In western society there is a long lead up to Christmas. No sooner have the gifts been opened and the discarded boxes added to the trash, we are on to the New Year. Lots of talk about resolutions and a new decade and a fresh beginning. Today Marks the day before the day before.

Tomorrow—New Year’s Eve—is as much a holiday as New Year’s Day. Maybe more so. Today is just the day before the day before the new year. And when New Year’s Day falls in the middle of the week, as it does this year, no one really knows what to do with the day before the day before. Do we go back to work? Try to return to our normal routine? Extend the usual day off for New Year’s?

It’s awkward. A bit of 2019 we simply don’t know what to do with.

The good thing is, God knows.

No days are wasted in His economy. No passing of time slips by His notice.

So, too, the day before the day before.

For one, we can use the day before the day before the New Year begins to evaluate the old year, and in this end of the decade, we can even evaluate the past ten years.

I mean, people are always making a five year plan or even a ten year plan. Where do you see yourself in ten years, they ask.

Looking back is a great prelude to looking forward.

When we think about the great goodness God has shown to us over the past decade, it can give our faith a shot in the arm.

The Bible is replete with “stones of remembrance.” God wants us to remember. In the NAXV the word “remember” occurs 168 times, most (but not all) in a positive light. Many of those references identify things God remembers, such as His covenant with the people of Israel.

Still others are admonitions for His people to remember His wonderful deeds.

To help out, God gave, at various times, tangible objects which were to trigger our memories. For example, to the people coming out of Egypt, God gave them commands and directed Moses to put on the priestly garments, tassels to remind them of the commandments.

There were also the piles of stones when Israel crossed the Jordan God miraculously dried for them: one pile from the river, deposited in the Promised Land; another pile from the Promised Land into the bed of the Jordan River.

I could go on about Passover and the institution of the celebration to remember God’s miraculous deliverance of His people from Egypt. Or the institution of the Feast of Booths or many other tangible “stones of remembrance” God gave. The Sabbath, for example. God tied the Sabbath to one main thing: His creation of the world. When the people of Israel kept the Sabbath, they were to rest as God rested from His creative work.

In the New Testament, God instituted communion and baptism for the purposes of remembering. Jesus specifically said we are to take of the cup and the broken bread in remembrance of Him and His death. Baptism does even more, bringing to life our identification with Jesus in His death and resurrection.

Amazingly, in the New Testament letters, the writers, from time to time, told Christ followers to remember where we came from, what our condition was like before we gave our lives to Jesus. I find that interesting because God says He forgets our sins, that He puts them from Him as far as the east is from the west. But we, on the other hand, He tells to remember our former condition. Not necessarily former specific sins; but lost estate:

Therefore remember that formerly you, the Gentiles in the flesh, who are called “Uncircumcision” by the so-called “Circumcision,” which is performed in the flesh by human hands—remember that you were at that time separate from Christ, excluded from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who formerly were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. (Eph. 2:11-13)

The point is, in remembering we can more clearly move forward, embracing the good gifts God has give us, whether salvation through Jesus or the everyday gifts we share with the common sparrows and the unremarkable flowers which God feeds and clothes.

So perhaps the day before the day before is the best day to remember. What good things has God done?

In this last decade, we’ve seen changes here at Spec Faith. We have said hello to some regular contributors and good-bye to others. We’ve reviewed any number of books, critiqued any number of movies and even TV programs. We have talked about social trends and spiritual trends. We have hosted numerous guest writers and read a good many novel or story excerpts.

Undoubtedly the biggest development has been the launch of Lorehaven and the efforts to engage readers in actually reading, reviewing, discussing speculative fiction. (If you haven’t already signed up to receive your free copy, I suggest you do so ASAP.)

May you, on this day before the day before, take a moment or ten to look at where you have been—as a reader, a writer, a person—and thank God for what He has done in your life during this past year, this past decade. And may you have a safe and sane New Year’s Eve and a happy New Year.

Photo from Pexels by Jill Wellington, Anna-Louise, and cottonbro

On the eve of December 20, many of my friends were out watching Star Wars: Rise of Skywalker. But where was I? Seeing Cats instead.

Before I was a sci-fi nerd, I was a singer. And then an actress. And then a theater major. I’ve made the choice to shelve the stage life during my children’s little years. But when I watch a musical on TV or have the pleasure of seeing one on stage, I can barely sit still. I feel like Quicksilver from X-Men—all twitchy and ready to jump in at any moment.

