James Chapter 5 Part 1

​“…the prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.”
(James 5:16, NIV)

A Prayer Over Our Children

Help my daughter stand patient and firm that she may be kept from grumbling. Bless her with Your compassion and mercy that she may persevere and endure with great faithfulness and joy. Hear her, oh God, and form her to be faithful and righteous so her prayers will be like that of Elijah’s. Save her from death, oh Lord, and keep her from wandering away from You. ...

This past month, I have worked hard to create order, peace, and harmony within my household. New schedules, goals, routines, and mental repurposing of mind undergirded my determination to make a difference. Goodbye to the dishes sitting in the sink overnight, audios to toys strewn all over the floor, and hasta le vista to wasted chunks of time. New purpose, new direction, and new focus of mind rebirthed to reach a worthy end goal. 
     
And, it was working! With a new schedule, greater intentionality, and mindfulness of purpose, order, peace, and harmony began to emerge from the everyday chaos. Time with the Lord had been scheduled, physical exercise was commencing, and lost minutes were finally claimed to wash up dishes, pack lunches, and fold laundry. For if you are like me, when things are going smoothly, when the house is maintained, and my time is well-prioritized tween God, family, household, and calling, I am the most effective, joyful, and productive. With the critical and supportive elements necessary for spiritual, emotional, and physical health now etched into the daily routine and the hierarchy of priority now re-established, things were getting done; legs pounded the treadmill, Kingdom work advanced, and time with God flourished. 
     
But Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy. So, it should be no surprise that after a period of time when peace, order, harmony, and productivity reigned large in my household, that the Enemy would want to tear it down. It started on a day when the heavens were declaring their mysteries and proclaiming their revelations that the onslaught occurred. 
     
A sudden cough, dripping nose, congestion, and a weighty headache developed out of nowhere on the ride home from our first Christian writer’s critique group meeting. Ever so slight with its pressure on my eyeballs, by the time I walked through the front door, it felt like a 50lb weight was sitting on the top of my head. My eyelids were pasted shut and it took all my strength to open one eye.
     
I stumbled into the door and up the stairs to my husband with my eyes pinched shut.
     
“I’m going to bed, now.” I announced through closed eyelids. The pressure on my forehead and eyes were so intense now that I felt like I was being flattened by an olive press with my brain ready to squirt out like olive oil. 
     
“Okay,” replied my husband, looking up from the papers scattered across his desk, “I hope you feel better.”
     
“Thanks,” I mumbled, stumbling down the stairs to the kitchen. I still needed to pack lunches. All I wanted to do was get the task over with and go directly to bed. Never mind the dirty dishes in the sink, the dish washing machine that needed emptied, the crumbs and mess on the counter, or prayer time with my husband. 
     
Yet, even as I turned on the kitchen light, a small voice spoke to my spirit. What is the cause of your headache? Whispered the words across my soul, is it a coincidence that it feels like a monkey is sitting on you? Like bubbles floating beyond the surface of the water’s edge, the gentle voice transcended the pressure upon my head and cut through the unyielding force.
     
With dawning clarity, an inner light illuminated the unexpected choice which stood before me. I could let this unnatural weight across my temples dictate my actions and cause me to flee thereby robbing me of the very order, peace, and harmony which I had worked so hard to attain. For if I yielded to my impulse of crawling into bed and turning the light off, this evening’s mess would pile upon tomorrow morning’s chaos thus ripping the threads of order and peace from the fabric of my household. Most importantly, it would rob me of precious time in prayer with my husband, a priceless weapon wielded against the Enemy and one which also bound our hearts together in greater love and unity of body, soul, and spirit. 
     
In the middle of the kitchen floor, I wavered with indecision. Although I knew it was not wrong for me to toss in the towel for the evening, the thought of giving up ground gained from the enemy, tasted bitter in my mouth. Peace, order, and harmony takes work to maintain. It requires a blend of the spiritual, emotional, and physical environment unique to each household – that elixir of the seen and unseen mixed with what is felt, said, heard, and acted upon. To me, it sometimes feels like a precarious balance in that if just one piece falls, then it will topple the next which will then cause a rippling domino effect.     

