“Definitely” is one of my favorite words. I’m a pretty serious gal and don’t “maybe” anything. I like to define terms and think things through, no matter how seemingly trivial the issue. It’s the little steps that define the path that eventually becomes the story of my life. I need to definitely do it well.
So I chuckled at a “definitely” comment on Facebook the other day. The writer intended to say that she would definitely check out the posted link further. “Definitely” has to be the most commonly misspelled word on Facebook, so the presence of an “a” didn’t surprise me. What struck me was that she actually said she would “defiantly check this out”.
Have you ever defiantly done anything? Oh, sure, teens are always defiant. But rather than just sheer rebellion against authority, true defiance is a stance made in contempt of the adversary; it is an invitation to maintain my point in combat, if anybody dare to meet me. That’s the gist I get from the three aspects of the word in my 1828 Webster’s. Definitions make things definite. Without definition, the rebellion is more stubbornness than stand. Holding a hill you’re willing to die on makes defiance definitely heroic.
Maybe this whole thread struck me because I had just posted Tim Tebow’s public response regarding his “incessant use of Jesus Christ” in speech. Tebow, who is the star quarterback for the Denver Broncos, responded on ESPN that that’s who he is and why, and he wouldn’t shut up. His relationship with Jesus Christ is everything to him and he would give glory where glory was due, every time. That is a defiant answer. And yet, while he drew a line and cemented his foot to it, he didn’t engage his adversary. He just said, in effect, “Yeah – what of it?” That’s strength of character.
It reminded me of something I saw my cat do once. Kitty was big, as cats go: 22 pounds of solid, Siamese muscle. But when my 85 lb. yellow Labrador ran at him one day, he didn’t flinch. Right there in the driveway, he looked the dog in the eye and laid down precisely where he was. My cat whisperer/veterinarian brother explained the body language to me: essentially, he’s refusing to fight. But he’s also refusing to give ground. This is his real estate, and he intends to keep it. The dog can stay and ponder, or he can leave, but the cat’s going nowhere. There’s no use growling because Kitty’s said all he’s going to say.
That’s just plain awesome. That’s what Tebow did, and where I want to be.
I can’t believe I actually thought twice about posting the letter. What would my friends think of me? Would they judge me to be a fanatic, a Jesus freak? My sanity broke in on my fears: moreso than I’ve already shown myself to be?
It boils down to one question: Will I follow my Lord, or not?
What will I do today that makes any difference? World changers don’t go with the flow and follow the 98%. Scary as it is, I must defy the big, ugly dog that outweighs me fourfold and look him in the eye. Definitely. I must sit down and say, “This is not just what I believe, it’s who I am. Take it or go home.”
I belong to the King of kings; I have nothing to fear. He is also the Prince of Peace. I will not make arguments or shoot every detractor down like so much alley cleaning. I will simply follow the Man who’s proven to love me and love Him in return. I will go where He leads me and stand defiantly, definitely on His hill. I may find, like I did with the Tebow letter, that I don’t stand there alone. That may not always be the case. May God help the man who throws the first stone.
Remember, sinner, it is not thy hold of Christ that saves thee–it is Christ; it is not thy joy in Christ that saves thee–it is Christ; it is not even faith in Christ, though that is the instrument–it is Christ’s blood and merits; therefore, look not to thy hope, but to Christ, the source of thy hope; look not to thy faith, but to Christ, the author and finisher of thy faith; and if thou doest that, ten thousand devils cannot throw thee down – Iain Murray