Love is a Battlefield

September 12, 2012

I’ve been hiding out. Mostly from myself since I can’t seem to hide from anyone else. Tonight as I sat in a quiet house catching up on my blog reading and just generally musing about the month that has just passed me by, the chorus of Pat Benatar’s Love is a Battlefield are running through my head (I can’t remember the rest of the lyrics). Why? Because my life feels like a battle ground and I’m on the losing side. The stress was so great the other night I sat on the stairs and cried as my husband and children slept.

Our morning devotion time has been taking place like clockwork. We read our Bible passage and the shot devotional that goes along with it. We talk about how it applies to our own lives and we pray. With school starting at the beginning of the month we dove right in to our Plants Grown Up studies. And have been learning about what God requires for a man to be a good leader. And I have ear marked an hour each afternoon for personal Bible study (a new venture for me).

With all this “God time” you would think things would be flowing smoothly. Ha! Wait that wasn’t emphatic enough… HA!! HA!!

My son has become angry and bitter. He lashes out at any one and everyone around him spewing accusations of wrongdoing to justify his own wrongdoing. He has become physically and verbally aggressive toward his sisters. And has simply become unpleasant to be around. My husband and I used to feel that we had a budding young Revivalist in our midst, but I fear that if he continues on this path we will lose his soul. I pray almost nightly for God to get a hold on him. And prayer is all I have left. I have tried everything else I could think of to get through and it all seems to fall on deaf ears.

My eldest daughter has developed a habit of laziness and willful deafness, preferring to spend her time laying about with her blanket in one hand and her thumb in her mouth. If it is not something she wants to do it simply does not get done. When correction and/or discipline results she gets a scowl on her face and says the meanest thing she can think of at the time.

And my youngest has entered the “terrible twos” phase. A stubborn streak a mile wide has shown up to go with the “I don’t want to” and “You’re mean” phrases. At least she is still willing to help out wherever she can and she likes to tell you “You’re my best friend – I love you”.

None of them will stay in bed, preferring to fight Mom, Dad and sleep until, from sheer exhaustion, they finally nod off minutes before we do.

They have developed the nasty habit of turning their nose up at the food placed before them at meal time. Which creates another battle ground.

Chores have been neglected. And my reminders that they need to get done are met with “Yeah, yeah, yeah” or a mumbled “You just like to give orders”.

And my rebukes of their behavior are met with steely glares and a face meant to communicate utter disdain.

My life has become a battle. All day, every day, and I am tired.

I try to console myself with thoughts that this is just a phase and it too shall pass. But I wondered? Is my family under attack?

For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places. – Ephesians 6:12

WARFARE, n. [war and fare.]

1. Military service; military life; war.

    The Philistines gathered their armies for warfare. 1 Samuel 28.

2. Contest; struggle with spiritual enemies.

    The weapons of our warfare are not carnal. 2 Corinthians 10.

WARFARE, v.i. To lead a military life; to carry on continual wars.

    In that credulous warfaring age.