Walter ran up the last few steps and walked swiftly to the door. He didn’t want to be late for work and unnecessarily bring any negative attention to himself from the boss. But as he swung open the door and entered the office, there was the boss.
“Ah, Walter,” he said, towering over his diminutive employee. “How’s it going with the coding on that new project? It’s really important that we make our deadline on this one.”
Walter adjusted his glasses and blinked up at his boss. “It’s going well. In fact, I’m ahead of schedule and have the whole thing mapped out. I should be done by the end of the week.”
“Great,” said his boss. “Keep it up the good work.” Walter nodded and headed to his cubical, hung his coat over his chair and got down to work.
Walter was well into his coding when something caught his attention. At first he thought maybe he’d imagined it, but no, there it was again: a movement in the back of his mind. He reached for his sword and shield, and swung around just in time to face his foe, the dragon of jealousy.
The hot flames of the dragon’s breath swept over him, reminding him of how he’d been passed over for that promotion he’d wanted and a less experienced guy had gotten it–but Walter kept up his shield, warding off the flames, “Thank you, Lord, for your care and protection in all.” He brought his sword up, slashing with skill at the dragon’s vulnerable areas: “You, Lord, are sovereign, and if getting that promotion had been good for me, you would have given it. I can praise you for not allowing me to have it, for your Word says, ‘The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.’”
The dragon drew back and stumbled off into the brush. Walter leaned on his sword, panting. He wiped the soot from the dragon’s flames off his face, reminding himself, “My soul finds rest in God alone. He only is my rock.”
Then he heard the twang and whirled around, raising his shield in one smooth motion, intercepting the flaming arrow of self-pity. “Thank you, Lord, that you cause my cup to overflow, and lead me in paths of righteousness; I thank you for what you give and what you withhold, for you are good and wise and loving. I can trust you in this situation.” The arrow thunked into the shield and sizzled out.
Walter waited for another attack, but when nothing stirred, he went back to his coding, glad that he’d kept his armor on with his sword and shield handy.
The rest of the morning went well, but later in the afternoon, there came another sneak attack. Things weren’t progressing as fast as he’d planned, with some unforeseen glitches he’d have to solve.
He was somewhat unhappy with himself for not anticipating these problems. As a result, his breastplate was hanging awry and he didn’t get his shield up in time, so a flaming arrow of worry was able to strike him in his chest. He immediately felt the poison of anxiety begin to seep into his heart.
He reached up and pulled out the arrow with the glove of confession and threw it down. “Lord, forgive me for not trusting you; you promise to lead me through whatever comes, even if it’s the valley of the shadow of death–so I can trust you to help me work out these issues. As it says in Psalm 86:7, ‘I will call upon you in the day of my trouble, for you will answer me.’ I praise you now for how you will guide in overcoming these obstacles in my work.”
Stamping out the still smoldering arrow with his shoes of peace, Walter put some truth-salve from Psalm 62 on his wound “My soul, find rest in God alone, for my hope comes from Him. He only is my rock, my salvation and my high tower. I will never be shaken.” That quickly lessened the pain and he was able to think clearly again and get back to his work.
–to be continued
