The Armor of God: Applying it to the Lies We Face
It was the eve of Valentines Day, and I was toting my rambunctious and rebellious toddler back to the car after dropping off some cookies to my husband between seminary classes. My little guy is all boy—fast, fearless, and fun. He’s not yet two, and we’re in the throes of training in righteousness. This particular Tuesday evening, I opted to let him run out some energy as we slowly made our way back to the car. His zig-zagging detours across the lawn left me tired and drained; my patience was getting thin as he seemed to be deaf to my guiding voice herding him towards the car. I buttoned my lip, took a deep breath, and scooped him up to carry him like a football the rest of the way. Talking to him about what we were doing next to prepare him for a transition back into the “captivity” of a car seat, I was excited to continue my plan of blessing my guys by going to a dollar store to get him his own Valentines Day balloon.
It was not to be. Because my strong-willed son refused to sit in his car seat to get buckled for a solid twelve minutes. I knew what I had to do, though more for my benefit than his in being consistent in disciplining.
Once he finally sat his little bottom down, I whipped the straps around him and buckled him in. My swirling emotions and tiredness were making me sweat. “Okay,” I said, “We’ve got to go home now and eat dinner. It’s too late to go to the store now. We’re just going back to Luke’s house, we’re not getting a balloon. No balloon tonight.” Did he care? No. Did I? Oh yes.
Friends, when I finally buckled myself in and drove home, I cried. Defeat poured over me, lies about being a terrible mother overwhelmed me with guilt and shame from the pit of hell. I knew I could spiral into a pit of apathetic negativity if I allowed myself to sit in this mess that had moved me to the point of overwhelmed tears.
So as I drove along Grinstead Drive, I gripped the steering wheel, and repeated under my breath, “Helmet of salvation. Shield of faith. Helmet of salvation. Shield of faith.”
My tears of overwhelmed condemnation changed to tears of refreshment as I received the truth the Holy Spirit prompted me to speak and helped me apply in these moments.
How does the helmet of salvation and shield of faith apply here? What’s the big deal?
The helmet of salvation spoke to me to remind me of what crowns my head. Salvation. Through Christ alone, I am saved and sealed and wear His righteousness.
The shield of faith is a defensive weapon that, thanks be to God, I received and held up in that moment of Satan’s onslaught against my value and worth in those moments of defeat and emotion.
Faith is a gift from God, a gift that is received, not earned, by pure extravagant grace. And God had me exercise this faith to strengthen it in this moment by confessing the truth of His armor that I bear as His child.
What are some common lies the enemy of our souls attacks you with in your mundane moments? What piece of armor can you “put on” by confessing it in agreement with the Word of the Lord instead of despairing or falling into a pity party because of the enemy’s lies?
Get in the Word, be in the Word, and trust the Holy Spirit will bring to your remembrance what we need, when we need it. Paul writes to the church in Ephesus some exhortations I want to leave you with:
“Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm…
…praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance…” Ephesians 6:13 & 18
–Meghan DeWalt
