Halloween guest post: the other guy

Ha. 

Got you. 

Once again. Your people - your bunch of stupid sheep - the ones you're so proud of. It doesn't take much, does it? Heh heh heh.

There aren't many opportunities as good as this, you know. You've closed so many of them down, but not this, not yet, it seems. What is it? Too much for you? Is it some sort of test for the sheep? If so, you must be shaking your head in disappointment. 

Me?  Ha. I love it.

Halloween. You know, it's only a bit of fun. It's all for the children. They say that about Christmas too, don't they? It's for the children really... oh, it makes me smile. Let them think that Halloween is just a bit of fun for the children; nothing sinister at all. You know what? If they're offering the children, I'll take them. Sounds good to me.

What was it that guy said, one of the Big Guns, wasn't he?  CS Lewis? Something about believing that I don't exist? Oh yes, so many people believe that. They're the ones who think that it's all just fun and games. While they go about thinking that it doesn't matter, I am free to do just as I want. 

I love the stuff they can buy from the supermarket these days. Some of it is really gruesome. I've known  small kids start to cry when they see the masks and costumes and decorations. Kids see me, sometimes, you know, they see things as they are, but by the time they're old enough to explain why they're so spooked, the adults have talked them into thinking it's all just a bit of fun. The Halloween merchandising seems to get more and more explicit and it's just lovely. The dead and decaying, evil, nasty, scary...it's beautifully dark; and then there are pumpkins. Admit I'm a bit baffled about pumpkins; nothing inherently evil about pumpkins - but I'm working on it. I like it when they take a pumpkin and cut a nice aggressive face on it. Something that gives the littlest ones nightmares. 

They dress their kids up, you know. They put witches' costumes on them, or disguise them as demons or murderers or corpses and douse them in red food colouring. They have nooses and knives and missing eyes and all that lovely disturbing stuff. They make them look as if they've been dismembered or as if they're one of my very own. Why on earth would they do that? The rest of the year we struggle to get them to take us seriously and then, on This Day each October they come to us, ready and willing. They just invite us in. 

And we never refuse an invitation. It'd be rude, wouldn't it?

I don't think they know where it all came from, do they? The Druids and their human sacrifices, all the blood and pain and fear. They thought that on this night each year the demons roamed free and in order to keep themselves safe they sacrificed their children to appease us. The Night of the Dead. Love it. 

Nothing changes. They think they're sophisticated but the more things change, the more they stay the same.

They think it's about sweets and chocolate and orange and black and so on, but they're commemorating evil. They're lifting me high and I love it. I don't often get to see the view from up here. I have the time of my life. If they knew, would it still be a bit of fun? Yeah, I know, probably. They don't have much common sense, do they? I'm so glad that they don't. If one day it turned out that they saw it all for exactly what it is they probably wouldn't be so quick to dress up their little darlings as demons. 

But while they do... heh heh heh. This is my time. This is the night when it's ok to dwell on all that's evil and nasty and corrupt and unhealthy, even in polite society. When I become socially acceptable. Most of the time they don't think about me much but tonight I am the guest of honour. Not you! You know that bit in your Bible where you tell them to contemplate all the good and wholesome things? All the 'pure and noble and honest and whatever...' you know that bit? Ha! Not tonight, my friend. Tonight they think about all the other stuff. I positively encourage it. 

And you know what? So much angst. So many Christians feel uneasy about Halloween but don't really know what to do about it. Can it really do any harm? And all their little friends are having Halloween Parties and the little souls so want to dress up and witches don't exist really, do they? Any more than ghosts? So surely it wouldn't do any harm, as long as we don't frighten the neighbours? 

Oh I love it. 

On the subject of neighbours, that's just an added bonus. I hadn't really thought much beyond human sacrifice and scaring the pants of small kids, but then they thought up the Trick or Treat thing! Oh, beautiful. Dress their children up as death or despair or destruction and send 'em round to the old people. Ask them for sweets or throw eggs at the window. Demand money or chocolate or squirt shaving foam through the letterbox. And as for the teenagers who don't have shivering, indulgent mummies at the end of the drive... they get up to Real Mischief. And the icing on the cake is that so many people are so afraid of visitors that they sit in the dark pretending to be out and they're nervous in case the doorbell goes and their houses are full of unease and apprehension and anxiety. Right up my street, and I didn't have to do a thing.

