Wormwood, or one of his pals

C.S. Lewis authored "The Screwtape Letters".

It is written in a satirical, epistolary style and while it is fictional in format, the plot and characters are used to address Christian theological issues, primarily those to do with temptation and resistance to it. First published in February 1942,[1] the story takes the form of a series of letters from a senior Demon Screwtape to his nephew Wormwood, a Junior Tempter. The uncle's mentorship pertains to the nephew's responsibility in securing the damnation of a British man known only as "the Patient". (from Wikipedia)

I love this book. I know that Satan is not omnipresent, so there are demons dispatched to do his dirty work. And they are good. I have been feeling under attack recently. You know how it is, you step out to do something new for God. It may not even be big by most people's standards, but it stretches you. And because it stretches you, it brings you closer to Christ and Satan doesn't like that, so enter your own personal demon.

It's an election year, for crying out loud, how can I be important enough to be under attack? Yet, I feel that I am. And my very own "Wormwood" knows the things to whisper in my ear. He knows how to get in my head. He knows what I struggle with. He knows my fears and insecurities and he really works them.

Since I know this, you would think it would remove his power over me. And most of the time, I am pretty strong. Except for when I'm not.

I hold onto my Scriptures that tell me I'm strong, Colossians 1:11 "God will strengthen you with his own great power so you will not give up when troubles come, but you will be patient"; and a lifetime favorite, Philippians 4:13 "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." (on the back of my work out shirt it references this Scripture and says "tell me I can't".

As "Wormwood" continues to whisper that I'm not good enough to serve God in any area, because I'm a loser. Seriously, he uses that word for me. Whispers I'm too old and not sexy enough for my husband. Tells me I'm weak and not smart enough or talented enough or funny enough, or wise enough, and that I talk too much and I talk before thinking. And this is not something I live with, just brief moments here and there where he sneaks it in. I choose not to listen, not to believe.

I am a child of God. Beautiful, precious, worthy. And that is enough for me.

24 years ago

I've been missing writing. What better day to get back to it than a day that is special to me?

My man child turns 24 today. I love him. I miss him. He moved to Lawrence, Kansas earlier this year.

He is not the man I raised, not on the path I chose for him. He is better. He is his own man, and he is a good man, and in his words, "I like myself, Mom. You should be proud of that."

And I am proud of him.

Seeing him as a self sufficient, productive, happy adult makes me feel like I've accomplished something worth celebrating. So tomorrow, (Friday) we are going to Lawrence to celebrate him, his birthday with him and his girlfriend. I may have went overboard, it looks a little like Christmas, the amount of presents. (They are wrapped in the family tradition of Calvin & Hobbs cartoons.)