June 14, 2006
Warfare
It has hit me with incredible force that in less than a month I will be in Romania, and to be honest with you, I am scared to death. I have about 60 percent of my funds, and pledges for a little more, and even though I know that it's fruitless to worry about it and that it's not in my hands, I worry anyway. We got our flight schedules and we're flying Carpatair from Stuttgart, Germany to Timisoara and my booked seat on some generic mini-airline has given me something else to focus my nervous energies on.
A few of the other people on my team are actual teachers and sometimes in our meetings as they discuss learning philosophies and education theories, I feel wholly out of place. But then I remember that I have two hands and two feet and willingness to serve however I am needed and I get over myself.
We met on Sunday night at the main NPCC campus, tucked away in a little room across from the auditorium, the church dark after the high schoolers filed out, finished with their small groups and worship for another week, and talked more about our plan of action for the short week we'll be in Timisoara. I took the minutes, filling my notebook with all of our ideas and questions, and I tried not to be overwhelmed by it all. As we were wrapping up, our leader said that she just wanted to mention it briefly, as we would discuss it more at our retreat this weekend, but as we get closer and closer to our go date, we should all be aware of the spiritual warfare that surrounds us. While I think the idea of Frank Peretti style spiritual warfare is better left to the fiction aisle, I do believe that evil is a real force and that if you let him, the devil will sink his hooks in you so deep, you may never shake him loose. And I wondered if perhaps that was why I was feeling so out of sorts lately. I had chalked it up to post-meeting, post-beach blues but maybe it's deeper than that. Maybe it's darkness trying to worm into my heart, trying to make me feel useless and unworthy of such an adventure; trying to make me feel as though maybe God made an judgment in error choosing me for this task.
Most days I accept that while I will always be a sinner saved by grace, I'm still a pretty decent person. A person who holds the door and smiles at strangers and would do anything for a friend. But some days, the knowledge that I am a whore and a thief and a liar is the only knowledge my head will hear. It drowns out the rest: the knowledge that I am loved despite all of those things; that I can never lose my salvation; that even the depth and width of the ocean is nothing compared to the depth and width of God's love and desire for me. So, I do what I've been taught. I pray. I read scripture. I remind myself of the things that need reminding. I picture myself as a three-year-old girl, who stomped the floor and told the devil to go back from whence he came.
But he's a sneaky creature, that devil, and sometimes he'll find a way in, even when you're doing your best to keep him out.
Posted by hannah at 05:42 PM
