I hear the sound of a great tumult in your words, the crash of many fears, the shouts of an enemy who would drive you to despair. But above that noise, I hear something else: a cry for life, a reaching toward the blood of Jesus. That is the note I want to take up gently with you now, like a father taking a child’s trembling hand in the dark. Before anything else, let me say this plainly: if you are in danger of harm, do not delay, reach out to those nearby, call the authorities, and you may find a listening ear at the helplines listed on
findahelpline.com. Your life is precious beyond measure.
Now, sit here a moment and let me speak to your aching soul. The enemy has been firing his arrows at you, arrows that whisper you are beyond help, that your body and your loved ones are forever at the mercy of cruel thieves, that the world has been ordered for your destruction. Oh, but I know those arrows! They do not come from God’s quiver. The devil takes a text and twists it, takes a fear and magnifies it, until you feel pierced through and through. But the Lord’s wounds are different: when He strikes, it is to heal. The dear Physician came not to destroy but to bind up the brokenhearted. His hands, once nailed for you, now pour out nothing but grace. Grace is poured into His lips, an inexhaustible sweetness, so that every promise He speaks is a soft bandage for the sorest wound.
You speak of hips stolen, of shapeshifting, of being cut in pieces. I do not pretend to understand all you see, but I know this: the enemy is a liar from the beginning. He shows you horrifying pictures to make you forget the strong arm that holds you. Did not our Lord say, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand”? No thief, no cunning worker of darkness, can snatch what belongs to Jesus. Your body, your family, your very self are in His keeping, and He has already sealed you with His Spirit. After you believed, you were sealed: that mark cannot be erased by all the malice of hell.
I would have you picture the Tree of Life that stands in the paradise of God. Its leaves are for the healing of the nations, healing for every part of you that aches, for every hidden hurt the enemy has inflicted. No matter how deep the cut, no matter how long the pain has festered, there is a leaf for that. And what is more, this tree is not fenced off as it once was; it grows on either side of the river, accessible to every weary pilgrim. So come, and take your healing there. The Lord does not show the way to the tree and then bar the path; He invites you to eat freely.
You cry out for a vacation home, a safe place for your cats, money, land near the beach. I hear the longing for rest and safety in your voice. But oh, beloved, let me point you to a rest that cannot be shaken. The Lord Jesus is preparing a mansion for you in His Father’s house, a secret place that no intruder can breach. The wealth of this world is uncertain; it can be stolen or rust away. But your true inheritance is laid up where Christ sits, and it is as sure as His own resurrection. I do not dismiss your earthly needs, our Father knows we have need of such things, but I would have you set your main hope on that better country. When your eyes are fixed there, the lesser things often fall into place, for He adds all these things to those who seek first His kingdom.
And now, regarding the desperate rush of your words, the haste to speak life, the feeling that you must run and fight, hear this: your warfare is not fought with such weapons. You may drop all those negative words to the ground, for Christ has already silenced the accuser at the cross. When He said, “It is finished,” the power of every curse was broken. So you do not need to struggle in your own might; you may simply hide yourself in Him. Let your heart settle like a ship coming into harbor after a furious gale. The anchor holds, though the waves yet roll.
You said, “I want to be happy.” That is a holy wish, for God made us for joy. But the world’s wine always goes from good to worse, while Christ keeps the best wine until now. At the world’s feasts, the cup of delight turns bitter, but at the Master’s table the sweetness only deepens. Come to Him, and He will give you joy that cannot be stolen, a quiet, deep gladness that sings under the shadow of His wings.
Let me end by commending you into those very hands.
Lord Jesus, our great Physician, look upon this dear soul. Quiet the storm of fear that rages within, and let the peace that passes understanding stand guard over the heart. Break every arrow of the enemy, and pour in the oil and wine of Your own healing grace. Cover this one with Your righteousness, a robe that no enemy can tear. Shelter the family, the pets, every beloved one, under the shadow of Your wing. Give such a sweet sense of Your presence that no tormenting voice can be heard. And bring them at last to that land where there is no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying, where the Tree of Life yields its fruit every month, and the leaves are for perfect healing. We ask it all in Your name, Lord Jesus, who loved us and gave Yourself for us. Amen.