I get it – not everyone believes in spiritual warfare. And those of us who do likely get our understanding of it wrong much of the time.
But then there are moments of clarity.
Something had been weighting heavily on my heart and soul for several hours. Not a specific something – just a weight that burdened me. Just before bedtime, I read Romans 1. Verse 21 shouted at me, followed by a deep sorry through the verses that followed. Then the sorrow and burden combined into a glimpse of the struggle between good and evil, right and wrong, faith and rejection, love and hate. I say “glimpse” because even through I felt overwhelmed by it all, I knew I was aware of only a minuscule amount of fighting and struggle going on.
Those who believe in spiritual warfare often equate it to moments in which things seem to be going exceptionally well or horribly wrong. but it’s not self-determined. It’s not as clear-cut as we want it to be. As I stood in the darkness of my room, I could point to nothing specific in my life or others’ – although there was plenty I could tick-mark in columns of good and bad as I or others experienced them. This was beyond me and beyond others. And it was consuming. Big enough I knew I might not sleep. Big enough I knew there was little I could do. Big enough I knew I could and would choose and trust God.
You might not believe me. It’s okay. It’s bigger than either of us.