Actually, you always have to go off on the devil. That fool is ignorant, sneaky, unfaithful, uncaring, always looking for a way to sneak up deep inside your mind, your heart, your soul, your very essence and being to destroy anything beautiful that has gone on in your life, that is going on in your life, and that will go on in your life. It's just how he operates, and he's not changing. Ever.
So what does that mean? That means that we have to do the changing. We have to stand in the mess of a situation we are in, stand with a firm, straight back, a determined mind, a strong voice and declare what our life will be and what it is because we are kicking the devil fully to the curb.
But sometimes, we let situations and feelings collect as the days go on, and we don't acknowledge what the devil is doing. We don't let him know that we know he's up to no good. We don't tell that fool to keep on stepping because we are not the ones to be messed with. We just wallow, and before we know it, we are mere shadows of the people God ordained us to be.
If we're too filled with his hateful spirit, it can take a long time to figure out what he's up to and to have enough gumption to break his spell.
But when we do break it, when we are too fed up with not only him but also with how we're acting as a result, the sight of that breakthrough is a sight to see. A God-filled, makes you wanna holler, pass the plate, and speak in tongues sight to see.
I had one of those "sights" this morning.
I had decided today would start a three-day fast for me. I hadn't had one since the fall, and my body, mind, and spirit knew it, too. When I fast, my morning and evening consist of prayer time, and throughout the day, I make sure to pause whatever I'm doing and pray, meditate.
So this morning, while listening to Juanita Bynum's "Peace" and "Shake Me Again" (two songs you must have in the get that devil out of here collection), I began to talk to God. At first, my voice was quiet, tentative, as if paying reverence to my father. But then, I got real---as I always do. The anger, frustration, irritation, and everything else came out. Not toward him as if he was at fault. I just always feel the need to come to God with the good, bad, and ugly so that when I leave a prayer session, some of the dis/ease and manifestation of evil spirits are gone.
And then, without warning, my wrath quickly went to the devil. It shocked me how fast it happened and how angry I was, but as I declared riches and goodness over my life, my mother's life, my siblings' lives, my friends' lives, I attacked the devil for what I let him do to me. That's right, I said it. I confessed to letting him take control over me and have his way. I, just like everybody else, have a choice. I can choose to say, "Screw you, Devil" from the jump, or I can let him infect me and color my world, and allow me to think nothing will ever prosper in my life. So, I owned up to my unbelievably stupid choice and told that fool he had to get. Told him I was tired of feeling forsaken, of thinking ill of myself, of not waking every morning to realize the possibilities that were before me for the taking, of not seeing all of the blessings that God poured into my life on the daily.
I went off, and did not care about what I said or how I said it. God knew it had to come out, so I let it out, and I knew that God had my back. I felt him right behind me, the heat of his smile warming my back.
I have to laugh now because I went so off on the devil that just after I said, "Amen," I went fast, fast to sleep. Had been months since I slept that hard and that good.
And this doesn't mean it's over. Shoot, the devil picks with E-V-E-R-Y-B-O-D-Y, and he adores and has dreams that leave him panting about what he can especially do the children of God, so I know he has an extra dose of hate in him for me.
And that's cool. I get it. I understand it.
Just need to be vigilant, more vigilant at letting that thing realize who I truly belong to and that he can't have me.
Ever.
So what does that mean? That means that we have to do the changing. We have to stand in the mess of a situation we are in, stand with a firm, straight back, a determined mind, a strong voice and declare what our life will be and what it is because we are kicking the devil fully to the curb.
But sometimes, we let situations and feelings collect as the days go on, and we don't acknowledge what the devil is doing. We don't let him know that we know he's up to no good. We don't tell that fool to keep on stepping because we are not the ones to be messed with. We just wallow, and before we know it, we are mere shadows of the people God ordained us to be.
If we're too filled with his hateful spirit, it can take a long time to figure out what he's up to and to have enough gumption to break his spell.
But when we do break it, when we are too fed up with not only him but also with how we're acting as a result, the sight of that breakthrough is a sight to see. A God-filled, makes you wanna holler, pass the plate, and speak in tongues sight to see.
I had one of those "sights" this morning.
I had decided today would start a three-day fast for me. I hadn't had one since the fall, and my body, mind, and spirit knew it, too. When I fast, my morning and evening consist of prayer time, and throughout the day, I make sure to pause whatever I'm doing and pray, meditate.
So this morning, while listening to Juanita Bynum's "Peace" and "Shake Me Again" (two songs you must have in the get that devil out of here collection), I began to talk to God. At first, my voice was quiet, tentative, as if paying reverence to my father. But then, I got real---as I always do. The anger, frustration, irritation, and everything else came out. Not toward him as if he was at fault. I just always feel the need to come to God with the good, bad, and ugly so that when I leave a prayer session, some of the dis/ease and manifestation of evil spirits are gone.
And then, without warning, my wrath quickly went to the devil. It shocked me how fast it happened and how angry I was, but as I declared riches and goodness over my life, my mother's life, my siblings' lives, my friends' lives, I attacked the devil for what I let him do to me. That's right, I said it. I confessed to letting him take control over me and have his way. I, just like everybody else, have a choice. I can choose to say, "Screw you, Devil" from the jump, or I can let him infect me and color my world, and allow me to think nothing will ever prosper in my life. So, I owned up to my unbelievably stupid choice and told that fool he had to get. Told him I was tired of feeling forsaken, of thinking ill of myself, of not waking every morning to realize the possibilities that were before me for the taking, of not seeing all of the blessings that God poured into my life on the daily.
I went off, and did not care about what I said or how I said it. God knew it had to come out, so I let it out, and I knew that God had my back. I felt him right behind me, the heat of his smile warming my back.
I have to laugh now because I went so off on the devil that just after I said, "Amen," I went fast, fast to sleep. Had been months since I slept that hard and that good.
And this doesn't mean it's over. Shoot, the devil picks with E-V-E-R-Y-B-O-D-Y, and he adores and has dreams that leave him panting about what he can especially do the children of God, so I know he has an extra dose of hate in him for me.
And that's cool. I get it. I understand it.
Just need to be vigilant, more vigilant at letting that thing realize who I truly belong to and that he can't have me.
Ever.
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