Dipping into the Arsenal ~ Armed with Worship

I remember walking down the street on a sunny day. And then something hit me. Hard.
It was this unwelcome fading in my head. My throat was closing. It was hard to swallow. It was like I was suffocating from within. I felt like I was going to collapse. And the more I was aware of what I felt, the worse it became. It was like there was a force beyond my ability to comprehend or fight. It wanted to take me down and it was winning. It went beyond fear. It went beyond worry.
It was sheer panic.

There was a time when I was a child playing with the neighbourhood kids. We ended up at one of their houses. There was a six-step stairway that led up to the side entrance to the house. Beneath the stairs was a storage space. What my memory shares with me now is that I ended up in that cubby space, and one of the other kids locked it from the outside. I sat in the dark, knees bent up, body shaking, and panic crept in beside me and met me in the dark. That's all I can remember from that moment in time.
The feeling I had.
I was trapped.
In the dark.
Locked in a small space.
I couldn't get out.

Panic.

From the time under the stairway to the sunny day, panic wanted to be my companion.

It took a long time and many surprise panic attacks in my high school and college years, but I discovered something.
That while panic thought it could take me, I could fight back.
While panic thought it would beat me, I could defeat it with the right weapon.
When panic thought to overtake me, I found something that could overcome.

My evenings became a time of pacing around my living room, giving panic a piggy-back ride. I paced; I walked; I stood still; I fell to my knees; then I fell to the floor, face down.
Pleading.
Praying.
On my piggy-back riding battlefield, I was given a weapon.
And slowly, the grip around my neck began to loosen. My load felt lighter.
My burden was slipping from my back.

Worship.

In my living room pacing, I worshipped. Music played. Scripture was spoken.
The battle raged.
Arrows flew ~ they hit their mark a few times. Blood poured. Tears flowed. Cries ensued.

But the power of worship prevailed.
Worship is one of the most potent tools of warfare.
I can't explain it. But I know it.
Maybe because many of our battles are brewing on the spiritual level.
The enemy knows if he can enter into the mind, into the soul, and he can do it subtly or in a way that masks his true intentions, we can be defeated.
But the enemy also knows that God is greater than he. And that when a believer worships God, that the gates of hell tremble and crumble.
And that is when the battle shifts.

Music worship saved me in that time of living room pacing. My heart was humbled before the supreme authority of the forever-reigning King Jesus.
Panic was challenged with worship.
The weapon of worship lifted my head, my heart, my hands.
The act of worship loosened bindings, broke down walls, released the warriors.
The panic that clutched with such intense horror, shuttered in fear itself.
And God moved, causing the enemy to retreat. With his tail between his legs.

Never ever take for granted the power of worship.
When you sing songs in church, I implore you to hear them differently, to see them deeply, to think about the words you sing out and what level of passion or thoughtfulness you have.
You wouldn't arm yourself with a weapon and just let it hang limply at your side in times of battle attacks. You would lift it up, aim and fire.
Your weapon would become your defense.
When we lift our worship, aim it in the right direction and fire it up, the enemy gets scared.
When we worship, the enemy flees.
When the enemy flees, God's people see freedom.

I love the story in 2 Chronicles 20 ... "After consulting the people, the king appointed singers to walk ahead of the army, singing to the Lord and praising Him for His holy splendor ... at the very moment they began to sing and give praise, the Lord caused the armies of the enemies to start fighting among themselves."
The enemy was defeated in that moment of worship.
God's people didn't even have to fight.

That little girl in the dark storage space?
That woman panicking on the street on that sunny day?

She is safely under the saving wing of her Father.
She learned to war with worship.

"Those who dwell in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty ... He will shield you with His wings. He will shelter you with His feathers."  (Psalm 91:1)

"Let all that I am praise the Lord; with my whole heart, I will praise His Holy Name. Let all that I am praise the Lord; may I never forget the good things He does for me ~ He forgives all my sins and heals all my diseases. He redeems me from death and crowns me with love and tender mercies. He fills my life with good things. My youth is renewed like the eagle's." (Psalm 103, NLT)