For me, watching Cats was (mostly) dreamy and euphoric. The sets were gorgeous, the performances perfection. I especially liked that they deepened the plot and raised the stakes. I could have gone without Rebel Wilson and James Corden as they didn’t match the feel of the film, but those are minor infractions in the grand scheme of things. Not to mention this new version is legit fantasy now since they added a magical villain and gave Mr. Mistoffelees real magic as well.

But—truth be told, the message in this story is a hot mess.

The good and bad within the songs and goals resembles a jumbled plate of spaghetti. I’m going to attempt to disentangle its pieces, but someone will probably walk away from this review thinking, “That’s not what that song meant!”

One cat’s quest: an idolatrous yet sympathetic desire for happiness

The basic, spoiler-free plot is a group of “Jellicle” cats that introduce themselves through song to newcomer, Victoria (Francesca Hayward). Each cat who sings is throwing their name into the hat for a second life—eventually chosen by Old Deuteronomy (Judi Dench). Most cats are beloved by all with the exception of, Macavity (Idris Elba), and Grizabella (Jennifer Hudson). Much to everyone’s chagrin, Victoria takes a liking to the shunned Grizabella.

The first installment of Grizabella’s despairing song, “Memory” (one of the biggest Broadway hits of all time), tells of her past as a glamour cat and her present longing for her beautiful youth and happiness. What’s striking about this part of the story is how destitute and rejected she’s become over the years. Not only because she’s no longer accepted by the other cats, but because she seems to exist only on memories of past happiness and the thought that tomorrow the sun will rise again.

But in all this darkness, composer Andrew Lloyd Webber weaves one single ray of hope: “I must think of a new life, and I mustn’t give in.” While in the midst of longing for her past happiness and beauty, she has a sliver of hope for another life granted by the revered cat, Old Deuteronomy.

Grizabella’s story is not an easy one to understand, and its moral message is not straightforward. On the one hand, she has become destitute because she is no longer beautiful. It seems that was all that made her happy in life—vanity, a chasing after the wind (Ecclesiastes 1:14). On the other hand, she seems to be asking for love and acceptance by the other cats who hate her. And that is what makes the viewer sympathetic to her plight.

How does this hold up against the Bible? The Christian life should not be one of looking back at what we had, but of what we will have in eternity. Grizabella manages to do a little of both, but not very well. Cats such as Jennyanydots (Rebel Wilson) are only interested in continuing their happy life exactly as it is one more time.

An argument could be made that this is a beautiful story of new life, but that is only half of it. We first have to ask, “Is the rebirth into a second life spoken of in Cats the same kind that Christians look forward to?” I think not. It’s implied that the second life is one that will happen again on earth. Old Deuteronomy herself is said to have lived ninety-nine lives. It is also implied that the chosen cat will have a chance to live the best part of their life again. If anything, this resembles Buddhism more than Christianity.

Not to mention only one deserving cat gets this great gift. Yet the beauty of the gospel is that Christ died so the undeserving sinners of the world might live, not just one more life, but an eternal life of more happiness than we could ever dream of right now. Compared to such awesomeness, the gift offered in Cats is an ugly thing.

Only Jesus can fulfill the promise of freedom and joy

After the movie was over, I got in my car and turned on one of my favorite worship songs, “Bright As The Sun,” by Hillsong Worship. I was struck by the similarity in the language to the movie I’d just watched and the stark contrast of the messages:

“Now mine is the life You raised, yours the glory that took down that grave. Bright as the sun almighty in love, God forever Your Kingdom come. My heart burns wild in my chest in awe of Your heart in all that You are. Let Your praise run wild on my breath.”

Not only was the idea of new life and the rising sun mirrored, yet warped, in “Memory,” but my thoughts snagged even more on the idea of wildness. In the new song written by Andrew Lloyd Webber for the film, “Beautiful Ghosts,” Victoria says, “But I feel so alive with these phantoms of night. And I know that this life isn’t safe but it’s wild and it’s free.” For our society, wildness and freedom mean unbound by rules, tradition, and free to act outside of any moral norm. That is the kind of freedom often exhibited by these cats.

But for the Christian, “wild” implies an all-consuming passion and zeal for the Lord that desires to be set free from our mouths. That kind of freedom is loosed from the bondage of our depravity—our sin nature. Unlike society that idolizes freedom from God, the Christian prioritizes freedom to love and worship God apart from sin. It is wild insofar as the message of the gospel runs rampant from our lips. Not only that, but C. S. Lewis goes to far as to call Aslan wild: “He’s wild, you know. Not like a tame lion.”

