The Day He Chose to Become a Good Soldier of Christ

Frank Wible
Jul 23
2 min read

Logan didn’t back down from much. A former amateur boxer turned gym owner, he was disciplined, focused, and well-respected in his church. He ran men’s Bible studies like boot camp. He told younger guys to “man up” and “stop compromising.” He thought he was leading well. But behind the strength was a slow unraveling.

Man in gray gym attire sits with head in hands, looking distressed. Office setting, dark tones, books on wooden desk, black bag on floor. — He could win every fight in the ring — but not the one inside his heart.

His marriage had been cold for years. His prayer life was shallow. And his mind? Constantly bombarded. Not with visible sin, but with subtle war — temptation, irritation, pride, distraction. He kept fighting it like he fought everything else: with discipline and willpower. And it wasn’t working.

One night, after a brutal argument with his wife and another round of temptation that left him hollow and ashamed, Logan sat on the floor of his office and finally said what he never had before: “I can’t win this on my own.”

That night, his Bible fell open to 2 Timothy 2. He read it slowly, eyes burning: “Join with me in suffering, like a good soldier of Christ Jesus...” He’d memorized that verse years ago — but now it hit differently. He hadn’t been a soldier. He’d been a performer. A manager. A tough guy. But a soldier? Soldiers suffer. Soldiers follow orders. Soldiers don’t get distracted.

He stared at the words, “No one serving as a soldier gets entangled in civilian affairs.” Logan thought of how much time he spent tangled — in petty fights, reputation-building, chasing success. No wonder he felt powerless. He wasn’t on assignment. He was off-mission.

A man kneels on a wooden floor, reading a book intently in a softly lit room. His expression is focused and contemplative. — He finally stopped leading — and started listening to orders.

The next morning, he woke early and dropped to his knees — not as a habit, but as surrender. “I’m reporting for duty,” he whispered. “Whatever You ask.” That was the beginning. He didn’t fix his marriage that week. He didn’t suddenly become immune to temptation. But everything shifted.

Logan stopped trying to be impressive. He started being obedient. He confessed struggles to his men’s group. He got counseling with his wife. He fasted for clarity. He prayed not just to be strong, but to stay sharp — focused, alert, aligned. He trained like a soldier for the war he could no longer ignore.

The battles didn’t stop, but now he was armed. The depression that once crept in like a fog now met a man standing guard with Scripture. The lust that used to whisper in the dark now ran into a man who shut the door and hit his knees instead. Logan still bled — but he bled on the battlefield, not in isolation.

Now, when other men come to him weary and worn, he doesn’t say “man up.” He says, “Report in. You’re not losing because you’re weak. You’re losing because you’re not fighting with the right weapons. Stop trying to fix it — and become a good soldier of Christ.”

What part of being a soldier for Christ challenges you most?