A Letter to the Enemy.

I woke up this morning in the middle-of-nowhere Africa to find out about the horrific bombings in Boston, MA, ironically, (or maybe not so ironically) the exact city my squad and I will be landing in at the end of July when coming back to America. This was the icing on the cake of a week or more of intense spiritual warfare going on around me and to be completely honest, I'm totally sick of it. I'm SO done with the enemy… his lies, his evil schemes and his constant effort to turn people away from God. And so today, instead of working on the tasks on my long list of things to do with my sparse internet, I used my time to write him a letter… Saying 'SO long, ya big coward.'

Satan,

This is Jaclyn… You know, that missionary girl in the middle of Africa that you've been blatantly lying to the last week and half. You remember, right? That time you whispered that I was a bad friend in the middle of a hard time… Or the tears you made me cry when feelings of worthlessness overtook my body. Maybe you can recall that time you told me I had to work to be good enough… Feeling hopeless and helpless that I would never reach people's standards. Or how about that feeling of loneliness you've tried over and over again to sink me into, sometimes succeeding and sometimes not. You're coming at me from every angle… Because it certainly wasn't God that wrote me a discouraged e-mail from America using words like "depressed" and "struggling" and "no sense of purpose." That wasn't my God… Because my God is life-giving and truth-speaking and those words were anything but. You must be really scared of the power that I and those around me possess… The power of the King of Kings. Because you're resorting to keeping my team and I in bed… Feeling tired, sick and heavy with darkness. You're coming in the night in bad dreams, when we're defenseless in our sleep, and you creep in the shadows as we go about our days. But let me tell you something… You've got nothing on us. Not on me, not my family, not on my friends or my team or my ministry partners here in Swaziland and certainly not on my God. You stay in the darkness because you're scared of the light and that's exactly where you belong… You can attack America, you can attack my team. You can attack me, or my family, but let me remind you of something. The war has already been won, by Jesus Christ, the Son of the LIVING God! And He is ALL around us. He is in the first-responders in Boston, who ran toward the bombings and not away. He's in the little girl I took a nap with yesterday in the sun, in her sweet spirit and peaceful rest. He's in the Go-Go who volunteers her time feeding dozens of orphaned children, trusting in God to provide for her own family. He's in the beauty of the sisters I serve with… Those same sisters you whispered lies of disgust and discontent to in their outward appearance. He's in the waitress that I've made friends with where we get internet, who bent over and took the broken shoe off of my foot to fix it so I could walk like a normal human being. He's in the Swazi couple who stopped on the side of the road to pick up a couple of walking American girls and refused to take our money after driving us for a few miles. He's in the little girl at the care-point, who offered to share her only meal of the day with one of my teammates when she didn't see her plate of rice and beans. He's in my family, in the sacrifices they're making in His name. And He's in me… In my over-flowing, joy-filled heart.

There's no room for you here… There's too much work to be in the name of God, too many lives to save and hearts to win over. There's too many hungry children to feed and projects to finish. Too many hurt and sick that need to be healed for your stupid antics to be given anymore time. The God of Angel Armies is preparing my way, and I won't go down without a fight. You will continue to try to kill and steal and destroy, but the God I serve has already conquered you and will ALWAYS give LIFE and life to the fullest. In Jesus' name I put on the full armor of God for me and each person close to me, near and far. Your flaming arrows will bounce off of us. I hate to break it to you, but you're done here. Leave and be gone and don't be comin' back.

Not so sincerely,

Sister Jac