Maybe you rose alone this morning
…isolated, unseen, unhelped, unheard, unknown, unloved…
I wake under that storm sometimes. It takes a few moments or hours to pry [pray] loose the clinging feeling that I fight an unaided, unseen battle, from which no one can save me, and in which none (including God) will come to help.
I think that sometimes the enemy of our souls dispatches a special ugly messenger assigned to waking times. As God’s saints (that’s you and me…all who have pulled on the cloak of His righteousness instead of our own) yawn their first breaths in the day, the emissary quickens his forked tongue in our ears, laying a weight of “alone” on our shoulders as we step out into what is sure to be the Lord’s day; laced with His purpose, His words, His help, His missions, His delight, His joy, His revelry, His love.
That storm-maker spins his words until our eyes cast down and we dig in the dirt for something to hide us. We shuffle out the door looking down, feeling unaided and isolated, though the throngs of heaven stand at our helm and elbow ready to help and encourage.
Oh that we would wrench our eyes up. Oh that in that moment of attack, we could breathe His name who triumphed over every one of these infernal enemies at the cross. Oh that we could roll over, grab our Bibles, and beat the air (figuratively), swatting away these dark annoyances. What if we whispered His name, pleaded for His help, remembered that His knees are already bent in intercession, and that the Spirit is already groaning on our behalf.
Before you knew your need, His word was on the wing, covering you. On its way, ready. He saw it before you drew breath to ask it.
Kierkegaard said that God always has the first thought. No matter how early you turn your thoughts to Him, He’s beaten you to the punch, and has you, yes, you in mind.
So, this day as your feet meet the floor, they step down through a layer of God’s protective presence and love. As the enemy bleats in your ear, turn it deaf, and seek out the voice that longs to whisper. Brave the attack, my brother, my sister. Bear it down, and laugh, for the victory is yours. Greater is He who is in you than he who is in this fearsome world.