Ever been spiritually abused by this one?

There are times in all our lives when we’re sound one moment, skittish the next. Some of us are like that by nature or personality. Some people cannot help it. And it certainly doesn’t make them any less spiritually mature. Think of people who are ‘thinkers’ rather than ‘feelers’. Are they more spiritually mature because they’re seemingly more emotionally stable?

When someone opens their Bible up to James chapter 1, and points to the sixth, seventh and eighth verses, and they look at you like “there is it, right there, see it?” you are forgiven for being either confused, upset, angry or despondent.

A mildly angry response would actually be appropriate. James in this verse is talking about the specific issue of doubting within the specific matter of prayer. Doubting of its own is permissible, one only needs to look at the majority of the Bible to see countless occasions where biblical figures more famed for their faith than you or I battling. Doubting, paradoxically, is a sign of faith. The sad thing with this verse is people who monster it to abuse others only look at the effect and impute it as the cause. Just because we may be double-minded or unstable occasionally doesn’t mean God doesn’t want good things for us. God knows we need encouragement, not our noses rubbed in our failures.

But this is just one ‘for instance’. So many Bible verses are used as cannon fodder for those who weaponise what was meant to be used for lifting others up.

There are times in my life where I’m tossed about on the waves, “blown and tossed by the wind.” The last thing I need at these times is a stern rebuke. What I needed was someone to sit, listen, affirm and encourage. Possibly a ten-minute chat. Sometimes that’s all it took for me to right myself. Yet, for many people and in many situations, the problems of life are far more complex than that.

When we only see the end results of someone’s waywardness, and we jump to the conclusion that they’re spiritually immature or lacking in some other way or “they’ll never make it,” we miss the opportunity to provide the care that the opportunity truly demands of us. We miss the opportunity to learn what they’re really up against. Some of the most important lessons I’ve ever learned came when God wanted to correct my ignorance assumptions. These have been some of my biggest A-HA moments. The humble person sees beyond judgement and looks for the real reasons people behave as they do.

It is spiritual abuse to reel out James 1:6-8 in response to someone being undependable who is genuinely grieving, depressed, anxious, or ailing for any reason.

Now, that is not to say those of us who have times of being unreliable or undependable want things to remain as they are. Most of us want better. The point of this form of spiritual abuse is it never leads to growth. It’s never the right way to lead someone in the faith. We can do much better coming from a standpoint of understanding. Then, we may find the Holy Spirit leads us in knowing what help they find is useful.

The maddening thing about being up and down emotionally is it’s never simple to emend, whether we’re in the moment or reflecting upon it later. The spirit of control that demands that complex issues be made simple never helps and can only hinder.

Let’s get one thing straight; spiritual abuse, or any abuse for that matter, doesn’t have to happen regularly or even more than once. Interacting with fellow humans is an honour and a privilege, and how they feel about our interacting with them is paramount. When we consider we all have the capacity to abuse people, God can give us the spiritual awareness to care in such a way that we don’t.

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Loving the abuser with nothing less than the love they need

Diane Langberg, PhD, would not consider herself a pastor, but I find she preaches the best sermons—messages for today, for a time when the church is most scrutinised and perhaps most willing (this is our hope) to take a deep look within.

Here is what Langberg suggests regarding love for the abuser:

“If we love the abuser we will know that true repentance is slow and hard, and their words and promises cannot be trusted. Keep in mind that one of the most powerful weapons of deception is the use of spiritual language.”

For starters, if we truly love someone who abuses others, we will not let them have their way—abusive people never opt to do the hard work of recovery, and nearly all of them don’t have the capacity for it in any event. So, it’s never more important to ‘hold the line’ and refuse to love them less by letting them off the hook. Perhaps we’re the only ones they’ve ever encountered who will attempt to hold them accountable. We can never do this by being easily offended. But equally we must hold them to account for the abusive things they say and do—every single one of them.

If we love someone who is abusing us, we will need to understand that their promises to change rarely if ever bear any fruit. Our only chance to help them is if we love them with a love that insists they change if there’s hope remaining for ‘us’, and much of the time we have to accept that it’s realistic to end the toxic arrangement. If God resurrects the arrangement in time well that’s the Lord’s business.