Such fun. I really have fun on 31 October. It's the best bit of the year. All of a sudden I'm legitimate. I'm the One they want to be with. I'm the Main Man. Not you. Oh no, not you. You're the party-pooper.

I am Darkness, and for one night, darkness is where it's at. They like the thrill. They're deceived into thinking that it's all about fun - and I am the Deceiver. It may be only a small opening but I'm in there quicker than you can say 'resist the devil and he will flee from you'. Tonight - they don't resist me. They open the door and offer me chocolate. Chocolate shaped like little demons. I eat it all up. 

I know - don't start. There are some that belong to you and they know the power they have, but most of them don't. They don't have the first clue. They don't realise they need power, I don't think. While they think it's all harmless fun, I'm doing fine.

Trouble comes when they know the dark for what it is - that's when I come unstuck. When the light penetrates the darkness, then it gets uncomfortable. When every dark and cobwebbed corner is lit up like a Christmas tree -yes, I know what I said - that's when I'd rather just creep back under my stone. 

I like easy prey. It's like the car with the immobiliser to a car thief. Struggle to take that one, or the one in front, with the door unlocked and the keys in the ignition? Easy all the way. That house, they love you, sadly, I'll give it a miss; this one here there's a rotting corpse by the door and 'blood' on the driveway and they're just waiting with open arms to welcome me home.

Do I really get a chance to find a way in, you know, a real way into their lives where I get to stay after Halloween? Well, don't underestimate me. You'd be surprised. Well, you wouldn't, but they would. Give me an inch and I'll take a mile. I'll take whatever I can get.

Don't send the light. Please? Let them have their little games. Leave them alone for once, will you? Give me a break. It's all just harmless fun. I don't like it when you have them carve a pumpkin with little hearts for eyes and one of your crosses for a nose and big smiles. I don't like it when they pray at these parties. When they look upwards instead of downwards. I don't like it when they keep their kids close to them and sign them with your blessed sign instead of dripping blood. 

In the name of all that's holy.

I like it dark and I like mess. I like fear and screams and trembling. They think it's just a thrill but I Am Right There. 

And when they point at the Christians who complain about the bodies in Tesco and Sainsbury? When they say they're over-reacting and they should just chill out and have a bit of fun? Oh yes. Love it. 

It's getting dark. It'll soon be time. Just stay out of it, will you? 

The battle of good and evil continues, and tonight... 

It's the Night of the Dead. For the lost. It's time for Me. I shall make the most of it.

Come on in. We've got witches in the kitchen, zombies in the hall, demons in the living room and all manner of depravity in the conservatory. All this and nibbles too!

Heh heh heh. I know, they're only kids. It's just a bit of fun. Don't the adults know better?

I hope not. 

Light at the end of the tunnel

Well, Lord, there is light at the end of the tunnel, and although I know that you were fully aware of it, this has come as a bit of a surprise to me, to be honest. I know that tunnels usually have light at the end of them, but this one has been unlike any other tunnel that I've been in. It's been darker and more unfamiliar and frightening than anything I've known before. The last few days have been dark indeed, and for a few days there I couldn't see even a speck of light in the distance.

Turns out the tunnel had a bend in it. The other side was there, and closer than I thought, but I just couldn't see it.

My God, what a few days it's been. I've been so down. Today I feel better; I wouldn't say I have a spring in my step, but I definitely feel a bit better. I sat here in front of my computer earlier on and suddenly thought, 'Do I feel better?'

Coffee mug halfway to my mouth, I stopped and considered it and to my surprise, it turns out that I did feel better, yes.

So what happened? (Do you want to say, or shall I?)

I've got to hand it to you; this prayer thing works. You answered my prayer and I can only thank you and thank you and thank you. I've been frightened and you came to rescue me. I was like a rabbit in the middle of a road and it felt as if I were paralysed in the face of a juggernaut coming to flatten me.

