Dusky Wisdom

I have been quite "under the weather" in recent days. I was lying in bed the other night after a strong coughing fit when it suddenly dawned on me I was in the middle of spiritual warfare. The devil doesn't want me to feel strong in any aspect of life and it's not unlike him to take advantage of those times when I feel especially weak and vulnerable. 

He doesn't want me to possess a grateful heart. He doesn't want me to give thanks for the good health I am so privileged to enjoy most days; he doesn't want me to be thankful for my comfortable bed and soft pillow. He would have me focus on the life events I am missing while my head pounds and my nose is clogged.

He doesn't want me to live out a servant life. He wants for me to be self-focused in a negative sense; He desires that I am alert enough to know what I am missing, but not alert enough to care. His goal is to keep me frustrated and sullen, robbing me of joys I might gain from rest, stillness, meditation, and supplication. He wants for me to be agitated and increasingly doubtful.

He definitely doesn't want me to humble myself under the mighty hand of God so that I might be lifted up in due time. He would not have me cast all my cares upon Christ and believe Christ cares for  me. He desires to keep me from submitting to God's will for my life. He wants for me to keep believing suffering is a bad thing. He would not have me be self-controlled despite my misery; he would not have me looking to humility as a means of dispensing grace or deliverance. Rather than seeking peace, praying for patience, and hoping for mercy, he would have me be disturbed, disgruntled, and distracted from the purposes of God. He doesn't look for me to demonstrate active dependence upon God anytime in my walk, he actively preys upon my weaknesses, desiring that I would grumble, complain, and moan about that which I am being kept from. 

He isn't looking for me to honor God in the midst of struggle; he doesn't want for me for me to see the grace and wisdom extended to me from the hand of the Almighty. 
Momentary insight from Someone quite beyond myself gives me what I need to sing in spite of the fact that my voice isn't strong and won't carry outside of my immediate circumstances. Beloved words from my childhood come to me in comfort, freedom, and strength: 

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow;
praise Him all creatures here below. 
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts,
praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost."

The song is perfect even when the singer is hoarse; the shadow flees even though the battles continue.