Secondly, and this is a global truth any of us who have recovered from anything can attest to; recovery is slow and hard. True repentance emanates only from deep heart change. There was something that happened within a person who departs from one way of living to embrace something 180 degrees different. Even if this is rare, it does happen, and the true Christian is someone who evidences such heart change in several aspects of their lives. It needs to be said here that, for abusers, change can only be evidenced over several months and into a year or more—and they won’t try and convince you. A year or more is how long it takes to truly see the fruit of the change they have said they’ve made. Be wary of those who talk up the changes they’ve made; but be hopeful of those who let their actions speak.

Thirdly, spiritual language is impressive, and we’ve grown to be impressed by it. We need to be on our guard for flattery and anything that would appear remarkable, inspiring, noteworthy and extraordinary. The paradox is this: those who must impress we should be least impressed, and possibly most concerned, by. Those who don’t need to impress us we may find are the most trustworthy. They don’t need to be ‘seen’ to be content, whereas the person who must be acknowledged, appreciated and recognised is sometimes most coercive. Of course, all humans have human needs, but it’s never good for us or others when we must control others to attain our needs.

Finally, we never have to feel guilty for loving people in a way that leaves them room to win our respect. The respectable person is respectful of the need we have for them to prove they are worthy of our respect. Most people don’t mind having to earn other people’s respect. The person who demands to be respected, however, is on a slippery slope. But this isn’t to say that respect isn’t a need, for it is! We just can never demand it.

It’s a good thing to love an abusive person with nothing less than the love they need, which is a tough brand of love that holds them to account for their own good. They may win us over, and they will have gained our heart in the process, but they will need to prove themselves trustworthy first. If it’s the case that you’re in a relationship with an abuser, however, this kind of love will have a limited affect. Those who love you who are also acquainted with the abuser can and should love them, however, with this tough love.

It is never a good outcome for an abuser or anyone who knows them and is in a relationship of any kind with them to let the abuser off the hook and to make their yoke easy or their burden light. They need a firmer hand than that to truly be loved.

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Looking for ‘the door’ when you can’t take any more

I suspect we’ve all been there, and many times for that matter. I’ve been there countless times, probably in all reality several hundred times, and usually monthly. It’s funny, even as I typed those words, I was tempted to feel ashamed, unworthy; but, of course, none of us can predict the path our hearts take at times. And even less so if there are triggers. We all have those.

The words of one of our special-needs mothers rang true for me recently: “Today I’m broken. My heart can’t feel anymore,” she said. This is such a common experience for many kinds of people, and especially for those with children with syndromes and disorders. It could have been for any other reason also that she felt this way; I didn’t press her, instead I prayed!

As I read her words, my heart sank. I wondered what had happened. Of course, we know that there is a plethora of circumstances that can provoke such despair.

Sometimes when we hear another person’s account, we completely understand what has tipped them over the edge. Yet, at had other times we secretly wonder why they haven’t coped better. Still, when roles are reversed, we feel comprehensively misunderstood. If only the other person could step into our shoes and feel what we’re feeling, then they would know, and there would simply be the nodding of their head in full agreement at the attack furled against us.

Sometimes there are just no words to describe what we are feeling. With social media we sometimes have the outlet to let out a cry for help. And yet this is no help for those who feel that would leave them too vulnerable. There are many reasons why people feel like they cannot reach out, and particularly, sad as this is, men. But many women don’t have the girlfriends that would simply sit with them, listen without judgement, and be present.

Romans 8 talks about the groans that only the Holy Spirit understands. It’s why some of our prayers are gobbledygook, and yet God still understands even if we can’t. We need to be brave enough to speak gibberish. Call it the gift of tongues!

What we commonly experience when we can’t take any more is the strong desire to bargain for better. It is such a human thing to do, and whether we are Christian or not is irrelevant. Christians don’t normally deal with pain any better than those who don’t know Christ, but they do have the aid of God’s Word that can help encourage them in their despair.

I think I’m a normal person in this way: when I experience pain, I inevitably look for a doorway to relief. I am very sorely tempted to bargain my way there, and yet a long time ago now God showed me the key. The key makes so much sense. It isn’t pretty. It doesn’t sound majestic. It doesn’t even sound miraculous. And yet something miraculous happens when we practice this simple thing.