Five days ago I took hold of my life and decided that things were going to be different. I wasn't going to live in the shadow of fear and doubt and anger and dissatisfaction and half-heartedness any more. I prayed with some very patient, wise people and I committed myself to some pretty profound changes. Some of the stuff I was trying to get rid of has been troubling me since childhood, so it went pretty deep. So that was then.

The following day, as you know (because you were watching) I woke up feeling dreadful. I was so, so depressed that I felt knocked sideways and that hopeless feeling persisted for the next three days. Tearful and defeated, all the negative thoughts that I'd been trying to banish were back only much worse. Why did I think that this would work for me?  I couldn't do anything right. I was just a failure. I couldn't pray because I couldn't find any words. I didn't want to read my daily notes or look at the Bible and I very strongly didn't want to listen to the worship music in the car, which I usually find really helpful. I felt claustrophobic and panicky and I actually found it hard to breathe once or twice. And I couldn't find anything that I was capable of doing about it.

I didn't do anything at all to help myself until last night I managed to read out loud some Bible verses that I found in a book to help with exactly what I was going through. In floods of tears, again, I lay in bed and cried out to you and you heard me. I managed to pray a bit. Only a bit, but you really do take my meagre little offerings and honour them with riches, don't you, my God?

This morning it felt like dawn. I just felt lighter. Not euphoric, or ecstatic, but the misery had lifted. I feel bruised, but not mortally wounded, as I did. I feel vulnerable and a bit fragile, but not defeated. I am not defeated after all. You answered my prayer.

Whatever battle was going on in my head might not yet be over, but I know that I am on the winning team, and the darkness is receding. My Saviour came for me. I know this sounds dramatic, but it was. It is.

I don't know what it was all about. A wise friend of mine said that such an experience is like the death throes of the old ways of thinking; the negativity and fear that I'd renounced wasn't taking it lying down; the enemy wasn't going to give up easily. A tug of war was taking place and I was the poor unfortunate hosting the competition. Is that it? I still have so much to learn in this area. I feel so uncomfortable talking about it at all.

I don't think that I'm out of the woods yet; I have some pretty difficult things coming up and I don't feel particularly robust emotionally. Soon I have another appointment with Katy's consultant where we'll decide on her new treatment programme and I don't really like either of the options we're so far presented with. I need to be strong because if I feel like this I think I might cry on the nice man who's only trying to help us. I am stronger than I was a few days ago. What an eternity has happened for me in the last few days.

I don't want to go through that again.

The thing is, I have had a glimpse of something. If anything positive can come out of the awful way I've been feeling since last week (other than the obvious), it's that I've had a chance to see how appalling it must be to wake up every morning feeling this way, with no end in sight. Once I had spoken to someone who had done this before me, I was reassured that if I hung on in there, there was an end to it. The light at the end of the tunnel. I needed to stick it out. But what if there is no light? What if there's only unrelieved misery as far as the eye can see?

I had a chance to taste the darkness of depression. After my children came, both times I think I probably had mild post natal depression; the sort of tearful, exhausted, despairing gloom that perhaps many new mums go through. It was horrible; I didn't enjoy it a bit, but it was nothing on the scale of this. This was bleak, and after a comparatively short while I had a glimmer of hope when I was told that it was temporary. What if someone has no such assurance?

Not knowing how far you have to travel by feeling your way before light illuminates the path again, if it ever will? Feeling blind and fumbling along. Merciful Lord Jesus, bring the people I know about who are depressed out of their dark tunnels. I understand a little bit better how they feel and it breaks my heart. No-one can see the world through someone else's eyes, or think their thoughts, or feel their emotions, but I had a try at something in the last few days that just gave me an idea of what it might be like.

You know, the sense of being cut off from you was terrible. I was casting about for help - my closest friends away on holiday, my usual props - my Bible, my daily readings, my music just didn't feel accessible to me. You were too far to see, let alone reach.  I was separated from my Father. Is that how you felt as you suffered on the cross, Lord Jesus? How much worse it must have been for you than for me. The light of my relationship with my heavenly Father is like a little candle stub at best; it burns brightly or dimly, but it's small and insignificant in comparison with the floodlit, dazzling day of your communion with your Father. And because of us, because of me, that light was extinguished for a time.

