Spiritual attack

Running on Empty

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.
1 Peter 5:8

Distracted

We had barely settled into our rental house for a week on beautiful Hilton Head Island last September when we started to wonder if Hurricane Ian would cause us to cut our much-needed vacation short. I’d checked the weather forecast before I left home but didn’t connect the predicted rainfall at the end of the week to the storm churning in the Gulf of Mexico.

Although Ian’s track continued to evolve, the possible scenarios included another landfall along the South Carolina coast, still packing hurricane-force winds and copious rainfall, after it moved across Florida. We agreed the risk wasn’t worth staying and decided to return home on Thursday, two days early.

I felt we’d made the right decision, but once we did, I became restless and unsettled, unable to concentrate on any one thing for long and disappointed that our family time would end so soon. About mid-day on Wednesday, I checked the gas in my car and was relieved to see I had enough to drive at least two hundred miles before refueling.

Any relief I felt was eclipsed a few hours later when I decided to get a head start on packing the car. The back hatch wouldn’t open. When the key fob didn’t work, I tried the release on the dash – nothing, not even a beep. Then, with a sinking feeling, I realized I’d left the accessories on when I checked the gas.

The battery was dead.

A Call for Help

My AAA membership has come in handy over the years – flat tires, keys locked in the car, dead batteries. I submitted a service request and waited, then waited some more. It was night, the storm was approaching, and we were staying in a gated community at the southern tip of the island. No one was responding to my SOS.

As the minutes and then hours ticked by, I berated myself for being so incompetent. The demeaning accusations picked up steam. “You’re old and stupid! You can’t even hold two thoughts together. You could barely keep up on the bike ride. No one wants to be around you. It’s only going to get worse!” And for good measure, “You know that book you’re trying to write? You’re not going to finish it. No one wants to read it anyway!”[1]

On and on, the taunting thoughts continued. I was powerless against the pummeling.

A New Day

Midnight approached. I canceled the service request and crawled into bed, where I tossed and turned, wondering if I’d get off the island the next day.

I rose early, weary and worried, but someone responded within minutes when I placed the service request again. A cheerful AAA rep showed up about an hour later. When I told him I keep my AAA membership to protect myself from my absent-mindedness, he replied that he sometimes locks his keys in the car. His reassurances continued, “Enough people do things like that, leaving their lights on and running out of gas, that I can make a living helping them, so don’t feel bad!” His kind assurances put a bandaid on my wounded soul.

He tested the battery and found it registered a pitiful 5% power, enough to jump, but he advised me to run the car for at least half an hour before turning it off. I let Bonnie[2] run for an hour for good measure, even though it meant using up half of the gas I’d been so excited about the day before.

Bonnie started right up when we were ready to leave later that morning, but none of her accessories worked. Her heart was pumping, but her brain had shut down. It took almost 75 miles for the audio and navigation systems to recover, but one by one, the components returned.

A Red Flag

The depth of my despair at my humanity was a huge warning sign. I used to lock my keys in my old CR-V once or twice a year, yet I’d laugh off my inattentiveness when I called AAA to report my latest foible, “Yep, it’s me again. Same address as before, too!”[3]  

My inability to combat what I refer to as “old stuff” flashed a warning. Not only did I not have the strength to fight the lies with truth, but I also started to withdraw from my bewildered family – old stuff plus an old defense mechanism. 

Thankfully, I didn’t withdraw from God. As I cried out to Him, I acknowledged the tough losses and monumental changes of the past two years had depleted me. I didn’t want to add to others’ burdens by complaining or asking for help. Through it all, I kept going, determined to be strong for everyone who was depending on me.

I realized the thing that finally pushed me over the edge was going through Mom and Dad’s things and selling their house. I hadn’t experienced recurring, guilt-infused dreams like those I had years ago when I gave away my late husband’s clothes and apologized profusely to him when he reappeared in my sleep. Even so, there are times I’ll think about a specific item or envision everything set up for the estate sale, and I feel sad, guilty, and conflicted. Did I do the right thing and make the right decisions? Should I have kept XYZ instead of giving it away?

Weak and Vulnerable

In my early 30s, I began counseling to work on deep-seated misbeliefs I held regarding myself. It was hard, often painful work, but I persevered. My counselor lauded my efforts and progress, yet she cautioned me to remain vigilant lest I slip back into old thinking when I’m tired or stressed.

Lions are patient and skilled hunters, habitually pursuing weak or solitary prey. It’s fitting that Satan, the enemy of our souls, is portrayed as a roaring lion prowling about, seeking someone to devour. He’s also the father of lies, constantly twisting the truth to ensnare and debilitate us (John 8:44).

Some of you may think my description of the self-talk I subjected myself to is hyperbole, “Surely you didn’t believe those things, did you?” Others will know precisely what I mean, having experienced similar battles in trying to overcome lies embodied in messages planted in your soul long ago.

Take heart! We don’t fight alone.

Refilling the Bucket

Despite the pain and discomfort of those few days, I’m thankful the Lord used something as mundane as a dead battery to show me how drained and depleted I’d become. Like Bonnie, my heart was pumping, but I didn’t have enough energy to do much more than trudge through each day.

