Fighting On Our Knees

As we pause to reflect upon the formidable picture of the Christian warrior regaled "in the full armor of God" [Ephesians 6:10-17] everything about it denotes action! Readying himself for battle, he adjusts his war belt. His heart races under his breastplate so that it becomes palpable. He scuffs at the earth like a baseball hitter with his nail-studded boots, securing his traction. He repeatedly draws his great shield across his body in anticipation of the fiery barrages sure to come. Reflexively, he reaches up and repositions his helmet. He gingerly tests the edges of his blade. The enemy approaches. A thousand swords ring from their scabbards in dreadful symphony. The warriors stand motionless, breathing heavily. And then the Christian soldier does the most amazing thing -- he falls to his knees in deep, profound, soulful prayer! To be sure, there will be action. He will rise, and his steel will flash, but all will be done in prayer, for prayer is primary!

This is the precise picture we get from reading Ephesians 6. For after the full depiction of the Christian warrior's armament is concluded [vv. 10-17] we read: "And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the saints" [v. 18]. Those who would engage in spiritual warfare, regardless of how well they wear truth and righteousness and faith and salvation, regardless of how well they are grounded in peace, regardless of how well they wield the Word, must make prayer the first thing. The Christian soldier fights on his knees! As Edward Payson has said, "Prayer is the first thing, the second thing, the third thing necessary to minister. Pray, therefore, my dear brothers, pray, pray, pray."

The first element of this type of prayer is that it is Spirit-directed. "And pray in the Spirit ... " begins Paul. How does this prayer in the Spirit occur? The principal text to help us here is Romans 8:26, 27 where we read: "the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will." Ultimately, the Holy Spirit tells us what we ought to pray for and he will settle certain things in our hearts to pray with the conviction that they are God's will -- so that we are praying in faith. Oswald Sanders elaborates here noting "that the very fact that God lays a burden of prayer on our hearts and keeps us praying is prima facie evidence that He purposes to grant the answer."

The second component of this type of prayer is that it is continual -- "on all occasions." This was the experience of the Apostolic Church as featured in Acts 1:14, "They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and his brothers." Paul told the Thessalonians to "pray continually" [1 Thessalonians 5:17]. Is this possible? Yes and no, according to Kent Hughes. While it may not be possible to carry on a running verbal dialogue with God while we do our business, he believes prayer is not so much the articulation of words as it is the posture of the heart." John Wesley takes this thought a step further when he says, "His heart is ever lifted up to God, at all times and in all places ... his heart is ever with the Lord. Whether he lie down or rise up, God is in all his thoughts; he walks with God continually, having the loving eye of his mind still fixed upon Him, and everywhere 'seeing him that is invisible.'"

The third aspect of this type of prayer life is that it is varied -- "with all kinds of prayers and requests." If we are to pray continually, then the various situations that we will encounter will demand variety in prayer. Think of the variety appropriate to life's unfolding situations: confession, thanksgiving, intercession, adoration, meditation, humility before God, and even song. We are called to be skilled in all these types of prayer -- and constantly exercising them.

The fourth aspect of a life filled with prayer is persistence in prayer -- "With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying." The Lord delights to honor perseverance in prayer. This is not to suggest, however, that God regards prayer as a meritorious work -- when there are enough prayers, he answers. Rather, he sovereignly chooses to encourage persistence in prayer and to answer it to his everlasting glory. In one of Jesus parables, he dramatizes what he wants from all believers when he told the story of the Godless judge who was worn down by an old widow who kept coming back to him for justice. He finally relented if for no other reason than his own peace of mind [Luke 18:2-5]. The cultivation of persistence was a recurring motif in Jesus' teaching on prayer. At the end of the Sermon on the Mount he enjoined his followers to the tenacious pursuit of spiritual things: "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you" [Matthew 7:7]. The Lord's language is unusually compelling because the three verbs [ask, seek, knock] indicate an ascending intensity. The stacking of these three words is extremely forceful, and the fact that they are present imperatives gives them even more punch. The text actually reads: "Keep on asking, and it shall be given to you; keep on seeking, and you shall find; keep on knocking, and it shall be opened to you." This tenacity is exactly what Paul has in mind here in our passage on spiritual warfare as he calls us to "be alert and always keep on praying."