How terrible must that have been for you? I cannot imagine the sheer weight of it. All I know is that for me, it was awful. I cried, and I was afraid, and I was desperate. My God, what you did that first Easter is huge, isn't it? Bigger than my imagination.

So I'm back. And I have learned. Oh yes.

I belong to you.

Thankyou for rescuing me. I'm glad to see the light again. Do you remember that some months ago I said, 'Show me what you want from me. Make me the person you want me to be.' Of course you do. Nothing gets past you, does it?

I think I can definitely conclude that you have been working on me, aren't you? Even I can see that I am not the person I was six months ago. I said, 'Bring it on!' and you took me at my word. And, I think, so has the other guy.

So here I am, bruised and tear-stained, but not beaten, and I'll say it again:

I am your child and the devil cannot touch me.

Holding on

Lord God, today I feel as if I am clinging on to a tree as a wind tries to sweep me away. Holding onto a railing as a tsunami crashes against me. I'm holding on with all my strength and holding on is all I can do because my feet have been swept out from under me and my eyes are screwed up shut and my head is down on my chest. It's a good job I have something firm to hold onto. That's you.

I still feel pretty low today but the difference is that I have a better hold of what it is that I'm holding on to. I've been reminded today of your permanence, and the simplicity of it all; that I don't have to do anything, because Jesus did it, and does it. I just have to hang on. So I feel as if I've been reduced to the simplest, most fundamental thing; I'm hanging on and just trusting that you will win this battle on my behalf. I can't do it, but you can. 

So the voices in my head that say, 'You can't do this'; no, I can't. But my heavenly Father can. When they say, 'Why do you think you're special?' I can reply 'I am special because I am God's child'. When I hear that I can do nothing right I can say that although I am flawed, I am made perfect in Christ. 

'I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.'

Philippians 4:13

I can do this. 

I feel so much better knowing that it's normal to feel so bad after having made a stand. It makes sense with my limited understanding that if someone tries to stride closer to you that they would feel a hand on their shirt trying to pull them back. I feel as if there are a million hands pulling and pulling; a million voices reminding me of all my weaknesses and failures and difficulties and all the times that I've taken one step forward - and then two (or more) back. All the times I've given up. 

I've been thinking that maybe because I had such a fallow period in my life, spiritually - about fourteen years - maybe I have after all have got to this point in my life with the spiritual maturity of a toddler. Maybe it's all too much for me and I'm trying to run before I can walk, but it's not true. I certainly don't have the wisdom of someone who has many more years in this than I do, but I am not helpless and I just want to follow the Master.  You can see my heart and I know that you can find the grain of faith in me and you won't let me down.

For someone who is quite feeling-driven, this is really hard. I can't sleep. I'm waking up feeling low and dark and short-tempered and emotional and nothing is really helping. The only way that today is different from yesterday is that I spoke to someone today who told me it's normal; she's been through it and it was like this for her too. That has helped so much. I don't feel crazy any more. Just tired and weighed down and discouraged and fearful. My head feels full of cotton wool and my eyes are sore. It sometimes feels hard to get my breath. Nothing matters very much.

I'll go on clinging. The tears are not very far away today and I can't raise much enthusiasm for anything, but I'm trying to look beyond the storm and towards the rainbow. I know the sun is still there even if thick clouds are shrouding it. Or at least, I believe that the sun is still there. 

Lord God, come and rescue me. Again. Blow away the clouds and let me feel your warmth and stand in your light. Don't let the wind and waves sweep me away. I know that you won't.  I know that you're fighting for me, Lord. I know that there's conflict and I know whose side I'm on, and I know that you have ultimately won the war. I'm not doing very much right now except holding on and waiting for you. 

I am your child. 

I am valuable because you value me. 

Isaiah 43:2

'When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.'

Amen. Even if I feel like I'm drowning.

