Strongholds are fortresses, literally—in Greek and in English, they are
sturdy structures meant to withstand. Meant to withstand military-type forces. Get that?
They’re meant to be resilient.
It would make sense then that if these strongholds were somehow destroyed or overcome that Satan would be waiting to rebuild atop the remaining foundation
with the weakened, but still pliable blocks of rubble. And his construction of choice?
A ferris wheel.
At the top of this ferris wheel he would have us believe
that we have conquered our idol. At its
peak we rest momentarily, maybe, or maybe not, close to God. It would be in his favor for us to think we
made it to the top without our Heavenly Father.
And as the ride declines subtly, as we’ve spent our time
high in the clouds seemingly having overcome our low, suddenly with each drop
we’re pulled back in. Like a magnet—like
the very law of gravity—our idol draws us back.
It’s the natural trajectory of a ferris wheel and quite so it is the
natural calling of our sinful flesh. The
movement is so subtle, so seemingly natural, you won’t know you’re back at
Ground Zero until you’re there.
And so we ride the ferris wheel—our idols
heart-specific. My ferris wheel may be
very different from yours. And chances
are we aren’t riding just one, but several.
(We’ll figure out those logistics another time.)
And it seems that God, if He were the Almighty Creator
and Savior of the Universe we believed Him to be—that He would once and for all
crush each of our idols, stealing us from the ride, and placing us beside Him
never to ride the wheel again. So why
does our ride continue?
Elijah,
wearied from running, prays for death, for release, in 1 Kings 19:4-8. But instead of him dying, Elijah is met by an
angel, who touches him and says, “Arise and eat.” If we read on, we witness God giving Elijah
not just one, but two meals. Could El
Shaddai not create a meal in which Elijah would have been fully satisfied
and able to continue on with his journey?
Sure He could have. But instead he
let Elijah become hungry once more.
When I am full, when I am satisfied, even by the hand of
God, and especially by the hand of God, this satisfaction leads me to somehow forget
that I was ever unsatisfied and, worse, to believe that I had the sole hand in
my satisfaction. As if God had nothing
to do with anything. Does this happen to
you? We become comfortable, successful,
loved, rested, and begin to believe that we
did it, and not God?
Thankfully, what Satan intends for evil, God will use for
good. And sometimes His best good for
our best good is letting us
remain in situations that create and feed a need for Him. Until we realize our need, we don’t need
God. And unfortunately, some of us need constant
re-realizing.
Do not be dismayed, dear hearts, by the constant rotating
of the ferris wheel. Expect
hardships. Expects idols to re-present
themselves. Expect struggles. But as our wheel turns full-tilt, know that
there beyond the bend is God, realigning us with every turn.
The angel spoke a second time, saying, “Arise and eat,
for the journey is too great for you.”
Our idols are our greatest struggles—and our greatest
struggles are met with a great need for an even greater God. Indeed, the journey is too great for us. But it is not too great for Him. See not the destruction of Satan, but
sanctification of God, and how with every turn we are brought closer to the
Father who has beaten and banished the enemy.
