The Invaders

In the back yard of the house where I used to live was a huge old tree, home to birds and squirrels and the provider of deep, cooling shade. But it was dying. To be exact, by the time I called in a professional, it was mostly already dead. The tree service man came twice to examine it before arriving at a conclusion. He was as reluctant as I to pronounce it hopeless, but at last he said surgery would not be of any significant help. The tree must come down because it was endangering the homes—my neighbor’s and mine—that it had sheltered for so many years. In a storm with high winds or under the weight of ice and snow--a distinct possibility here in Kansas--the battered old tree could drop its heavy limbs on the roofs beneath it.

I was sad, of course. The wide-spreading branches had been trimmed back many times through the years to keep them away from utility lines. The sewer had had to have intruding roots removed, as well. But cutting down the wonderful old tree had never been considered, its assets far outweighing the burdens it imposed. How, all of a sudden, did it become such a liability?

My old tree, like others in this area, had suffered some real hardships in the previous few years: drought, a spring with early warming followed by a deadly freeze, hail that stripped off the leaves. While it was in a stressed and weakened condition, the elm beetles moved in. They feed, the tree surgeon told me, on a vital part of the branches, the food-carrying inner bark. With these essential tissues damaged, the very life of a tree is compromised. But that alone is not what killed the tree. The beetles carry on their wings the fungus responsible for the deadly Dutch elm disease. Without harming the beetle itself, the fungus spreads and infects the whole tree, sometimes causing its death in just a few weeks.

How like the opportunistic attacks our spiritual enemy makes upon us! When is his most effective invasion made? When we are, sort of like the tree, in a stressed and weakened condition. We may have weathered the severest of storms without failing. We may have suffered some hardships by “toughing it out.” We may have had a useful, productive life. But during a time that would not seem all that traumatic--weariness, physical weakness, financial stress or whatever--Satan attempts to invade our souls.

He does not frequently come with temptation to those things we would readily recognize as evil, nor is he likely to attack our foundational confidence in Jesus as Savior and Lord. So what does he do? Like the elm beetle, he subtly attacks the inner source of strength, the food-carrying system. He delights in the distractions that interrupt an attitude of attention to God. He insinuates that time spent in prayer or singing or quiet reflection is dispensable. He brings into question our intention and our ability to live the Christian faith. He attempts just to wear us out!

Then in the spiritually weakened condition that results, is it any wonder that all kinds of invaders move in—fear and worry and discouragement and anger and other nasty things—to infect our innermost being? Guard the "food-carrying system" and you will have to worry less about those invaders!

MaryMartha