Having a really bad day

Lord God, this is the first time since I started this blog that I can't really find anything to say. I suppose this is to be expected considering the state of my prayer life in general at the moment, but I have to admit that I've surprised myself by finding that I can't string some words together. I'm not usually lost for words.

I've had lots of interesting daily readings recently, but today I'm finding that inspiration isn't striking even by reading them back. Recounting the day's events wouldn't help as it's been a day completely devoid of positivity, on my part at least. It's the first day of the summer holidays, the children have played nicely (mostly) and Bryan is home, it's Friday night, but it's not helping today. 

I feel I've let you down, Father. I feel as if today I should be on top of the world because some wonderful things have happened to me in the last couple of days, and I have some great friends who have been so kind and generous with their love and their acceptance and their time; and above all I know that you are my loving, forgiving heavenly Father and I am your child. But I don't feel free and I don't feel as if I can get rid of the weight of stuff I'm carrying round. 

Today I've been short tempered and miserable. I had a cry earlier and thought that I might not stop but I had to pull myself together as I was in danger of frightening the kids.  I've forgotten to pick up Katy's new medicine today from the chemist despite my reminder system that has worked ok so far. What a terrible mother. Katy's tantrums haven't been anything out of the ordinary but today I've struggled to cope. I had to go outside earlier on because I thought my head would explode as she was shrieking so loudly and for so long. I got some gardening done this morning and Elizabeth has been lovely helping me shop this afternoon but my capacity for delight today is zero. I should be feeling happy and unburdened and light as a feather but I'm not; that familiar little voice in my head is telling me that I can't even get that right. Is there any wonder that I'm still a mile away from you? 

What is it, Lord? I believe the right things, I say the right things. I have renounced and I have declared and I have confessed and I have cried and I have prayed. I know that you are who you say you are and I want to be more like you. I don't want to struggle to keep up all the time. I don't want to feel destined to fail all my life. I just don't know how to give you all the rubbish in my life and leave it with you. I'm starting to think I'm going mad. 

I know that the negative voices in my head aren't real; or alternatively that they are real but they are not to be listened to.  They're lies. Some months ago I was feeling invincible and I asserted that there was nothing in the world or beyond it that could stop me from being who you want me to be, or stop me from winning the battle that is all around us, since I fight in your name. The following day I found a breast lump that the doctor thought was serious. It turned out not to be, but not until it'd shaken me profoundly. After that Katy had her operation that didn't work and one problem has followed another.  I haven't felt invincible since then, and it feels as if the day I asserted those things I was writing cheques I can't cash. I should feel invincible, because we have the victory in you, I haven't felt that confidence since that day. I've just been slowly sinking with the weight of  things on top of me. 

People have shown me how to overcome all this and it still isn't helping. I feel pathetic. I feel as if I can't even be honest about how I feel because it's getting silly.  There comes a point when people feel that they've helped all they can and there's something wrong with you if all their help hasn't helped, and I feel today as if that's where I am.  It's embarrassing to admit that people have talked and prayed and yet I can't seem to do my bit. Maybe there really is something wrong with me.

So, give me a hint, Lord. Is this hormonal, or am I just tired? The Holy Grail of the good night's sleep has eluded me recently, it's true, and since I've had the children I am all too aware of how a lack of sufficient sleep can distort things and make everything much darker. Maybe an early night and all will be well.

Is this the devil? All the thoughts that I have that bring tears to my eyes afresh each time; things like, 'You can't do this' and 'You can't get anything right' and 'why do you think this will be any different?' - they are not good thoughts. They are not your voice. How do you do that 'Take every thought captive' thing? I'm sorry - I can't seem to get the hang of it. 

I don't know how to. I want it to stop, because I can't seem to learn how to beat it myself.  I can't get control of it. I can't replace something that is obviously untrue with something true in time to stop the untrue thing from hurting me. I hear 'You can't get anything right' and although I can rationalise this and tell myself that it absolutely isn't true, in my life I have got lots of things right, there's a part of me that soaks it up and winces anyway.  It hurts me. If I don't believe it, why does it hurt? This is sounding increasingly bizarre, isn't it?  I need to get a grip. I'm going to stop.

