The Battle Surrendered
The shadow creatures were back.
Again they pulled at me with their freezing hands. I cried out, “No!” and tried to stand, but they kept me firmly fixed to the ground. I looked around for Jesus, but the shadow creatures surrounded me and blocked my view of Him.
Suddenly, there was that same dizzying light. The same feeling of stupor. The same urge to give in.
No! I willed myself to fight back. I felt that I couldn’t fail again. I couldn’t let myself give in.
But the shadow creatures did not let me go, and I couldn’t tear myself from them. I wondered if I really wanted to. Was that prison so bad? Were the chains so heavy? And Jesus would rescue me as soon as I asked Him to. He was nice like that.
The intoxicating aura of false peace washed over me, irresistible. The creature leaned over and whispered, “Follow meee….”
I don’t even remember the first step this time. All I know is that I found myself starting awake, once again, in the prison tower with the vague recollection that I had chained myself there.
I had never thought I would fall into the same trap. If it had been horrible the first time I failed, it was double the horror now.
And then I thought of Him. I’d let Him down. And that was the greatest heartbreak of all. How could I have ever thought He would rescue me again? And even if He did, how could I face Him?
My shame overwhelmed me. My guilt was heavier than my shackles. I mourned and moaned in the tower for days. No one came, which only made my sorrow deepen, until it was so deep I felt like I could drown in it.
I was hungry, thirsty, tired, and cold. It was the closest to death I had ever been.
Finally, just when I thought I would burst from the pain, I did the only thing left to be done. I cried out for help.
“God,” I whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please… help me. I’ll die without You.”
I cried myself to sleep.