The Lord is My Defender

The Lord is My Defender

The Lord Is My Defender

Have you ever had a season where nothing is necessarily wrong, but everything just feels… heavy? Lately, life has felt exactly like that for me. Not because of one big, overwhelming thing, but because of the everyday busyness, the constant noise, and the feeling that there’s always something to do, fix, or figure out. It’s the kind of stress that doesn’t always show on the outside, but you feel it the moment things get quiet. It follows you into the car and shows up the second your head hits the pillow, when your mind starts running through everything. What you need to do, what you might be forgetting, what could go wrong… and somehow, even when you’re doing your best, it still feels like you’re one step behind.

Maybe you know that feeling too. And to be honest, the more I try to hold everything together, the more I feel myself wearing down. 

But in the middle of it all, I’ve been coming back to Jesus. Not perfectly, just intentionally. And every time I do, something shifts. Not because everything around me suddenly changes, but because something in me does. I’m reminded that I don’t have to carry everything the way I’ve been trying to.

The other morning, I was driving to work listening to worship music, and a song came on that I had never heard before—Defender by Francesca Battistelli and Steffany Gretzinger. As I listened, tears just started falling. The message is simple but powerful: God goes before us. Before we even know what we’re walking into, He is already there. He’s already fighting battles we don’t see and working in ways we could never plan.

“You go before I know that You’ve even gone to win my war.”

That line stayed with me. Because if the Lord truly goes before me, then I don’t have to live like everything depends on me catching up.

Another part of the song says, “All I did was praise… all I did was stay still,” and to be honest, staying still is hard. Our instinct is to do more, think more, plan more, and try harder. But Scripture calls us to something different. Psalm 46:10 says, “Be still, and know that I am God.” That’s not just a nice idea, it’s an invitation to stop striving long enough to remember who is actually in control. Peace doesn’t come from having all the answers. It comes from trusting the One who already does.

There’s a story in 2 Kings chapter 6 that I love. 

When the servant of the man of God rose early in the morning and went out, behold, an army with horses and chariots was all around the city. And the servant said, “Alas, my master! What shall we do?” He said, “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” Then Elisha prayed and said, “O Lord, please open his eyes that he may see.” So the Lord opened the eyes of the young man, and he saw, and behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.” (2 Kings 6:15-17)

Elisha’s servant wakes up one morning and sees an entire army surrounding them. Horses, chariots, and no way out. He panics, and honestly, I would have too. Because that’s what life feels like sometimes. Everything is closing in, the problem is right in front of you, and it’s too big to ignore.

But Elisha doesn’t panic. He says, “Do not be afraid, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them,” and then he prays, not for the situation to change, but for the servant’s eyes to be opened. And suddenly, everything shifts. Not the circumstances, but his perspective. God opens his eyes, and he sees that the hills are full of horses and chariots of fire. God’s army had already surrounded them. God was already there, already covering them, already defending them.

That part has stayed with me, because nothing about the situation changed, but everything about what he could see did. And it makes me think about how often I do the same thing. How many times do I spiral over things God has already gone before me in? How many nights do I lie awake trying to solve problems that were never mine to solve?

Maybe the problem isn’t always what’s around us, but what we can’t see. We’re so aware of the deadlines, the uncertainty, and all the “what ifs” that could go wrong, and it’s easy to let those things take over our thoughts. But what we don’t always see is that God is already there. He is already in tomorrow, already in the conversation you’re worried about, already in the outcome you’re trying so hard to control. He sees the conversations we don’t hear, He knows what’s going on behind the scenes, and nothing catches Him off guard. 

He isn’t reacting to your life. He is already ahead of it.

You need trust in the One who is already in control. Exodus 14:14 says, “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” That’s where real peace begins, when you actually start living like that’s true.

I love the picture Elisha’s story gives us. The idea that even when I feel overwhelmed, I am not actually surrounded by problems, but by the presence of God. That He is my defender, not just in the big battles, but in the everyday stress, the unknowns, and the quiet pressures that weigh on me. He is already in the places I haven’t even stepped into yet, already working in ways I cannot see, and already holding what I’ve been trying so hard to carry.

If life feels heavy right now, if your mind won’t slow down, or if you feel like you’re carrying more than you were meant to, here’s the reminder: you don’t have to do everything. You don’t have to fix everything. You don’t have to fight every battle. God already goes before you. He already knows what you’re facing, and He is already defending you.

This week, instead of trying to hold it all together, try something different. Pause, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Sit with Him, turn off the noise, and stop rehearsing every possible outcome. 

Let go of the need to control what hasn’t even happened yet, and be still. Because the peace you’re looking for isn’t found in doing more, but in remembering who is fighting for you.

And as you sit with Him this week, let your prayer be simple: Lord, let Your will be done in my life, guide my steps. When you begin to pray that, and truly mean it, you can live with a different kind of confidence. Not because you have all the answers, but because you trust that whatever the outcome is, it’s in His hands.

