better: the Lord and His power as their banner.

Notice also what Moses did while Joshua fought with the sword. He worshiped. Hands raised, staff lifted, the same staff he used in Egypt and at the Red Sea. The outcome wasn't riding on Moses' arm strength, since his arms gave out. Israel won because the banner over that battle was God Himself, and once that was settled, the outcome was never really in question.

Our battles may not go the way we think they will. But when we look up and see the banner, we know the One who controls the outcome. We fight under His name, not ours.

Write It Down, Because You'll Forget

After the battle, the Lord tells Moses, "Write this down on a scroll as a reminder" (Exodus 17:14 CSB). Why write it down? Because forgetting is what we do. Israel would spend forty years in the wilderness mostly because they kept forgetting what God had already done.

God also says He'll be at war with Amalek "from generation to generation." That's literal. Centuries later, King Saul was told to finish the job and spared Amalek's king instead. Centuries after that, a descendant of Amalek nearly wiped out the Jewish people in the book of Esther. The battle kept coming. So did the God who had already declared the outcome.

This is why we've spent weeks on the names of God. He is Yahweh, personal and near. He is Adonai, the One we surrender to. He is El Gibbor, our strength. And He is Jehovah Nissi, our banner. When the enemy attacks, God starts to look small, because we've forgotten who He is. His promises don't come with an expiration date.

Too often we wrap our theology around our circumstances instead of wrapping our circumstances in our theology. One of those makes God smaller than the problem. The other puts Him where He belongs.

We Need People Who Point Us Back to the Banner

Now, back to that hill. "When Moses' hands grew heavy, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat down on it. Then Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on each side, so that his hands remained steady until the sun went down" (Exodus 17:12 CSB).

Think about that. The man carrying the banner over Israel's entire army couldn't hold his own arms up. Aaron and Hur didn't preach to him or fix his problem. They found him a seat, and they held him up. Not a comfortable seat, either. It was a rock. But they made room for him to rest while they kept the declaration visible.

"Carry one another's burdens," Paul writes, "and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ" (Galatians 6:2 CSB). That isn't a kind suggestion for people with energy to spare. It's what the way of Jesus looks like. Aaron and Hur weren't going above and beyond. They were doing what they were called to do.

We all hit those moments. I don't even know what I believe right now. I don't know if God is hearing me. Sometimes it takes someone else to remind us who He is.

Not everyone can do that. Tyler Perry's character Madea has a line about people being like trees. Some are leaves: when the wind blows, they're gone. Some are branches: they look dependable until the storm hits. And then there are roots, the two or three people who aren't going anywhere.

I recently asked a friend for time on my calendar. He let me talk for forty-five minutes of a thirty-minute slot without a word. Then he gave me an hour and fifteen minutes of hard truth. No flattery. No "you're doing great." He asked where I was in Scripture and how I was wrestling with it, because what I needed wasn't an opinion. I needed to be pointed back to the banner. That's a root.

What This Means for You

The battle will come, probably when you're most worn down. But the banner over your fight is the Lord Himself, and what He's declared over you outlasts today's battle. You don't have to hold your arms up alone. You were never meant to.

Taking It Into This Week

Listen to the full message: Jehovah Nissi