Do we [do I?] pray this way for the Kingdom's work? Are there individuals or ministries or groups for which we persist in prayer? There ought to be. I can say I have been effectual in prayer for Alison, a friend who was near death with widely metastatic endometrial stromal sarcoma back in the Spring of 2006, or for a few missionary friends to Cameroon and Uganda [Mike, Kay, Terrill, Amber, Chad and Tiffany] as well as Leigh in Indonesia...but I run hot and cold on this, and miss far too many opportunities to avail myself in effectual prayer for them except when one is stricken with malaria, etc. Sadly, my intercessory prayer life tends to go from crisis to crisis rather than the continual praying that Paul is exhorting us to. We are in an invisible war, and those who persist in prayer prevail. The call goes forth!

The fifth and final aspect of a life of prayer is intercessory prayer [as I just alluded to] -- "for all the saints." There are many worthy things to pray for, but believers/saints are to be granted a large part of our prayer life. Sure, we are to pray for those without Christ, but high on our list should be fellow Christians, "all the saints" -- even the great saints like Paul himself. How often are we praying for those who provide our spiritual cover? We need to make this a daily part of our prayer life.

Imagine with me for moment the aged Apostle Paul -- with gray flowing beard and a thinning gray mane falling askew around his weathered face. His sinewy body bears the marks of war. The bow of his legs shows his repeated marches across the Roman Empire. Scars cover his torso as he has five times received the thirty-nine lashes [195 stripes in all]. He is bent forward not only by the gravity of time but also from the cosmic burdens of his apostleship -- "Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?" [2 Corinthians 11:29]. Can you see him? Now imagine his well-worn armor. He has worn his war belt so long that has been sweated all the way through and is comparable to old horse's bridle, holding everything perfectly in place. The 'belt of truth,' God's truth, has girded him tight for years, so that it has permeated his life and reigns within. He is armed with the clear eyes of a clean conscience. He can face anything. His torso is sheathed with a battle-tarnished breastplate. This 'breastplate of righteousness' has preserved his vital organs intact. His holy life rendered his heart impervious to the spiritual assaults of Satan. His gnarled legs are comfortable in his ancient war boots. He has stood his ground on several continents. The boots are the 'gospel of peace,' the peace with God that comes through faith in him, and the resultant peace of God -- the sense of well-being and wholeness -- shalom. He stands in peace, and being rooted in peace he cannot be moved. Paul's great shield terrifies the eyes, for the broken shafts and the many charred holes reveal him to be the victor of many fierce battles. The 'shield of faith,' held up as he has repeatedly believed God's Word, has caught and extinguished every fiery dart of doubt and sensuality and materialism that Satan and his minions have launched against him. None has as much as touched him. On his old gray head he wears a helmet that has seen better days. Great dents mar its beauty but serve as reminders of furtive blows dealt to him by the enemy. Because the 'helmet of salvation,' the confidence of knowing that he is saved and will be saved, has allowed him to stand tall against the most vicious assaults, his great confidence in God gives him almost a regal bearing. And then there is his sword. He was equal to a hundred, nay a thousand, when his sword flashed. The 'sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God,' the ultimate offensive weapon, cut through everything -- armor, flesh, glistening bone, and running marrow -- even the souls of men.

What an awesome figure the apostle was. He had stood before Felix and Agrippa, the legates and officials in Rome [and would soon stand before Caesar himself] -- and he had not and would not give even an inch. He was the consummate warrior. If anyone could do it himself, it would have been Paul. But could he? Listen to the warrior's plea: "Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given to me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should" [6:19, 20]. "I cannot do it without your prayers!" says Paul. "I fear that I may lose courage and fail under the stress. Pray that I will have the courage to declare the gospel fearlessly. I need your prayers." Was Paul just putting them on? Was this a self-conscious attempt at humility? We know that it was not. Remember the words of Payson, "Prayer is the first thing, the second thing, the third thing ... pray, pray, pray." Paul says the same thing when he says, "always keep on praying for the all the saints" [v. 18].

