I Don't Know their names

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places.”
Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.
Stand therefore, having girded your waist with truth, having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod on your feet the preparation of the gospel of peace; above all taking the shield of faith which is able to quench all of the fiery darts of the wicked one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the Sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God;
(Ephesians 6:12-17)

I don’t know their names.
I believe God has forbidden them
from whispering their actual names
into the ears of believers.
still they spew their venom,
when I have raised myself from the sanctuary of prayer.
when recent brokenness has become a barrier,
and I choose to press my hands into my own feeble ones
instead of giving the wounds to my Lord.
there are the hisses of the lost angelic host
“How many times has the Lord allowed your hopes to be crushed?”
Uninvited, lingering jeers.
“Too long. God openly mocks you.” I’ve seen the stain of tears."
Any spaces between God’s love and mine
peril my faith
God forbids it
they lurk in the doorways
of my soul, uninvited,
lingering creatures
waiting for the fire of first love
to die down,
when praise and prayer
have cooled
searching for that open window to crawl through

they diabolically search for the spaces
between my heart and God’s
when I pull away in disappointment
when prayers are worn down inside me
and the words, the implorings and the pleadings
and the tears and mucous have dried
on these walls of my faith.
when I feel the abandonment
bleed in urging for You.
and the answers are not forthcoming
when my longing is knotted
and cannot be untied
from the expectations
I have placed upon You.
when I have perceived
Your Voice to come from another
source,
I become lost in that hollow echo
I have created from my need.
the enemies speak rationally
skillfully and thoughtfully
I know I should reject
the words weaved
from their crooked tongues
tangled
and spun
from the incincerated
ashes of the fallen ones.
when they say, I should no
longer trust You.
that You only openly mock me
in prayer,
that my tears You do not
see
that You are indifferent.
to my struggles
their bizarre voices
rise up in a cacophony
of death
I don’t know their names
that is unimportant
they wrestle for audience
in me

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