When I experience pain, like you do I am sure, I want the pain banished. I want it over, because pain speaks of the kind of experience of life that I’m sure feels worse than death. Of course, that cannot be. Death would be far worse, if not for ourselves, certainly for others who care about us. When I experience pain, I am looking for the doorway out. And almost anything will do. Until I realise that there are many doors I could walk through that would take me, spiritually speaking, to death.

Somehow the Spirit of God intercedes in these moments, and a doorway is provided, but it isn’t a doorway we otherwise see of our own volition, nor is it a doorway we even see is attractive. It’s not natural to go through this doorway, but it’s the best thing we can do.

Rather than settling on a bargain, venturing through a doorway that will almost certainly lead to regret, we can choose a different doorway; this doorway is the one we walk through when are we grieve our grief. See, I told you it was simple. I told you it wasn’t attractive. And it isn’t enticing. But it works.

When we can’t take any more, we need to walk through the door. We need to grieve our grief. We need to lament, grizzle and groan. We need to shed tears. And to exhaust ourselves to the end of sleep. For nothing works better in grief than the purity of rest.

Having exhausted our own resources, as the psalmist often did, we reach the end of ourselves and find that God begins there. Yes, there—the power of God! At the end is death at the cross. And what comes after the cross?

Resurrection. God takes us, limp and ready to submit, into divine care, and somehow hope is restored, because we no longer contrive it. But we must first grieve our grief. We cannot avoid it. Grieving our grief is the key.

Now, of course, we can hold God to ransom for ‘resurrection’ too, and what’s that about if not a bargaining? Resurrection always comes, but not always on the third day.

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Prayer of empathy for the heartbroken

No matter what moment of history the hands of time reveal, there are always human beings in the desperate state of heartbreak. It happens when relationships end, when loss occurs, when there’s betrayal, and when there’s a lack of capacity to bear one’s reality. There’s a ‘when’ for every single one of us at various points in our lives.

So, this is a perennial prayer.

Covenant God,

Promise giver and promise keeper, it is so hard to remember Your goodness when we suffer heartbreak. We know that You never change, but we just cannot work out how what we experience is for our good, and that very thought leaves us estranged to the trust we need at all times, which is good for us. You understand this challenge that we face day-in, day-out throughout those days of pain where we just cannot get away from ourselves, our thoughts that dog us, and those irrepressible feelings that just will not dim.

You know, our Lord, what heartbreak feels like, within Your nature and through the direct experience of Your Son. Help us to know that You know. Help us to draw closer and feel Your presence with us when we experience the heartache that tears all hope away.

Draw us toward You, God of life, that we would not only know You more and experience Your love deeper in our being during our heartbreak, but that You would also woo us to comfort those who also are heartbroken. Give us a special portion of discernment for the one who is beside themselves in a felt experience of life that overwhelms them in anxious sorrow; an anguish that redefines the term ‘pain’.

As we have been comforted, as we have found You in our lament, help us comfort the one in pain today by a comfort that comes from You, Lord. More than that, my God, make us one with Your Holy Spirit that we would so faithfully rely on You when we provide Your care that the person being cared for feels they’ve had an encounter with You. Show us how to get out of Your way, Lord.

In our heartbreak, gracious God, give us the faith that believes that “this, too, shall pass.” Help us genuinely believe that good times will come again, and yet help us be patient in the present bewildering circumstance. Grace us with a sense of Your presence that shows us something we never knew before, and not just the pain of it, but something additional, perhaps of hope beyond the pain and the depths of Your love in spite of our struggle and striving for comfort.

Make it, Lord, that our past experiences of bearing and wearing pain would somehow be a help to the person who is in torment in their present. Our desire is to provide Your comfort, God.

In Jesus’ name we pray,

AMEN.

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The purpose of loss in the plan of life

There are so many synonyms for suffering. And loss is one of them. Think of that for one moment. Any time we are suffering we’re suffering loss. We have lost something tangible or intangible. And usually within one loss is a whole raft of losses. There are layers of loss within the calamity of one loss event.

When we lost that Nathanael, it wasn’t just him that we lost. We lost our hope for a child at that time. We suffered the loss of stress in that season; the toll it took on my wife’s body and the impact of how we were treated by some people. We suffered dramatic change in several relationships. We suffered betrayal. We lost our opportunity to properly grieve our son, because of senseless circumstances. And we continue to suffer loss whenever we see a five-year-old these days, even if our grief has settled for the major part in the gravitas of acceptance.

