O Lord, my Lord, the strength of my salvation, You have covered my head in the day of battle. Grant not, O Lord, the desires of the wicked; do not further their evil plot, or they will be exalted. (Verses 7-8)
Finally, be strong in the Lord and the strength of His might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle with flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in high places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Ephesians 6 Italics, mine
I know what it's like to fight with the enemy! I propose there are four things we Christians tend to do in battle. Stand and fight. Play dead. Run and hide. Die. As in any war, training sure helps. Drilling. Marching. Disciplining our bodies in readiness for the day when the enemy appears. Learning to be focused. I watched the Band of Brothers series recently and was struck by the thought: How did anyone survive that war? Running into enemy fire with their rifles out, dodging grenades and mortars from tanks. The battlefields were afterward strewn with bodies of the dead from both sides of the conflict.
We Christians wake up to war every day. It's the hope of our enemy that we don't know it...or think about it. So off we go without our armor, forgetful of our training, one shoe on and one shoe off...oops, no helmet. Is it any wonder we get obliterated? And much of the time we don't know what hit us.
I was engaged in the battle of my life a few years back. A captive behind enemy lines for a while, I was relearning and retraining for this constant battle in which we exist as Christians. I had a prayer closet in my house. Dark and safe with the coats that hung unused in the southern California climate touching me with their edges and the many boxes stored around the baseboards of the closet closing me in in a cocoon of sorts. There I fought my way back to life. Every day. All authority in heaven and earth has been given to Christ and He has given it to me, so Satan, I tell you, in the name of Jesus Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit and in the presence of the God of All, my Father, no weapon formed against me will prosper. Here, I literally took up a phantom sword in my right hand and lifted a phantom shield in my left. Covered my heart with the shield and pointed the sword toward the enemy. Crazy, maybe. Effective. Yep. You have been stripped of all your authority at the cross of Christ and you have none over me. So I command you to be gone, to stay completely away from my path and to shut up! Always, always...I actually felt the enemy back off. Some days it took a bit longer with me articulating things thrown at me from him, but always Christ in me was larger than the blackness of the battle. I still do this to this day.
One morning right after my closet wars, my phone rang. It was a friend who knew my struggles and made them hers. It was Marlana. "What have you been doing?" she asked. "Praying." My response. "I've been praying for you," she went on, "and...I see you...well, what is that you have in your hand? When I was praying I saw you with your hand straight out in front of you...like you were holding something."
Marlana lived in another state. Couldn't see me in my closet physically. No one could.
"It's my sword." She knew what I meant.
"Oh...makes sense now," she replied.
I wasn't in my battle alone. Only God could have my friend praying for me as I fought against the enemy. Only God could have opened up my battlefield to her. Had her come along side me even though she wasn't physically present. My war buddy. Dodging bullets with me in this literal war we fight. An interesting fact about us. I introduced Marlana to Jesus when I was a twenty-one-year-old high school teacher and she was a freshman. I taught her the Word of God and was given the privilege of training her up. And when my conflict was too heavy for me to bear alone, she was there to help me deflect the barrage of artillery.
God is the strength of my every battle. In fact, the battle is really His (2 Chronicles 20). And He's won it. The final outcome is set. He does, however, want us armed and ready to stand in the day...not play dead, actually be overcome and die or run and hide. Stand. Be ready. And cover your most vulnerable parts, head and heart, with your sure salvation and with the Word of God. "Do not be afraid, and do not be dismayed at this great horde," said our God. "Stand firm and hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf!" ( 2 Chronicles 20)
Finally, be strong in the Lord and the strength of His might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle with flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in high places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. Ephesians 6 Italics, mine
I know what it's like to fight with the enemy! I propose there are four things we Christians tend to do in battle. Stand and fight. Play dead. Run and hide. Die. As in any war, training sure helps. Drilling. Marching. Disciplining our bodies in readiness for the day when the enemy appears. Learning to be focused. I watched the Band of Brothers series recently and was struck by the thought: How did anyone survive that war? Running into enemy fire with their rifles out, dodging grenades and mortars from tanks. The battlefields were afterward strewn with bodies of the dead from both sides of the conflict.
We Christians wake up to war every day. It's the hope of our enemy that we don't know it...or think about it. So off we go without our armor, forgetful of our training, one shoe on and one shoe off...oops, no helmet. Is it any wonder we get obliterated? And much of the time we don't know what hit us.
I was engaged in the battle of my life a few years back. A captive behind enemy lines for a while, I was relearning and retraining for this constant battle in which we exist as Christians. I had a prayer closet in my house. Dark and safe with the coats that hung unused in the southern California climate touching me with their edges and the many boxes stored around the baseboards of the closet closing me in in a cocoon of sorts. There I fought my way back to life. Every day. All authority in heaven and earth has been given to Christ and He has given it to me, so Satan, I tell you, in the name of Jesus Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit and in the presence of the God of All, my Father, no weapon formed against me will prosper. Here, I literally took up a phantom sword in my right hand and lifted a phantom shield in my left. Covered my heart with the shield and pointed the sword toward the enemy. Crazy, maybe. Effective. Yep. You have been stripped of all your authority at the cross of Christ and you have none over me. So I command you to be gone, to stay completely away from my path and to shut up! Always, always...I actually felt the enemy back off. Some days it took a bit longer with me articulating things thrown at me from him, but always Christ in me was larger than the blackness of the battle. I still do this to this day.
One morning right after my closet wars, my phone rang. It was a friend who knew my struggles and made them hers. It was Marlana. "What have you been doing?" she asked. "Praying." My response. "I've been praying for you," she went on, "and...I see you...well, what is that you have in your hand? When I was praying I saw you with your hand straight out in front of you...like you were holding something."
Marlana lived in another state. Couldn't see me in my closet physically. No one could.
"It's my sword." She knew what I meant.
"Oh...makes sense now," she replied.
I wasn't in my battle alone. Only God could have my friend praying for me as I fought against the enemy. Only God could have opened up my battlefield to her. Had her come along side me even though she wasn't physically present. My war buddy. Dodging bullets with me in this literal war we fight. An interesting fact about us. I introduced Marlana to Jesus when I was a twenty-one-year-old high school teacher and she was a freshman. I taught her the Word of God and was given the privilege of training her up. And when my conflict was too heavy for me to bear alone, she was there to help me deflect the barrage of artillery.
God is the strength of my every battle. In fact, the battle is really His (2 Chronicles 20). And He's won it. The final outcome is set. He does, however, want us armed and ready to stand in the day...not play dead, actually be overcome and die or run and hide. Stand. Be ready. And cover your most vulnerable parts, head and heart, with your sure salvation and with the Word of God. "Do not be afraid, and do not be dismayed at this great horde," said our God. "Stand firm and hold your position, and see the salvation of the Lord on your behalf!" ( 2 Chronicles 20)
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