There's much I'd like to share with you about the last month: so many encouragements and so many trials. I've laughed this month... and I've cried. There have been days when everything went just right, and days when everything went all wrong. Never before in my life have I had a month so full of emotional turmoil. If I hadn't already been a believer in spiritual warfare, this month alone would have been more than enough to convince me that our struggle is "not against flesh and blood" at all. Though, in some ways, the month was just an endless string of to-do's-volunteer recruiting, emails, meetings, paperwork, painting, cleaning, writing etc.-the whole period was undergirded by a clear sense of the presence of God... and the presence of darkness.

I'll share a story that I hope will clarify for you what I'm talking about. There's a family who I've been involved with for the last year or so that I love very dearly. I just knew that a Christian education would be a blessing to this family in so many ways. So, I worked hard to give two of the kids (who were and are very close to my heart) the chance to go to a private Christian school here in Roanoke. I got their applications filled out, spoke to the school, took them to visit, requested their transcripts and recommendations, and even paid to have them tested. I cannot tell you the hours I spent in prayer begging God to work it all out for the good of these kids (which I was sure meant them attending this school). Then, it all fell through. They didn't get accepted. I just sat in my car and cried... I asked the same question that the Israelites asked in Malachi: "Where is the God of Justice?" I just didn't get it. God knew these kids needed that school, didn't He?! So, I got angry, and I got bitter. Not at God, per se (I know I have no right to question His plan), but certainly at the school. I just couldn't bring myself to believe that they couldn't have worked something out.

I stayed upset for several days until, that Sunday at church, I shared the situation with a woman who was there. She wasn't someone I knew very well, but a question she'd asked had led me to just pour out my frustration. She told me that God had a plan.

"I know he does, but that doesn't mean the people I love won't get lost." I quickly responded.

She looked at me and told me to listen carefully to what she had to say:

"Josh, you're exactly right. I know how it feels. There are things that happen that I'm not ok with, people that slip through the cracks. I tell God that I'm not ok with those things. But, and listen to me, Satan wants to translate that ‘not-ok-ness,' that grief, into bitterness and anger. He wants to take that hurt and turn it into hate for others and even hate for God. Christ, on the other hand, desperately wants to translate that grief into a deep and lasting trust in His character, a dependance on who He is. Too often we place our trust in the plans of God, which, make no mistake, are good and perfect. But even that trust is misplaced. Lean on God Himself, lean on His character, His goodness, instead of His plan... And you will never be disappointed."

In that moment God spoke to me on two different levels. First and foremost, He reminded me that my faith is not based on the beauty of His plan, but the beauty of His character. I want more of God... not more good things or pleasant circumstances. Secondarily, He showed me that, in my own heart, I had been framing the conflict wrong. I'd been thinking about the last few days as a me versus the school or even the kids versus the world. I was so consumed with these physical ‘outside' battles that I forgot the war we fight is not against the physical at all, but against the spiritual. And, in my haste to confront these outward challenges, I, in a very real way, allowed Satan to win the only battle that really counted.

This is why the distinction between the physical and the spiritual is so important; if our true battle was physical, fighting with the weapons of this world-with anger and hate and hard work-would be our only option. But that is not the war we fight! And those things cannot be our weapons of choice. We must draw our equipment from the armory of God: we must read the Word, live in an attitude of prayer, and have faith in a living, active, and powerful God.

As soon as I allowed God to reframe my mindset, to shift my paradigm, I began to see that God had placed those kids exactly where He wanted them to be. He took my bitterness and translated my grief into a deeper reliance on Christ. And even if things never turn out how I think they should, He is still present, He is still powerful, and He is still good.