For the first time ever I decided to talk to Satan this morning, to tell him directly (with and by the power of Christ) to butt out of my life.
What I found most disturbing about the experience was my reluctance to tell Satan off. I found myself being, of all things, respectful. Which is gross, but maybe to be expected.
I tend to deify Satan, to confer abilities on him which I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have. I think of Satan as Jesus’ arch nemesis, like the bad guys in comic book movies—astoundingly powerful but not quite as powerful (or ingenious) as the good guy.
But that’s not the way it is. Satan isn’t just a little less powerful than God. He’s no where near as powerful as God—even comparing them is stupid. Most of the power he has in my life is power I’ve handed over to him. He’s NOT a demigod, or an almost-god. I can beat him. Maybe not alone. But I can win every time when I’m channeling the power of God inside me.
So, I’ve decided to talk to Satan like the lying punk he is. I don’t get the chance to chew people out too often, not too godly. But I have a feeling God might like this…