Father God, I know that you can do anything, and I need you to do something here because I can't do it. I feel weighed down and I don't know how to shrug it off and leave it with you. I don't know how to put on the armour you've given me and I don't know how to use it in a fight. I know that you have the victory but I'm struggling to believe I have any chance of winning in this particular skirmish. Do I settle for just plodding along and being me? Just getting by? Meeting you in heaven and hearing, 'You could have done so much more?' 

Am I over-thinking this whole thing?  It's not beyond the realms of possibility that this whole thing is much simpler than I'm making it, but you know that from inside my head things don't look simple. I don't have to tell you how I'm feeling in order for you to understand and for that I'm so grateful because I don't feel as if I can explain properly. Just help me, will you? Tell me.

Well, I said I didn't have any words today. Turns out I found some after all.  Pity that none of them were particularly positive. 

I'm sorry about that too.

Dark things. Ephesians 6:12

Where to start?  My head is spinning a bit today. It comes down to this:

'For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.'

Ephesians 6:12

In the Bible, you tell us that the devil exists.  So why, when I believe in you, in your word, do I shy away from discussion about the devil?  I sort of cringe a bit when I find myself in a conversation about the devil, as if there's something melodramatic about it, or a bit fanciful. It feels a bit far-fetched. I am embarrassed. Why? You've told me the truth in so many areas of my life. Perhaps it's the devil himself who doesn't want me to focus on him too closely.  Perhaps it suits him to have me uncomfortable with discussions that directly confront the issue of his existence or activity. It must work in his favour when I undermine myself by pulling a face when I speak of Satan. 

There's something egocentric about asserting that something that has happened to thwart me when I'm trying to do something for you must be from the devil. Or at least, that's how I feel, that's how I have felt. I've been unsure about how many of life's obstacles I can legitimately put down to infernal interference because I don't want to be one of those people who claim that if the rain comes when their umbrella is still in the car it must be the devil's work.

You know what it is? I've just had a rush of insight.  If I claim that the devil is at work in my life, I feel as if I'm claiming that what I'm doing is so good that it attracts his attention and he feels threatened enough to try to wreck it. I must be such a wonderfully good person, and I am not. The problem is that I am uncomfortable making the assertion that I am doing good things. 

Here's what I know:

I love you, Lord.

I believe that you died for my sins and rose again and that you love me and one day I will be with you.

You are at work in my life.

In these last few months you have been obviously, dramatically and undeniably at work in my life.

In these last few months an inordinate number of things have gone wrong in my life.

In these last few months you have supported and loved and encouraged me so thoroughly that the things that have gone wrong have not sunk me as they might have done.

I know that you have plans for me that we have only just begun to explore.

I love this. 

I am having the time of my life.

So there, you see, in a nutshell. I can, with confidence, not arrogance, not presumptuousness, assert that I am a threat to the devil. So it is likely that he will try to undermine me. I need to hold fast to this, because I struggle with it. I feel as if I need to protest that I am not an important player in this battle, so surely there is no need for Satan to be targeting me. There must be another explanation. 

But it may be just like that. No it is just like that. 

I'm going to say it again. Tell me if I'm right. 

'I am a threat to the devil so it is likely that he will try to undermine me.'

That time I did it with less of a squirm.

The thing is, I want to be a threat to the devil.  I don't embrace the idea of difficulty or hardship or accident or diabolical involvement in my life but I want to be so unequivocably on your team, not his, that he is narked by it.  I don't want to be a wishy washy backbench observer who the devil thinks of as neutral, pointless, no threat. In saying that I am a threat I am not boasting of my own goodness, or my own ideas, or even my own ability to fight him; I am boasting about your goodness, your ideas, your fight. I am a soldier in your army and I wear your armour. He may still be fighting but you have won the war, and there's nothing he would like me to believe more than that I am worthless in battle. 

