“For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ” (II Corinthians 10:3-5).

“What are you doing?” My dad appeared dismayed, peering down at me as I stood partially hidden behind a striped button-down dress shirt.

Slowly, I stepped from my hiding place, the long, wooden weapon still in my hands. My face flushed. “I’m… I’m sorry. I saw a stranger pull in the driveway, and I was afraid. I knew you had a rifle in there.” I pointed toward Dad’s hanging shirts and sports coats. “I grabbed the gun for protection. I didn’t know you… you were home.”

The confession out, I fell into my father’s arms and released a torrent of tears.

“It’s okay, dear. I love you.” Daddy stroked the back of my head. “First, I just got home. Second, the stranger you saw was my friend. He’s also the handyman who’s going to help me build our barn.”

No longer able to stifle laughter, Daddy let it out. Then, dabbing his eyes with his hankie, “Little soldier, I’m sorry you were scared, but… you do realize that’s not a rifle. It’s an… an antique musket.” And he roared with laughter again. Finally, “Anyway, you don’t think I’d keep a loaded gun in my closet, do you?”

No. And apparently an unloaded antique musket was no real threat. Still, I’d like to imagine–at least from a distance–I appeared armed and dangerous.

Indeed, a real Annie Oakley.

Though this happened long ago–more than the number of years the children of Israel wandered in the wildness–I remember.

As a girl still in grade school, I knew nothing about guns–rifles, muskets, or otherwise. I just knew I was home alone when a stranger–one I identified as a threat–pulled in the driveway of our rural Ohio home.

Or so I thought.

Truth was, Daddy was home and there was no enemy. What I’d considered danger wasn’t. It was just a battle in my mind.

I was safe.

But there is truth to this story–applicable for the times in which we live. Truth of an enemy. Truth of our weapon.

Yes, of our weapons.

I thought about this decades-old story recently. I’m reading a book by Beth Moore called Praying God’s Word. She writes–

“The primary [weapon] we have in warfare is godliness, which is achieved only through intimacy with God…” (PGW, p. 7).

She explains, in this dark world, there is a real enemy. It’s Satan. But we have powerful weapons at our disposal. One is the Bible which, according to Ephesians 6, is our sword of the Spirit. The other is prayer.

Beth writes–

“I am utterly convinced that the two major weapons with divine power in our warfare are the Word of God and Spirit-empowered prayer. These two weapons have divine power…” (PGW, p. 5).

And why is this important?

Because, again, we live in a dark world. Look around. This reality is everywhere. On the news. On social media. In our own communities, as sweet and innocent as some may seem.

I recall some years ago something our police officer son said to me.

“Mom, when we first moved here, we thought it a quaint mountain town.” He paused, leaving to the imagination what it was he envisioned in that beat of silence. Finally, “Truth is, it’s anything but.”

And he should know.

After all, Officer Miller deals with this harsh reality nearly every day. The drug addiction. The domestic abuse. The mental and emotional illness. The cruelty around too many corners in our western North Carolina community.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling particularly down or overwhelmed with so much sadness in the world–at a loss for how to help–these facts try to rob me of my hope. Attempt to steal my joy. My peace.

I speak from experience.

I desperately need to wield my weapons–those tactical tools that will actually help me overcome, take back that which is promised–hope, peace, joy–and fight for something better. Because… we know.

Much of the battle begins in the mind.

If Satan can get us to shift our gaze from what we know is truth–that being Jesus–he gets a foothold. And boy, does the enemy love to meddle.

Our eyes off our Good Shepherd, even for a moment, Satan will attempt to lead us astray. To fool us into forgetting we wield the weapons that have already defeated him.

Truth is, with a single word, we silly, forgetful sheep can send that devious wolf fleeing, sending him straight back to the dark den from where he came.

And what is that word?

Jesus.

Oh, how our enemy hates that name–the name we brandish, that which is present in each of our weapons–in God’s Word and in our powerful prayers. But we must remember…

To wield it!

But how? What does this sort of “wielding” look like, in a practical sense?

As II Corinthians 10:3-5 reminds us, our weapons are different than those of the world. They have the power to tear down strongholds.

But what’s a stronghold?

A stronghold is a thought contrary to God’s truth, and it’s dangerous. Over time, left unchecked, such can result in actions which pull us away–step by tiny step–from the safety we’re promised in God’s presence.

