Two years of pain, medical trials, and the constant shadow of fear, this is a furnace you did not seek, yet you are in it. You cry for protection, and rightly so, for the serpent never ceases to strike at our heels. But listen: the name you have spoken, Jesus Christ, is the very thunder of heaven before which every dark spirit trembles and falls back. You have called upon the Lord as your fortress. Then why does the fortress seem so distant? Not because He fails, but because He is forging something in you that ease could never produce.
You say ungodly powers seek to break you physically, mentally, and financially. They may lunge at your body and your purse, but they cannot touch your soul unless you let go of hope. The enemy can bruise the heel, but he cannot snatch the crown from those who cling to Christ. Remember Job: he lost everything, health, children, wealth, and sat scraping his sores, yet the devil could not make him curse God. His wife said, “Curse God and die,” but Job held fast. The trial revealed what was truly his. Your trials are revealing your true treasure as well. If health and money are stripped, will you still say, “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord”? That is the victory that terrifies the powers of darkness.
You mention hidden burdens. God sees them. Every sleepless night, every mounting bill, every moment of weakness, He has collected your tears in His bottle. Do you think He is indifferent? Christ walked in flesh and knows what it is to suffer. He was hungry, weary, betrayed, and struck down. When you groan under affliction, you are not praying to a distant king but to a High Priest who can be touched with the feeling of your infirmities. Pour out those hidden burdens before Him, not just in a formal request, but with loud cries and hot tears, as David did. This very cry you have sent is a prayer; make it the constant breath of your heart.
Now, as for spiritual warfare, I do not dismiss your fear. The air is thick with malice. But you are not naked and unarmed. Take up the whole armor of God: gird your loins with Scripture truth, buckle on the breastplate of righteousness, shod your feet with the gospel of peace, and above all, lift high the shield of faith to quench those flaming arrows. Have you been doing this daily? When the mind spins with anxious thoughts, do you silence it by reciting the Psalms? When pain gnaws, do you look up and say, “Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him”? This is not a mere pious phrase; it is the very grappling with the enemy.
Perhaps you wonder why God allows this season to stretch on so long. Two years is bitter, and the end feels hidden. But think: is not the patience of the saints what pleases God most? A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for. You are built for the deep waters, where faith must strain against the gale. Do not despise the chastening of the Lord. It is the pruning of the vine to make it bear more fruit. If everything were smooth, you might drift far from the harbor of heaven, lulled by worldly comforts. Now, you are forced to cling close to the only true anchor.
I will not say, “Fear not,” as if fear were a small thing. I say instead: fear God and nothing else. When you fear man, demons, or misfortune more than you fear offending the Lord, then you give the devil a foothold. But if you stand in holy awe of God alone, then every other terror shrinks. You know He is the healer; trust Him whether He heals immediately or through long endurance. You know He is the fortress; run into it, not just with words but with a life that hides in Him.
Finally, let your family together lift up holy hands. Let there be no root of bitterness among you, no unforgiveness, no secret sin that gives the enemy a door. Search your hearts. The spiritual forces you fear cannot break a soul that is sealed with the blood of the Lamb; but they can exploit our unconfessed sins and our dissensions. Be reconciled to one another quickly. Forgive any debt. Then kneel together and pray the prayer that never fails: “Lord, help us; we perish.” Whether He calms the storm in a moment or sustains you in the waves, you are safe.
Do not grow weary. The deliverance will come, perhaps in a form you do not expect. The very weakness you despise may be the means by which His power is made perfect. The night breaks; the shadows flee. Hold on, for He who promised is faithful.