The enemy will try to get you so discouraged that you’ll voluntarily give up. (He doesn’t have to defeat you if you defeat yourself.) He whispers lies in your ear—sometimes he even screams them in your ear. The Bible warns us, “Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.” (1 Peter 5:8)
One of his best tactics is to separate you, to actually isolate you from everyone else. He doesn’t want you to reach out for help. He doesn’t want you to talk to anyone. He certainly doesn’t want you to go to church and hear a word that builds your faith and encourages you. You might hear a song that reminds you that everything really is going to be all right. You might run into that sister who pulls you to the side, hugs you, prays for you, and speaks life to your soul. You might hear that one sermon that changes everything—when the Word itself shifts your whole situation. He definitely doesn’t want you to get to that and will desperately fight to keep you away from it.
The enemy wants you isolated because you become an easy target when you are cut off from everyone else. (And I’m not talking about those times when God sets you aside to pour into you; I’m talking about when you try to separate yourself from God and His people.) If you are not careful, you may slip into, “Woe is me.”
Life can make you outright weary. Hey, I’ve been there. I’ve had those days when I didn’t even want to get out of bed. I wanted to sit in a dark room and cry, to just throw in the towel. But God wasn’t having it! I even remember a time when He sent my pastor to my home. She came in, told me get myself together, and made me leave the house! (Praise God for her!!) I was resistant, too, at first. I wanted to feel sorry for myself. I had gone through so much that I felt like I had the right to be miserable if I wanted to. That sounds ridiculous right now, I know. Who wants to be miserable? But at the time, I believed that feeling sorry for myself was warranted because I had been wronged and I was suffering.
I didn’t realize it at that time, but God was teaching me a valuable lesson. When I was a little girl, I used to hear the older saints recite Psalm 30:5, “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” (Years later, I even wrote a song about it.) Guess what? We determine when our morning comes. God used my pastor to give me that push to get up and get motivated again, and He met me right where I was. Throughout my life, God has used me to do the same for others. (He may be doing it right now at this moment.) And, Sisters, God will use you to lift up another sister. We all need each other; we are in this thing together!
The Manna Chef 