Just Look...

Just Look...

Thursday, February 21, 2013

Working like the devil... (yeah, that one)

I am so tired. Like, bone and soul weary. The kind of tired when you realize this earth can't provide the sort of rest you crave, because it's a SOUL rest. The kind of tired you get when you try to do it on your own and fight the devil with your human hands and heart. And he won't just take a break. Because he knows that, while the spirit is willing, the flesh is truly so weak.

See, if you scroll back, it's pretty obvious that January was awfully good to me. And I don't know if January came first to boost me up for the February that was to come or if February has unfolded the way it has because I needed to be brought down a notch or two. If that was the situation, somebody can put it in the "completed" column, because it worked.

I think two things happened. I think that when we get high on life (and people), we are easy prey. And when we start to put our confidence in life (and people), we are reminded that our hope has to be built only on Him. Last night during my Beth Moore study, one giant point leapt off the page and slapped me: "God's gifts to us are the very things that cause us to forget the Giver." Yes. And therein lies my problem, I am afraid. 

Christians are the biggest fans ever of the devil. We love to hate him, love to credit him with all kinds of things. Regular life challenges? Must be the devil. Human failure? It's the devil. Temptation? Devil's out to get you. I tend to stay away from devil-talk. (Yes, all kinds.) I think the devil sometimes gets more credit and more billing than God, and that bothers me. But sometimes... some months, apparently... It IS the devil. It has to be. Because there is no way that Murphy's law or coincidence or bad things come in threes or karma or anything else can be the answer. I have reached a point this month where, if it didn't hurt so much, it would be laughable. 

{Disclaimer: This hurt of which I speak is purely emotional. And I feel a little silly even talking about these things when there are people facing serious issues, from cancer to suicide to abandonment to losses of jobs to heartbreak of children gone astray. But at the same time, just because my circumstances could certainly always be worse and don't compare to those of others, my issues are still very real to me. And have a serious impact on my emotions. And my mind is an extremely powerful thing. Because for some people, the devil doesn't need a life-threatening illness to bring us down. He can do it with anxiety and depression and jealousy and insecurity. Oh yes. ESPECIALLY insecurity.}

He has attacked my mind and heart in so many ways. I used the words "wounded" and "restless" the other day on fb to describe my heart. It honestly has seemed that he has taken a different approach EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. this month. I will realign my priorities or readjust my attitude or refocus my heart EVERY.NIGHT. The next day, those things will be better, only for the attack to come from another direction. It's a little shocking, to tell the truth. I don't feel like I am often a giant "devil target" (which probably should tell me something about my Christian walk, and it's not something nice). But this month... man. 

I tweeted earlier today that we as Christians really need the persistence of the devil, because his sticktoitiveness is impressive. Think about that for a second. How long do we keep at something, whether it be Bible study or prayer life or mission work or evangelism... do we keep changing our strategy every time it doesn't work and hit it hard again the next day? or do we just go, "Well, you know, this probably isn't meant for me to do. I give up." I guarantee you, if I had HALF the dedication for the work of the Lord that the devil has had for me this month, I'd be changing some things for the Kingdom. Guaranteed.

I wish I was wrapping this up with a perfect conclusion that contained the answer. For you, for me... for all of us. But I am afraid that this soul weariness is here to stay until this season of testing, or beating, or pricking, or whatever the heck it is, ends. I'll keep readjusting myself every night and I fear he will keep picking a different angle every day. But you know what? It will pass. I know that it will because it has before. And when it does, maybe I'll take something away from it. Maybe I'll purposefully persevere like the devil has with me. 

Maybe I'll have learned to work like the devil for the Lord...

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