Our Slovakia evangelistic family camp began last Sunday. Campers arrived in the afternoon and the program kicked off after supper.
Interestingly, a camp of teenagers moved into the hotel on Sunday afternoon, too. They took the floor directly above ours, and supervision was either invisible, non-existent, or taking an extended break somewhere. What can I say? The next morning, at staff meeting, our team reported that the ruckus from above lasted until 5 AM. Furthermore, one couple on the team reported that men were drinking alcohol and breaking bottles throughout the night, directly below their window.
Miracle of miracles, I never heard a thing. When I went to bed around midnight, I stuck plugs in my ears. They obviously work very well. Our in-country camp leaders spoke to the hotel management first thing in the morning, but they received no guarantees about quieter nights ahead. Regardless, we all began praying about the situation.
We also began praying about a health issue that appeared out of nowhere overnight. One of our Canadian career staff, a gal in her 20s, is directing this camp. She awoke on Monday morning with extreme joint pain and swelling in one of her fingers. She’d neither bumped or sprained her finger to cause an injury.
Personally, I try to be cautious about not giving Satan more credit than he’s due while, at the same time, acknowledging that he is crafty, powerful, and bent on stealing, killing, and destroying. If what happened on Sunday night was spiritual warfare, then I’m not surprised. Two nights before this camp began, I woke at 3 AM from a nightmare in which an evil presence threatened our lives and the lives of our children. I can still recall every vivid detail.
In 2008, while ministering at a family camp in Slovakia, I experienced a sense of evil, too. It came not in the form of a nightmare but as an oppressive cloud that lasted for four days. The enemy bombarded me with lies about my marriage…lies that I knew were totally unfounded, and yet they came so fast and furiously that they would have undone me had I not prayed and praised my way through the darkness with my husband’s help. That experience was so black that it took nearly two months before I could speak about it to anyone other than my hubby, who was with me when it happened.
Spiritual warfare is real. We wrestle not against flesh and blood but against unseen forces and principalities. We enter battle mindful that God has given us the spiritual armor we need to conquer. And so we pray and move forward, expecting Him to grant victory. Would you pray with us as we do battle for the Eastern Europeans we’ve grown to love?