We have also learned that there’s an upside to life after loss; you receive what you otherwise would never have possessed if you’d not suffered loss.

Here’s the thing: we grew.
As individuals, as a couple,
as servants of the Lord.

Although it involved myriad tumult, although it cast us regularly into the rocks, although we were pressed in without precedent, that season of life proved to us the goodness of God, in spite what God had allowed. The Lord did not want us to be crushed, but a genuinely random genetic condition had enveloped our unborn, yet God proved good by growing our little Nathanael ever so normally in the womb, albeit with compromised lung development. Our faith shone because of the people that were praying for us. Favour came our way even if our lives were spurned with misfortune. Amid the horror of child loss, we faced the opposite reality—by faith our God was there.

Neither my wife nor I were strangers to loss. I lost my first marriage, and if losing Nathanael was trade-work, losing my first marriage was a solid apprenticeship in preparation. Never have I learned more about God—before or since—than at that time. My wife had suffered several losses before she met me, including a variation of ambiguous loss, a traumatic accident that took two years to adjust to, and a relationship that concluded unexpectedly.

You who read this have suffered your own losses. For what purpose?

The purpose of loss in the plan of life
is to teach us what nothing else can.

Loss takes us to the silent and dark ocean bed of truth. It takes us there and it keeps us there, until we learn a vital life lesson. When I lost my first marriage, not one part of my life wasn’t turned completely upside down. There was nothing I could do about it. I simply had to adjust… or perish! Why on earth would I give up on life if I had the equal but opposite choice to be resurrected?

While we live, God desperately wants to give us all the opportunity to face a place of truth we cannot escape from. Not because God’s cruel—but because our Lord is generous and wishes for us to experience this kind of victory against the odds, to learn empathy and compassion, to discover a breadth of life we never saw before, and to taste the depths that are possible in life, in order that we would also know the heights commensurate with those depths.

In sitting in my lonely bedsitter, weeping buckets some nights, missing my children, poring through my Bible, I had space to pray like I never had before. I could not escape God. His Presence was indelible because all the distractions were stripped away, and I desperately needed comfort. I sought the solace of fellowship, and God provided spiritual care for me through wiser, stronger humans. And later, when we lost Nathanael, I cannot tell you the amount of times I’ve heaved healing tears in singing to him. Such sorrow is profoundly healing. It is a beautiful and painful process every time, which just goes to show sackcloth-and-ashes is intrinsically redemptive.

The purpose of loss in the plan of life is obvious to those who’ve been trained by it. Trust it when you’re called there. It won’t make the journey one iota easier, but at least you can trust the direction you’re headed. Keep the faith. There’s no other way.

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The paradoxes of narcissism and humility

Insight is the key to the journey of life, but insight also has a shadow—something that looks like insight but is not insight at all.

When I talk about insight, I mean one’s ability to see truth in one’s own life. Enter the paradox, or one of them at least. The one who prides him or herself on majestic levels of insight, ‘special’ insight, like insight as a God-given-gift, I have found is commonly most deluded. Yet the one who struggles for insight—and most importantly knows it—like they want more insight because the little they have is but a taste of what’s available—is the one embedded most in truth.

Narcissism and humility are opposite ends of a continuum of truth—narcissism at the end of delusion and humility grounded at the other end in truth.

Another thing about these two: the one with humility is given to wondering if they could be narcissistic—they transact with any evidence of pride in themselves and are very well able to transact with the Holy Spirit’s rebuke, even if it’s distinctly uncomfortable—and it always is; not that God makes it ugly, our own pride does. The narcissistic one, on the other hand, has absolutely no interest in transacting with their pride—they cannot and will not see it. In their thoughts there is NO pride. They’re ‘the humblest of all persons’! Heaven help anyone who is the spiritual director of one such person. They cannot be counselled on their pride, and they cannot stomach the idea that their heart covets idols like all our hearts do. Remember this one feels they are special—that they have transcended this kind of ‘sin’. 

The person given to humility knows how prevalent the idols of their heart are, they see the need to rely fully on God, and their focus is piqued on any sign they’re acting entitled, on signs they might exploit others, and signs they lack empathy. Each of these failures—entitlement, exploitation and empathy—they consider heinous. They repent of these with haste; it’s what makes them humble. They have a genuine interest in being humble—their past deeds of humility they do not rest on.

