A few weeks ago my husband was gone on a weekend retreat. The days up to him leaving were slammed with busyness and Thursday night found us getting home late to frantically do laundry and pack before we fell into bed where we got into an enormous argument.
In the morning I dropped him off at work and apologized for being so angry, so stubborn, so full of missing him that I picked a fight, and he is lovely and wonderful and forgiving and said everything was fine and kissed me hard and said he’d be in touch during the weekend. We talked a few times, mostly through texts, and he told me how amazing the worship was and how real God was making Himself, how hugely His presence was showing up, that people were being undone and redone and it was hard and beautiful.
It was about then that I started sinking. I didn’t even know it until I was deep underwater, until I was drowning in despair I couldn’t name and darkness that terrified me and took any words of explanation right out of my mouth.
I struggle with anxiety, and depression has wrapped its oppressive, smothering arms around me in a vice grip more than once, but this wasn’t like either of those things. This was awareness in everything that I am that it did not matter. My husband didn’t care that I was alone and that I missed him and even if I could explain what was happening to me, he probably wouldn’t care about that either since I am so low on his priorities. This started as a bright, angry red burn on my soul and over the weekend it faded fast into a hard, scarred-over kind of bitterness, a barely-veiled rage that burst to the surface the night he came home, and I unloaded all sorts of awful things on him.
The next morning I had a headache and I was embarrassed and I was still so angry. We sat in bed and argued and in a stream of nonsense words I told him about the darkness, about the quiet acceptance of him not caring about me, about the awful whispers that sounded like my own while he was worshipping and seeing healing and restoration. And as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he murmured, “Of course that happened. If Satan couldn’t get me, what makes us think he wouldn’t come after you? I was out of reach and you were completely vulnerable.”
I’m wary of bringing up spiritual warfare for fear of sounding hokey or something, but it is so real in our lives as Christians. The devil is a hungry lion seeking to devour us (1 Peter 5:8), but we are offered a safe refuge in the Lord.
Your life, your happiness, your wellbeing—they are viciously opposed.
Is Christ waiting for you to run to Him for refuge? Why haven’t you already?
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Laura Hyers is a Tampa native, writer, and the newly wed wife of musician Caleb. She recently graduated from the University of South Florida with a bachelor’s degree in psychology with a concentration in literature and is currently teaching preschool. When not chasing a class of two-year-olds, Laura is writing and fighting fierce bouts of wanderlust. She loves music, reading, being near the ocean, and dreaming big over huge cups of coffee with her best friend Lakin. Laura blogs at http://littlebirdmarie.wordpress.com.
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2 thoughts on “Where to run when dark voices whisper”
Your transparency is a cup of cold water to a thirsty soul. I too write about spiritual warfare, and the battles that ensue are overwhelming at times. Yet my life-verse is, “Greater is He that is in us than he that is in the world.”
Press on sister….and please pray i do the same!
I am with you. I struggle with depression and the darkness, too. And it has totally caused me to believe in spiritual warfare. At the risk of sounding of crazy, I see it when I step away and look into my life from an outsider’s perspective. I see it when satan attacks my husband and me and our family and everything we stand for. Oh that God would increase my faith because sometimes I start to believe the lie that God doesn’t care about me at all.