Beth Moore describes it this way–

“Strongholds can’t be swept away with a spiritual broom. We can’t fuss at them and make them flee… Strongholds are broken one way only: they have to be demolished…” (PGW, p. 5).

Practically speaking, to destroy destructive, even idolatrous thoughts, we must…

Take them captive.

Yes, we must make them obedient to Christ. But again, how? What does that mean?

Simply put, because it really is quite simple though the effects are profound–any thought that’s contrary to God’s Word we must tear down with truth from the Bible. Then, we pray that truth, replacing the demolished stronghold.

For example…

When I read in the news or on social media something that stirs fear and anxiety, the result may be an overwhelming sense of hopelessness.

Unchecked, this hopelessness leads to an attitude of apathy which may, in turn, keep me from action–There’s nothing I can do about it so why even try?

But this is wrong. We’ve been give the ability to speak life into every situation. Nothing is hopeless, at least for those who’ve put their faith in Christ. Furthermore, as Christians, we’re commanded to “Go!”–that is, to put love in action.

So what do I do?

It should always begin with prayer.

I replace the stronghold–It’s hopeless. There’s nothing I can to do–with truth by wielding my weapons–God’s Word spoken in scripture-filled prayer. That is, I take that thought captive, making it obedient to Christ.

I pray:

Father, I’m feeling hopeless in this situation. I don’t know what to do, and fear is keeping me from wanting to do anything. But You’ve promised in Your Word that nothing is hopeless. We know the end of the story–that, though we face trials, You’ve overcome the world through Jesus. Because of Him–through His death and resurrection–we have the hope of eternal life. And for now, You’ve called us to “be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer” (Romans 12:12). I may not know what to do, but hope is mine in Christ, and my job is to be faithful to pray about this concerning situation. And that I can–yes, I will–do. In Jesus’s name…

Amen!

This sort of scripture-filled prayer is how we rightly wield our weapons.

But…

Even as I write this, I’m convicted. Too often I fail to destroy strongholds in my mind, then take those destructive thoughts captive, making them obedient to Christ.

More than ever, I’m convinced. It’s not just my seemingly sweet community that’s broken. It’s our world. And now, in this moment in time, we’re needed… to fight for truth. To shine the light. To heal the wounded.

Fellow Warriors…

Won’t you join me? You, too, can wield your weapons–God’s Word spoken in Spirit-filled prayers–to help change the world.

When I stepped out of hiding all those years ago, my Daddy said it best–

“It’s alright, dear. I love you.”

And that’s what our Heavenly Father says too.

But now, this is what the Lord says—
    he who created you…
    he who formed you…:
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
    I have summoned you by name; you are mine.
 When you pass through the waters,
    I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
    they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
    you will not be burned;
    the flames will not set you ablaze.
 For I am the Lord your God,
    the Holy One of Israel, your Savior…
Since you are precious and honored in my sight,
    and because I love you… (Isaiah 43:1-4a NIV).

He’s calling us to come out of hiding. To ready ourselves, armed with our swords of the Spirit, with scripture-filled prayer, that we might fight for justice and truth in a world that desperately needs Jesus.

Let’s not quiver. Be bold, growing in courage as one set free from the strongholds that have, as Beth Moore says, a “strong hold” on our minds. Remember–

That’s where the battle begins.

Then, step out ready to help others find freedom from the bondage that is prevalent in all our communities’ corners.

It begins with you…

It begins with me.

Onward!

Kind Father, thank You for Your Word and for the indescribable gift of prayer. That we can communicate with You is a miracle. Help us never take this for granted but, instead, use it as the powerful weapon it is to bring hope–yes, healing–to our world. And may it be so!

Friends, thank you to those who participated by commenting on my last blog, posted two weeks ago. Miracle Whitehorse was the winner of The Five Love Languages, but I appreciate each comment.

To better equip you in prayer, I’m offering another giveaway.

Comment here for a chance to win Beth Moore’s impactful book Praying God’s Word.

Share how you combat fear, your strategies in prayer, or perhaps a personal story.

I’ll draw a name next Wednesday, then ship PGW right to your door (U.S. residents only, please).

Pray on, fellow soldiers. Pray on!