So is there anything good in Cats? Absolutely! Even if the story wrongly elevates idols such as the past (Grizabella, Gus, etc.) and present (Jennyanydots, Bustopher Jones, etc.), it also shows moments of real beauty within the darkness—and it’s not just because the cast are all such great dancers. Victoria’s openness and loving attitude toward all the cats eventually endears her to lowly Grizabella. The affection during this reconciliation is powerful and moving in all the right ways. If only I could say more on this without giving away spoilers!

Are you planning to see Cats? I would love to hear your thoughts on the message, so drop a comment below!

For those of you who routinely bask in joy on Christmas and other family-centered holidays, I’m sincerely glad for you. Perhaps you may not have the means to buy all the presents you like, but you are able to buy some. Likely, you have the day off and can actually be at home, because working at a convenience store or nursing home or being thousands of miles away from home for work (perhaps because of military duty, like I’ve experienced) are generally not positive experiences. To enjoy yourself as people normally do, you also have enough cash for a decent meal and your family in addition enjoys one another’s company–because in some families getting everyone together only increases tensions and is more unpleasant that joyous. If your Christmas really has been nothing but joy for as long as you can remember, this post is not really for you, though you probably know someone who is in the situation this article describes.

But I think a great many people find disappointment in holidays, at least at times. I think a particularly common form of holiday disappointment will be felt today, the day after Christmas, because many people had high expectations for Christmas and may have worked hard to provide for those expectations as in working in a kitchen to prepare food or were self-sacrificially gift-giving or something else along those lines, only to find the actual day fell short of all the hopes and efforts that had been invested in it.

But again, that post-frenetic-activity-but-was-it-really-worth-it-holiday-heaviness is by no means the only kind. Perhaps a precious loved one was in the hospital on Christmas. Perhaps there even was a serious accident on the holiday, or today. Or perhaps unkind, unloving, and unappreciative people have soured what otherwise would have been good. Among other potential issues.

I remember a particular time when I was overseas during a holiday–in this particular case the holiday was actually Thanksgiving and I happened to be in Afghanistan–and I attempted to make a video call home to see and talk to my family. The Internet connection was terrible, so poor that the call never really functioned. It barely connected, glitched the entire two minutes or so I was connected, and I couldn’t really see anyone or talk the way I’d wanted to. Eventually the call cut off and I couldn’t initiate it again, though I tried, in spite of how badly as it had functioned in the first place, leaving me alone and unsatisfied. So something as basic as losing an Internet connection was a crushing event for me. So I know these things happen to other people too: You want or expect something good to happen, you need it to happen and when it doesn’t–or when something horrible happens instead–you walk away more emotionally hurt than if you’d never hoped for anything good at all.

This can be especially crushing if you used to have holiday times of warm feelings, surrounded by family and friends, but have them no longer for whatever reason. Nothing makes the present seem so bitter as when the past was clearly better (though at times the past seems better in memory that it actually was).

Someone might respond to this kind of problem by lowering all expectations. And perhaps in some situations that’s realistic–because maybe you shouldn’t expect people who act one way year after year over Christmas to act any differently than how they always act. But I don’t think that’s a good solution to the problem of holiday disappointment, generally speaking.

Doesn’t part of the actual joy of any holiday, or any future event even that turns out well, lie in the anticipation of it happening? As in, chocolate tastes good, but tastes better if you’ve been longing for it before you get any, assuming receiving what you’ve longed for meets the expectation of your desire. So lowering all expectations for joy at all times, maybe even to the point of feeling something is inherently wrong with joy, as would an ancient Stoic like Marcus Aurelius or the fictional Mr. Spock, isn’t the answer. Why should we reduce the possibility of joy permanently because of problems that are temporary?

And with my last statement I find I’ve wandered into a rhetorical minefield of potential issues. Some Christians believe joy isn’t important–God cares about our holiness, therefore if we feel bad we shouldn’t care, we need to “suck it up and drive on” (as we say in the US Army). Others think joy is all-important and therefore (even if they usually don’t say it directly) if you are not experiencing joy right now then you are therefore somehow disobedient to God. I mentioned last week how Satan can attack our emotions, which may lead someone to think I meant (as some Christians actually say) that all our negative emotions are of the Devil, therefore we should never experience them if we are following God as we should. Though that’s not what I meant.

