Finally…

Finally. 

That’s how Paul starts the last stretch of Ephesians. After all the soaring language about being chosen, adopted, sealed, raised, seated, made alive, brought near, built together, and called to walk worthy… he says finally.

It lands like he’s been holding his breath.

Everything before this wasn’t the destination. It was the runway.

He spent five chapters telling us who we are in Christ and how that identity reshapes marriage, parenting, work, speech, anger, and community. Then he turns and says, in effect: Now that you know who you are and Whose you are—stand. Be strong in the Lord. Put on the whole armor. This is what it was all for.

The armor isn’t for a private spiritual mood. It’s for a public war. And the war has a mission.

Look where he lands only a few verses later. After describing the belt, breastplate, shoes, shield, helmet, and sword, Paul doesn’t end with “now go live a quiet, protected life.” He asks them to pray for him:

That words would be given him, that he would open his mouth boldly, that he would proclaim the mystery of the gospel, that he—an ambassador in chains—would declare it as he ought.

The “finally” wasn’t just for them. It was for him too.

Paul knows the truth he spent five chapters unpacking is not meant to stay inside the church. It is meant to be spoken. The armor is so we can stand in the truth, live in the truth, and speak in the truth. The purpose of standing strong in the Lord is not simply so that you can stand strong in the Lord. The purpose of standing strong in the Lord is so the good news of what King Jesus has done for us and in us can flow through us. 

When I read “Finally, be strong in the Lord,” I hear him saying: This is why I wrote all of this. Not so you would merely understand your position in Christ, but so you would stand in it long enough, and strong enough, to tell someone else the gospel.

Including me. Especially me.

Lord, make that “finally” land on us the same way. After all You’ve shown us about who we are in You, don’t let us stop at knowing. Give us words. Give us boldness. Make us ambassadors—even when it costs something. Let the truth of Who You are lead us to open our mouths.