My Enemy

My Enemy

My Enemy

I have an enemy. I have an enemy that hates me, that wants to see me suffer and wants to see me fail. I have an enemy that rises up against me, seeking ways to devour my faith, my family, my strength.

This enemy struts around, puffed up, roaring at me about my secret fears, stalking me in my weaknesses, wanting me to tremble, wanting me to falter in my walk so *he* can move in for the killing of my faith.

But, I also know my enemy. I know his voice, the measure of his steps.

And I also know he is truly a coward. He is a coward in the way he attacks. He moves in darkness, trying to slink in through cracks in my armour, hoping to catch me unaware and wanting to get a hold of all I hold dear before I even know what has happened.

Egar Watson Howe said, “If you knew how cowardly your enemy is, you would slap him.”

Does anybody understand that?

I can’t cower down in the face of the adversary. I must face him like the bully he is. I must not be afraid to strike.

But I’m not facing him toe to toe because that is not where I am my strongest, my balance may get shaky and I may stumble or fall.

I am facing him on my knees. It is there he will hear my battle cry as I lift my voice unto the hills from wincing my help comes. I am not waiting for him to make the first move. I am initiating this battle. And I am not afraid.

I want the light within me to shine so brightly that it will expose all his devices. I want that coward to know *I* am not afraid.

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