I unfortunately have to gloss over these issues compared to the time and attention they deserve due to the limitations of the size of this post, but while the Scripture tells us to take our worries to God as part of a spiritual life of trusting God that relies on him continually, that doesn’t mean we will never experience sadness or disappointment. How can we be commanded to bring petitions to God, as is said in Philippians 4:6, if we don’t have anything to be concerned about to ask about in the first place? Then, after bringing those concerns to God, we can experience peace in faith and confidence in the Almighty (Philippians 4:7), which will allow us to deliberately put our focus on positive things rather than negative (Phil 4:8-9).

Philippians 4, a great passage about contentment, then goes into an explanation of a situation someone reading through the Bible for the first time may not entirely understand. But in essence, Paul expresses gratitude to the Philippian church for them donating money to meet Paul’s basic needs. But in so doing, he makes an important statement that he (Paul) has learned to be content no matter what is going on (in immediate context, whether they gave or not), whether he has nothing or has much (Phil 4:11-12) because he (Paul–or us, too) “can do all things through Christ.” But this is not a statement that having nothing is exactly the same emotionally as having much!

If that were true, if having nothing and being at the point of starvation and other kinds of suffering were meaningless (2 Corinthians 11:24-29 and other passages reveals that real suffering is where Paul was, many times), why would Paul thank the Philippians for finally sending money? If Paul (or us) had nothing in circumstances that would naturally cause a person to be anxious, why would Peter tell us (I Peter 5:7) to cast our “cares” or problems on the Lord? Why would Paul tell us to pray about our issues in Philippians 4:6 and say all the rest through verse 13, if what he said earlier in verse 4 about rejoicing in the Lord were something we are really able to do at all times, one hundred percent, without any consideration of what he said after that?

Because if joy in the Lord were an absolute gift of the Holy Spirit, then we would be able to have it gushing out of us at all times, no matter what is happening (and would not have to be commanded to seek to rejoice for that matter). We then would have nothing to bother us that we would need to pray about, no rough circumstances we’d need to lean on the power of Christ to enable us to survive. Paul would not have praised the Philippians for “sharing in my distress” (4:14) if Paul had never felt any distress or concern in the first place and Peter would not tell us to “cast cares” on the Lord because we’d never feel any cares or worries at all.

Furthermore, the Bible would never tell us to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15) if we are never, not for one instant, supposed to feel negative emotions or sadness. That’s why having “peace that passes all understanding” (Phil 4:7) is not quite the same thing as having joy, and while we are commanded to seek the joy of the Lord (Phil 4:4) and told such joy is a gift of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22), all we have to do is really read what the Bible says about what the apostles went through (e.g. Phil 4:14) and how they felt about it to understand that joy is not a continuous experience for a Christian and cannot be if we are to be empathetic to others (again, Romans 12:15). Having peace, yes. Finding the ability through Christ to face the worst life may bring, yes. Always being joyous, no.

So if your holidays have been less than stellar, don’t add to your sense of hardship by concluding that since things have gone wrong for you over Christmas and you feel bad about it, that clearly means you are somehow a terrible Christian. Don’t feel that having worries or concerns or heartaches itself is a sign there’s something wrong with you (by the way, I believe this is something the Devil would like to tell you). No, recognize having worries and concerns is normal–but don’t wallow in them. Take them to the Lord. Keep taking them to the Lord, because they will keep coming up at various times. Find the peace of trusting God to answer your prayers, even if you can’t imagine how. Find the joy of the Lord in being close to him, relying on him, no matter what people will do.

Be ready for God to answer your prayers, even if you don’t know when, like a holiday coming but you’ve lost the calendar–you know the Lord’s answer is coming, eventually, so you trust him in anticipation of him coming, like a normal, healthy kid waiting for Christmas. Don’t give up on the possibility of future joy by turning stoic, but don’t be broken by a lack of joy right now, either. Trust God to care for you–take your worries to him in prayer, continually, often, in faith. Rejoice when the answers come–as Paul rejoiced when receiving help from the church at Philippi.

And remember that you are not alone. You are not the only person to feel disappointment this time of the year. I’ve felt it too, and others have as well.

If you are Christ’s, much better things are coming for you in your future, for certain, eventually. When, I don’t know, but if at no prior point, for certain when you see the Lord in person. Though I think if you pray in faith and seek God’s joy, you will feel joy much sooner than that. And your experience of joy won’t be uncommon. Even though feeling tragedy and loss is normal and real and human, the normal Christian life means taking those worries to God and trusting he will take care of you. Eventually. For certain.

I hope my look at the potential lack of Christmas joy hasn’t discouraged anyone. But for readers of this post, what are some of your favorite passages of the Bible you turn to when you feel down? Or when things have gone badly? Any other thoughts?

Several of my friends have sent us Christmas cards. I love getting every single one of them.

