A Battle Won!

Most of us would agree that life is unpredictable: there is no way we can be certain of what lies ahead from one day to the next. Sometimes we win, as I’ve experienced recently with an award for my current novel. Sometimes the winding and troubled road of life seems to allow truth to fall on deaf ears, and it is beyond our control to help those who feel backed into a corner. The following is a story, penned for those struggling with such moments… when life appears as a winding and troubled road. There is no promise that pain will be nonexistent, but there is a promise of hope.

The invisible enemy invades her sleep once again and awakens her from the solitude that accompanies early morning darkness. She can hear her pulse hammering as her ear presses hard against her pillow, and in an act of frustration—and perhaps failure to drown out the threatening voice—she throws her pillow to the floor. Why wont it leave me alone! She almost screams the words aloud, then draws deeper into the covers in an effort to recapture the unconscious state that has deserted her. She can feel herself slipping, struggling with the fears mounting in her head, and she dreads the coming day.

She is distracted by a noise alien to the surroundings of her bedroom. She lies in the dark, with no awareness of time, listening, grateful for the distraction from the fears there are gnawing at her soul. Is it a mouse? She holds her breath and listens, straining to hear. Surely not, she convinces herself. But what could it be? Silence. Then another unfamiliar, yet somehow familiar sound. Of course! The rain has come in the night as predicted and water-laden branches are brushing against her bedroom window, shedding intermittent rain drops onto the window ledge. Once identified, the dripping sound brings a moment of hope that the early spring storm is over. But despite the promise of hope, she is unable to ignore the subtle voice of the enemy, its sinister reminder that there will be more storms that will disturb her rest.

The enemy often has its way with her, sometimes sneaking up at the most unlikely moment, like in a spring rain. Sometimes it invades her dreams. Other times through an email, or phone call, or a letter. She’s not sure what opened the door this time, but it really doesn’t matter. It’s too late. Fear is staring her in the face.

She forces herself to stare into the darkness, to think, to analyse, to do anything to keep the threat away. But her efforts fail. Thoughts that cannot be exposed to the human ear race around in her head, and she knows she’s in trouble. She remembers something she heard recently: “We all go through valley and mountain top experiences: The valley is the source of our message. The mountain top is the platform for our message.” She rehearses the words over in her mind, trying to grasp some value from them, but concludes that all she wants to do is run from the suffocating air in her valley to the fresh air of the mountain top. She doesn’t want anymore messages! She doesn’t want a platform! She just wants to be free from the enemy that haunts her whenever it chooses.

A song plays in her head, Breathe on me. Breathe on me. Holy Ghost power, breathe on me. Yesterday’s gone. Today I’m in need. Holy Ghost power, breathe on me. And she whispers His name: Jesus! She finds herself humming the tune in the seclusion of her mind, reluctantly at first, unsure, and then slowly she begins to understand: she’s winning the battle! She shivers involuntarily as the war rages within. Surprisingly, she experiences a new strength and the Source of her strength speaks to her: Be still. It is not your war. I will never leave you.

She stretches and sits up just enough to take on the challenge of reading the clock—she is useless without her glasses. She squeezes her eyes, pinching them gently and determines that it’s six-forty-eight. Not bad, she considers with a weak smile, not being a morning person, and she settles back softly, not wanting to disturb her husband. Once again her blankets become a refuge from the coolness of her bedroom, and she lies there, contemplating. She knows there will be more battles, but she must never forget God’s promise: He will never leave her nor forsake her, and she realizes how instrumental this is in her victory.

And now it is time. She gently pulls back her man-made cacoon and slips her feet into her warm slippers. The enemy has retreated, she has won the battle, and she now stands face-to-face with another day. The enemy will be back, she knows that, but each battle she wins makes her stronger for she knows the Source of her strength, and she walks slowly to her platform on the mountain top. She has a message.

“Be still, and know that I am God…I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
Psalm 46:10/Joshua 1:5

For my friends!