The person who can bear the thought that they’re occasionally narcissistic (we all are, not that that makes us narcissists!) recognises their capacity to lose insight. They can see that when there is a loss of insight there is a seriously negative dipolar effect—more spiritual vulnerability because of less spiritual insight means more spiritual danger to others.

The genuinely humble person would always prefer to bear suffering than to provoke it in another person. The direct opposite is true for the narcissist—they’re incapable of suffering for another person, especially in secret. They would only do that if they were assured to be covered in glory. And yet the cleverest narcissist does their ‘selfless’ acts in a veiled secrecy—it looks the most altruistic of actions, but it’s a con. The humble person seeks no reward, and the humblest people actually shun rewards unless to do that would hurt people.

The humble person works hard yet the narcissist looks to make a glorious living. The former has success, like the biblical ant in Proverbs 6. The narcissist is the sluggard, also from Proverbs 6. The humble person is quick to listen, slow to speak, slow to get angry (James 1:19), but the narcissist is easily enraged, and watch out when they’re so enraged as to ‘calm’ their abuse in a cruel display of logic.

~

The person who can be called a narcissist, who can genuinely explore if they are or not, probably isn’t. But the person who cannot believe they’ve been called narcissistic probably is.

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The cost of a narcissist in an abused person’s life

So many of our articles in the advocacy space revolve around the narcissist, yet much of the time we may lose sight of the actual cost borne on the abused person’s life. 

We call the abused person a survivor for a reason. They survive the presence of abuse, just as much as they survive onwards having escaped the abuse. But just as much in surviving abuse are the matters of the soul’s dying in the interim, and beyond as the survivor grapples with the plethora of twists and turns on their healing journey. And we must also never forget that MANY do not survive!

Let us not mistake this fact: some never heal. Others heal greatly, though there may well still be a lasting stain. Others seem to heal completely. And the unfortunate thing is those who recover least completely often judge themselves as not being enough, and worse, not doing enough, to heal. And this is wrong!

The process of healing is so individualistic and unique, because we are all different and have faced different situations and different tyrants and had different stressors and lived in different areas and were subject to different cultures and had different support systems and thought differently and all have different secondary abuse issues (for one such instance, friends not being friends) as well as a myriad of other factors, we all heal differently. (This last paragraph, which is one sentence, is structured as one sentence intentionally. I am trying to depict the vastness of this topic area.)

It’s a fact that abuse costs the survivor so very much that it could be in many cases incalculable, indeed in most cases, and possibly at some level in every single case.

The perpetrator of abuse wields their power in evil ways. And the shockwaves come to rest in the trauma of the victim. As evil power is spoken forth through word, gesture, action, and aggression forming into violence, it must inevitably come to a place where it lands. It washes up on the shores of the beach and it comes to rest. It blows in on the wind of a perpetrator’s being inconvenienced, and it leaves its devastating mark of mortal offence. It arrives in a letter box or at a post office box, perhaps thousands of miles away from its origin. It is sent as a glare and is received as a snare. It is despatched in disdain and is received in pain.

Just as not one word of God comes back void, so too does every word of evil have its toxic effect. The place where abuse comes to find its final resting place is trauma.

Trauma is costly. There is no way of overstating this. And yet there is every chance we can understate it. The ripple effect of trauma is catastrophic. It’s made its way into so many areas of our lives and it’s like a miasma out of a pit—it runs everywhere like water, but it is a fluid that is heavily acidic and caustic at the same time. It burns like hell.

The cost of the narcissist in any of our lives is too much. If we have any interest in loving others, of being the hands and feet of Jesus, and of being empathisers in our world, we ought to have a deep interest in protecting ourselves from deep relationships with malevolent people. We ought not to tolerate them. We can be kind in instituting our boundaries, with unapologetic assertiveness, which again we do not need to apologise for, even if they manipulate us by accusing us of bullying them. “Who started it, buddy? I’m choosing to finish it. Good day.”

The cost of a narcissist is too heavy a cost to bear. None of us can afford to be in a relationship with someone so destructive, but I also understand, and are realistic enough to know that, it isn’t that simple a lot of the time.

Read these words and feel my empathy for your situation. If you are dealing with what I think you are dealing with, you need the prayers of the angels in heaven and of all godly humanity, and by God’s decree you have them all.

