Armed and Dangerous

I wander through the mall, my heart breaking as I remember my son’s eyes—like windows barely cracked open, hiding the widespread destruction wrought by the enemy of his soul. How can I go shopping while he carries such pain? I have to let him go, but I cannot. I love him.

This week I have battled to find peace-- fear trying to devour me. But fear will never win this war. I am a daughter of The Most High God, indwelt by the Holy Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead. And though I am merely a child in the arms of her Father, I am armed and dangerous. I am not like the unarmed crew of a cargo ship, hiding below deck from attacking pirates. I will fight on my knees until my son is set free.

The lie is that I am powerless. The truth is that I have been given weapons, and “The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.” 2 Corinthians 10:4

I may feel afraid at times, but I will draw my sword and run straight toward the enemy because I have the name of Jesus, the blood of Jesus, the Word of God, the power of the Holy Spirit, and massive angels running with me.

All too often I catch myself feeling like I can’t rest, can’t relax the fight, as if my son’s life depended on me. How foolish! I am called to the front lines, but I am carried there by the LORD. And when I need to rest, the One who holds me securely in His arms continues to fight for me. Romans 8:26 says “…the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.”