Don't think I didn't feel you hovering over me with a smug grin on your face last night. You thought you were winning, and for a moment in time, you had me convinced you were. But this morning, when I woke up, it was I with the smug grin, because in that moment, I knew you had been defeated.
You see, last night, when that comedian took the stage, and started ranting and raving over all the usual things that comedians rant and rave over (drugs, sex, alcohol, women, race, social class), I was furious. How dare you walk on in here and express yourself so blatantly. But it wasn't very long before I heard the self-proclaimed funny man say, "Ooh, you guys are touchy," and "Does it bother you when I tell icky jokes or swear? Okay, I'll go back to the PG stuff." Why would he backtrack like that? See, that's where you started to lose control, where your grasp wasn't quite as tight, because not everyone in the room revelled in the filth that you were handing them. Not everyone laughed or smirked or chuckled like you thought they should. No, not this time. Did you sense how unimpressed some of the people in the room were? Did you sense their disappointment? Did you feel mine?
So now, I'm not asking politely, not suggesting or encouraging, no, I'm flat out commanding that you get out of here. Slink away in embarrassment with your tail between your legs because you know full well you cannot win here. You're powerless. And don't bother coming back to fight again because the same result will be before you. You'll always be handed your defeat.
God holds this place, Satan, not you. And there are prayers going up all over the place. It is sacred ground with a set-aside people, and try as you may, you cannot beat us, win us over, or trick us in the least. So, get back. Get out of the way. And know that God's team always wins.
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