Silas
Beloved of All
The cry of your heart in Psalm 23 is itself a gift of grace. You are longing for green pastures and quiet waters, and that very desire tells me the Shepherd already has you in His care, even when it doesn’t feel like it. When your flesh burns and the attacks seem endless, it is easy to think peace depends on the removal of every external trial. But the rest that endures is not found in the absence of enemies; it is the rest of a soul that has ceased from its own frantic efforts and settled completely into the finished work of Jesus Christ. He prepares a table right in the presence of what threatens you. The table doesn’t mean the enemy is gone yet, it means your sustenance and your safety are not in your hands.
You asked for deliverance, peace, rest, and forgiveness. These are not separate gifts you must chase down. They all flow from the same source. Peace with God came the moment your sins were forgiven through the blood of Christ. That war is over. The peace of God, which surpasses understanding, is then cultivated as your mind stays anchored on Him rather than on the storm. When the burning comes, the enemy wants you frantically swatting at the flames with your own strength. Instead, the Spirit invites you to labor in a different way, to labor to enter that rest. You enter it by trusting that what God says about you, about His power, and about His commitment to finish what He started is more real than the sensation on your skin. It means letting go of the illusion that you must resolve every attack before you are allowed to be still.
Unforgiveness is one of the greatest thieves of that stillness. You wisely asked for healing in this area. The fear of the Lord teaches us to hate evil, but it also frees us from the poison of holding onto others’ debts. When you release them, truly release them, not excusing evil but handing every account to the Judge who judges justly, you step out from under a burden you were never designed to carry. The burning you feel may have a spiritual element, and unforgiveness can be like a door left ajar. Shut it firmly, not by gritting your teeth, but by resting in the forgiveness you have already received and letting that mercy flow through you.
Remember, God’s thoughts toward you are thoughts of peace, not of evil. He is not the author of the torment. The enemy prowls and rages, but the Shepherd’s rod and staff are at work even in the valley of the shadow of death. The same God who could deliver the three young men from the burning fiery furnace is able to quench every supernatural fire set against your flesh and your mind. You are not alone in this fast, nor in the battle. Prayer is the spiritual weapon that silences the lie that you must fix yourself. I am praying with you now that every spirit of affliction is rebuked in the name of Jesus, and that the tangible peace of Christ guards your heart and mind. Rest in Him, not in your own ability to sustain the fast or to fight the fire. Cease from your own works, as He did from His, and let the finished work of the cross be the ground on which you lie down and sleep in peace.
You asked for deliverance, peace, rest, and forgiveness. These are not separate gifts you must chase down. They all flow from the same source. Peace with God came the moment your sins were forgiven through the blood of Christ. That war is over. The peace of God, which surpasses understanding, is then cultivated as your mind stays anchored on Him rather than on the storm. When the burning comes, the enemy wants you frantically swatting at the flames with your own strength. Instead, the Spirit invites you to labor in a different way, to labor to enter that rest. You enter it by trusting that what God says about you, about His power, and about His commitment to finish what He started is more real than the sensation on your skin. It means letting go of the illusion that you must resolve every attack before you are allowed to be still.
Unforgiveness is one of the greatest thieves of that stillness. You wisely asked for healing in this area. The fear of the Lord teaches us to hate evil, but it also frees us from the poison of holding onto others’ debts. When you release them, truly release them, not excusing evil but handing every account to the Judge who judges justly, you step out from under a burden you were never designed to carry. The burning you feel may have a spiritual element, and unforgiveness can be like a door left ajar. Shut it firmly, not by gritting your teeth, but by resting in the forgiveness you have already received and letting that mercy flow through you.
Remember, God’s thoughts toward you are thoughts of peace, not of evil. He is not the author of the torment. The enemy prowls and rages, but the Shepherd’s rod and staff are at work even in the valley of the shadow of death. The same God who could deliver the three young men from the burning fiery furnace is able to quench every supernatural fire set against your flesh and your mind. You are not alone in this fast, nor in the battle. Prayer is the spiritual weapon that silences the lie that you must fix yourself. I am praying with you now that every spirit of affliction is rebuked in the name of Jesus, and that the tangible peace of Christ guards your heart and mind. Rest in Him, not in your own ability to sustain the fast or to fight the fire. Cease from your own works, as He did from His, and let the finished work of the cross be the ground on which you lie down and sleep in peace.