Nothing that is done to you is unseen.

Nothing that you suffer is ignored nor is it for nothing.

But the best thing you can do in lessening the overall impact of the abuse that you have suffered, is to remove yourself from that situation, if you can as fast as you can. The cost otherwise is far too great and cannot even be counted.

~~~

One final ‘word’: partnering with a narcissist can often be a slow burn. Remember, you are an essential part of their diet. They need you. You are their supply. Without you giving them what they want—a reason to be angry, to feel superior, a financial lifeline, access to grandiosity, etc, etc, etc—they have no use for you. But, here’s the thing; they will structure the relationship such that you must provide these things.

Get out of the relationship. It’s your only chance. The slow burn will steal the joy you have, kill your soul, and destroy every hope you have of living a reasonable life.

Get this: the slow burn operates through the vacillation of flattery and abuse. If their occasional approval of you makes their abuse okay, it’s not just them that’s deluded. They have got you under their spell.

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Psalm 139 – the Believer’s Prayer

O God, You have searched me by name, and there is no doubt that You know me.

I know this and I therefore I believe this.

Lord, You know everything I ever do, including every thought I ever think, and nothing can be hidden from You, even though I and all creation partake in secret things. Help me be honest before You, Lord, and also to not be put to shame. This dualistic reality—to be honest, and to not be ashamed—is only possible through You, Lord. To know I sin and to know I’m not condemned, yet how you call me higher to goodness.

I know this and I therefore I believe this.

Lord, You make it possible for me to relate with You by the immortal bond of life under Your covering, whether I choose to deny You or not. If I deny You, I still cannot stop relating with You. This is a soothing truth.

I know this and I therefore I believe this.

You know before I utter a lie exactly the untruth I’ll say. Nothing is hidden from Your knowledge or sight. You are behind me, in front of me, on top of me, underneath me, indeed, even in me within the depths of my visceral being.

I know this and I therefore I believe this.

How can I know You, Lord? Your ways are so much higher and infinitely majestic. I cannot know what You know, yet You desire that I would know You, and You make Yourself available to me; nothing of You is withheld from me, and yet I can only know so much.

I know this and I therefore I believe this.

There is nowhere I can go, and You wouldn’t know. You know my days, my presence, my thoughts, my ways. You know me when I’m near to You and when I’m far from You. Within every place and every state, You are ready to hold me and guide me. All I have to say is, “Yes, please, Lord.”

I know this and I therefore I believe this.

Lord,You exist in the fullness of light in pitch darkness, and if I hide in that darkness You see me plain as day! And You even created me in darkness, without any human knowledge; in the depth of my mother’s womb You made me as sacredly as any creature. As each cell multiplied and became myriads of myriads, tissue upon tissue, You knit each part of the fabric of me together to Your holy satisfaction and for Your kingdom purpose; all in sacred safety. Even before my frame was clothed, even before I took a breath, You ordained all my days down to the foundation of moments, each with its divine purpose. The preciousness of Your thoughts about me are infinite and how foolish would I be to attempt to count them? Your grace is amazing, and Your love is dazing. I can’t imagine how good You actually are.

I know this and I therefore I believe this.

And that You would ask me what I think of the wicked! I hate them with a holy hatred, Lord, that implores Your Spirit to hasten them to repent before You. Call them to the truth, Lord, but if they ignore You, Lord, I will speak Your justice at the right time. Help me discern it, Lord. And of that measure to do only that which would make Your name known for the wonderful name it is.

I know this and I therefore I believe this.

I believe in You to the extent of this, Lord. Bring me to the knowledge of my ways. Bring me to account for each and every thought, affection, will and desire—good, bad and indifferent. Give me this knowledge of self in the glory of Your truth. Make me never shy away from what is real but make me to shun lies that come from within me and that are shed abroad through word, gesture and action. Know me in the anxieties of my insecurity and make me to shun the hiding I’m tempted to engage in.

I know this and I therefore I believe this.
Always. For. Ever. More. AMEN.

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Be under no false apprehension, the enemy hates you

Oh God, this can only be a prayer!

You remind me that there is an enemy of all humankind and of all creation and that enemy has set its sights on stealing from you, killing all possibility of life, and ultimately destroying us. Let us not be under any false apprehension.

But help the one under relentless attack right now to know that you are mightier than anything the enemy can throw at them!