Fortunately, I didn’t stay muddled in despair for long. I reached out to my longtime counselor and scheduled an appointment. Likewise, I told several trusted friends how I felt and asked them to pray for me. Unlike the initial call to AAA, the responses were immediate and affirming.

The Spirit within us reminds us that we’re beloved children, members of God’s family (Romans 8:16). What a blessing that we can turn to our brothers and sisters for help, to walk alongside us, and speak truth to us until we’re strong enough to tell ourselves again, to hear and believe the testimony of the indwelling Spirit.

Epilog

I drafted this shortly after the events occurred last year but felt too vulnerable to publish it. When I reread it after returning from this year’s beach vacation, I knew I needed to polish and post it in case it might resonate with one of you. If you find yourself weak and weary like I was, dear reader, don’t fear asking for help. Jesus came that we might have abundant life and the Truth will set us free. I pray you will find rest and restoration in Him.

[1] I dedicated a couple of hours each day we were away to working on the manuscript, but made negligible progress.

[2] We’re among those who name vehicles since we tend to keep them a long time and they become part of many family commutes and adventures.

[3] I usually locked the keys in my car at my daughter Mary’s house, leaving them on the seat as I juggled my lunch and supplies on days I stayed with my grandchildren.

Always a Mother

/ Patsy Kuipers / 2 Comments

img_1628Those who know me well know I cry easily – tears of joy or sorrow, tears when beholding exceptional beauty or kindness, tears of frustration and disappointment. But sometimes, even I am surprised by what provokes the tears. This week it was a picture my daughter Mary posted – of her feet. Yep, you read that correctly. You see, her feet were clad in colorful running shoes, posed in a position unattainable since she fractured her ankle while participating in a half-marathon last November. Until now.

Cross country was Mary’s sport-of-choice in high school and she rededicated herself to distance running several years ago. This isn’t the first time a foot or ankle injury has sidelined her. Consequently, she was smart about rehabbing her ankle, not doing too much too soon. Being awarded a spot to run in this year’s Chicago Marathon, one of the most coveted invitations in the running world, provided further motivation to recover well.

Another Setback

A local municipality sponsors a series of 5k races each year, one race per month fromIMG_3857 May to October. After several years of participation, the Kennesaw Grand Prix Series is now a family tradition. I take my place on the sidewalk to cheer my runners[1] on from the final curve, down the straight-away, and across the finish line. I relish those Saturday mornings.

Mary ran the May race, her first since the fracture, continued training strategically and participated in the 50th-anniversary edition of the Peachtree Road Race, the world’s largest 10k, on July 4th. The July 5k took place the following week. I cheered myself almost-hoarse as I watched 5-year-old granddaughter, Lyla, complete the 1-mile race. Moments later, my exuberance over her accomplishment gave way to disappointment brought about by Mary’s last-minute decision not to run. Pain in her right hip prevented her from trotting more than a few steps without wincing. And it hasn’t felt right since.

My heart hurts for my beloved daughter. Mary should be well into her training regimen for the Chicago Marathon, racking up 10-15 miles at a time, yet even 1-mile outings are proving difficult. But that’s not all. She’s endured some emotional injuries as well. Add those to her physical limitations and you’ve got the makings of a spiritual battle. One she has to wage without the benefit of her usual heart-thumping, mind-clearing time with the Lord. Solitary, stress-reducing time she’s come to count on to sustain her as a dedicated wife and mother of three, partially-homeschooled little ones, plus the demands of her not-so-part-time paid employment.

Mama Bear Lives

“Once a mother, always a mother.”

“When you hurt, I hurt.”

Lines I’ve heard my mom utter countless times throughout my life. With every passing year, I become more convinced of the veracity of her statements, no matter how old our children are. In fact, at age 87 and weighing in at about the same number, Mom is still my staunchest supporter and most fervent prayer warrior.

When my daughters were little, I wanted to protect them from hurts and disappointments, to keep them safe. That hasn’t changed now that they’re all grown up. The stakes are often higher, the hurts deeper in adulthood. I continue to pray for their safety and well-being.

A Higher Purpose

If I had my way, I wouldn’t let any harm come to my children or grandchildren, my friends or family members, EVER. But I don’t have my way. And though it may sound like I’m contradicting myself, I’m thankful I don’t. Because I have no doubt I’ve come to know God more intimately through the hard times than I ever would had I gone through life without pain or problems. My faith is stronger because of adversity, from being stretched and tested, just like our physical muscles grow strong from being used and bearing increasingly-heavy loads (James 1:2-4).

Why would I want any less for my loved ones? But I’m not wise enough to comprehend which trials will produce endurance or solidify their relationship with their Savior or conform them more to His image. When I contemplate Mary’s situation, I’m tempted to ask, “Why this, Lord? Why take running away from her? Why now when she received an invitation to run in Chicago?” I must trust God to have a good plan for her, remembering that nothing is ever lost or wasted as God weaves our stories into His grand, over-arching story of redemption (Jeremiah 29:11). I cling to the promise that He works all things together for good for those who love Him, confident Mary belongs to Him (Romans 8:28).

