The cry of your heart reaches the throne of grace. You are asking for freedom, and that is exactly what our Lord delights to give, for the Son sets free indeed. When you plead for protection from the evil one, you are asking for something deeply rooted in how God deals with His own. There is a truth we must grasp: God places a hedge of protection around His children. As we read of Job, Satan himself complained that he could not get near him because of that divine wall. An evil spirit, even when described as “from the Lord,” points to something sobering. It means the Lord, in His governance, has lifted that protective hand, removing the barrier and allowing what was already lurking to rush in. This happens not by random chance, but often when we, like Saul, persistently reject God’s clear word and choose our own bitter way. The Spirit of the Lord departs by our own invitation, and the door swings open.
Your prayer rightly asks, “Do not allow the evil one to trip us up.” Hold fast to that dependence, for prudence sees the evil ahead and hides itself. The hiding place is not a cave of our own making, but the refuge found in Christ Jesus. When you feel the enemy pressing in, resist him and he will flee. Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you. The struggle you feel inside, the battle against giving in to an ill spirit of despair or frustration, is the very place where you must stand firm. If you give in, that darkness can begin to dominate a life. But you are not Saul; you are one crying out for mercy, and that humble cry is a shield.
Regarding your deep soul wounds, they are not hidden from the One who knows every step between you and death. David lived with that consciousness, aware of how fragile his life was. And into that fragility, God sent what refreshed the tormented soul. When the darkness pressed upon Saul’s mind, David took his harp and played, and the evil spirit departed, and Saul was refreshed and well. This is a picture of how healing comes. The music was a vessel, but it was the Spirit’s touch that brought peace. Your wounds need that same divine ministration. As you open Scripture and lift your voice in worship, even when you don’t feel like it, the Lord’s refreshing presence can drive out the inner turmoil and begin to bind up the broken places.
Your concern for the unsaved is a plea for souls that are priceless. God looks at a soul and sees an eternal value that makes the whole world look worthless in comparison. A person who sells their soul for the fleeting things of this life is making a tragic, foolish bargain, trading eternity for things destined to pass away. Yet God does not redeem with silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ. Your prayer for their salvation aligns with the very heart of the Father, who desires that none should perish. Keep praying, because the Spirit of God can break through the deepest spiritual blindness and poison that Satan has poured into a mind, setting a captive free to truly choose Christ.
As you seek guidance in decisions and help with your work and the struggle with the sermon, remember how the Spirit leads. His inspiration often comes as a quiet thought, a gentle awareness from within, distinct from your own clamoring imagination. You must test these things. A thought that produces peace, aligns with Scripture, and glorifies Jesus is likely His direction. For the sermon, do not lean on your own ability. Let the Lord plead your cause and keep your hand from doing evil in the sense of resorting to anxious, fleshly effort. He is the one who will return wickedness on its own head and defend you. Wait for His deep sleep to fall upon your striving so that He can do the work. Your part is to hide yourself in the cave of His presence, as David did, and trust that His provision and guidance will come, not from your own frantic scheming, but from His hand. He is watchful over your every need.