Maybe remove the armour

I had a disturbing dream last night, it was one of those ones where you wake up perspiring. I woke to an unsettled heart and while I knew I could just pray and go back to sleep, I didn’t, I documented it and stayed up meditating on it, it was particularly more disturbing cause I’ve had a series of same related dream this year, each time, just as disturbing.

The dreams have been around the current political climate in Nigeria, for anyone not Nigerian, you might or might not be aware that we’re electing a new president by February next year and unlike most election periods, this particular one seems much more intense due to the series of events that have happened in Nigeria in the last few years. Tension is high, there’s been a lot of unrest due to the insecurity issues and downturn of the economy. This explains the zeal for a new and better government, that’ll hopefully provide good enough leadership to move us closer to the Nigeria of our dreams.

I meditated for over 3 hours, got a bit distracted here and there but my mind and heart was still on the dream and the related ones in the last months.

After a while, I finally found the courage to open my mouth and pray, to stop my mind from wandering, and as I did, the tears came pouring like a broken tap with much pressure.

I think my heart was just overwhelmed and while I fully knew that it was very much spiritual and I needed to stand as a soldier and enforce and declare what God has said concerning Nigeria and what we want to see, I honestly couldn’t find the strength or zest to pray in warfare as I should.

So I cried some more.

As I cried, I told Abba that I know I’ve come as a soldier to my chief commander, but as I can’t find the strength, I just want to be child to my father now. It might seem weird but in the realm of the spirit (or maybe even in my mind), I saw myself removing an armour and climbing into my fathers laps.

I couldn’t find the strength to be a mighty warrior this morning, so I chose to be a needy baby and My Father didn’t mind. I sat there and I just cried. I told Him how tired and exhausting this all is, I told Him that I’m one person in a Nigeria of 209 million people, I told Him that the dreams were a lot and this one weighs my heart down so much cause it hits so close to home.

Abba listened. He didn’t rush me out to wear my armour back or tell me not to allow the enemy see my tears. He let me pour out my heart, then He wiped my tears and repositioned my lens to see His perspective, He is still showing it to me, but before I left my secret place this morning, I wore back that armour, reminding myself of the reality of my stance; not as a soldier uncertain as to the outcome of a battle, but as one fully convinced of the end of this matter, before it even started.

I made intercession and supplication, but I also made my confessions and declarations and before I left, I had every certainty that I was stronger, maybe because I was weak first.

I’m not entirely sure the main point of this post, but if you take anything away, take away the fact that it’s okay if the armour gets heavy and the sword seems blunt, go back to Abba’s arms, He’ll wipe the tears and comfort your heart before He resumes as chief captain of the army and redresses you to head back into war.

Amidst my tears of today, I end the day knowing that this ends well.

Glory to God for the privilege to partner with Him to see it done on earth as it is in heaven.

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