The Battle

I wrestled with a demon in my dream a few days ago. The scene was like a stop-motion oil painting, with each stroke bold and visible. Bright yellow light surrounded us, with darkness everywhere else.

The dark figure stood beside me, intent on tearing down human potential. It showed me a history of humanity’s worst deeds, painting us as parasites destined to repeat our horrors. Its argument was convincing, backed by overwhelming evidence. But the story was incomplete, I knew there was more to our obvious flaws. I argued back, pointing out the good we’ve done, the stories often left untold.

Frustrated, the demon attacked, and we wrestled like Jacob with God. I wasn’t going to give up. Punch after counterpunch, time flew under the glowing spotlight as I struggled against it. The battle drained me, forcing me to fight with all my strength.

The demon was logical but blind to truth. I realized much of life is spent doing what makes sense rather than living in God’s objective truths. Our fight became about protecting the best of humanity. In the end, the demon withdrew, not defeated but pausing for another day. I knew I couldn’t conquer it, not in this life. Only God could.

I woke up with subtle real pain—bruise pain without the spot, sore muscles, and a toothache that faded as the day went on. But I praised God for giving me the strength to stand firm, knowing that true power lies in His name, Jesus Christ.