As I close, I exhort you and I exhort myself ... Do I/we intercede regularly for others? Do I/we have a prayer list for our brothers and sisters in Christ, and do we use it? We are in a cosmic battle: "For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms" [v. 12]. Remember these words from John Piper's book Desiring God: "Unless I'm badly mistaken, one of the main reasons so many of God's children don't have a significant life of prayer is not so much that we don't want to, but that we don't plan to." Therefore, let us take time this very day to rethink our priorities and how prayer fits in. Make a new resolve. Try a new venture with God. Set a time. Set a place. Choose a portion of Scripture to guide you/me. Stop being tyrannized by the press of busy days. We all need a mid-course correction from time to time. Make this a day of turning to prayer -- for both the glory of God and for the fullness of our joy.

Turning Fifty: Coming Closer to Myself

Lord, you have been our dwelling place

Throughout all generations.

Before the mountains were born

Or you brought forth the earth and the world,

From everlasting to everlasting you are God.

You turn men back to dust,

Saying, “Return to dust, O sons of men.”

For a thousand years in your sight

Are like a day that has just gone by,

Or like a watch in the night.

You sweep men away in the sleep of death;

They are like the new grass of the morning –

Though in the morning it springs up new,

By evening it is dry and withered.

We are consumed by your anger

And terrified by your indignation.

You have set our iniquities before you,

Our secret sins in the light of your presence.

All our days will pass away under your wrath;

We finish our years with a moan.

The length of our days is seventy years –

Or eighty, if we have the strength;

Yet their span is but trouble and sorrow,

For they quickly pass, and we fly away.

Who knows the power of your anger?

For your wrath is as great as the fear that is due you.

Teach us to number our days aright,

That we may gain a heart of wisdom.

Relent, O Lord! How long will it be?

Have compassion on your servants.

Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love,

That we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.

Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us,

For as many years as we have seen trouble.

May your deeds be shown to your servants,

Your splendor to their children.

May the favor of the Lord our God rest upon us;

Establish the work of our hands for us –

Yes, establish the work of our hands.

The preceding Psalm [90] is a prayer attributed to Moses written some 3,500 years ago and is the oldest of the psalms, but its truths are timeless and could have easily been written less than 100 years ago. I have been reflecting on this prayer this month as I find it rich with a poignancy and a pathos that befits my “milestone” [or perhaps maybe my millstone].

The brevity of my life which vanishes like the night, the inevitability of my death regardless of how many ellipitical training sessions I perform or how carefully I watch my diet [or don’t watch my diet as the case may be], the futility of every effort to transcend my finitude, and the clarity of my failures, faults and sins that feels like a glaring exposure before a holy God – these are the blessed birthday reminders of the Jewish poet and patriarch.

The Psalmist’s somber reminders are “blessed” even though at first glance they read like a recipe for anxiety and despair. At my age, the ordinary experiences of everyday life might suggest just that. At fifty, gaining weight is easy, staying in shape is hard, losing weight is even harder. I once exercised out of vanity; I now exercise out of necessity. My biology is my certain destiny, and already my body betrays me [and has for two plus years now] – but nothing like the destiny of dust that awaits me. However skillful my future mortician, I too will revert to stardust, whither like dry grass, just as venerable old Moses did in an unmarked grave almost 3,500 years ago. My family of origin is my inherited legacy, for good and for ill. Professional accomplishments bring limited fulfillment; why did I ever imagine otherwise? Personal inadequacies unsettle me. The consequences of some life choices feel irreversible, such as tilting back 1,300 pounds of standing drywall resulting in the crushing/amputation of my left foot and ankle in 2003, moving from Hawai’i to Florida in 1995, sending my second daughter, Alli, to Venezuela in August for a two-year mission trip [What may befall her there? How can I possibly be a shield for her on a different continent? Can we really ever truly shield our children anyway?]; and my son, Andrew, why didn’t I spend more time with him doing the things he liked to do? Just how many more chances will I get to truly speak into his life? God, why doesn’t He hear your voice like his sisters do? Will he ever? Still, he hears you far better than I did at his age. Will that hearing improve over time? What can I do to adjust the tuning dial on his receiver? Sadly, a lot less than I’d like at this stage of his life. I could go on and on, but at some point the sovereignty of God is something we must simply accept at face value.

