“Dear friends, do not be surprised
at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you,
as though something strange were
happening to you.
But rejoice inasmuch as you
participate in the sufferings of Christ,
so that you may be overjoyed when
his glory is revealed”
(1 Peter 4: 12-13)
Every Christian circle has a few
taboo topics. Here we are on the first
day of a new year, and I’ve decided to take one of them on. Hmmm, I may be asking for a dangerous
year. But it’s time to live bold. This topic is critical, and when Christians ignore
it, they lose what could be one of the most significant opportunities of their
lives – because they don’t know how address it.
It’s a pattern that comes forth when spiritual development is on the
brink: obstacle, prayer, victory. If we don’t know the pattern, we may miss the
victory. What do some call this
pattern? “Spiritual warfare.”
If I am to address such a topic,
why would I choose to do so, of all days, on New Year’s Day? Shouldn’t this be a day of celebrating what
is new? Why talk about something that
sounds so evil? Even demonic? First, it will become clear that I see this
pattern as neither evil nor demonic, but purely natural, as natural as labor
pains, and, like labor pains to new birth, surprisingly appropriate for
discussion as we begin a new year.
I came into the Christian Family
at the age of 15, through a church that loved me into the healing I
needed. A year later, I joined my first
mission trip to build houses for the poor in Mexico, which touched a passion in
me and began a decade of many more such mission trips. There was an understanding at this church that
“spiritual warfare” often accompanies mission trips. Invariably, they’d warn us, the van may break
down on the way (and do just fine on the way back, by the way), or the luggage
won’t make it, or team members will get sick, or some other unexpected and
obscure hitch will present itself that delays the mission or threatens it
altogether.
My church group never expressed
that such obstacles derived from some sinister entity, but explained the
pattern as one permitted by God to strengthen our faith. Sure enough, the obstacles came. Thankfully, because our group was prepared,
we knew what to do: circle up and pray.
We didn’t let the obstacles discourage us, defeat us, or hold us
back. Instead, they emboldened us and brought
us to prayer, bold prayer. Then we
watched the Spirit move in remarkable ways.
I learned the pattern: obstacle,
prayer, victory.
Meanwhile, I and my biological
family traveled extensively for study and pleasure, I also noticed that such
obstacles were less frequent and less intense on travels for other
purposes. Such hitches did come for
those too, but less often and less intense.
And, please, before casting off these observations as unique to my
experience, ask a handful of seasoned missionaries if obstacles are more likely
on travels for missions than they are for other purposes, and the knowing ones
will smile, nod, and say that obstacles, especially on the way, to mission trips defy the statistics. Seasoned missionaries know the pattern: obstacle, prayer, victory.
The pattern taught me that it held
for moments beyond mission trips. When a
spiritual development was on its way, so were the obstacles. And I understood the proper response:
prayer. Bold prayer. To meet with triumph, I learned from this church
that it takes bold prayer that calls upon a Great God to do Mighty works
against any obstacle in the way of what the Holy Spirit is doing.
Thank goodness it was this church
that led me into Christ. Thank goodness
this church had prepared me for a spiritual battle many years later that was
misunderstood by everyone around me and that otherwise could have led to the
very breakdown of my marriage. Thank
goodness this church had taught me about spiritual warfare and about bold
prayer. My gratitude can no longer remain
silent. Let me share my own battle.
During a 3 ½ month period of time,
occasionally hinted at on this site, I lived through what I now affectionately
call my “summer in the twilight zone.” I
wasn’t calling it that then. The
nightmares were terrifying, and my toddler was waking with them at the same
time as I was. I’d wake in horror,
sweating, heavy breathing, wide eyed and shaken, and seconds later, my toddler
in the next room over would let out a blood-curdling scream, waking from her
own nightmare. The sicknesses, the lost
passports the day before they were needed, the for-a-separate-post trials
facing our marriage, the subsequent wedding rings both my husband and I lost, the
story I (Karina) shared here, the car accident, which was separate from but later
in the week as the story just linked, and other bizarre trials hit heavy over a
matter of six weeks, during which I was also awed by extraordinary spiritual
glory. (See again the link just
noted.) As I’ve expressed before, my
“summer in the twilight zone” carried a remarkable mix of glory and terror, and
it truly was the time of my own Awakening.
