with disgust against the inside glass of your windshield while
you’re driving down the road, rehearsing the script for your
next altercation? Because the fact is, he’s most likely the one
who’s pulled the wool over your eyes, fooling you with a crafty
bait and switch, leading you to focus all your indignation on
your man or your kid instead.
He wants you miserable and exhausted and joyless and
undone. He wants that picture of the gospel—the one you call
your marriage and your family—he wants it tarnished. Ripped
up. Smeared in the mud of failure. Held up as fresh meat from
the kill. Turning you against each other and tearing everybody
in half. As much as the Father loves and embodies unity, your
enemy loves and embodies division. Wherever discord is
present, he’s never too far away. And as most of us sadly know
from far too much personal experience, no wounds cut as deep
or cleave us at the core of our existence more than the wounds
we receive at the hands of our family.
You’d better believe he wants a piece of that action.But maybe he wasn’t counting on this: a woman who’d had
enough, enough to start taking some prayer action. For her
marriage, for her husband, for her children—for all her family.