So if you live anything like a “normal life,” sorrow and heartache will visit you sooner or later, and certainly by the time you reach fifty [striking me before my tenth birthday] – whether through your parents, spouse, children, friends, boss, job, the stock market/economy, the random roll of the genetic dice, or just plain old bad luck [if a Christian can even use the word “luck”], or from what Wendell Berry once called our “irremediable ignorance.” “Life is difficult,” wrote M. Scott Peck in one of the most famous first sentences ever [The Road Less Traveled]; he too was “swept away in the sleep of death” almost five years ago from pancreatic cancer at the age of 69. So, brutal realism, modesty, and the embrace of the fleeting mystery of life all befit a man turning fifty. I resonate with the many people who quote the lines of the German poet Rainer Maria Rilke about “living the questions now.”

Some people at my age resist the analysis of the Psalmist as too gloomy and overly pessimistic, and instead throttle full speed ahead as if nothing has changed. Displaced desires, reversion to superficial pursuits, social affectations, sublimation through obsessive work, escapism through play, cutting and running, and the old stodgy standby of denial are all strategies people employ to avoid the obvious [and I’ve done all these things myself over the years], that my banal, ordinary life is speeding toward its completion, and that with what the Psalmist describes as “labor, sorrow and a moan.”

One of my favorite philosophers, Soren Kierkegaard [special thanks to Mrs. Murrel McDougal, my senior Honors English teacher, for the introduction] describes in detail his own carefully crafted avoidance mechanism. Throughout his short life [1813-1855] he battled a pronounced and chronic melancholia and used his prodigious writing to both distract and protect himself. And there is no doubt that it served as a fund for enormous artistic creativity and interior reflection, as he embraced his melancholia as form of despair. Invoking a distinctly Christian audacity, Kierkegaard made peace with it, and even believed God forgave him for his proclivity to despair. Even though one might justifiably feel increasingly old and world-weary because of the litany of woes described by the Psalmist, in relation to eternity, insists Kierkegaard, one can live “forever young.” Overwhelmed by God’s love that overcame his melancholic despair, he describes coming close to his self that he had formerly analyzed only at a distance:

Alas, ultimately I know of no truer prayer than what I pray over and over, that God will at any rate allow me – that he will not be angry at me – that he will allow me to thank him continually, thanking him because he has done, and indeed, continues to do, so indescribably much more for me than I had ever expected. Surrounded with mockery; plagued day in and day out by the pettiness of people, even of those closest to me, I know of nothing else to do in my home or in my inmost being, but to give thanks and to thank God, for I understand that what he has done for me is indescribable … He permits me to weep before him in quiet solitude, to weep away my pain again and again, blessedly consoled in the knowledge that he is concerned for me – and at the same time he gives this life of pain a significance that almost overwhelms me, he grants me success and strength and wisdom in all my accomplishments … Now life is coming closer to me, or I am coming closer to myself.

Kierkegaard and the Psalmist provoke me to take inventory of my fleeting life, to seek a heart of wisdom, and to embrace rather than resist what is at any rate inevitable. In my human imperfections and limitations, they insist I can discover divine consolations.

They further point me to confidence, joy and gratitude. In a culture of victimization, it takes audacity to celebrate gratitude for life itself with all its problems. In a society that winks at greed and encourages entitlement, contentment with one’s station in life supposes a radical experience of grace. In a world of staggering pain and inequality, there is still cause to enjoy the small things that give life its meaning.

In closing, I can take solace in the fact that I do not need to be anything other or greater than my own little faltering preface – having the confidence that at some point in eternity, God will surely bring order out of my divided and piecemeal tale and write an emphatic postscript.

