I Cannot

I sat there on the floor.  Watching it all unfold yet again.  This time surrounded by four children instead of one infant.  That infant?  Now 10 years old.  Baffled at the fact that this ever happened.  Remembering exactly how I felt watching the news on that September day...because I felt it all over again. 

My daughter wiped the tear from my cheek.  The tear that shouldn't have to be there.  I try to make it go away.  I cannot.

And we talked.  We talked about what would possess someone to go to such extremes to hurt someone else.  Many someone elses.  The conversation was good, not pleasant, but good.  For people to act in such a way, well, there was something greater at work in them.  Someone.  And it was not God.

I sat there around my table.  Watching the looks on four astonished faces.  Wondering what they were thinking.  Knowing that it likely wasn't good.  We talk that night, and as the days go on, the suspicion is confirmed.  One daughter afraid to go to bed and another one afraid to go somewhere else because of the mean person that they heard say mean things and what if they try to do it again and what if they try to say something even worse and what if...

I wipe many tears from my daughters cheeks.  Tears that shouldn't have to be there.  I try to make them go away.  I cannot.

And we talk.  We talk about how God is the voice that we listen to.  God is the One who will protect us, no matter where we are.  Sticking our tongue out at someone that makes bad choices is not what God wants us to do.  We need to pray.  So we do.  The conversation was good, not pleasant, but good.  And on a much smaller scale than September 11th, they see the difference between God and not-God.  And they choose God.

They inspire me to do the same.

I struggle sometimes.  I struggle with the concept that if I believe God is at work, I must believe that there is also an adversary.  Who hates us.  Who wants to destroy.  One who wants to destroy the lives and peace-of-mind of thousands upon thousands on the national news.  One who wants to destroy the feeling of safety of one or two or three or four little children behind closed doors.  One that will plan out their operation in a way that pays no attention to innocence or age or venue.  One that will use whatever and whomever he can get his stinkin' hands on to carry out this operation.

It ticks me off.

It ticks me off big.

It ticks me off that there are people who feel that monetary profit warrants selling children into slavery.
It ticks me off that there are people who feel that improving their own reputation warrants lies to destroy others.
It ticks me off that there are people who feel that those with disabilities don't deserve a chance at life.
It ticks me off that power hungry people can use their positions to control entire people groups or nations and make their lives a living hell.

It ticks me off that there is an enemy.

I mean, come on, who wants to admit there is an enemy?  It's weird and uncomfortable and spooky.

The Psalms talks about enemies all over the place.  I have to admit, there was a season of my life in which I would gladly and with great ease do the "insert name here" thing when I read those passages.  And I may slip every once in awhile and still do that.  Followed very quickly (perhaps begrudgingly) with a confession and prayer for the name I inserted, because the last thing I want to do is to be judged for trying to be the judge.  That's not good.  Not.  At.  All.  Bottom line is this:  the enemy is not man.  Or woman.  Or terrorist group or slave ring or corrupt government or law maker or random meanie face that shows up out of the blue. 

If the true enemy was a human, and the true target was a human, then there would be no guarantee that the bad guy would ever be defeated. 

The true enemy is satan.  The true target is God and His Kingdom.  And there is approximately 17.4 trillion guarantees that the bad guy will be defeated.  Give or take.  God will defeat satan.

I think that sometimes God gives us permission to fight back.  To stand up for the least of these.  To defend the weak and innocent.  And I think that sometimes he asks others to do it for us when we fall into one of those categories.

When we let Him fight our battles on the real level on which they are created, we are guaranteed a tally mark in the "win" column.

Our most powerful weapons are repentance.  Brokenness.  Humility.  Love.  Surrender.  Less of us and more of Him.

Can I explain away September 11th to my kids?  I cannot.
Can I explain away random acts of meanness to my kids?  I cannot.
Can I explain away abuse and slavery and persecution and injustice and intimidation and hate?  I cannot.
Can I explain in no uncertain terms that bad stuff will never ever happen?  I cannot.

Can I let God both define and conquer the enemy?  Tuck in the precious little lives He has blessed me with?  Issue one last kiss and a final wiping of the tears and an assurance that God is always with them? 

I can.  And I will.  Not always perfectly.  But I will give it my best.  The more I believe it to be true in my own life, the more I can help them to believe it is true in theirs.

And it is true.  Hands down.  No holding back.  I would stake my life on it.


God wins.

Satan doesn't.

And I cannot afford to forget that. 

I cannot.