I was a frilly little girl, and yet, I would stand for a whole match at my Grandpa’s elbow as he sat watching boxing on TV. The saddest thing to watch was a man up against the ropes, getting smacked relentlessly, his gloves at his face, bent, cringing from the blows. That image keeps coming to mind in this last couple of years. Many of you can relate. Read the full story at amiloper.com
As a recent situation in my life drove me to my knees – in pain and in prayer – I poured myself into prayer beyond the norm. I decreed and declared and renounced and repented. All of those things were good. However, I began to realize that a tweak, a reprogramming, of my brain desperately needed to happen when it came to how I did spiritual warfare.
Here I am, once again, mulling over a current pain until I’ve injured my heart. I may lay it at the Lord’s feet momentarily, but within the blink of an eye, there it is, its full weight in my hands as I preen the beast with a fine-toothed comb. What makes it continually come back to mind and heart? I’ve found two major barriers that keep my mind wandering back to handling the beast of pain.