Similarly, I love how many people have the time and resources for beautiful backyards: the kind with perfect grass, a fenced garden, plenty of room for pets, and a fully loaded swimming pool with separate hot tub and artificial rock wall for an ultimate summertime getaway. (Complete with water slide. Clink.)

In either case, folks: I can’t do that myself.

But I fight the sin of covetousness. I want to be grateful for those who have these gifts–grateful that they exist.

Plus, if you haven’t noticed, Christmas cards have gotten better. They’re less cheesy.

Most of the time it’s just a photo of my friend’s smiling family. Along with seasonal and Christlike wishes for the recipient’s best. Sometimes a family update letter is enclosed. And the letter tends to include rejoicing for blessings and lament for trials and sufferings in the previous year.

C. S. Lewis hated secular, sentimental ‘Exmas cards’

(Image from rawpixel.com / New York Public Library)

This model of Christmas card is apparently an improvement over the saccharine, sentimental Christmas cards of yore.

Which, it seems, are exactly the sorts of cards that C. S. Lewis made it very clear he despises with all his being.

You won’t of course find an anti-card rhapsody in Lewis’s fantasy books or apologetics works. Instead, we find this scathing takedown in a Lewis collection called God in the Dock: Essays on Theology and Ethics, edited by Walter Hooper.

In Lewis’s satirical essay “Xmas and Christmas,” his logic isn’t very deep. But his passionate conviction is.

Lewis describes a strange land oh-so-cleverly called Niatirb, whose residents “use the following customs”:

In the middle of winter when fogs and rains most abound they have a great festival which they call Exmas, and for fifty days they prepare for it in the fashion I shall describe.

First of all, every citizen is obliged to send to each of his friends and relations a square piece of hard paper stamped with a picture, which in their speech is called an Exmas-card. But the pictures represent birds sitting on branches, or trees with a dark green prickly leaf, or else men in such garments as the Niatirbians believe that their ancestors wore two hundred years ago riding in coaches such as their ancestors used, or houses with snow on their roofs.

And the Niatirbians are unwilling to say what these pictures have to do with the festival, guarding (as I suppose) some sacred mystery.

And because all men must send these cards the market-place is filled with the crowd of those buying them, so that there is great labour and weariness.

But having bought as many as they suppose to be sufficient, they return to their houses and find there the like cards which others have sent to them. And when they find cards from any to whom they also have sent cards, they throw them away and give thanks to the gods and this labour at least is over for another year. But when they find cards from any to whom they have not sent, then they beat their breasts and wail and utter curses against the sender; and, having sufficiently lamented their misfortune, they put on their boots again and go out into the god and rain and buy a card for him also.

And let this account suffice about Exmas-cards.¹

And they buy as gifts for one another such things as no man ever bought for himself.

—C. S. Lewis

Lewis: ‘For the sellers … put forth all kinds of trumpery’

This holiday season, find you Lewis’s complete essay “Xmas and Christmas.”

Because Lewis in full satire-Scrooge mode goes on to share his gentle opinions about more Exmas traditions:

• Gift-giving

And the sellers of gifts no less than the purchasers become pale and weary, because of the crowds and the fog, so that any man who came into a Niatirbian city at this season would think some great public calamity had fallen on Niatirb. This fifty days of preparation is called in their barbarian speech the Exmas Rush.

—C. S. Lewis

• Father Christmas cosplay
• The Exmas Rush
• Overeating
• Overdrinking
• Secular holiday traditions versus sacred traditions

Lewis concludes, “It is not likely that men, even being barbarians, should suffer so many and great things in honour of a god they do not believe in.”

Ouch.

However, Lewis also had many a friendlier take on Christmas. For this, we need only recall the arrival of this man into a far more sensible land:

To all our readers at Speculative Faith, especially those to whom I didn’t send an Exmas-card (i.e., all of you):

“A Merry Christmas! Long live the true King!”

After a flu-spawned delay of a few days,¹ Lorehaven magazine’s winter 2019 issue is ready for reading.

Head over to Lorehaven.com, free-subscribe if you haven’t already, and download the entire issue.

Here’s what you’ll get.

Captain’s Log

E. Stephen Burnett

This year I’m resolving to rest better, even among all this fantastic work.

The End of the Magi, Patrick W. Carr

Book Reviews

The Lorehaven review team reviews eleven Christian-made fantastic novels.

Sponsored Review

• Skinshifter, Alycia Christine

Following the Star

Patrick W. Carr sets his sights on Bethlehem and beyond.

