Mental images twist and turn. Imagined scenarios replay and loop. There, in the recesses of my mind, my expert cross-examination and defense win justice. Silly, this sounds. But with a confrontation soon arising, I could not shake the mental footage. It consumed. It festered. It controlled.
Even as I lay awake at 4 a.m., I knew the enemy’s strategy. It was a diversion. An effective one. Keep thoughts and energy focused solely on the injustice and the fight. Not on Jesus. And certainly not on laying it down. Yet, I could not stop. I couldn’t even disembark. Every attempt to disengage resulted in a runaway train. Help me, Lord, I inwardly begged, help me take each thought captive. But the train chugged on. Into the next morning the battle waged. Every scenario role played in my head. Talons sunk deep and My eyes struggled to fix upon Jesus. Each time, I was derailed. And with each failure, discouragement set in. Soon, I found myself battling not just the transgressor in my mind, but myself. But God’s Word is a weapon. It is the double-edged sword of the Spirit. It thrusts and parries. It blocks yet advances. It slashes but shields. So to His Word I fled. And to the book of Nehemiah, I turned. Nehemiah, an exiled Israelite, mourned for the Jewish survivors, Jerusalem and its broken walls. He cried out for the remnant, desolate city, and requested to go rebuild the walls. God granted him wisdom, favor, strategy, and success. As I sat and studied, God opened my eyes. He gave a new vision. And HE broke my heart for our country. Raise up Nehemiah’s in our land, I cried out. And give them the battle strategies to rebuild our prayer walls. Over and over my spirit pleaded. But as my soul cried, something happened. Something new. A personal strategy for my own battle arose. A phrase murmured. Could it be? Then, with head bowed, I silently uttered the words to the video playing in my head. The battle is Yours, Lord, I breathed, the battle is Yours. To my surprise, the video halted. It stopped. But almost instantaneously, it started again. For Satan does not like letting go. The serpent of old persists with deadly vigor. But Christ has already won. And through Him, we claim the victory. “The battle is Yours,” I whispered again. Mental arguments still cross-examine. Movies still played. But now I was armed for war. So when the next video started rolling, I spoke aloud. “The battle is Yours, Lord, the battle is Yours.” Over and over the barrage continued. But so did I. Persistence of proclaiming God’s prayer of promise firmed my resolve. Each movie, each thought, each worry, each argument was now met with a prayer, promise, and a truth. And the talons which gripped tight now loosened. The pressure released. And I began to breathe. With every utterance, with every proclamation, strength grew and angst diminished. Where I began in a whisper, I now shouted. “The fight is Yours! The fight is Yours! It is not my battle, it is Yours!” Dishes clanked. Fists pounded. Hands raised. “The battle is Yours!” And of all things, praise began swelling. Where mortal combat once death gripped my every thought, freedom surged alive. Praise filled my every pore. Praise to God for the battle strategy He gave. Praise I was no longer captive but free. Praise for the laying down and surrender. Praise that the battle was no longer mine. And praise for not needing to know the outcome of my confrontation because I already knew the outcome of the war. And almost as if God had choreographed it Himself, Matt Maher’s Alive and Breathing song came on the radio, joining my jubilation. (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cb8laAy5zHs) “Let everything, let everything, let everything, praise the Lord!” Leaning over, I cranked up the volume. Soon, I sang not only the words but yelled them at the top of my lungs. So filled with gratitude and joy, I began to jump and dance on my kitchen floor. Hands lifted high, my fingers spread wide in abandon. “Joy still comes in the morning, hope still walks with the hurting… If you’re still alive and singing, praise the Lord!!” And with dirty pots and dishes as spectators, I danced as David danced and praised the Lord. For the battle is not ours dear friends. It is God’s and God’s alone. The God of angel armies fights for us. He goes before us. He guards us from behind. Who else better to fight for us then all powerful, almighty God who knows the hidden motives of man? Whom better to lay down our burdens? Whom better to take up our fight? And with these four simple words, I lay down the instruments of my own making to surrender my fight before the Lord. This is how we do battle. This is how we fight a spiritual war. This is our battle strategy.
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AuthorMarried to my best friend for over 20 years, my husband and I are the proud (and often exhausted!) parents of a vivacious kindergatener. As a vision-impaired mom, prayer and trust in the Lord play a vital and moment-to-moment role in my life. Read more ... Follow me:
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