I am not worthless. I am the child of the living God. How can I get that conviction to stick, Lord? How can I stop myself from reverting to the 'not good enough' feeling? I'm not throwing your gifts back in your face but sometimes my confidence gets eroded and the old feelings creep back in. Is that the devil's voice, then? 'You're not good enough for this.' 'Someone else could do this a whole lot better than you.' 'Everyone is wondering why you're here.' 'What could someone like you offer?' 'They're all going to see through you in a minute.' 

I know these are not true. I am less bothered by stuff like this these days; I'm learning! But sometimes the self-esteem leaks out and is replaced by anxiety and doubt. Not doubt about you, doubt about me. 

I suspect there will be more on this.  I feel that I am very young in my understanding of this whole spiritual warfare thingy and I have some books to read. No doubt I will soon be quoting bits to you and asking you what you think. 

Anyway, for now I want to thank you for wise friends who know more than me and can lend me books, for a brain to think about things and for a giving to me a Team Captain who is never going to lose. 

Please hide me under your wing when I need to hide, and stand with me when it's time to fight. 

'For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels or demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.'

Romans 8: 38 - 39

That'll do for me.

Two types of co-incidence

Lord, I'm thinking about co-incidences.  

How they seem to happen more when I pray.  Is that just a co-incidence, God?  Ha ha. 

Now, I want to run something past you.

It strikes me that there are two kinds of co-incidence. 

One.  This is the co-incidence that happens when I pray; when I read my Bible, when I talk to you, when I talk to other people about you, when I read books about you.  When you're on my mind more, when I feel as if I'm taking steps towards you, when I think that I can tell that you're smiling; when I feel your Holy Spirit in my life. That's when things happen.  Co-incidences!  Answered prayers, amazing things, good things.  It's as if more You brings about More You. 

And then there's:

Two.  This also happens when I pray, when I read my Bible, read about you, learn about you and the place that I have in your family - all those things above, only this co-incidence is when things crash down around me and I find myself struggling with bad things, new anxieties, things going wrong.  It's been happening this week.  How come?

Now, I'm wary about mentioning The Devil. I reckon people start to turn off when you mention the devil, even if you sneak him into the conversation by using a different name - I don't mean Beelzebub or Wormwood or Lucifer or something from CS Lewis' book, 'The Screwtape Letters' - people refer to him as The Enemy, The Evil One, The Deceiver; and those names always sounds sort of dramatic.  Feels like there should be spooky music in the background when you're having a conversation like that. To be honest I'm never that comfortable when I find myself in a conversation about the devil.  I don't really know why.

It's not as if I don't believe he exists; you've told me that he does and I believe you.  I can read about him in many many places in the Bible. It's clear that you know him and although he might prevail in the odd battle, you have won the war. I just need to clear up one or two things, I suppose. I don't want to be one of those Christian folks who puts every bad thing down to the work of the devil. I don't believe that every loose paving stone I trip over is down to him, or every sore throat that I get just before I want to go to the church acapella group is an attempt by the evil one to scupper my worship. 


Or is it?

On the other hand I don't want to be someone who falls into the trap of discounting him entirely. You've warned us not to. In 'The Screwtape Letters' (I know it was written for children but it's about my level) the devil gloats that one of his best plans is to make people believe that he doesn't exist; that's when he has lots of power. You say we need to fight him, to be on our guard.  So I'd best be, because Co-incidence Type 2 seems to be happening a lot at the moment.

It took a friend to point it out to me, actually.  I'd had a terrible day on Sunday with this and that going wrong, and as I walked to church I knew that I was feeling emotional.  I arrived five minutes late (nothing new there) and so I really took my seat just as people were standing up for the worship bit. Imagine my horror (if not surprise) when the tears just came and wouldn't stop even before the introduction to the first song was done.  I did one of those dramatic and, dare I say it, feminine, dashes out of church while fumbling for a handkerchief, and went for a sob in the ladies'.  I missed the whole worship section and I know it included some of my very favourite songs. Grr. Several people have been very kind and thoughtful and it's wonderful to feel so cared about.

But to get back to the point, it took someone else to say to me, 'Read Ephesians 6, because it sounds as if you need to put on the armour of God'. So I did.


Ephesians 6: 10-18

'Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.'

