Recently I heard Jimmy Evans, one of my favorite marriage guru guys, say, “If the devil can’t stop you, He will push you.”
I constantly feel the enemy’s pointy fingers pressing against my back on a daily basis.
Jimmy continued his message with, “You can either pray or worry. If you don’t pray, you will worry.”
Good night. I felt Jimmy’s words were pointed right at me, the wimpy worrier. I do stress myself out—and it drives me nuts.
I know God’s got our current situation—the one where our house sprang major leaks after hurricane Irma pummeled South Florida during the month of September in 2017. We had leaks so bad my hubby staggered buckets and beach towels along our terrazzo floor to prevent our kiddos from slipping. A month or so later around the end of October, our insurance company denied our claim because the inspector said there was “no visible opening” in our roof.
We have a cement roof.
Our hurricane inspector actually said, “I wouldn’t rip this roof off, it’s a fortress!”
Mind you, he never stepped foot in our attic to take a look at the water damage underneath our said fortress, but he did shine his handy flashlight into our bathroom closet and pointed out that we had an icky, black mold-ring the size of a chair cushion from where water had dripped away.
For months water continued to dribble through our roof each time it rained. That’s when we contacted a mold company who told us, “You know, your insurance should cover this.” Should being the iffy word here, but nonetheless, we’ve played the insurance phone-tag game for months trying to get another inspector to come out and actually walk through our attic and document our mold, since we had found out that the last inspector had never even submitted photos of the mold to our insurance.
Is anyone else’s blood boiling yet?
This is the point where my flesh is screaming, where my Jesus-loving nature is being pushed so hard I’m about to lose my witness.
We’re creeping up to five months breathing in mold. I’ve called my insurance company, trying to get them to take another look. Where there’s sitting water, mold grows. We even paid for a mold inspection, and company said they can now detect some in our kitchen.
This isn’t good.
But I can still hear Jimmy’s words, “Dabney, you can either pray or worry. If you don’t pray, you will worry.”
Who’s with me? Who’s tired of worrying if their job will come through, if the sickness will heal, if the bills will get paid, if our child will finally pick the right path? If they will ever get married?
If there are any other fellow worriers who want to kick the enemy out of their head, please speak up. I don’t know about you, but when I worry, I stress myself into a mess. That’s when I re-read more notes I’d taken from Jimmy’s message:
“Stress robs the joy of life.”
“Stress causes emotional fatigue.”
“Stress robs your job, your time.”
“Stress causes sickness.”
“If the devil can’t stop you, He’ll push you too fast.”
And I knew that’s exactly what’s been happening. Satan knows if I feel shoved, I’ll stress out and my head will spin, making me one crummy mommy.
But not today. I’m giving God all my stress:
I know my leaky, moldy roof will be fixed.
God’s got this, along with my other worries.
I know our rental house will sell.
God’s got this.
I know we’ll find the perfect duplex to purchase and find solid, long-term renters.
God’s got this.
I know my husband’s crazy, busy job will mellow out, and he’ll finally find a healthy balance.
God’s got this.
And you know what?
He’s got your stressor, too.
Today’s the day we fight back. If two or more walk together, He is there. Who wants to join forces and pray for those pushy fingers of the enemy to fall off your back? I’m planning a military guard against this invasion, one that starts with a circle of my sweet family holding hands, and believing these problems are solved. I’d also covet the prayers of my precious prayer warriors to believe with me that God has this situation covered.
“The Lord is on my side. I will not fear. What can man do to me?”
God’s on your side. He just said so. ; )
We can either pray, or worry. Today let’s pray so we don’t worry.
Feel my pointy fingers, Satan? They’re pushing right back, Mr. Shovey-man.
(Said with the love and grace of Jesus, of course.)
“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances;for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”
~1 Thessalonians 5:16-18