Faith Over Chaos

I’ve shared this before, but it’s worth saying again: I have a few children who have walked through addiction, who are still walking through addiction, and who are doing time in prison. And for years, I did what moms do—I turned all that pain inward. I blamed myself. I blamed my mothering, my mistakes, my exhaustion, my absenteeism, the nights I chose work over homework help, the chaos of single motherhood… all of it. Honestly, that whole list could be its own post. Probably its own book.

But here’s the truth I stand in now: I don’t carry that blame anymore. Those shame-soaked thoughts were nailed to the cross with Jesus and left there. I refuse to go back and pick up what He already paid for. I’m done dragging around guilt that was never mine to keep.

What I do want to share today is something I believe we should practice every single day for the people we love—no matter what they’re struggling with. And it’s not nagging them to do better. It’s not lecturing them about how they should act or what they should be doing. We’ve all tried that, and it doesn’t bring life to anyone.

So instead of pouring our energy into what doesn’t work, let’s anchor ourselves in what actually does. Because scripture reminds us that the real battle isn’t even where we think it is. Let’s take a deep dive into Ephesians 6:11-12, because this is where everything shifts.

Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. (NIV)

Can you imagine actually seeing the “powers of this dark world” and the “spiritual forces of evil” playing tug‑of‑war with your loved one—your spouse, your child, your grandbaby? If we could physically see that battle, I don’t think any of us would stay quiet or passive. We’d go full‑on mama bear, teeth bared, holy fire blazing, with a rage that would make any beast cower, shrivel up, and run for its life.

So here we are. The truth of it is right there in black and white: go to battle. And I’m sure you already know the next question… Where exactly is this battlefield?

If the fight is happening in the heavenly realms, how are we supposed to battle something we can’t even see? But here’s the thing—you do see it. You see the fallout of the battle even if you can’t see the battlefield.

You see it in the hidden things your loved one won’t say out loud but you can feel in your bones. You see it in the tension, the arguments, the desperate attempts to “fix” things that somehow fall on deaf ears. You see it in the patterns, the secrecy, the heaviness that hangs in the room even when no one is talking.

And that’s the point: the battle isn’t with them. It’s not with your child. It’s not with your spouse. It’s not with your family member.

It’s that force of evil tugging at them, whispering to them, trying to claim territory that does not belong to it.

So what do we do? We cry out to the Lord. We pray like their life depends on it… because it does. We get on our knees, we pour out our anguish, we let God see every tear and every tremble.

Because the battle is His.

…“For the battle is not yours, but God’s.” — 2 Chronicles 20:15 (NIV)

Yes, I know this verse was spoken to all of Israel as they faced a massive, three‑nation military threat. But honestly—isn’t the threat coming against your loved one even more massive? Even more personal? Even more relentless?

So today, choose to fight the right battle. Drop to your knees, lift those weary hands, and call on the God who fights harder for your family than you ever could. Trade the panic for prayer, the guilt for grace, and the fear for a faith that refuses to back down. Stand firm in the truth that you’re not wrestling with flesh and blood—and you’re definitely not wrestling alone.

Helping you find peace in the garden again— because God leads the battle, not you.

If you’re still carrying the weight, maybe it’s time to ask the questions that help you drop it.

1. Have I been trying to fix what only God can heal?
2. What would shift if I prayed with the same intensity I worry?
3. Where do I feel the tug-of-war most in my home?
4. What does “peace in the garden” look like for me today?
5. What’s one truth I need to declare over my loved one—even if I don’t see it yet?