Sunday, March 31, 2013

Prayer in spiritual warfare

We live in a world of spiritual warfare. In "No Small Snakes," author Gordon Dalbey describes an
prayer warfare
experience with a particularly frustrating member of his church, Liz:
If any situation bore a potential for conflict, she seemed to know supernaturally how to spark it. My training in psychology and knowledge of her painful childhood suggested several reasons for her disruptive manner, and for some time I compassionately tried to overlook it. Yet as she grew even quicker to assume conflict at church events, my 'pure compassion' gave way to an equally pure anger.

That night, we needed to discuss forming a new worship committee, and Liz -- in her late sixties -- urged three women over 65 for the three-member committee. At that, my inner leash broke, and I cried out in my spirit, Lord, what can I do about this woman? I know You want me to love her, but what she does is making me furious!

In that moment of surrender to God, I sensed the enemy at work. At once, I confessed and released my anger at her and asked God to show me through His Holy Spirit what was going on. The word contention came to mind, and I silently bound a spirit of contention in Liz. She became noticeably subdued, but I could see that she was nevertheless chafing at the bit to stir further conflict.

I asked God for a spirit of wisdom and then spoke to the committee, saying simply that we needed a cross-section of worship sensibilities, which three women in the same age bracket would not provide. Liz huffed and was about to speak, but I silently bound the contention again and others picked up the discussion.

After praying for her for several weeks, I finally knew I had to talk openly with Liz and went to see her. Thanking her for her years of service to the church, I then told her straightforwardly, with no anger, that her contentious attitude was becoming an obstacle to open discussion at the church. I hoped that such as truth-telling would spur her own will to cooperate more with others at the church -- though I never told her about my prayers of binding the enemy in her. As I anticipated, she was upset that I 'would say such a thing,' but I prayed to hold my ground, and she listened.

Thereafter, I demonstrated my compassion for her by thanking her when she was either supportive or helpfully critical in other settings, and by continuing to bind the enemy's power over her. In time, those who had before come to me complaining of Liz's manner told me how much nicer she had become.

Pay attention to your interactions with people. Sometimes there may be more at work than we notice on the surface.

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