Except for God, who has no beginning and no end, everything has finality. All things, whether planets, suns, solar systems, men, or dung beetles, have a beginning and an ending. Granted the timeframe between a planet and a dung beetle might differ a bit, but finality is finality.
It is a disheartening thing to realize that the devil is more aware and cerebral about this reality than much of the church. Whenever the topic of the end times or the end of days comes up, most believers either tune out or become visibly uncomfortable with the notion that the end is nigh. Many have worked so long and so hard to build their little fiefdoms here on earth, they’ve talked themselves into believing the end is a far off theory; something future generations might have to contend with at some point.
Because their hearts are tethered to the things of this earth, they see no correlation between the shrinking window of time, and the enemy’s intensified campaign against the church.
“The devil’s always been the devil, brother. I think we just want to believe he is ratcheting up his attacks.”
If I could bring myself to believe the preceding statement, something I heard spill out of an actual pastor’s mouth, perhaps it would give me some semblance of comfort. Sure, the enemy is as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour, but this has always been the case, nothing has changed. No need to prepare for all-out war, we’ve made it this far, haven’t we?
All plausible arguments if not for the fact that the enemy knows his time is short. The devil knows he is like a dog on a leash, and God is about to yank it, hard. Whiplash hard. Make your head wobble and neck creak kind of hard.
The devil knows this is his last attempt at breaching the wall, at storming the castle, and he’s got nothing to lose. Either way, his end is certain, and he knows it.
It is no coincidence that every fowl thing and abomination has crawled out from the shadows. It is no coincidence that the attacks against Christianity have become more fevered, more shrill, more unhinged, and rabid.
The walls are closing in, time is slipping away, and the enemy knows that it’s now or never.
An enemy with nothing to lose is far more dangerous than one who hopes to survive the battle and grow old. If we are not willing to match the enemy’s ferocity blow for blow, if we are not as willing to defend the truth as forcefully as he is to attack it, we will wither under the brunt of his attacks and give up territory.
Let’s face it; there isn’t that much territory left to give up. There’s nowhere to retreat to. This is the time; this is the moment when the church must make its last stand against an enemy who is preparing his final assault.
Finality is inevitable. We can’t wish it away, and we can’t will it away, we can’t even pray it away. It has been foretold, it has been determined, and the final pieces are moving into place. Once we accept this inevitability, the only questions that remain are whether we are ready for battle and whether we will stand and face the enemy or flee from before him.
With love in Christ,
Michael Boldea Jr.