I don’t know about you, but I want to be exactly who God has called me to be. I want to live the life He has planned for me, not the one I try to control on my own. And the more I pray, the more I’m reminded that I don’t have to figure everything out ahead of time. If I’m seeking Him and surrendering to His will, I can trust that He is the one guiding my steps.

And in that, there is peace. Because He goes before me, He is already there, and I am never walking through any of this alone.

He is my defender.

Purpose In the Pain

Purpose In the Pain

Romans 5:3-5 “Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”

Have you ever walked through a season that felt like it was breaking you? Maybe you’re carrying heartbreak, grieving a loss, battling anxiety, or waiting on something that feels like it will never come. Maybe life just feels heavy, confusing, or unfair right now. I’ve been there. I used to think rejoicing in suffering was impossible. How could pain and joy ever coexist? But Romans 5:3–5 tells a different story. It reminds us that there is purpose in the pain, growth through endurance, and a hope that never disappoints.

In August 2019, during my senior year of college, my life changed in an instant. I had a seizure out of nowhere. I was a healthy student-athlete with no prior health issues, so this came as a complete shock. After an MRI scan, my doctor called with news that changed everything. They had found a tumor on the left side of my temporal lobe. I was confused, sad, angry, and filled with fear.

I was immediately put on seizure medication and went back to school to finish out my senior year like nothing had happened. School was extremely difficult, and I was trying to navigate through my new “normal”. The seizures continued, and the medication wasn’t enough to control them. It was scary, frustrating, and deeply isolating.

Over time, I pressed into the Lord like I never had before. My days were filled with Christian books, podcasts, worship music, and the word of God. His presence in my life became so obvious and He revealed that this season wasn’t meaningless. I couldn’t completely understand it yet, but the more I sought the Kingdom, the more I knew He was doing something in me.

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24 This verse became an anchor in my everyday life: During that season, I was living in the unknown, but I came to learn that each day was a gift, a day the Lord had made. I chose happiness every single morning and I decided I wasn’t going to waste my time worrying about when the next seizure might come. Instead, I was going to rejoice, knowing that He was in control. And if a seizure did happen, I trusted that He had allowed it and that it was part of His plan.

I don’t know what you’re walking through right now, what your storm looks like, but I can promise you that your pain has a purpose. It’s not meaningless or random because God uses the hardest seasons to shape us into who we were called to be, and He is with you every step of the way, providing you with everything you need to endure.

In October 2020, my family and I decided I would have brain surgery on February 11th, 2021, to remove the tumor, hoping the seizures would stop. I was terrified, but I also felt an unexplainable peace that this was the right decision. From October to February leading up to the surgery, I continued to seek the Kingdom. It didn’t make the tears disappear, there were still some really hard days, but I was also filled with joy. A joy that only God could have given me.

The day of my surgery had arrived and as I was being rolled away, I saw the sunrise over the whole city of Chicago. I’ve always felt God’s presence most in sunrises and sunsets, and in that moment, I knew He was there with me. It felt like He had painted that one just for me, a reminder that I wasn’t alone. His peace washed over me in a way I can’t fully explain. I smiled, because I knew it was Him, and I knew I was going to be okay. “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” Psalm 23:4

The surgery was successful. The doctors removed the tumor, and by the grace of God, I haven’t had a single seizure since. The healing wasn’t just physical, it was spiritual, emotional, and deeply personal. Through that journey, I learned that faith doesn’t mean life will be easy. It means trusting His plan when you can’t see the outcome. Every day became an opportunity to keep showing up and believing that God was still good, even in the suffering.

This trial revealed what was really inside me, and God began transforming my heart. My faith became genuine. It was no longer based on what I could see or control, but on who God is. Character is formed in the fire, not in the calm. And though I would have never chosen this path, I began to thank God for using it to make me more like Him.

Looking back, I am extremely grateful for that season of suffering. Sounds crazy, I know. But what God did inside of me, changed my life completely, in the best way possible. I live my life very differently than I did 6 years ago and that is great news. I have seen the goodness of God, and I truly believe with my whole heart no matter what comes my way, God allowed it. He doesn’t make mistakes, and He doesn’t forget about us. So, if He allowed it, I know it is all part of His bigger plan and His plan is always perfect. “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28

True hope doesn’t come from circumstances; it comes from God Himself. This kind of hope doesn’t disappoint because it’s anchored in who God is, not in what life looks like. I was once filled with confusion, sadness, anger, and fear, yet God turned those emotions into gratitude, joy, and a peace that surpassed all understanding.

If you’re walking through something heavy right now, know this: God is not absent in your pain. He is present in it, and your suffering is not wasted. Let Him work in the waiting and use this time to strengthen your faith. He is a God that turns pain into purpose, fear into faith, and waiting into worship. Even in the middle of suffering, He is faithful, and His love will never leave you. “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

Reflection Question: What if your current trial isn’t breaking you, but building you? How might that change the way you walk through it?