Castle Demolition

When my husband and I flew into Heathrow airport in the late summer of '06 just before we began our year-long mission assignment in Ireland, we met a friend there who took us on a sightseeing tour of parts of London, as well as her home in Cambridge. 

Y'all, I love England. I love British history. I've pored over history books and British literature since as far back as I can remember, and seeing the places that I'd read about, but were now brought to life and color in front of my eyes, was an incredible experience. Because I didn't look at the ruins of castles and see... you know... ruins. Rather, I saw the king or the lord himself striding through its chilly halls and before its blazing hearths and watched the pig turn on the spit as he waved a goblet of mead before his banner lords. I didn't see cars driving by on streets outside the Tower of London; I saw instead the passage of horses and carts and carriages, and the murmur and chatter of peasantry in the cobblestone streets.

Anyway, if you let me, I'd keep going on all day about that. I did have a point to make, and I want to make it.

Last week, a friend played for me the song I Speak Jesus by Here Be Lions. Here are some of the lyrics:

I just want to speak the Name of Jesus

Till every dark addiction starts to break

Declaring there is hope and there is freedom

I speak Jesus.

'Cause Your Name is power

Your Name is healing

Your Name is life

Break every stronghold

Shine through the shadows

Burn like a fire

As I've listened to that song over and over this week, I realized that when I ask the Lord to break strongholds in my life, I've been guilty of asking Him to... you know... fix strongholds. Before my eyes as this realization swept over me, I saw a castle of my own construction with battlements, turrets, towers, moat, drawbridge, portcullis, and keep -- even a pennant waving in the wind at the top of it.

And I realized, I wanted the Lord to fix the tilted drawbridge, to adjust the crooked portcullis, to double-build the keep walls.

I didn't want the Lord to show up and pull out His wrecking ball to begin demolition on my stronghold.

So this morning when I was reading through Psalm 27, I nearly laughed at how He slides unobtrusive details into my Scripture reading without me even noticing until it hits like a KO punch. 

"The Lord is my light and my salvation -- whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life -- of whom shall I be afraid?" (Psalm 27:1)

The Lord IS the stronghold of my life.

So when I sing that song: "Break every stronghold..." YES! But in the process, set Yourself up as my stronghold, Lord!

In other words, let me stop building my own castle walls, and let me move onto Your solid rock.

You know, it was really odd/awesome for me as an American to experience England and Ireland where... castle ruins are really pretty run-of-the-mill. You're driving along the motorway, glance to the right, and there on a low hill is an old castle. It's not even a tourist destination. It's just a castle that happened to be on someone's farmland, and they never bothered to tear it down.

Anyway, the day we toured Cambridge, our friend led us through the ruins of a small castle. You could see where the walls of the castle had been; there was a line of stones laid out in a large neat rectangle. You could step over them to walk in the grassy interior of the "castle." In the very center of the area was a much smaller square of stones. "The keep," my friend explained. "It was the central stronghold of the castle itself." It, too, was easy to step over and stand in the middle.

The stronghold that had once been the central strength of the castle, the last defensible structure... was no longer. The only trace of it were the scars left in the earth where it had once stood. 

That's how I want my own personal strongholds to be. I want them to be as easy to enter as a small step over a rock. 

I want the Rock... to be Jesus. Because if I have centered myself on Him, surrendered completely to Him, raised the white flag in my shaking keep, and allowed Him entrance, the walls HE builds are HIS walls, and they are protected with HIS protection.

In Ireland, I had the opportunity to see (and photograph) many "round towers," which we were told -- when we were there -- had been built for several purposes, but one of which was as a strong defense in battle. To go with this imagery, the Irish hymn: Be Thou My Vision mentions these:

Be Thou my battle shield, sword for the fight

Be Thou my dignity, Thou my delight

Thou my soul's shelter, Thou my high tower

Raise Thou me heavenward, oh Power of my power.

In Ireland, one of the greatest kings of their history was a king named Brian Boru. He was called the High King, because he held so much power against his enemies. Here again, in the hymn, we see this piece of history crystalize in the lyrics:

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise

Thou mine inheritance, now and always

Thou and Thou only, first in my heart

High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art

High King of heaven, my victory won

May I reach heaven's joys, oh bright heaven's sun

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall

Still be my Vision, oh Ruler of all.

The vision of a High King, Who rules victorious, whose strength is without end, whose castle, keep, and turrets stand strong in the fiercest lashing gales carrying in from the sea (we lived on the coast and experienced sea gales often) is where Psalm 61:1-3 takes me. The Psalmist writes: "Hear my cry, oh God; listen to my prayer! From the ends of the earth I call you You. I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the Rock that is higher than I. For You have been my refuge, a strong tower against the foe."

High King of heaven, demolish my strongholds today. You. Are. My. Stronghold. Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I, and let me rest on Your strong foundation.