“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” – Ephesians 6:12

The Reflection

Some days just carry an undeniable weight to them. Sometimes it’s the heavy, humid pressure in the air before a thunderstorm. Other times it’s the quiet, jarring ring of a phone after midnight, or a morning call from a friend carrying a burden too heavy to bear – wrestling with deep feelings of unworthiness.

When you’re on the outside looking in, it is often so much easier to recognize the spiritual warfare for what it is. You can see the enemy’s whispers trying to isolate and exhaust them. But when you are right in the thick of it yourself, the fog is much harder to navigate.

We’ve experienced this firsthand in our own home. There are days when the invisible pressure gets to be too much, and I find myself feeling a little snappy. Kevin will gently ask, “Did I do something wrong?” – a humbling reminder that I’m reacting to the air in the room, not anything he did. And wonderfully, the grace goes both ways.

On other days, the roles are reversed. One of the greatest mercies is that God rarely lets both of us crash on the exact same day. When one is fighting through the fog, the other is steady enough to hold the space.

That personal practice – learning to catch ourselves in our own marriage – is often what gives us the eyes to see it when a friend calls. We begin to realize that these moments aren’t just about random bad days or each other. There is a very real, very exhausting spiritual warfare happening all around us.

When the enemy wants to wear us down, he stirs up frayed nerves and anxiety so that, in our exhaustion, we turn those weapons on the people we love most. We get at each other’s throats instead of standing back-to-back against the storm.

Recognizing the warfare for what it is changes everything. It means lowering our weapons, refusing to take the bait, and extending patience instead of defensiveness – whether that’s across the kitchen island with our spouse, or over the phone with a hurting friend.

Ultimately, we were never meant to try and carry this heavy world alone. That is precisely why we are given each other – to lean on when our own strength runs out, and to remind one another of the truth when the lies get too loud. When the air feels thick around us, may we simply remember to offer a little more grace and walk through the storm hand in hand.

A Closing Prayer

Lord, the days can feel so heavy, and the noise of the world is exhausting. 

Thank You for the grace You weave into our homes, and for giving us partners and friends to steady us when the fog rolls in. 

Give us clear eyes to recognize the spiritual battles around us so we don’t turn on one another in our weariness. 

Guard our hearts against the lies of unworthiness, and teach us how to hold space for one another. 

Pour out Your peace like a calm after the storm.

In the precious name of Jesus.

Amen.