June 2025
The Knight in Rusty Armor — Robert Fisher
The first time I read The Knight in Rusty Armor, I was just starting to work with a life coach. I didn’t fully know what I was getting into — I just knew I was stuck. I felt weighed down by things I couldn’t name, hiding behind an identity I had worked hard to create but no longer trusted. That book cracked something open in me back then. Now, reading it again — this time with the intention of becoming a life coach, someone who walks others through their own armor — it hits deeper. Sharper. Truer.
This little allegory has a way of disarming you. At first it seems like a fable, even a joke. A knight can’t remove his own armor? Really? But page by page, it becomes a mirror. I see myself in the knight — addicted to doing good, but avoiding being known. Busy proving my worth, but terrified of being vulnerable. Wearing a mask so long I forgot who I was beneath it.
The Journey Through the Forest of Life
The knight’s journey through the Forest of Life, to the Castle of Silence, Knowledge, and Will and Daring — it’s all metaphor, but every castle felt like a part of my own process. The Castle of Silence reminded me how afraid I used to be of stillness — that if I stopped doing, I’d fall apart. But it’s only in silence that I began to hear God. And myself.
The Castle of Knowledge — that’s where I started learning the painful truth: that I’d been hiding my shame behind achievement, control, and image. The knight had to confront his illusions and distorted self-perception — and so did I. I saw how my armor wasn’t just a defense — it had become a prison. Same as my old habits, the lies I told myself, the isolation I carried.
Then came the Castle of Will and Daring — maybe the hardest part. That castle asks: Are you willing to change, really change? Am I willing to shed the armor, even if it means being seen — with my wounds, regrets, and fears laid bare? That part of the story reminded me that transformation isn’t just reflection — it’s action. It’s commitment. It’s surrender.
The Tears That Rust the Armor
I’ve cried a lot over the past few years — in jail, in prayer, in silence. And in the story, the knight’s armor finally begins to rust away from his own tears. That image undid me. Because my own tears have done the same — broken me open, softened my pride, washed away pieces of the false self. In many ways, I had to lose everything to be found. And now, I can see those tears not as failure, but as freedom.
Why This Book Matters Now
Coming back to The Knight in Rusty Armor while preparing to coach others feels poetic. I’m not the same man who read it the first time. I’ve fallen harder, broken more deeply, but I’ve also rebuilt — more honest, more present, more whole. And now I want to walk with other “knights” — men and women who are armored up, hiding their hearts, exhausted from trying to prove their worth — and guide them toward peeling it all off.
Not because I have all the answers, but because I’ve walked that road.
This book reminded me that we don’t need better masks — we need deeper courage. The courage to feel. To heal. To love again. To believe that we’re already enough, not because of what we do, but because of who we are — created, seen, and loved by God.
How I Will Keep Changing Because of It
· I will notice when I’m putting the armor back on — through control, performance, or avoidance — and choose to take it off.
· I’ll hold space for silence, even when it’s uncomfortable, because that’s where truth and God often meet me.
· I’ll help others feel safe enough to begin shedding their armor too — as a coach, a father, and a man walking toward integrity.
· I’ll remember that tears are holy, and that vulnerability is a strength, not a weakness.
· I’ll keep following the path — not toward perfection, but toward authenticity and love.
This story doesn’t end with a knight who rides off into glory — it ends with one who finally sees himself, and who can finally be himself. That’s my story too. And if I can help someone else do the same — even one person — then the pain, the journey, the rusted armor… it’s all worth it.