Unfortunately, as I stood in my kitchen surrounded by clutter, it already felt like the newly established order was crumbling. Food still stood on the kitchen counters, waiting to be plastic wrapped and refrigerated. Dishes needed washed and the dishwashing machine emptied. Lunches needed packed and the counter wiped clean. Perhaps it was the cacophony of all these combined loose ends which firmed my resolve or perhaps it was my stubborn refusal to give Satan even an inch, but suddenly I knew what choice I would make despite the mounting tension across my temples. 
     
With eyes barely open and new purpose fueling the fire, I started my battle cry. “Satan,” I slowly spoke the words aloud, “I rebuke you.” Then, through gritted teeth, came my determined declaration. “You will not steal my peace.” My fists clenched. “You will not destroy the order of my home.” I shook a finger at my unseen adversary. “And You will not rob me of time with my Lord and my husband,” finished my proclamation.

Then with purposeful strides towards the dishwasher, I girded my mind up for war. It did not matter that I moved with snail-like speed nor that my brain coughed and sputtered. All that mattered was holding onto the high ground and standing strong against the Enemy. For victory can triumph in the smallest of faithful measures with slow yet steady steps. Infinitesimal the victory may be, it is the persistence to endure and the ability to march onward undergirded by the Rock of Jesus Christ who gives us strength to overcome. And it is this very Rock with whom I now sought in earnest to help me win the battle.
     
Help me Lord and give me strength, I inwardly pleaded. Arm me for battle and keep me alert to Satan’s schemes. The weight on my head intensified as if to bear down and crush me. My eyelids drooped downward from the pressure but stubbornly I forced them open. Give me the strength to persevere and not surrender, I pleaded once more. 
     
Then, as light as butterfly wings, a song floated up from the oceans deep, ushering in strength and peaceful assurance. In Heavenly armor, we’ll enter the land. The battle belongs to the Lord, came the words of old. They flowed over and through me, filling me with their promise and lighting my path. No weapon that’s fashioned against us shall stand. The battle belongs to the Lord. The battle belongs to the Lord. The reminder of these simple yet profound truths rang out in the stillness, resonating deep within and furnished fuel to the fire.
     
With new life-blood coursing through my veins, I pushed through the dead weight against my temples and advanced forward. 
     
“Satan, I rebuke you,” I repeated, yanking open the dishwasher and pulling out the trays. “You will NOT steal my peace.” Plates clanked to their places in the cupboards, food flew into their chilled abodes, and dirty dishes were thrown into the now empty dishwasher. “You will NOT destroy my order.” I grabbed the peanut butter and jelly. With bread and a knife, sandwiches appeared, and lunches were made. “And you will NOT rob me of my time,” I declared as I dumped the sandwiches in lunchboxes. 
     
With each action, each step forward, and each completed task, the vise grips on my brain loosened. Soon thee heavy weighted pressure began to diminish. The more ground I conquered and claimed back from the Enemy, the more the tight band across my eyes seemed to lessen. By the time my blue cloth wiped down the counter, my eyelids remained open on their own accord and the pressure on my forehead was bearable. 
     
As I turned off the light switch and headed up the stairs to my husband, I could not help but revel in the hard-won battle that had just waged war in my kitchen. Victory through the blood of Christ had undergirded my weakness and granted perseverance to overcome. The battle had, indeed, belonged to the Lord. 

Dear friends and fellow parents, I wish I could say that this battle was finished, but 3 days later, it reared its ugly head. Although a temporary respite lulled the household into false slumber, Satan comes to kill, steal, and destroy for he is a roaring lion prowling to consume us. But, be encouraged. IF we stay alert, clear-minded, and self-controlled, we can begin to dismantle and thwart the Enemy’s advances by putting on the full armor of God. Join me next time in the continuation of this tale of triumph as we claim victory over our attitudes and victory in the storm. ​

A Parent's Prayer

Oh Lord, when I am broken, and I am weak. Grant me strength to persevere and overcome in the battle. Keep me aware, alert, and self-controlled so that I might stand against the schemes of Satan and of man. Oh Lord, I plead that You will take control over my household and infiltrate it with Your peace, order, and light. Unite our hearts together as one and grant me favor, oh God.