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- Written by: Don Goulding
“The kingdom of heaven is like a person who sowed good seed in his field. But while everyone was sleeping, an enemy came and sowed weeds among the wheat and went away.” (Matthew 13:24, 25)
While Africa slept, the tip of a thorny mimosa root pushed around a cassava tuber. Its sinister goal—shared by thousands of pale tendrils—was to choke the cassava plants to death.
By morning light, I admired the communal garden beside the airstrip in Calabar, Nigeria. I never suspected the savagery hidden underfoot. Nigeria is home to one in five Africans. To exist, the people farm cassava anywhere they can. This white fleshed staple keeps them alive, but not if thorny mimosa kills it first.
Most people don’t suspect the invisible war waged against Christians. We hear about the odd demon manifestation or the detestable rites of Satanists, and these are indeed too pervasive. But the real harm from the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms is done while we sleep, that is, while we’re not paying attention.
A tendril of fear, a root hair of doubt, a vine of materialism stretches around our convictions, and closes so gradually we don’t notice. From the outside, everything looks green and harmonious, but a ruthless war is underway. Hatred and pride are weeds looking to destroy our faith. These are not random, unguided events. Living demons, foul spirits playing for the opposing team, strategize how they’ll sneak ideas into our heads that strangle our love of Christ.
As much as I hate the chore of weeding, the garden must be worked daily. Thankfully, I don’t labor alone. The Master Gardener tugs a flaw, then looks to me. I nod permission and he whacks it off. Working in harmony with him, I have a fighting chance against the weeds of my heart.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, uproot whatever the enemy has sown in me.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
But you, Lord, are a shield around me,
my glory, the One who lifts my head high. (Psalms 3:3) (NIV)
As she drew water, the Samaritan woman was lost in despair.
My children are embarrassed by me. Five husbands and now a faithless boyfriend. The clay pot on my head is worth more than me.
She didn’t notice the rabbi watching her until he spoke.
"Will you give me a drink?”
Jesus broke every barrier by speaking to a woman born outside Judaism. His words did more than ask a question. They took hold of her chin and gently lifted it. She had trashed her self-worth. He offered to fill her soul with value.
The hope-filled woman ran into her village and convinced others to listen to Jesus explain redemption. Together they were saved from worthlessness.
There is a subtle, yet critical, distinction between worldly self-esteem and godly self-esteem. The first says I am significant because I stand above others. The focus is on achievement and attractiveness. Godly self-esteem says I am important because Jesus, who is every wonderful thing in the universe, lives in me.
Satan wields a double-edged sword. With the forward cut he tells me I’m important because I’m popular, rich, or powerful. After I fail these ambitions, he delivers the backstroke, berating me as a pitiful human specimen. The distance of my fall is greater for the false height to which he lifted me.
Then Jesus catches me. “I’ll prove your worth. I’ll live inside you.”
Prayer: My beautiful Savior, I celebrate your worth in me.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father. Then they were all astonished at the mighty power of God. (Luke 9:42, 43)
“A seizure overtook my body and everything went black.” Fifteen-year-old Jemi’s bright eyes shown as she and her father, Pastor Daniels, recounted the events of her death in Chennai, India. “There was no pain, but I died in my mother’s arms. My father was away, yet he knew in his spirit he needed to pray for me.
“Two angels took me to the Lord. When I saw him, Jesus said I had to return to my grieving family, do work for him on earth, and then I would come back to him later. I started breathing again and found my mother crying.”
Jemi was born with a Hindu name that she wouldn’t speak. Her great grandfather practiced witchcraft and gave his daughter, Jemi’s grandmother, the secret name. That lady spent her life physically paralyzed. Jemi was her namesake and the generational curse reached a gnarled hand to destroy the girl’s life with deadly epilepsy.
The first thing the family did, after the angels brought Jemi back, was to break the curse by proclaiming the power of Jesus over her new name—Jemi New Grace.
Many Westerners roll their eyes at Jemi’s story. Angels, resurrection, and family curses are not empirical enough. But Jemi and her family don’t follow a tame Jesus. They follow a valiant Jesus. He is the Great Deliverer, who’s very name has power over unseen enemies.
Jemi’s life is enmeshed in the spiritual battle between light and dark. My life is blinded from her worldview by human philosophy and myopic science.
I clearly need fifteen-year-old Jemi New Grace’s larger grasp of reality.
Prayer: Mighty, powerful God, open my eyes.