Lord, I won’t dignify the enemy with a status as a being, whether there is being or not, for I’m hateful of this enemy for what it does to us, within our relationships, and ultimately its offence to you. But I also know that you mightily beyond any such offence.

Teach this truth to the one under relentless attack right now. Inculcate confidence in them to deflect the incoming poisonous darts.

Lord, you have shown me just how much the enemy despises me and everything I stand for. You have revealed to me how relentless the pursuit of the enemy is toward those who love you. You have displayed through living experience how the enemy twists circumstances and minds and contrives all kinds of lies to diminish our sense of worth, which can never truly be doubted in you. You have arrayed within me an understanding of just how much a scourge the enemy is, and how much it cannot rest until we are crushed. Yet, you are the one who uses crushing for our spiritual benefit whenever we turn to you.

Lord, you know this is personal, and that the enemy always makes it personal. You also know that I know that you are the only sure and safe avenger. I trust you, Lord. 

Sovereign God, who created the earth and the heavens, and knew what would happen, you are the only one who can deal with this. I’m so thankful that you have dealt with it—1,990 years ago! I stand on that victory. I claim it as my own, even if my life is ripped apart and there is nothing of it that remains.

I trust you, in the mighty name of Jesus!

AMEN.

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Being wary of the perils of relationships early on

This is not just about romantic relationships, but let’s hang the shingle there. It’s equally relevant in all relationships, including in the workplace, in churches, in sporting clubs—wherever there is the will to exert and resist control.

Let’s start here, for this is a common illustration of the most perilous of starts in terms of relationships. Be wary of anyone you ‘meet’ online. There’s nothing wrong with a little (or a lot of) scepticism. Anyone who allows you to withhold your trust is potentially the real deal, but just as much that can be a ‘tactic’; and your trust, being honest, is something many find hard to withhold. See how impossible it is to tell if you’re dealing with a safe person or not? For even those we know face-to-face, red flags may only be noticed a year down the track. By that stage they have won their way into your heart and they have worked their way into your life. How costly is the wrong person or a toxic relationship in your life? Far too costly if you ask me.

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We invest so much of ourselves in our relationship. So the other person may say the same thing, whether it’s legitimate or not. Our hearts are sown into the very relationships that destroy us when we feel betrayed; especially when we begin to feel controlled. Now, there are some contractual relationships that do feature control—employment contracts, for instance. But it’s not the same in the relationship with our life partner, nor is it for relationships where we must relate as colleagues. Even in employment arrangements, it’s best with employers and employees that there’s a thick layer of passionate bipartisanship.

Let’s speak about control for a moment. Nobody, traditionally, has appreciated the feeling of being controlled by another person. It’s even more an issue in these days of entitlement.

The relationships we have to be most wary of are those where either overt or covert control is exerted. When this happens, resistance is normal. But so is a rise in the toxicity of the relationship. In relationships where submission is the only way one party can keep the peace, there is a desperate need of truth. 

But if truth is the input in unsafe relationships where the other person will not relinquish control or their desire to control the other, toxicity will rise, and the relationship is approaching a breaking point.

The person speaking truth may feel indelible pressure to restore the balance and bring equilibrium, and therefore hope of a genuinely loving relationship. But if their partner is a my-way-or-the-highway kind of person, the relationship will face fracture.

Early on there are red flags. But the trouble is when would we like to see them? See them early and our awareness piques and it causes us no end of stress, because we know things must change and that feeling never leaves. See them too late and we feel stupid for not seeing them earlier. Seeing red flags is both necessary and tragic.

Signs of a good relationship early on can be extremely hard to discern. Things may start out well, and they may change. They may be behaving in a problematic way, but if we’re not savvy in our awareness we won’t notice until we’re too invested. It might be that they see something in us that they hadn’t seen beforehand and their passionate interest wanes—this always feels like a such a great travesty of betrayal.

By the stage we’re fully invested in a relationship, the other person has won their way into our heart and they have worked their way into our life. Somehow we must keep a foot outside the camp, be open to the honest thoughts and hunches of trusted others, save some doubt amid our infatuation, and understand that those we’re best entwined with are those who will allow us to protect ourselves.

Photo by Joseph Chan on Unsplash