The Sabbath of Attacks

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Somtimes, Satan attacks you with an onslaught in one day. If he cannot overcome you one way, he will try another.

Sabbath morning. I woke up early to work on the sermon buzzing around in my brain throughout the week. I prayed and started organizing my verses, but I still could not figure out where it was going. It seemed I had two sermons stuck together, but I kept at it and let it be. The final sermon often does not come together for me until I stand in front of the congregation.

After arriving at church and participating in Sabbath School, I looked at all the verses I had collected but still could not mentally pull everything together. But while seated on the platform, while other parts of the church service were being conducted, I silently prayed, Okay, God, I am standing up. Now can you tell me what I am preaching about? But God remained silent, so I began from the top of my collection of verses, and the sermon came together little by little, growing in intensity as I quoted the Bible describing Satan masquerading as Jesus returning. After almost an hour, the sermon was finished.

We headed home and rested a bit, and then prepared to head to women’s ministry. just as we were ready to leave, I got an intense stomach ache. Where did that come from? I wondered. I squirmed a bit, thinking the pain would subside, but it didn’t. So I laid on the floor and prayed, rebuking Satan if this was his doing. Sure enough, it calmed down after that and was almost entirely gone by the time I got dressed. After that, we left. We had only traveled down the dirt road about 1.5 km (just under a mile) from the house when we suddenly came to an abrupt stop. The suspension that holds the tire up on the front of the truck had dug into the dirt road. And that was that. “Wow, Satan really does not want us to go to women’s ministry,” I said.

At first, I was going to call women’s ministry off, but then Ester said I could call Fidel and see if he could take us on the motorcycle. He accepted and came to get us. Ester and I squished onto the small baggage rack of the motorcycle, hanging on tightly. Although we were traveling slowly, Ester and I almost fell off, her one way and me the other. That caused much laughter. We finally made it the 5km to church, where we had a good meeting and watched the first part of a Walter Veith video.

We then started to walk home, but as it was already sundown and getting dark quickly, and with the threat of terrorism in the area, I didn’t really want us to continue walking. I called Fidel to come and get us, but a couple of minutes later, we passed the police station. The chief was there. Because we know each other, he said he would take us home but told us to keep walking and he would meet up with us. About five minutes later, he picked us up and took us home.

The following day, the mechanic came and fixed the truck. We praise God for His protection, deliverance and help and that He did not let the truck get stuck out on the main road even if it was in a rather bothersome spot.

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