“If God were real, this wouldn’t be happening…”
A few moments earlier, I was feeling ready to conquer the day.
I had been to the gym, showered, and now I’m headed to work. I open the refrigerator to grab my lunch, only to discover the lights are off in the fridge and everything is warm.
My heart sinks.
We’ve been preparing to replace the refrigerator, but it has met its demise ahead of schedule.
And—we’ve just bought groceries.
It’s a little past 7. My wife has been up since 5, trying to get in her doctoral work before going to her job. When she hears that the fridge is dead, she stops what she’s doing to surmise what can be salvaged.
Then the voices start.
“See, look at you. You know your wife has a lot on her plate right now. She’s been up since before 5 o’clock in the morning trying to get her schoolwork done. And now she has to stop that to deal with this.”
“See, you’re hurting her. Again.”
“If you were a real man, you would have had the refrigerator replaced by now.”
“What are you going to do now? What can you do?! Can you even afford to replace it? You don’t have enough cash on hand. Your cards are maxed out.”
“Look at you.”
“You ain’t s#!%.”
Then the enemy continues…
“Look at this other guy. Is he obsessed with the Lord? He’s doing just fine. He’s taking his wife on regular trips. He’s had way more success than you—and his head is not constantly in a Bible.”
“If God was real, wouldn’t you be better off for all your labor and devotion?”
He had me on the ropes until that last line.
Up to that point, I was personally surprised that this was hitting me so hard. “A refrigerator?!” I thought. “That’s what’s going to take me out?”
But it wasn’t the refrigerator. That was just the most recent in a volley of blows. It was like being in a boxing match, where a fighter is repeatedly taking shots. In the course of the fight, each blow lands—but he’s still standing. Yet one by one, he’s being worn down—he’s getting fatigued.
The refrigerator was the latest blow in a flurry of blows that came in rapid succession: we had just dropped more than a grand to replace a broken dryer just weeks before; we have a kid in college, challenges at work, challenges at home, this isn’t done, that isn’t done… I’m failing. And the refrigerator was the hit that made me wobble.
But when the enemy disparaged my Beloved—when he tried to separate me from the love of God—it snapped me to my senses.
“Oh, I see.”
“So, that’s what we’re doing?” I thought. “You’re trying to get me to abandon God.”
When he had me thinking about me—or me in comparison to another—he was having some success. But it was limited, because I’ve seen this attack before, and I’ve learned somewhat how to fight against it.
But when he tried to tell me to “curse God and die,” he revealed his hand too soon and brought my attention to the true objective of this fight faster than I would have realized on my own.
Being torn down is something I’m accustomed to. So I often allow and participate in this destructive behavior, because I take a strange comfort in its familiarity.
But that’s the old man—the sin that dwells in me—that I repent of and turn away from.
“I am His” is now the totality of my identity.
Whatever good is in me—He made me (1 Corinthians 15:10).
Whatever good I lack—He will make me (Philippians 1:6).
This foundation has been tested and firmly established.
But when the flurry of blows comes, it can feel like the ground is taken from under you. When you’re getting lambasted, it’s hard to tell up from down.
So I prayed:
“How do I orient myself when the world is swirling?”
Something the enemy said—”If God was real, wouldn’t you be better off?”—begged a question:
What is the basis of reality?
Nothing in this world can be the basis for reality, because my perception can be manipulated. Poles can shift.
This is why “we walk by faith, not by sight.” (2 Corinthians 5:7)
I think about Jesus being in the wilderness of temptation, where He’s met by the great deceiver—Satan—and the wilderness becomes the pinnacle of the temple, then the top of a mountain—a place overlooking all the kingdoms of the world.
The evil one can distort reality (1 John 5:19).
If the basis of reality for Jesus were something physical, like a place, or even metaphysical, like a purpose such as saving mankind, He would have had occasion to stumble. Because—why not fall down and worship Satan if it accomplished the purpose of saving mankind? It achieves the purpose without the pain of the cross.
But Jesus was clearly oriented by something else.
Jesus had other means to determine whether He was on the right path, doing the right things, and headed in the right direction—and it wasn’t anything here.
Jesus did not look at the size of the crowds and see it as the proof.
Not to the praise of men (John 2:24–25).
Not to the recognition of the elite (Luke 11:37; 14:1).
Not even to the love of His closest friends (Matthew 16:22–23).
Jesus was oriented by something else—not by a point in space, nor by proof of a moment, but by the Person of the Godhead, which He was a part of.
“And He who sent Me is with Me. The Father has not left Me alone, for I always do those things that please Him.”
— John 8:29
This is the basis of reality.
So, what happens when everything falls apart?
I find myself in Christ.
“For in Him we live and move and have our being.”
— Acts 17:28
In asking, “If God was real, wouldn’t you be better off?”, my enemy attempted to make prosperity the basis of reality. Prosperity—the logic goes—is then proof of the right way (“God”), which is easily falsifiable, as we know prosperity can be ill-gotten.
But no—the basis of reality is not prosperity but a person.
“Jesus said to him, ‘I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.‘”
— John 14:6
So when my world is upside down, I have three pillars with which to triangulate my position:
How I know the truth
• The revelation and promises of God’s Word
• The exposition and example of God the Son, Jesus Christ, as the Living Word
• The prompting and leading of God the Holy Spirit, as the Spirit of the Word (Romans 3:4)
Why I do anything
• To be with God (Philippians 3:8–10)
Where I am
• God is always with me, and I experience His presence when I’m in obedience—loving His beloved (Romans 8:38)
The answer is God.
There’s one more—not a proof, but a helpful effect:
What the result is
Testimony—my chronicled experience of God’s work, including the fruit of obedience, both mine and others’.
When I move on this basis, I will not fall.
I will live and not die.
I will have victory.
“Now thanks be to God who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and through us diffuses the fragrance of His knowledge in every place.”
— 2 Corinthians 2:14
Trying to function apart from Christ is building on shifting sands. But He is sure ground where I can plant my foot. And when I throw my punch—it lands.
“Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air.”
— 1 Corinthians 9:26
When my world is upside down, orienting myself in Christ is the first step in heaven that gives sure footing for my next step on earth.
#HowToStandInTheOnslaught #SpiritualWarfare #perfectourlove
