The first time I used a compass, I picked it up and watched the needle spin away from the “N” and thought it was broken. Little did I realize that I needed some instruction before I understood how to use it.
But even knowing how to use a compass won’t help me find my way if I introduce a new north. If I put a magnet near the tool, it changes how I perceive the direction, because the needle no longer points towards the earth’s north pole.
Some days feel like that. Like my needle is spinning and I can’t quite locate North. The last month has definitely felt that way. And the disorientation isn’t just from being busy, although that’s part of it. I’ve felt off-kilter, as if someone is doing their best to rattle me. Every opportunity he gets, the enemy whispers those lies about any number of things. Parenting. Writing. My perpetual struggle with maintaining order in my life. The doubt is fed with all the perceived failings I stack up against myself every day.
At the end of the day, I see the insecurity for what it is—a lie trying to change my direction and find a new north.
I’ve often heard that we’re attacked the most when we’re standing firm for the faith. That when we dig in our heels and determine to work for the Kingdom, Satan does his best to topple us.
I don’t journal as regularly as I used to, but if I’d been doing so lately, I wonder what types of things the enemy would find to scoff at. What small victories can I count in the pages? Or—a more frightening thought—are there only empty pages? Has my work amounted to nothing, and the affront is merely to help me stay the course towards emptiness?
My faith is not built on my works. Nothing but grace can pay the price for my salvation. But simply standing by when there’s a war waging around me—that’s an insult to the One who made the sacrifice for my ransom.
In the midst of the wilderness, I need a guide to lead me. Like the pillar of fire and smoke that went before the children of Israel, I must look to the Lord for my steps each day.
If I’m looking to anything other than God for direction, I’m always going to end up disappointed. Kids will frustrate me. My husband will fail to communicate. Friends will let me down. Even the job I love will turn out less lustrous some days than others. But in spite of the difficulties of life, I must stand firm for truth and stay the course. The good fight awaits, and I must press on into the darkness.