Imagine you’re in a long, dark tunnel and the only sound you hear are the arrows of the enemy whizzing past your head. You search for light at the end that you have trouble distinguishing and stumble while groping for some semblance of deliverance—because surely there has got to be a ceasefire to this relentless onslaught. But what if the light isn’t at the end of the tunnel? Instead, you are the light—the only light some will ever see. If Yeshua/Jesus is in you and you are in Yeshua and clothed with the mantle of the Ruach HaKodesh/Holy Spirit, then you are not only protected, but you have the radiance to illuminate the darkness no matter how offensive the corridor appears.
I have a lot of snake-handling dreams. And no, I don’t condone real-life snake-handling—unless you enjoy that kind of hobby. My dreams are symbolic, and they almost always represent healing and/or deliverance. The other night I dreamed of a long dark tunnel full of swift-flying arrows; there was also a large menacing rattlesnake seeking to do damage and immobilize. Just before its fangs struck me, I stomped on its head, holding it in place. While it hissed and tried to bite my foot, I grabbed it at the base of its head, lifted its thrashing body and flung it back where it came. I admit, I was panting from the turmoil in wrestling this strong and venomous serpent, but the snake fearfully disappeared (as did the arrows) in a snap like a yelping coyote pup. There are other elements to this dream, including people, and I owe a lot of light-expanding insight to my sister/bff here, but the gist of the message was straight out of Luke 10:19: “I have given you power to tread serpents and scorpions underfoot, and to trample on all the power of the Enemy; and in no case shall anything do you harm.”
Did you know that even in the darkest hour and the vilest place, you have the power to shift the atmosphere by your presence if you have the Lord in you? Faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. It can calm storms.
No matter how life looks, how crazy and chaotic the days are; if despair overwhelms you, just remember that we win. And God’s divine alignments, timetables, and promises WILL COME. But we also have to take care by not getting so shaken up that we give up. Rise up, rise up, rise up! Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice! Nurture, nurture, nurture. Even if you’re battle weary, clap your hands to dispel the clouds of discouragement. Shout or whisper (whichever your style) a favorite verse, sing an uplifting song, and yeah… go ahead and do a “shake-off” dance even if someone’s watching; I mean, at this point, who cares, right? What have you got to lose other than the dregs of the enemy’s jump-scares?
“The seed of faith is planted in the inner man to care for, nurture, and grow where the enemy cannot touch it except to upset the outer man to the degree that we might be shaken and abort it prematurely.”—Heidi Hayes
Don’t let it happen; don’t give up. Trample the devil and his underlings underfoot where they belong. Recapture the sense of what’s ahead… nothing but guarantee, gain, and goodness… and a wide-open horizon of boundless possibilities.
We can settle in a place of peace, regardless of what’s going on around us. It might be our nature to desire delineations, even if we dive deep in the Spirit. We might want to see above the surface, or how far to the floor. We might yearn for a glimpse of what’s around or ahead of us. We think we need explanations. Lines and restrictions can give a sense of security… or control. But what if God is asking us to abide in the depths of his fathomless grace? To just linger in his presence, in stillness, even if it’s dark and we can’t see as far as our own hands in front of us? To truly, wholly, trust in him, his mercy--just trust. A hurricane can rip over the surface and destroy everything in its path; impacting everything as we know it; perhaps ridding the familiar or comfortable. But in trusting him, in letting go and allowing him to sweep through our circumstances, our lives, our hearts; we can all the while abide in the depth of his peace, in calm. We can remain in an immovable space, a divine place; one of intimacy and confidence in the God of Glory who speaks to the storms. Instead of the storms threatening to destroy us, we watch them as they shift and scream away at his whisper. All that’s left is what was there all along. Peace, calm, assurance. To trust at a place in the present, where neither height nor depth nor anything can separate us from his love (Romans 8:39). May you abide in his immeasurable peace.
New book alert! Dark King’s Human Bride is available for preordering at select bookstores. Click the button below to reserve your copy of my latest dark fantasy of messianic proportions.
After its official release on January 24, 2022, the novel will be available in digital and/or print formats wherever books are sold.
“Never listen to your critics. They aren’t qualified to usurp the still, small, voice that speaks in the silence between your own thoughts.”—Russ Walden
It takes courage to write truths in fiction; write what hurts. To contextualize emotions, the struggles; tapping into the raw nature and grind of real life and transposing them into an altered universe. The result might not represent a true existence verbatim, but can harbor the angst, dilemmas, struggles, and sicknesses of hope-depleted hearts in order to instill hope in the end. It can be scary sometimes to release a story that holds a little more truth than you’d care to admit. Makes one feel vulnerable. But it’s always the still, small voice, a reminder that what’s written might be intended for one person only. And that one person to get it, feel moved and encouraged by your labor of love, washes over any potential collection of critics, large or small.
Writing with boldness, listening with care…