Thoughts On Spiritual Warfare

As we read through Ephesians the first five chapters are filled with a deep beauty of thought as we are exposed to the bright secrets of grace: the mystery of our election, the celebration of divine power in our lives, our heavenly position, our peace, our unity, our unique giftedness, and then the call to live our lives as light and to be filled with the Spirit. These were such exalted thoughts, substance for almost dreamy reflection, and then a cold slap in the face, the ugly blood, grime and gore of war with the enemy of our souls. Nevertheless, it is still a beautiful life to be lived even though we are camped out in enemy territory.

This is a spiritual reality and to thoroughly understand this is necessary for those of us who want to live out a victorious life in today’s post-modern world. The prevailing materialistic, mechanistic thinking of our age leaves no room for the supernatural, or indeed anything without a physical cause. Sadly, many believers are so influenced by this thinking that even though they give conscious assent to their belief in Satan and spiritual warfare, their lives show no evidence of this reality. They actually live in unconscious disbelief [as Kent Hughes describes it]. For people such as these, this passage [Ephesians 6:10-17] provides a much needed antidote. And then there are those who have an unhealthy preoccupation with the Devil and attribute every problem in their lives to demons. So spiritual discernment and a sense of balance are key.

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” [v. 12]. In asserting that “our struggle is not against flesh and blood” the apostle makes three key points. First the struggle is supernatural – beyond flesh and blood. Second the struggle is personal. The word for ‘struggle’ here indicates a hand-to-hand fight [as the Spanish say, mano a mano]. The root idea here is not an exchange of artillery or arrows, but sweat against sweat, breath against breath. And lastly, the struggle is futile if fought in and by our own flesh. We are all involved in a superhuman battle in which conventional tactics will avail nothing.

The angels we struggle against “rulers,” “authorities,” “powers,” and “spiritual forces of evil” form a vast organized hierarchy. The word translaterd “powers” or “world rulers” is kosmokratoras, basically cosmocrats, which F. F. Bruce thinks refers to high-ranking fallen angels such as the angel-princes of Persia and Greece who hindered the archangelic messenger in his divine errand as recorded in the book of Daniel [10:12, 13].

The immediate implication is that Satan is terribly powerful. To be sure he does not possess anything near the power of God, but in God’s inscrutable arrangement he temporarily dominates and drives the world, which on the whole is separated from God’s grace. Though Satan can only be in one place at a time, with his myriads of malignant spirits he imitates God’s omnipresence and omnipotence – for he desires to be God more than anything. His cosmocrats are strategically positioned in the world’s culture, both secular and ecclesiastical. His lieutenants are likewise well-schooled and well-placed so as to best spread their cancer. The consensus of Scripture is that this world is the cosmos diabolicus. John tells us “We know that we are children of God, and that the whole world is under the control of the evil one” [1 John 5:19]. Paul writes that “The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God” [2 Corinthians 4:4]. In 2 Corinthians 2:2 he adds that Satan is “the ruler of the kingdom of the air, the spirit who is now at work in those who are disobedient.”

In our own culture we see some of this in the immoral and amoral banter on the TV talk shows and especially in the network and cable programming with the recent exaltation of the homosexual, bisexual and transgendered lifestyles. Our culture has become a herd of morally desolate groupies committed to unthinking, doctrinaire relativism, regularly calling good evil and evil good [see Isaiah 5:20], approving actions that even dogs under full sway of their animal natures would never do! The “Evil Empire” is worldwide, sometimes showing itself in oppression of the truth and at other times in license and debauchery, and both are typical of the cosmos diabolicus.

A parallel implication is the terrible total spiritual evil of Satan. Our verses allude to this as we are told that we struggle against “the powers of this dark world” [or “this present darkness” as the RSV has it]. We understand from Romans 1-3 that all of us are totally depraved. By this we mean that every part of our nature is tainted by sin. This does not mean that we are as bad as we could be. There is always room for more "depravement" and some humans fall deeper into their depravity than others – say serial murderers such as Ted Bundy or dictators such as Adolph Hitler or Joseph Stalin. Yet even those who have gone so low have not equaled Satan’s evil. Satan has no conscience, no compassion, no remorse, no morals. He feeds on pain and anguish and filth. This is the spirit with whom we wrestle. There is nothing in Satan which is redeemable. There is no virtue, but only a dark, cannibal void. Along with this, he is supremely cunning. Verse 11 refers to this as “the devil’s schemes” or as the Greek says, methodias – methods. And he has been honing his methods for millennia. His emissaries visited the church councils at Nicea and Chalcedon. He sat in on medieval faculty meetings. He is an accomplished philosopher, theologian, and psychologist. He has had thousands of years to study.

