Have you ever noticed how crises can be both unexpected and overwhelming?  Like the bombing of Pearl Harbor, life has the unsettling ability to suddenly switch from enjoying the sand and the sun to fighting fires and dodging bullets.

I had a couple of those days this week.  My existence seemed to be going pretty smoothly.  God was working some central questions out in my life, new friends had been made, and there was a sense that much of the mission of my life was being clarified.  Then Sunday night, out of what felt like sunny blue skies, the bombs began falling. It felt like an ambush.  Yet with my understanding of the world at war, God offered insight and I thought that I navigated the confusion better than usual.

Of course, Mondays always follow Sundays.  Work was insanely busy.  My emotions frayed, my brain overloaded, and my muscles tense, it seemed a good idea to run to the gym for a hard workout to clear my mind and refresh my heart, which by this time was guarded and under lock and key. 

Within ten minutes of arriving, I found myself surrounded by first two, then three, then four of the officers of the club.  I had earlier voiced some concerns and even written a note to them concerning how the facility was dealing with some issues, and they had come to clear the air. Naturally misinformation had filtered its way in, and the conversation was tense.  Any other time I would have welcomed the opportunity to bring up these differences, but tonight ... after all that had transpired in the 24 hours before … I felt ambushed again, cornered like a cat burglar caught in the attic. With no where to run and no where to hide; I just stood there, taking it in, shooting aimless arrows at the dark skies.

So this morning, God takes me to Luke chapter four.  It’s the account of the Jesus’ wilderness experience and his temptation by Satan. Verse 13 grabbed my attention. ‘When the devil had finished all of his tempting, he left him until an opportune time’ (emphasis mine).  That opportune time comes just a few passages later. 

Jesus begins performing miracles, people start listening, and then Luke reports that Jesus returned to his home town of Nazareth. Walking into the synagogue, our King stands up and reads from the prophet Isaiah: ‘The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.’ (Luke 4:18).  The crowd loves it. That is until he begins explaining in more detail how this whole thing is going to go down, and how they will not be praising for long, but rejecting the Son of God.  Our Lord is trying to be honest with them, letting those in attendance see the dangers that will follow.  They don’t.  Instead, they ‘were furious when they heard this.  They got up, drove him out of town, and took him to the brow of a hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff.’ (v.28-29).

Ambushed, at an opportune time.  That’s what our enemy does. Just as we are beginning to walk in our glory, in our part in the story, he takes us again to a cliff. Or he uses others to push us to that cliff.  Should we really be so surprised?   He hates what we do, he hates who we are, and he hates who we serve. If he was able to incite a mob to push the Son of God over an abyss, why not us? Jesus warned us that it would be so.

What I love most about that story though is what Jesus does.  He just turns around and walks away.  On with the mission. On with life. 

That’s the beauty of those opportune times that Satan uses to take me to the cliff, for they are also opportune times for Jesus to walk with me through the crowds and continue the journey.

If like me, you also frequently find yourself in the midst of an ambush, take heart (don’t lose heart).  Your enemy hates where you are and what you are doing.  And though it seems you are alone in the battle, Jesus is there, offering his hand and a way through the crowds and on with your mission.

To the King,

David