Satan hates you.
That’s what my friend said to me when I walked in the front door of my apartment, crying because I had a stressful day. It was a day filled with a lot of things that I love to do — ministry, my new internship, a much-anticipated class — but I broke down in tears by the end. There were too many things, too many decisions to make, too many new things to learn, too many details to manage.
I was crushed.
But my friend took me in her arms, let my tears fall onto her shirt, and reminded me: Satan hates me.
He is my enemy, and he seeks to devour me — destroy me from every angle. He hates everything about me — everything good — and especially everything in me that has been redeemed and restored by the grace of Christ.
He hates my involvement in ministry, along with everything that brings me joy. He hates my peace. He hates my dreams. He wants me broken down with despair, hating the things I normally love, fearful, anxious, bitter.
Well, guess what?
He doesn’t win.