It wasn’t until I faced these
battles that I discovered how ignorant most Christians are of these forces that
come at peak spiritual moments in our lives. To everyone around me, all of the bizarre
circumstances were chalked up to an odd mix of coincidence. Be they my Christian friends or my spiritual
leaders, were the available during this time, they all found me to need
psychological help and gave no credence to my cries for bold prayer against the
forces terrorizing me.
I say “were they available during
this time” because some friends and leaders were out of the country or
otherwise inaccessible during this time, but once my twilight zone had passed,
the Spirit blessed me with quite a few who understood. One, after hearing a litany of craziness,
stopped me at “car accident,” cast her index finger out, and exclaimed, “That’s spiritual warfare!” I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank
you. Finally, someone understood and
gave it a label it deserved.
I had been so exhausted trying to
find anybody who could understand,
both for the emotional support I longed for and for the prayer team I
desperately needed. My friends could see
that my marriage was in danger, so on their own, they prayed for that and
probably for my psychological health, but they weren’t willing to pray with me.
They wanted me to stay put at home at a safe distance from them, while
they reported they were praying for me on their own.
So I truly had to learn what I
heard Christ whisper and often repeat, “I am with you, My daughter. Come to Me.
I am with you.” So I came to Him and
I prayed, and I prayed boldly. I saw the
pattern: obstacle, prayer, victory. I
met the obstacles, I prayed, I kept meeting obstacles, I prayed more boldly, I still
kept meeting obstacles, I prayed even more boldly, and I found victory. I still
kept meeting obstacles. This is an
important point. The obstacles persist
even when prayers are uplifted, and even if we consider them bold, but victory
sometimes comes only after we send up more prayers that are more bold than we
could ever imagine to be necessary.
Obstacle, prayer, victory. I had learned the
pattern, and I implemented it when it became necessary. Tragically, not all Christians understand
this pattern. They see these obstacles
at very pivotal moments in their lives, at moments when they see all the signs
that the Spirit is about to do a great work in them and through them, and they
think the obstacles are a cruel coincidence.
And they moan, groan, and whine over the obstacles. And then the obstacles defeat them, and they
cry, and they cry hard because they had “thought” they were on the brink of
something great, but the obstacle held them back.
I have sat and listened in grief
to such tragic stories of other Christians.
To me, all the signs were clear: the Lord was about to do something great in them and through them. “So did you pray?” I’d ask. “Of course,” they’d reply, insulted. “No,” I’d say again, “Did you PRAY?” Then they’d look at me more insulted and
shake their head, not at my question, but at me. I got my answer. They hadn’t prayed.
Obstacle, prayer, victory. It’s a pattern noted
often throughout the gospels and epistles and in a few Christian circles. In these circles, it is a pattern that often
comes under a label that seems to repel other Christian circles, “spiritual
warfare.” I can see why the label
doesn’t work for many. It conjures up
images of angels and demons sword-fighting in Christian sci-fi novels. I get it.
Further, in some circles, the
concept of “demons” is associated with the pattern, and I’d like to acknowledge
here that this concept of “demons” can be a helpful way of perceiving it, as
imagining “demons” can embolden people to become the very prayer warriors they
need to be in order to have victory. The
way I see the pattern, however, is neither sinister nor demonic, but
natural. Perhaps we need a term that is
less off-putting and more precise.
Labor pains. Isn’t that what is happening? We are on a path of birthing something new
and, just when we’re on the brink of birthing it, obstacles and suffering come
forth. We are laboring to birthing
something new. Very little that is truly
meaningful comes without labor and without hardship. So when we see the obstacles, may we not be
defeated. May we not groan at what we’re
told to call “coincidences” and, therefore, lack the boldness to fight. May we name the moment, perhaps as “labor
pains” or the simple pattern of “obstacle, prayer, victory.” By acknowledging the moment for the pattern
it carries, we prepare ourselves to pray with boldness and declare victory.
May any labor pains in our New
Year usher in New Birth. May 2014 be a
year of bold prayer and great victory.
Amen.
©
2014 by Karina Jacobson. All rights reserved. Please use
only with permission from the author.
