Sometimes the dragon you thought died—the one you thought you slayed with God’s word and your heaving, desperate prayers and every other right thing you knew to do at the time? Sometimes that dragon comes back from the abyss as if it had never died and been buried. One day, you turn and there you are, facing the Beast, fire-hot breath bating you . . .
And you thought I was gone! Ha! I’m back. I’m going to take you this time. I’m going to steal away that one you love this time. You’ll never be free. Ever!
It’s flaming tongue that scarred your spirit way back when has come to finish you off. That Beast mocks you for thinking you could kill it with words from the Book—those words you believed and prayed. That Beast laughs out loud telling you he got you good with that one, back then, because that one is the one you can’t talk about to anyone. He knows you oh, so well. He knows where to wound you most. And most often, it’s with the ones you love most. Some stories aren’t yours to tell. So you live with them and hope others live with them because, though God can forget, we can’t. Not yet. So then what? Are we forever bound?
I found myself in a hard place of memory this morning. I let my mind go back to the time because of something that triggered. I shuddered. And then, I decided. I stood up from my chair, bracing myself. And I said to myself . . .
ENOUGH wondering! ENOUGH worrying! The Beast is too big. You cannot kill it. But there is One who gives you power over it.
A scene from a movie and words from a book came back to me. Suddenly, I had morphed myself into Gandolf from J.R.R. Tolkein’s Fellowship of the Ring in the scene where Balrog, the demon of the ancient world, is pursuing Gandolf and his friends on a bridge strung over a fiery gulf. Gandolf turns, raises his staff and speaks strong and commanding . . .
You cannot pass . . . I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor. You cannot pass. The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun. Go back to the Shadow! You cannot pass.
I quick strapped on my Ephesians Six Armor—my belt of truth, my breastplate of righteousness, my shield of faith, my helmet of salvation. And then I raised my own staff, my sword of the Spirit, the word of God, and spoke my own Gandolf- strong words—words of my Jesus . . .
Get behind me Satan!
Tolkein wrote what is our right, in Christ. We can speak strong truth to demons who dare to terrorize and threaten God’s chosen. We can speak a holy trinity of “cannot”, like Tolkein. We can speak gospel truth to demons in a novel way. So I did . . .
You cannot pass . . . I am a servant of the Most High God, a wielder of His Holy Word, the sword by which you must cease and desist. I resist you, in the name of Jesus of Nazareth, the resurrected Christ. You cannot pass. I am His and He is mine. You must flee. No power of Hell can rise and take me or any who have placed their faith in Christ alone, our cornerstone. Go back to the Shadow—the dark abyss from where you came! You cannot pass.
And then . . .
In an instant . . .
And I went on with my day, another battle won by the One who emboldens and strengthens me, who fits my feet, making them ready to walk with the gospel of peace.
Praise you, Jesus!
I am able to do all things through Christ who strengthens me.