Battle Strategy

I've spent a good bit of time on my knees in the last months. I've explained a little of my journey in my previous post, and I want to say, the spiritual weight on my heart is intense. This post will be uncomfortable for some, but it will also be a clarion call for others: God is moving His hand, and we need to step up our game. Are we with Him or against Him? There's no middle ground here.

You know those carpets they lay out for the bride when she walks down the aisle to meet her groom at the front of the church? I mean, it's not like she doesn't know the way, right? She can see her groom; he's not far away. She can see the opening between the pews and the walkway to the front of the church, right? She knows the general direction she needs to walk to get there. And then those cute little kids in their tiny tuxes and gowns pick up the roll bar and unroll that carpet so there is a direct arrow, a specific line along which she has to walk.

God is giving us a line on which to walk. He is giving us specifics; He's giving us immediacy and direction and all sorts of signals, so the battle we're fighting in our prayer times is not just a general idea; He's showing us our path in vivid detail.

Today, I felt powerfully led to pray for strategic warfare. So often, I've prayed blanket prayers, the wider the blanket, the more territory I cover, and I think there's a place for that. But now as we increase our fervency and our hearts to pray for our pastors and for our nation, we need to name our battles.

There is so much power in a name. I remember my Bible teacher when I was a junior in high school talking about the power in the meaning of a name. We were studying the book of Ruth that quarter, and we discussed every character in the story and their name meanings, and then we studied how each one of those names became a sort of theme in their lives. I loved that idea, so I looked up my own name meaning, which is... "palm tree." You can feel my deflation from there, can't you? I was so sad that it wasn't some great spiritual meaning - until one day, when I was jokingly mourning over this to a friend of mine when I lived in Phoenix, Arizona (which is covered with palm trees, by the way), my friend said: "Well, you know, Tamara, that palm trees are the last trees to fall in a storm. Where others come down in the high winds of a hurricane, palm trees bend with the force, but they're incredibly difficult to break and are usually the ones left standing after an assault."

After that, I loved my name.

Along the lines of specific spiritual warfare, today I prayed for "protection for the intercessors," who I believe are on the front lines of spiritual battle. God has many parts to the church: "And God has placed in the church first of all apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then miracles, then gifts of healing, of helping, of guidance, and of different kinds of tongues" (1 Corinthians 12:28), and all of these parts are faithful in carrying out their work. Intercessors are the ones who stand in the gap, are the "watchmen on the wall" (Ezekiel 22:30), and are often the ones Satan goes after first.

Here's a story: when I was in the REACH program at the age of eighteen, during the three months of discipleship training in Columbus, Ohio, we spent a lot of time in spiritual ministry throughout the city of Columbus, and one of those times was on October 31, 1998, Halloween.

In downtown Columbus was a tiny inner-city church that was housed in what used to be a small retail store, complete with a glass front and display windows. Two doors down from the church to the right was a wiccan shop whose owner was a self-proclaimed warlock, a 6'5" burly, bearded man named Charlie*. On Halloween night, 1998, he and some of his colleagues had put together a "witches' ball," a big event that brought together witches and warlocks from all over the state. The event was based in Charlie's shop, but of course there were too many people to crowd inside, so they took over the entire street and spilled out into the surrounding ones. And one door up from the church on the other side was a coffee shop. So the church was situated between the coffeeshop and the wiccan shop.

The leaders of our discipleship training center took all twenty-eight kids from the REACH program that year downtown on Halloween night, and I want to underline this: we didn't go blindly, we didn't go on the spur of the moment. We had prayed intensely about this event, and we had a plan.

When we got there, we parked not too far away. Our leaders put us into the groups to which we'd been assigned. Over our time there, all of us had found direction with certain spiritual gifts, and our groups were based on the gifts that were present in all of us. Those who were gifted with evangelism and pastoral gifts were assigned to walk the streets and interact with the witches, those who had gifts of hospitality, etc., were assigned to sit in the coffeeshop or stand outside of it, and as they felt led, invite people in for conversation over coffee and pastries. Those with the gift of intercession were to meet in the church next door and pave the way for all the others as we prayed and did spiritual battle. There may have been other groups; I think there were, but I don't remember. 

Y'all, I didn't know what spiritual battle was until that night, I don't think. I got into the church with about six other people, and we began to pray. Through the glass front, you could see the streets filling up. It was crowded and incense-y. The aroma came through the glass and was thick even in our area.

We began to pray individually. We spread out around the room and watched what was happening outside as we prayed. It was evening and getting dark, but the street lights lit up everything. People talked, laughed, but there was a heaviness inside of me. I was sitting in the front display window, watching, praying, finding that the words that came were choked and hard to utter. We were innocuous, I thought. No one was going to be bothered by a few people in an old store sitting around.

I watched Charlie wander up the street, looking confused and upset. And then, as I watched and prayed, we locked eyes.

I remember literally jumping as he shouted and pointed and then started toward the glass doors of the church (which were locked).

Immediately, one of the other intercessors said, "Everyone, come here now!" I looked over at her; she was intense and white-faced, and we all ran to the middle of the room. We joined hands, no questions asked, and began praying out loud, simultaneously, all of us. We prayed and prayed. There was a lot of shouting outside. The glass door banged and shivered like it had been assaulted. I glanced back. Charlie had slammed his huge frame against it. We prayed some more. He came at it again, and I didn't know if the doors would hold up.

Two other people came over and strong-armed him a little, and he was shouting and pointing at us inside.

We kept praying. I shut my eyes; the battle wasn't with Charlie. We prayed and prayed, and honestly, the next two hours felt like two minutes. We were on our knees and the battle was intense.

Then - I can't name the second, but maybe I could get pretty close to the minute - there was a sudden change. All at once, peace, deep flooding peace, swept through the room. It went from struggle and out-pouring and words and fervor to an overwhelming sense that our work was done.

We looked up, looked around, blinked at each other, and smiled. All of us felt it; it was as physical as someone in the room with us. We regrouped with the others, and surprisingly, the streets were emptying. The others from our training were coming together on the sidewalk, and the leaders said we'd discuss everything back at the discipleship center. We left.

It was a late night as we all compared stories, and it was amazing how everyone's experiences interlocked. The people on the streets and in the coffeeshop talked about the resistance they'd felt. The ones on the street talked about the spells and the "white magic" the witches were doing while they walked around and engaged them in conversation. There was heaviness and a sense of oppression.

And then suddenly, the spells and rituals wouldn't work. The witches were confused; they talked about how they'd never had trouble before with the things they were doing. When we compared the times, it all came down to that minute where the intercessors felt the break in the wall against which we were praying.

I tell that story because I think it's an important one. It's easy to forget that the spiritual struggle is just as real if not more real than our physical circumstances, since we can't see it with our eyes. We're coming to a time where that struggle is becoming hugely intense.

I'm praying for strategic warfare, that we'll know our gifts and we'll use them. I'm praying for intercessors to be on their knees, for evangelists to open their mouths and speak, for pastors to fearlessly preach the Truth with a capital T, for those who offer hospitality to break down forged barriers, for the prophets to listen, see, and proclaim. I'm praying for encouragement, faithfulness, unplugged ears, unblinded eyes. I'm thankful for the experiences I've had in my past that have helped to prepare me for "such a time as this" (Esther 4:14).

Y'all, we may fear, we may even be tempted to hide, to jump out of that display window when we lock eyes with the enemy, and we may even run away, but when we run, let's run to our knees. Let's be courageous, bold. Let's "live out loud." Let's be faithful with each of the ministries that God has given us. Let's be strategic!

*Given the public nature of this post, names have been changed.