But the tears this time were valid, because they confirmed a truth I know, but had forgotten, because of that whisper that does not leave me alone. EVER. The tears were born out of the hard reality that the nest of anxiety I brought to the theater was not the problem. The fear lodged deep inside of me leaving me paralyzed was not actually the issue. The tears washed me of the lies about who I am and what I’m about and led me away from the anxiety and the fear and back to its very source, back to the rulers of the present darkness and the one behind the evil schemes, back to the one I was facing in battle: the devil.
Yes. I said it. The devil. And in the very first chapter, too. I’m bold like that. Because we hate to talk about him, don’t we? Well, let’s get over that. Because this book is about battles, and a battle always has an enemy, and ours is the devil. Do not be fooled into thinking the enemy is your annoying coworker, or your opinionated mother-in-law, or those extra fifteen pounds you can’t seem to lose, or your difficult child, or your disappointing bank account, or that perfect friend’s always perfect status on Facebook, or your disengaged spouse. “For we are not contending against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the world rulers of this present darkness, against the spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Eph 6:12). Evil is real and so is the devil, and he, the father of lies, is the one Jesus said comes to “steal and kill and destroy” (Jn 10:10). He is the enemy that we are up against. And the sooner we accept that, the better prepared we are to fight, and not just fight — but win. Because that’s the goal here, right? To be victorious.
I think we all know we are in an everyday battle. I am not revealing some earth-shattering, breaking news. But I am not convinced we fully comprehend how powerful this battle is, and the ruin it can leave us in. And I am certain that too many of us are marching into war completely unprepared because we tend to be so self-focused that we fail to remember everyone else is in a battle, too. Everyone we love, everyone we know, everyone we disagree with on Twitter, everyone we will never meet this side of heaven. And I can’t help but wonder if maybe we would throw fewer stones, and instead dole out more grace, if we could remember this truth.
Perhaps if we prayed for each other instead of rolling our eyes, or slamming on our horn, or quickly reacting and hitting send, or making an unkind comment under our breath because the woman at the cash register takes forty minutes to scan one freaking bag of instant rice, and you have fifty-six more items to scan and need to be somewhere in ten minutes. Perhaps we would be that people of peace we claim we want to be if we remembered everyone else was in a battle. We would certainly be a more compassionate and patient people if we were to see our brothers and sisters this way: as warriors on the same team, in the same fight, just trying to stay alive. Sure, scanning a bag of instant rice should not take longer than it does to cook it. But even the rice-scanning-challenged are facing a battle, and not just alone, but with us. With me. With you. With that annoying person on Twitter. Don’t you see? We are called to stand side by side. Shoulder to shoulder. Shield to shield. We are more powerful when we do this. We stand a better chance of … well … standing if we stand together. The arrows do not discriminate; they fly at all of us. Do you really believe you are strong enough to withstand them?
I believe that you are. I believe that all women have wonder woman strength and beauty and courage and wisdom within. We may not carry a physical shield and sword (and thank God for that, because my shoulder already hurts from the giant Jessica Simpson purse I carry around). But we can put on the armor of God. Every single day, when we wake up, before we reach for our phone, or take out the dog, or pour that first cup of coffee, or sit at our computer, even go to the bathroom, we should put on the armor of God.
Therefore, take the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having fastened the belt of truth around your waist, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the equipment of the gospel of peace; besides all these, taking the shield of faith, with which you can quench all the flaming darts of the Evil One. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. (Eph 6: 13–17)
The enemy would love for us to quit fighting and to stay stuck in our circumstances. That is where he had me that beautiful summer day. Stuck. Locked in my anxiety. Focused on my fear. Believing the lie that I was in this alone and too weak to prevail. And maybe that is you, too. Or was you. Or will be you. Maybe your desire to persevere is so buried beneath the lies you somehow, sometime started to believe, that the very thought of standing up and dressing for battle feels like a battle in its own right. But I am here to say that you can stand. No matter how weary, no matter how burdened, no matter how afraid, no matter how big and impossible that mountain before you appears. You can do this.
How do I know? Well, because I, sweet friend, have failed at so much. I have reached for the wrong weapons this world has handed me, and I have allowed the flaming arrows to pierce me more times than I care to admit. And because I was too distracted by the whisper of this world and its empty promises, I failed to hear the voice of truth, and I followed the lie alone into battle way too many times.
And it did not go well.
But that’s okay. Because my journey, your journey … it is far from over. And God’s grace and mercy? They are fresh and new each and every morning. We can do this. We really can. Trust me. Actually, that is an awful idea. Don’t trust me. But let’s work on trusting him. Because he is our weapon. His word. His truth. He is our peace. He is our Savior and our Defender, and the One in control. So winning really isn’t so much about our defeating the enemy as it is about surrendering to God who has already defeated and won. It’s about standing with Mary at the foot of the cross, freeing our hands by dropping our mess at his feet, and choosing to pick up the armor of Christ instead, trusting that he will set it all right, believing that he will lead us safely through the battle, drawing our strength from him alone.
What do you say you get up and get dressed, and meet me on the front line?
Ladies, we have a battle to win.
Battle Plan
Maybe the battle you are in is crystal-clear. Or maybe this is the first time you ever considered there is a battle. Maybe you are confused because you thought this book was about coffee and lingerie. Whatever the case, stick with me, and before suiting up, how about we simply spend a little quiet time with the Lord asking him, “What attack am I unaware of? What battle am I losing? How can I fight stronger?”
Weapon of Choice
Throughout this book, I will suggest weapons appropriate for the fight. As we have just begun to march forward together, let’s take today to get out our Bible (or buy a Bible, or wipe the dust off the Bible, or finally throw out that dried carnation wrist corsage from your 1988 prom that has been pressed between wax paper in your Bible) and open to the book of Ephesians, chapter 6, verses 10–17. Pray with God’s Word, making note of your new wardrobe, which we will be drawing from in each chapter of this book. (Don’t worry, it comes with shoes.)
Chapter 2
The Self-Image Battle
“Let not yours be the outward adorning with braiding of hair, decoration of gold, and wearing of robes, but let it be the hidden person of the heart with the
