The whisperer

He was stuck in her ears.

She recognized the lies he told but this whole time she had endured, hoping she would turn the lies to truth eventually.

“You can never be more than what I allow you to be”. It’s a lie. She knows it, and she was determined to make him see it.

The problem is, we are affected by what we hear — and, probably, more than we realize.

“Take a look at yourself and give me one good reason why you can believe for what you hope for”.  This too was a lie. She knew it. But, eventually, she began to look and to wonder about the audacity that had emboldened her and spurred her on to this belief.

What if he had been right all along?

What if she truly could be nothing more than what his benevolent supply allowed?

Some days she recognized the lies.

But they began to blur.

And he was relentless.

She sunk roots into the darkness; it was good ground for what he was cultivating.

The darkness amplified the whispers.

The whispers became familiar.

They became reality.

And then they took on strange forms that were, to undiscerning eyes, the truth.

But the thing with the truth is that it could never be a lie.

It is never quiet, never subdued, and it never loses its power.

Even the whisperer knows this.

So when she began to catch glimpses of light that caused her to question the darkness, he knew it was the work of truth.

So he did again, what he had done at the beginning—

He caused her to question truth by projecting the business of life that were still works in progress.

If he could distort hope until it looks like discontentment, he’d have her where he wanted her — hungry, overwhelmed, tired, unsatisfied….

And then he’d offer her poor substitutes for what she’d be giving up by letting go of hope.

His advantage this time was the place he had gained—

He was stuck in her ears.

But something had changed.

She was letting the light in.

He was losing his place.

Now she was countering his lies with the truth — and who can stand the power the truth!

Festering wounds were healing.

The more she embraced the truth, the more unstable he became.

He was getting dislodged.

His work was coming undone.

She could believe again and she knew that she had the right to have this faith.

She challenged every lie — she no longer had any intention to convert his lies to the truth. She rejected them outrightly.

Light was flooding this place — and getting brighter.

It was time to leave.

But he would try again sometime later, here or somewhere else.

If only he didn’t have the truth to contend with!

If only his captives would be content with his whispers!

He watched helplessly as she took flight, escaped like a bird out of the snare of the fowlers.

And then he went on — hissing, whispering… waiting for the next discontent soul to welcome his darkness.

And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. (John 8:32)

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2 thoughts on “The whisperer”

  1. Very beautiful and poetic writing, I LOVE this my friend. God’s truth is light that floods in and pushes the darkness out. Through the years, I have experienced Jesus’ working on the inside of me to bring healing and a sense of purpose to my life. He loves me so much! Thank you for your sweet encouragement this morning … 🙏🩷


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