The Bully

There’s one on every playground.

He roams around, shoves kids to the ground, and steals their snacks. He usually has a posse with him. They’re a mean bunch. It’s a sad and horrible day when they discover you. And they will.

So, you prepare. You’ll be ready. There’s no way he’ll take you down.

Then, this crazy thing happens: You’re hanging on the swings one day, minding your own business, and he comes alongside. He’s heard about you, he says. Heard about your skills. How you’ve got great aim and all of that.

Thanks, you say.                        

Sure thing. How about you join up with us? He asks. You’d fit right in.

Just like that, the deal’s sealed. You’re one of them.

He’s nothing like I thought he’d be.
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This is how the devil works, ladies. We’re prepared for overt evil. We’re on the defense and run from anything reeking of his rancid stench.

No, I’d never even think of going in there, I say.

I don’t watch those movies, you say.

But, then, he surprises us. He catches us off guard and trips us in the most unexpected ways. It’s not what we’d expected, so he is able to lure us into gossip or whispers lies that we want to believe. Like, You’re so much better than she is. You know that, right?  Or he tells us things we can’t help but believe. You’re a failure. Worthless. No good.

We believe him.  And just like that, the deal’s sealed …

Oh, wait. It’s not.

Because the seal’s been broken, forever and a day, smashed by bursting Light. We’ve  a Holy Father and Elder Brother Who’ve wreaked such havoc on this bully’s playground that he has no choice but to cut and run as soon as They speak. They breathe, and the devil withers.

Our playground–the ground of motherhood and sisterhood and all this entails–is holy ground. Our Father owns this lot, friends, and He’s asked us to be on guard against the prowler. This liar who weakens us with arrows of insecurity or pride or discouragement.

So, let’s pray for discernment. Let’s arm ourselves with the power of Jesus Christ. Bear His arms and watch for the mama-sisters who need us to jump in and shield, encourage and lift up.  

There’s no target like the tired ones. Tired, beat down, and weary ones.

That’s me. And you.

Mighty Warrior. Father. Fill me with Your holiness. Grant me Spirit-sight and discernment. Remind me I am Yours. My worth is You. The devil has no power over me. Give me wisdom in the face of his lies, grace to defend my sisters, and confidence in the shattered seal. Your Light fills my space. Protect my heart in the name of Jesus.   Amen.

Author: Melissa Bronson

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