Featured Review: The End of the Magi

Lorehaven review team

For these wise but motley men, it’s no easy feat to follow the star.

You’re A Character in God’s Ultimate Story

Paeter Frandsen

Let’s recap how the Author becomes the Hero to save his enemies.

How Do We Discern Good and Bad ‘Magic’?

Marian Jacobs

Scripture shows us the true source of magic’s corruption, and the cure.

Lest we seem a veritable powerhouse of creativity, here’s a clip from my captain’s log:

It takes one talented crew to keep a small magazine running.

And it takes just one terrible flu to stop the production cold.

Target: the editor. Timeline: just a week before this issue’s original press date.

No magic memories, radioactive-nosed reindeer, or any other Christmas corniness would serve up a Holiday Miracle to get me out of this mess.

In Christ, however, it wasn’t a mess. Not really.

Too often I try to guess the Author’s goals for me. But I’m likely right to discern that God knew only a flu would force me to stop and rest at this time of year.

But God! You’re being unfair. The magazine! the Lorehaven Gift Guide! the podcast! the book! the—

“Hush, son,” he may have been saying, “or it’s a sinus infection next.”

(I got that, too.)

In such moments, I face the same lesson: that I don’t “deserve” some life without delay and with endless creative productivity. All I have is what God has given me.

And all those creative ideas?

They’re to our Creator’s credit, and thus will also arrive only in his timing.

Lorehaven’s 2020 vision

Speaking of which, I also tease the (in retrospect, seemingly inevitable) Lorehaven podcast that we’ll launch early next year:

My friend Zackary Russell and I have begun recording episodes. Watch our website for more information. For now I can say that we’re focusing on the fantastical truth we love to explore as well as the books we review.

The Pop Culture Parent releases May 4, 2020 from New Growth Press! Now available for preorder at Amazon.

And more:

Third, new issues will feature some changes. We’ve already made improvements to covers and layout. In 2020, the cover stories themselves may change a little …

Fourth, next year, my first book arrives. It’s not a novel. It’s a nonfiction work, with my friends and co-authors Ted Turnau and Jared Moore. On May 4, 2020, you will finally get to read The Pop Culture Parent: Helping Kids Engage Their World for Christ.

That’s exciting. And challenging.

But whether through Lorehaven magazine, this new book, or my fiction projects, my mission remains this: to help all Christ’s people glorify him through fantastic stories.

And to do more resting this year. After all, that’s what stories do—help us rest.

With that, I’m off for a rest. Ye shall likely not see me until next year. (Unless I’m feeling productive on Christmas Eve day and/or have something to say about poor J. K. Rowling that I haven’t already said here.) But I already have a feeling that 2020 will be an even more epic year for Christian fantastical fiction than 2019 has been. . . .

I hoped to wrap of this series on “The Deal With the Devil” this week so I’d be clear to talk about Christmas and other things next week. But an interaction with a fellow Christian speculative fiction writer on Facebook (who told me she is reading this series) made it clear that there was something important I had left out of last week’s post, which I need to correct before moving on. Which is, the “fiery darts” or “flaming arrows” of attacks from Satan in Ephesians 6 don’t only refer to doubts about doctrinal beliefs, which I emphasized, but also on personal doubts and emotions, which I need to say more about. (Which means I will have to delay until after next week to finish up the series.)

Satan’s role in attacking Christians is primarily about tempting us to sin and getting us to believe false things about God and his word, though the attacks are not limited to those things, as I discussed in the post What Does the Devil Want?. My former post used what the Bible teaches in the Epistles to show what Satan’s objectives in spiritual warfare happen to be. The article listed temptation and false doctrine as top priorities, but also mentioned Satan in general works to hinder Christian ministries by a variety of means. Which also applies to hindering Christian individuals.

The “fiery” attacks of the Devil in Ephesians 6:16 are best faced with faith according to that same passage. That, coupled with my knowledge that (based on Scripture) Satan works to get people to believe false things, that’s what led me to emphasize that the attacks of the Devil include what we might call doctrinal or theological doubts. Questions like: “Does God really exist?” or “Is the Bible actually true?” or “Will there really be life after death?” or “Is belief in Jesus actually necessary for salvation?”

