My dear friend, I see you are in deep waters, and the waves seem to have voices, all speaking at once against you. There is a neighbor whose tongue is set on fire of hell, and you are scorched by it. Pictures taken in mockery, words whispered and then shouted, a reputation being pulled apart as a child tears the wings from a fly. It is a bitter thing to be so misrepresented, to have your name passed about like a base coin when you know you are genuine silver. And I hear you saying that this person is idle, unemployed, and that their very idleness is the workshop where these devilish schemes are forged. It may well be so. The idle brain is the devil’s smithy, and there he hammers out his worst weapons. But I do not write now to spur you against them; I write to draw you close to the Man of Sorrows who knows this grief firsthand.
Think of your Master. They said He was a glutton and a winebibber. They said He cast out devils by the prince of devils. They took His very words and twisted them into a noose. And He, the Truth itself, stood silent before the lie, because He had entrusted Himself to the One who judges righteously. You are not greater than your Lord. If they have called the Master of the house Beelzebub, how much more will they malign those of His household? When you feel the sharp sting of an arrow, remember that you are in a great company of the pierced. Joseph knew this too. The archers shot at him, and sorely they grieved him. His own brothers envied him, the Egyptian woman falsely accused him, and even the cupbearer forgot him. But his bow abode in strength. Not because he was so clever or so strong in himself, but because the hands of the mighty God of Jacob were underneath his hands. And so it is with you.
You speak of demons, of sorcery, of a spirit that seems to delight in discord and confusion. I do not doubt that there are dark powers behind much of the mischief we suffer. Satan is the accuser of the brethren, and he loves to find an idle tongue he can borrow. But let this comfort you: the enemy is on a leash. He cannot go an inch beyond the chain that sovereign love allows. When Job was slandered by his own friends and stripped of all, it was not because God had lost the reins. The enemy could not even touch the poor man’s body until permission was given, and then only so far. The storm may howl around your house, but the cornerstone stands sure. If God be for you, who can be against you with any final success? Their words are smoke; they will blow away. Your character is hidden with Christ in God, and no thief can break in and steal that.
Do not, I pray you, let yourself be dragged down into the mire by fixing your eyes too long upon this troubler. When a dog barks at the moon, the moon does not stop shining to answer the dog. It simply shines on. And you, you are not called to be the defender of your own reputation; you are called to reflect the light of Christ. That is your only business. Leave your good name in His keeping. He is the Vindicator of the innocent, and He will bring forth your righteousness as the light and your judgment as the noonday. Perhaps not tomorrow, perhaps not in this life, but in that day when the books are opened and the secrets of all hearts are disclosed, you will stand without a stain while the idle words of the gossip will rise up as witnesses against themselves.
I know you feel a burning urge to see this spirit rebuked, to have the magician confounded and the mischief stopped. And God can do it. He can silence a slanderer with a breath. He can turn the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness. But often He does a more wonderful thing: He leaves the enemy to go on a while, that His own child may learn to walk by faith and not by sight, and to find that His smile is more than enough against a thousand frowns. The tree that is most buffeted by the wind drives its roots deepest into the Rock. Present trial is the rough hand that knocks at the door of a promise, and every promise is a love letter from God, even when it comes in a black-edged envelope.
Do you remember the father of the prodigal? When the son was yet a great way off, the father saw him. He saw the rags, the filth, the shame. And he ran. He did not wait for the son to clean himself up. He fell on his neck and kissed him much. That is how your God sees you now, in the midst of this welter of confusion. He sees you bruised and bewildered, perhaps even angry and afraid, and He is not standing at a distance with a scowl. He is near. His eye is upon you, and in that eye there is infinite tenderness. You may not need to be cleansed from some gross sin as the prodigal did, but you need to be cleansed from the dirt thrown by others, and His kiss is your absolution. Let the world talk; the Father’s kiss silences all other voices.
The old man within you will want to take the sword, as Peter did in the garden. He will cry, “Not so, Lord!” when the Master bids you forgive and wait. Peter was still Peter after grace had renewed him. You are still you, with that quick temper, that ready sense of justice, that desire to see the wrong put right immediately. And God knows your frame; He remembers that you are dust. He does not cast you off because you feel the sting so keenly. But gently, gently, He prises your fingers off the hilt and says, “Put up your sword. This cup I have given you to drink. This trial is not a mistake. It is a chisel in the hand of the Sculptor, and He is making you more like His Son.”
Therefore, beloved, go on your way quietly. Walk in the King’s highway; that is, keep to obedience and simple faith. Do not go down the byways of imagination, picturing what you will say to them or how you will bring them down. Do not venture into the dangerous alleys of returning evil for evil. You are on the King’s errand; the King will see to your safe passage. When a man travels on the highway, the constable is bound to protect him; and you are under the protection of the Lord of Hosts. The angels who kept charge of the Lord Jesus will keep charge of you, if you will but abide in the appointed way of patience and charity.
And what of the neighbor? I will say nothing of them now, except this: perhaps they are a soul for whom Jesus died. I know it is hard to see them as such when their mouth is full of venom. But the Lord who saved Saul the persecutor can pluck this brand from the burning. Pray for them. I do not say feel warm towards them, the feeling will come later. But pray. It is a strange thing, but when you bring a person into the presence of God in prayer, the sharp edges of your resentment begin to soften. You cannot curse where you intercede. Commend them to the God who gathers together the outcasts of Israel, who looks not at their outward circumstances but at the man, the immortal soul. If He can love a blasphemer, so can you, by His grace.
Now, dear heart, I commend you to the God of all comfort. Let Him wrap you up in this promise: “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper, and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.” Rest in that. Let your heart stop its feverish beating and lie down in this sweet pasture. The Shepherd is awake. The wolves cannot snatch you from His hand. And soon, when the mists of this little life have cleared, you shall see how every dart was blunted on the shield of His love, and how even this tangle of evil was made to work together for your good. Until then, look not to the left or the right, but straight on to Jesus, the author and finisher of your faith.
Let us pray.
O Lord, who stillest the raging of the sea, speak peace to this troubled child of Thine. Thou knowest the words that have been spoken, the pictures that have been taken in malice, the web of confusion that has been woven. And Thou knowest, too, the ache in the heart, the sleepless nights, the burning sense of wrong. Come, blessed Comforter, and lay Thy cool hand upon the fevered mind. Give this dear one the spirit of meekness and quietness, which is in Thy sight an ornament of great price. Vindicate in Thine own time and way, we pray, but more than that, make them to see that Thy smile is vindication enough. Let them know the fellowship of Thy sufferings, and the power of Thy resurrection. Turn the counsel of the enemy into foolishness, but turn the heart of the sufferer into a still pool reflecting the face of Jesus. Forgive the trespasser, as Thou hast forgiven us our trespasses, and if it be possible, grant them repentance to the acknowledging of the truth. Set a guard about this house and heart, and let no weapon of the evil one prosper. All this we ask in the name and for the sake of Jesus Christ, our Lord and only Saviour. Amen.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