Just as the fractured ankle wasn’t Mary’s first run-inhibiting injury, the spiritual battle isn’t a first either. She’s suffered losses, challenges and disappointments aplenty in her 30-some years. And just as she knew how to rehab her ankle, Mary has a time-proven plan to strengthen her spirit – prayer, reading God’s word, seeking godly counsel (Romans 12:12; Psalm 119:105; Proverbs 11:14).

IMG_7889I watch and pray, embracing a friend’s assurance offered up when Mary was only a few months old: “God loves her even more than you do.”

Hold onto your faith, dear Mary. And remember, Mama Bear is cheering you on.

Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted;  but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;  they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint (Isaiah 40:28-31).

[1] “My runners” include daughters, Mary and Jessie, granddaughters, Lyla and Emma, and assorted friends, depending on the race.

I love to tell the story – epilogue

/ Patsy Kuipers / Leave a comment

I have a confession: I struggled to bring last week’s post to a satisfying end. I added words, moved sentences, and deleted phrases for several hours without making any meaningful progress. This, even though I’d worked diligently on the post across several previous days and had a clear mental outline of what I wanted to say. As bedtime loomed before me, I finally conceded and published the result of my efforts. Nonetheless, doubts lodged in my subconscious and accompanied my restless sleep. They continued to invade my thoughts the next day and the next, making me wonder if I should have published the piece at all.

I now realize I needed the experiences of the intervening week to be able to write the rest of the story and a more comprehensive conclusion.

A Look Back

Some 30 years ago, the Lord ordained a series of events in my life that forced me to deal with long-buried hurts I alluded to in “I love to tell the story”. After years of trying to keep the box of painful memories securely closed, I could no longer keep the lid on. The kind Physician came to heal the sick (Mark 2:16-18). Unwilling for us to remain stuck in a quagmire sin, guilt and wrong-thinking, He opens the wounds, gently cleans out the infection, and applies the balm of truth. My time had come.

In most cases, transformation is a long, often arduous, process. In fact, when I entered counseling, my therapist made it clear that it takes, on average, 5 years for new ways of thinking and responding to replace the old. That seemed like an eternity for determined, goal-oriented me. But she was right and eventually, bit by bit, a new normal settled in. (The grieving process is similar, but that’s a story for another time.)

As my sessions wrapped up months later, my counselor added a warning: “Although you’ve been very intentional about working on your issues and have made significant progress, you’ll always be vulnerable to the old beliefs, especially when stress and exhaustion deplete your emotional and physical reserves.”

The events of the past week left me in just such a state.

The Enemy

A line from a song by one of the early contemporary Christian groups plays in my head from time to time: “Satan is a liar and he wants us to believe we are paupers when he knows we are children of the King.” (Maybe one of you reading this can remind me who sang it!)

I hold fast to the admonition of the pastor who also counseled me during those early months of healing: “Rebuke the lies, no matter how many times you have to tell yourself, ‘That’s a lie!’”

And rebuke I did, over and over again, until I could recognize and embrace the truth more often than not. There are still times when what I’ve come to call my “old stuff” pops up and I recite, “That’s a lie!”

Even so, Satan doesn’t give up easily. He knows he can’t ultimately defeat us, but he delights in keeping us off-balance and making us ineffective (1 Peter 5:8). Since writing my last post, I’ve been distracted by many things, as the evil one stacked the kindling, stick by stick, preparing a target for his flaming arrows. His aim, perfected over millennia, hit the mark and soon I was surrounded by flames of self-doubt, choking on the smoke of his incendiary lies.

Nonetheless, the intensity of the attack opened my eyes to the source of the week’s trials, piled one on top of another, until I had no strength to fight. But He who is in me is infinitely stronger than he who is in the world (1 John 4:4). I called on Him whose ear is ever-attentive to the cries of His children (Psalm 34:15). When the flames subsided and the smoke dissipated, I could see clearly that I was safe in the grasp of the One who’ll never let me go, just as I had been all along (John 10:28-29).

The Ultimate Victory

Our past informs our present. God is the Author of our stories. He redeems our brokenness and works even the hardest, most hurtful things together for our good and His glory albeit in ways we may not comprehend until we get to heaven.

I don’t know where you are on your journey, my friend. But whether you’re just learning to rebuke the lies or have been fighting to hold onto truth for years, victory is certain. Jesus will return to deal the final death blow to the ancient serpent and to make all things new (Revelation 12:7-10; Revelation 20:9-10; Revelation 21:1-7). We’ll know as we are known and, with unveiled faces, reflect the glory of the Most Glorious One (1 Corinthians 13:12; 2 Corinthians 3:18). No more lies. No more tears. No more battles.

IMG_1469Until then, may we avail ourselves daily of the comfort and protection God has provided, confident that we have nothing to fear because the Lord goes before us (Ephesians 6:10-18; Deuteronomy 1:30). His steadfast love never ceases. His mercies are new every morning (Lamentations 3:22-23). And His grace is sufficient to meet every need (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish 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, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints (Ephesians 6:10-18).