While attacks of doubt often are concerning such “theological” matters, Satan’s attacks of doubt are not limited to theological issues. Questions that enter our mind from the Enemy to hinder our effectiveness for Christ can also include personal doubts. Such as: “Does God really love me?” or “Will my life ever amount to anything?” or “Will I ever be able to stop making mistakes?” In a way, these are also theological doubts because they relate the doctrines of who God is as a loving Creator (the fancy term for the theology that talks about God is “Theology Proper”) and God’s design and purposes for human beings (which is included in the theological version of “Anthropology”). But they have a different flavor when personally applied. They don’t seem to be about grand thoughts like church doctrines or the nature of God–such attacks are personal and include elements that impact our emotions.

For example, the question, “Does God really love me?” is one I personally struggled with. I had no trouble believing God loves people in general or that God loves the world, but I used to doubt that God loves me, personally. And the irony of it was that while I was able to mentally acknowledge that since God loves the world and I am part of the world, therefore he must love me, I didn’t feel like I was loved. The mental acknowledgment of theology wasn’t enough for me on that issue. I needed something else to fully persuade me, because for a while, I still felt unloved, no matter what I thought about it.

Note that my parents divorced when I was nine and my earthly father was often absent from my life after that–I mean “absent” as in I didn’t even know where he lived at times or if he was alive or dead. And I think people generally tend to relate their feelings about their Heavenly Father to the father they know on Earth. My father was (and is) a mechanically ingenious man, so it’s no surprise I had no trouble conceiving of God as an ingenious Creator by imagining a greater version of my earthly father, a master designer whose brilliance far surpasses what human beings are capable of. But it was harder for me to think of God as loving.

Again, I had no trouble mentally accepting that God loves every person so he must love me. But I didn’t feel that was true, in part due to circumstances.  I think my experience is generally true for many people in that our backgrounds and circumstances that affect us emotionally and personally often are affected by actions human beings in our lives take–in the case of my father, him abandoning his family. Of course, it would be naive after reading what the Bible says about Satan to suggest that the Devil and his angels had nothing to do with the choices my father made. That’s because the spiritual enemy of Christians is real and works to increase the amount of sin human beings engage in at all times and in all places. Including with my father.

But it would on the other hand be completely false to suggest that since my father was most likely tempted to sin by agents of the Devil, therefore he’s not responsible for what he did. The Bible in fact teaches the opposite, that individual human beings are responsible for the actions they take, even though we know that temptation and leading people into sin is an action that the Devil isn’t just doing every now and then. Satan in fact is providing temptation on something close to a continual basis–but human beings are still responsible for our actions, even if we are tempted and led astray (re: God’s response to human sin in Eden after temptation, Genesis chapter 3).

So it’s more accurate to say Satan exploits circumstances of our lives to feed us personal doubts, rather than to say Satan causes the circumstances that impact our emotions. The Devil’s custom-built personal attack on me was based on knowledge of what my family situation was, rather than having caused my family situation–though Satan has plenty of reason in the type of war he’s fighting to work to reduce as much as he can the number of people exposed to good, loving fathers. Yes, Satan is trying to destroy families and other loving relationships. Still, my father had responsibility for his choices, so in the end he’s the one who decided to leave–the Devil may have prodded, but the Devil didn’t make him do it.

What was the point of the attack on me I’m referring to? Why would a demon bother to whisper in my ear (either metaphorically or not-so-metaphorically), “God will never love you”? Because of course if I came to believe that, I would pray less (under “yes, I know God can answer my prayers, but why would he”), I would also resist sin less (under “what’s the use of trying”), I would share the gospel with others less, and I would generally give up and not even try to follow God.

Eventually, after realizing doubting that God loved me personally was an issue in my life, I started to pray about the situation. I earnestly told God what was bothering me and explained my doubt in prayer (even though I realized God already knew about it). And I prayed about it for a while, because faith keeps trusting that God will give the answer to prayer, sooner or later, one way or another. And, after several years, I started to notice all the blessings in my life, all the good things God had given me–and I specifically also realized that God had given me these blessings because he loves me. Personally.

So God resolved the issue. But note I had to recognize it first and pray. And it took several years of off-and-on prayer before I received the answer.

There’s one more thing I need to say about my personal issue before moving on–it was especially difficult for me to feel God loved me after committing some sort of sin. And of course, feeling unloved was manipulated in me (by you-know-who) to keep me wallowing in sin at times. Because if God doesn’t love me, there’s still a kind of pleasure to be obtained in sin itself. I might as well say that the sin I struggled with most was pornography–which is very common for many men, but men are generally ashamed to admit it publicly.  Please don’t misunderstand that my public admission isn’t me saying I think porn is no big deal–on the contrary, I think it is a big deal. Not something I have conquered by my will–on the contrary, I’m weak-willed about that and need to rely on God constantly–but I am no longer a helpless pawn to the schemes of the Devil (Eph 6:11), because of what God has done in my life.