So there it is. St Paul wasn't backwards in coming forwards on the subject of the devil, so maybe I should be a bit more switched on. He's pretty dramatic; 'the authorities...the powers of this dark world...the spiritual forces of evil'.  Whoa. It also seems as though the 'armour' he's talking about is pretty heavyweight too. Truth, righteousness, readiness, faith, salvation, the Spirit. Are they really for me?

I'm looking at this passage and thinking that there must be many a sermon there.  There's enough material for books and books I imagine. All I want to know is, how do I go about putting that lot on, so that I'm not completely knocked over and sent flying next time it happens to me? (note slightly squeamish about mentioning the devil just then). 

Here's my take on it, and I'm more than game if you want to put me right, Lord.

1. The belt of Truth.  I know the Truth.  You are the Truth.  You are the way, the truth and the life, and when I confess my faith, I am speaking the Truth.  You died in my place so that I could be forgiven and have eternal life. Blows my mind every time I write it. I love writing it. Thankyou Lord. Why a belt? Well, lots of metaphors available, but I reckon simply put, a belt holds my trousers up and without one, if my trousers fall down I'm not going anywhere, let alone being ready to fight an enemy. Anyway, moving on. 

2.  The breastplate of Righteousness.  Bit more difficult.  I struggle to see myself as righteous in any way because I mess everything up on a regular basis.  From what I understand, however it's the same as above; you bought my righteousness for me - I didn't deserve it but because I am in you, I am righteous. And also I think it's an ongoing thing - as I try to be more like you, I learn to be righteous. So it's two fold. Must be important if this is the bit that protects my heart.

3.  The Readiness that comes from the Gospel of Peace. Hmm.  Readiness? being in tune with you? Ready to spread the word of God? Ready to follow where I'm led? I'm going to google this in a minute and see what I can find out. I know it refers to the feet, and I can understand an analogy about needing decent footwear to go anywhere but I'm not getting to grips with this bit. 

4.  The shield of Faith. Easier. I have faith.  I believe in you more every day. As you show me new things, as you challenge me to go deeper and wider and higher and look for you in different places, I find you. You've given me faith as a gift and I have planted it and I want to see it grow and grow. I need to learn how to use it as a shield, maybe... I need to hold it high and let everyone see it. I need to hold it firmly, so that I don't drop it. It will stop things from hitting me. 

5.  The helmet of Salvation. Wey hey! I am saved. Simple as that. It's a single, completed action; I am your child. When it's all done, and the dust is settling I'm going to get to come and see you face to face, and the only thing left undecided is how much use I am to you in the meantime.  The helmet protects my head. My brain. My mind. My thoughts. This is a prime area for attack. If I think I can't do it, I probably won't. If my mind is not on the job, then the job isn't getting done. And I need to protect that knowledge that I have of my salvation because the other guy is going to try and convince me that I'm mistaken.

6.  The sword of the Spirit. Now here's a discussion for another time. Is there anyone who really gets to grip with the Spirit?  I mean, Jesus, who came to earth as a man, is a concept we can easily get our heads round.  God, even, is an idea that we're familiar with from an early age. The Spirit is more difficult to get a handle on. I know how often I say that I want to be filled with the Spirit, or I ask that you send your Spirit...when I stand up for what I believe; stand up for you, or write this, or pray or worship, is it the Spirit that enables me?  The power behind the button, so to speak?  

Well.  Here's me thinking I'd have ten minutes waffling with you and then get an early night. So much for that. I'd better stop now or I'll be Snappy Mummy when the little ones pounce on me at silly o'clock tomorrow. 

Let me draw it all together.  Lord, give me all those things.  I want them all, so that not one bit of me is left unprotected. Show me where to find them, the right way to put them on, how to use them.  And help me to see when to leap into action, too.  

You've told me that the closer I walk with you, the more likely it is that stuff will happen. I'm not prepared to back away from you, my Lord, because I've come too far and it's taken me too long and I've had one too many glimpses of your glory. So you'd better show me how to be ready to defend myself.  I really don't want to spend too many more worship sessions sniffling in the toilets if that's ok with you.

Thanks.