Tag Archives: spiritual warfare

Waging warfare through Psalm 18

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It seemed like a normal day. I was going about my ordinary household tasks, for the most part on automatic. But during the course of the day I became aware of where my heart was going. I realized that I was continuing to be bombarded by temptations in my thoughts, and that I was coyly flirting with the enemy, even though it was only barely at the level of consciousness. Because, after all, I was still washing clothes and cleaning the kitchen and doing school and answering emails and carrying on with life.

Under this bombardment of wrong desires, anxiety, and wrong attitudes, I grew more and more acutely aware of the weakness and inability of my heart to resist temptations so strong. I knew through painful experience where my own flirtations could lead: I am all too subject to being drawn away by my own lusts and enticed. So, under the pretense of “going to go rest,” I took my Bible to bed and began to pray through Psalm 18.

I love Psalm 18. I’ve loved it for decades. I love the way David starts it out with a declaration of determination. Not “help me to love You,” but “I will love You.” I love his proclamation of who God is to him—nine proclamations, in three sets of three—as the introduction to his astounding story. My Rock, my Fortress, my Deliverer. My God, my Strength, the One in whom I trust. My Shield, the Horn of my salvation, and my High Tower.

I will call on the Lord, who is . . . who is . . . Not “who is very powerful.” Not “who is faithful.” Those are true. But where is his focus? “Who is worthy to be praised.”

This is going to be good.

I was overwhelmed by my enemies. I was afraid. Yes, Lord, that’s me. They are too strong for me. I’m afraid I’ll be taken captive.

In my distress, I cried out to the Lord. Yes, Lord, that’s what I’m doing. I’m terribly distressed, and I’m crying out to You. You are the only one who can rescue me.

The whole psalm has me on the edge of my seat, but this next part is especially exciting. God heard. God came. And not quietly and calmly, but in a storm of thunder and lightning and hailstones and fire and blackness and earthquakes and chariots. With a blast of His breath, He vanquished the enemy.

Yes, Lord, I trust You! You will do that for me! I cry out to You to do that for me!

Then David makes one statement after another about his own integrity, his own righteousness in the situation with Saul. For me, these are statements of my righteousness in Christ. So I could assert “I have kept the ways of the Lord, and have not wickedly departed from my God,” because I knew that Christ had done that for me, and I am in Christ. I came to the Lord guilty, asking forgiveness, but now I stood before Him clean in the cleansing power of my Savior.

Then David’s whole demeanor changes. He is no longer the fearful one, hiding in the shadows. The deliverance of the Lord has empowered him. Now he is a new man. He is strong. By Thee I have run through a troop! Yes, Lord, You will strengthen me to charge through theses enemies. By my God I have leaped over a wall! I have seen it in my life before, Lord, I remember that wall, and I remember how You empowered me to leap over it. Your way is perfect. You are the only God. You are the only Rock. You give me hinds’ feet to walk on my high places. Show me my high places, Lord. I want to walk on them! Let me see my hinds’ feet. Increase my faith!

My arms are strong enough to break a bronze bow. Your gentleness has made me great. Now I have chased after my enemies and destroyed them, because you have filled me with strength.

One amazing statement after another to meditate on, all pointing to the power and glory and mighty salvation of our matchless God. Through the salvation of my great Savior, I am victorious beyond my dreams.

For about an hour I fought through Psalm 18. By the end of it, exhaustion put me to sleep.

It wasn’t long before I got up and returned to my housework and schoolwork. But the temptations to sin in my thoughts had fallen away, the Lord had conquered the enemy once again, and my mind was free to praise Him without the constant bombardment.

Though I know I am still new at this, I am waging warfare. Though I know I still have much to learn, He is teaching me to overcome my enemies through faith.

And all of it, all of it, comes through the power of my Savior Jesus Christ. He, unlike any other, is worthy to be praised.

There’s no power in prayer

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I just googled “power in prayer” and got about forty thousand responses. I’m guessing I might be in the minority here.

But I think if you consider it, you’ll agree that there’s no more power in prayer than there is in a cry for help. Let’s say you’re drowning in the middle of the ocean. You can cry out for rescue at the top of your lungs. But neither your crying nor your flailing will accomplish anything. All the actual power comes from the one who swoops down to save you.

Let’s say you’re making a request before the King of the Universe. You enter His throne room with the utmost respect (without fear, though, because you’re a member of his family). You make your request, perhaps with tears. But the tears notwithstanding, how much power is there in those words to accomplish the thing you’re asking for? Basically none. All the power lies in the hands of the One who can do or deny what you ask.

Let’s say you’re engaged in major warfare. You feel that you’re being overwhelmed by enemy forces. You cry out for reinforcements, or maybe to be airlifted out of the area. How much power is there in that cry for deliverance, that searching of the skies? None. All the power, all the power lies with the Rescuer, the Deliverer, the Accomplisher.

If there is no power in prayer, why do people want to think that there is? Every Christian I’ve met, without exception, will acknowledge that prayer is important. In spite of this, though, many Christians don’t take prayer as seriously as they might, perhaps seeing God as more their teammate than their Only Hope.

The concept of “power in prayer” seems to be meant to be an impetus. After all, if you’re going to move the Hand that moves the world, that’s pretty powerful stuff. So let’s get praying. And then when God does something, we can say to each other, “I felt your prayers.” Pat your back. Praise you.

But the fact is that outside the power of Jesus Christ, I’m really utterly helpless. My arms are far too weak even to budge the Hand that moves the world.

So does this inability deter me from prayer? Far from it! It actually has become perhaps my greatest motivation for prayer. Since understanding the truth of my desperate dependence, I run to my Savior far more often, with far greater fervency, even asking far bigger things than before. Because all the power is in Him—none in me or in anything I do, even praying.

This is a great comfort, a great joy. Because the Rescuer, the Accomplisher, the Deliverer—the One I call out to many times a day—is unutterably Good, delighting to do mighty works for His glory. Our constant dependence on Him, in the power of His Holy Spirit, to deliver us moment by moment, and to accomplish great things—even through us!—serves as our constant reminder that to Him be all the glory and praise both now and forever. Amen.