So how does my personal example tie into the armor of God? My personal doubt, which affected me emotionally more than logically, affected my relationship with God–it made it easier to sin. It was a sore spot in my person the Devil could exploit. How did the armor of God help me change my response?

Understanding the truth of the word of God was key to me realizing I had a problem at all. If I hadn’t realized the contradiction between the objective truth of how God loves the world versus how I felt about that, I wouldn’t have sought God’s help in prayer.

Righteousness, as in being zealous not to sin, would have helped me resist letting sin drag me through the mud in the first place and would have made my personal doubts more distant. It certainly helps me now when I’m wise enough to apply it.

Preparation (of the gospel of peace), not that it’s ever an unimportant thing, is more important to me now that I have the issue I’m mentioning resolved, because it allows me to move forward and tell others. It’s contributing to the article I’m writing at this moment, in fact.

Faith though was very important, key to the personal victory I experienced–but not because I was able to summon enough faith to resolve my issue instantaneously and know everything must be fine because the Bible says so. Perhaps I should have been able that, but I couldn’t trust enough in what I mentally knew was true to feel it. But faith guided the decision to tell God exactly how I felt and ask him to provide the answer. Faith kept praying while waiting for the answer and faith recognized the answer when I received it–letting me see that God’s blessings demonstrated that God does love me.

The word of God of course fed into the entire process, as mentioned several times already. And prayer was key to getting the emotional resolution I needed.

The armor of God in action. Image credit: lifehopeandtruth.com

For those reading this who are of the “show me the Scripture” mentality (I commend your determination to stick to the Bible, by the way), let’s look at I Peter 5:7 (NKJV): “casting all your care upon Him, because He cares for you.” That “casting” of cares happens through prayer and the “cares” means “things that bother you” which includes most especially emotional issues. So, there it is, in Scripture–what I did with my emotional issue was exactly what I should have done, according to the Bible. Take it to God.

Let’s check out the immediate context of I Peter 5:7 while we’re there. Verse six says, “Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time,” i.e. what I said in last week’s post is true that the primary way to win the spiritual war is to live for God rather than think about defeating Satan, what I called “the tightrope walker’s irony.” Oh, and verse eight has that quote about being vigilant about the Devil, who seeks whom he may destroy. So…”casting your cares” is part of spiritual warfare, because submitting to God and bringing your problems (including emotional) to him are things you need to have ready for prior to adopting the mentality that prepares you to face the Devil. First, get yourself straight with God, then you’ll be ready to face the Devil.

Note my example of a personal doubt about God loving me is one type of emotional issue that Satan can use, one that relates back to a specific doubt. But there are other types of emotional manipulation in the Devil’s toolbox. He might push your buttons to make you feel discouraged, or hopeless, or feel like you can’t go on. Like me, you should take those issues to God in prayer through faith and continue to do so, trusting God will help you, which is what “the shield of faith” is talking about.

Let me say something about counselling prior to finishing up this post--there is absolutely nothing wrong with seeking the help of another human being in a time of personal crisis and people trained to offer counselling can be very helpful (but even untrained people can help–scientific studies show that). But for a believer, it’s really important to have a strong relationship with God and your human counselor, if you seek one, should reinforce that idea rather than run contrary to it. It is a lie, although one that’s common enough nowadays, that God essentially has nothing to offer you in terms of your emotional well-being, also called at times your “mental health.”

Yes, certain people do have issues that are physical, but in fact chemicals to help with moods are in general over-prescribed and often not much more effective than placebos. So when I tell a believer that emotional issues can relate to spiritual attack and they need to seek God’s help through prayer and putting on the armor of God, I’m not being irresponsible, as some mental health professionals might think.

I realize I’m just one data point, but I have no doubt that God has changed my life and altered my emotional state for the better. Without saying that if you having emotional struggles you must have something wrong with your relationship with God–perhaps your relationship is great and I have no way to know for the person reading this–I have no hesitation in saying that some personal doubts have spiritual roots. And some emotional issues, even ones we can point to causes for, like issues with a father, are exploited by our spiritual Enemy to make you feel worse than you otherwise would and are best answered by putting on the armor of God–i.e. making these attributes part of your life: truth, righteousness, preparation, and faith, all based upon salvation, informed by the word of God and supported by prayer.

So, readers of this post, what are your thoughts on doubts the Devil casts at you of a personal nature? And about emotional attacks? Did me mentioning how faith helped me over a period of time seem helpful to you? Other thoughts?