He's a sneaky slippery snake but I've eaten out of the palms of his freshly manicured claws...and so have you. Maybe you haven't...OOH! Right there...he just did it! Liar! Liar! Putting one thought into my brain. One thought of insecurity. One thought that makes me feel unloved, isolated, silly for sharing. One thought that leads to another thought that leads to another...and all of a sudden, I forget I was bought with a price. The price of the cross of Jesus Christ. I forget to take my thoughts captive and then my thought life becomes my reality and that reality, the one founded in lies, well, that reality bites!
Here's how Satan gets me :
He sneaks in masked as your BFF (best friend forever. Forever ever? Forever ever!). I'm not talking about your real-life BFF. Not your girlfriend with skin. I'm talking about that place you go in your head because, if you're honest, you're afraid that your BFF may not be able to handle the darkness/insecurity/depravity within you. She might not love you anymore. She might judge you. (Another LIE. Godly women sharpen you! They make you better! Get you one!).
Back to Satan...
At first he's just listening. Listening to you whine (and maybe some of you wHine). Whine about your husband and the list of honey-do's you're holding on to from your first week of marriage. (Every honey-do list is different. It ain't all "Wash the dishes. Help with the laundry". That actually comes innate in some men. Some honey-do's are "Hug me. Look at me. Love me.") And then after Satan listens to you grumble for a while, he validates you with a lie, "Yes, guuuurrrl. You remind that "man" where he gets his bread buttered. He's not worth this trouble. There's nothing left to fight for in this marriage. You fell out of love with each other ages ago. You've given your best years and your beach body up for his blankedy blank blank blank." (Satan is a cussing scum bag.) But his lie grows. And so does your distance between you and your husband. So now you're ready to pack his bags or your bags and do some walking with your cute new toesies, except that you haven't even gotten to the point in your pedi where your freshly-shaven legs are physically assaulted with the "refreshing" and flesh-tearing-sea-salt-scrub.
So you sit.
And think.
And you downward spiral...
You now know, after consulting with the "father of lies", that your marriage is a sham. Like, for sure. You totally get Taylor now. I mean, you're never EVER EVER getting back together!
Your marriage is a failure.
Probably because of how much you suck. I mean, you really do. You really are a failure. You gave up your dreams and your hopes and for what? A new SUV and a boat? You have no purpose. You're just a trophy wife. And not even a good trophy anymore. You're a dusty bowling trophy in your Grandma's knick-knack room. (Reminder: schedule botox this week.) Now you check FaceBook. Oh great, the Mitchells just posted pictures of their weekend at the family lake house. They look so happy. Why can't we be happy like the Mitchells. Maybe we should buy a lake house. Yes, we should. No, wait, we're never ever ever getting back together, so a joint lake house seems stupid. OOH! We should have another baby! We really got along during the fifteen minutes it took to make the other two. Ooh, what time is it? 3:02. Oh good, I've got a few minutes before they realize I'm late picking them up from school. UGH! What kind of mother says that? The kind behind bars telling her scary story on tonight's LifeTime t.v. movie. Your children are better off if CPS intervenes right this minute. All you're going to instill in them is doubt, insecurity and possibly some sort of confused sexual identity that will lead to an expensive therapy bill that they'll probably send to you to pay b/c you failed them so miserably in their spoiled lavish lifestyle that they can't hold a job but they call themselves "Social Media Experts" because they have a Twitter account, FaceBook account, email account...but NO CHECKING ACCOUNT! But they only got to this place in life because you were trying to buy them a lifestyle to cover up what a failure you are as a wife and mother.
Failure. Epic failure.
You look up, an hour and a half has slipped by since you first sat down.
You pick yourself up out of the chair, almost drunk off the low. So this is how shawty got low (anyone getting these musical lyric jokes?).
You walk to the check-out counter, slide your card (praying it isn't declined) and you smile, "Thank you! I feel so great!"
But you don't.
Because you had a mani/pedi with Satan. And you bought Every. Single. WORD. And then you elaborated on those 'words' and you turned them into sentences and paragraphs and you assigned those thoughts a value and now that value is your belief. A belief that you place higher than the WORD of God. Because now you're walking in the word...of Satan, the accuser. You're literally walking in it. Carrying it with you. You're going to take it with you to pick up your kids from school. You're going to take it home with you to greet your husband with a "hey" and a grunt instead of a hug and a "hi. how was your day?" You're going to view yourself through the lenses of a liar.
And all cuz you didn't have a beat down on the first ugly, critical thought that entered your brain.
Armor up, ladies (Ephesians 6:10-18). Take captive every thought. Don't let one slip through. Or your marriage is doomed and your kids are doomed and your purpose is doomed. Satan is prowling around looking for someone to DEVOUR. He wants to eat you alive. Does that sound like someone you want to have a mani/pedi with? I think not. Sounds like someone I want to throat-punch. Throat-punch with the true Word of God.
Throw some punches at the enemy today (reminder: the enemy is NOT your husband or your children).
Keep Going.
"We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ."
2 Corinthians 10:5 (NIV)
Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.
1 Peter 5:8 (NIV)
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