Sadly, one of his most deadly methods is masquerading as an agent of God, as Paul records in 2 Corinthians 11:14, 15 “And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. It is not surprising, then, if his servants masquerade as servants of righteousness. Their end will be what their actions deserve.” Today his emissaries may don Brooks Brothers suits, flaunt Madison Avenue aplomb, and travel between New York, London, Berlin, and Paris. He specializes in mixing just enough truth with falsehood to make it seem plausible, just as he did with Eve in the garden. Heresy is truth out of proportion, and twisting the truth is his specialty. Perhaps his most common method today is sensuality. How many people have sold their souls to accommodate their declining morality. Theological aberration is as often the result of moral declension as it is an intellectual process.

One of the Devil’s most effectual methods is to instill doubts about God’s goodness. This was the tool he most effectively used against Martin Luther. Roland Bainton, his great biographer, writes: “The content of his depressions was always the same, the loss of faith that God is good and that he is good to me.” Seldom does Satan ever attack openly. His strategies as ministered by his demons are nearly always unseen, shrewd, and perfectly tailored for the victim. What a terrible foe we face. He is immensely powerful, imitating God’s power and presence with his demonic hosts. He is evil beyond our comprehension and without conscience or principle. He is diabolically cunning. And he is after us!

“Our struggle is not against flesh and blood.” This struggle is too much for the 21st century, one-dimensional materialist and indeed for many who think themselves Christian. Our enemy is subtle and powerful. He hates Christ. He hates God’s children. He hates the Church.

On earth, among mortals, Satan has no equal, but in the heavenly realms he is far exceeded by the Triune God. Paul’s letter to the Colossians states dramatically that Satan, and in fact the entire invisible spiritual realm, owe their existence to Christ: “For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him.” Satan is not the counterpart of God. Because Satan is finite and God is infinite, our enemy is infinitely inferior! Satan’s power is overwhelmed by the power of God. Recall in Exodus 7 [vv. 6-12] when Aaron at God’s command threw down his staff before Pharaoh and it became a snake, demonstrating that God’s power was with Moses and Aaron. But then remember how Pharaoh’s magicians did the same and there were vipers everywhere! But then Aaron’s viper swallowed up all the rest. Those grotesque moments, as Aaron’s snake was consuming all the other serpents, said it all: God has power – Satan too has power – but God’s power is far superior! Think how Aaron felt when he reached down and picked up that fat snake and it again became his staff.

But that is not the end of it – Christ is not only more powerful by virtue of his being the spirits’ Creator. He is also more powerful because he defeated Satan at the cross, and as a result, Satan and his minions are under the feet of Christ. In fact, the apostle Paul tells us in Colossians 2:15 that our Lord Jesus Christ has led them in a victory parade: “And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” He has sealed their doom, although during the present overlapping of the new age with the old, they still exercise control over those who have not yet found freedom in Christ.

So in respect to these cosmic realities about Satan’s vast power, but Christ’s transcendent power, what must we do? Paul leaves two commands, which dominate his advice to the end of this passage. First: “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power” [v. 10]. According to Hughes, this is a passive imperative: be made strong in the Lord, find your strength in him. We cannot fight Satan ourselves. All our own doing will be in vain. Nevertheless, there is something we can do, and that is to avail ourselves of the Lord’s strength. Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” We are to acknowledge our weakness and invite his power. Next we are to “put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes” [v. 11]. But what is most called for here is a breathing out of dependence upon self and a breathing in of God’s mighty power. I can’t think of a better time to start than right now!

My next blog entry will be posted on my 50th birthday, which incredibly is a mere four days away. It is entitled, Turning Fifty: Coming Closer to Myself. Read it and weep. I know I did as I wrote it.