When the chief tormentor arrived on your turf with an orchestra, he hoisted his flag and played the pipe, the horn, and the drums, dancing and taunting, “I own you.”
He embellished the album with lyrics filled with lies and doubts. Then you cried in distress until you heard,
“Stop the music and send him out. He does not own the turf, nor you; you let him in!”
Take up your weapons and fight him in the strength of the Lord! Fight every second he comes at you. Resist the thief of rest.
Roll out your drums. Play a new song. Sing it aloud to God. And find rest in your Maker.
© Enobong O’wunmi.
(Photo credit: https://unsplash.com/@jefflssantos)
