By mid-afternoon, the ground thawed and the first snowfall lie in thin rows at the trails’s edge. I set out with a backpack and my Bible into the wilderness where out greatest enemy lives. My Lord and Savior met his tempter out here 2,000 years ago and won a victory where his predecessor, Adam, couldn’t. The spiritual battle is the same all this time later. The stakes are nothing less than eternity.
I am so familiar with these paths I could walk them with my eyes closed. While it might seem good to know the enemy’s lair, the tragedy is that I keep returning here to fight the same battle. No stronger than the last time I lost, boasting the same weaknesses and few strengths. My prayers lag and wane even though I am perfectly secluded and in a quiet place to send them Heavenward. I have no angels to nurse me back to health should I manage to survive.
Coming closer to the source of evil, I pass under the limbs of devilish trees. Crooked and thorn reminders grow just off the path. Finally, in a clearing, my heart starts to fill with His truth. My own strength is not what I need. My heart is a conduit to His. Enduring love, faithfulness, grace, courage, Whatever I need. Whatever I ask for. I can wield the same power of the one who defeated Satan before. When he steps out from the overgrowth to attack me, I will remind him of his losses. First, his defeat against my Lord, and now him losing the possession of my soul.