There were days the Storm felt loud.
Energetically loud.
Psychologically loud.
Relationally loud.
If you’ve ever walked through what feels like spiritual warfare, you’ll know the sensation — the pressure, the destabilisation, the attempt to disorient.
And yet, every morning my alarm still went off.
The kids still needed lunches.
Shoes still needed finding.
Work still required showing up.
And I realised something important:
The storm wanted chaos.
So I answered with order.
While everything felt like it was shaking on the inside, I held the line on the outside.
School drop-offs.
Work commitments.
Dinner on the table.
Bedtime routines.
Not perfectly.
But consistently.
Routine became my anchor.
Faith was my sword.
Structure was my shield.
Because here’s what I understood — if I “won” spiritually but let my day-to-day life collapse… what exactly would I have won?
There is a narrative that says you must burn everything down to fight darkness.
I don’t subscribe to that.
I believe in integration.
I believe in protecting your home while you pray for the world.
There are good people trying to change everything out there — but neglecting what’s in here. That imbalance doesn’t feel like victory to me.
The targeting often aims to fracture your stability. To exhaust you. To destabilise your relationships. To disrupt your peace.
Routine is resistance.
Showing up anyway is resistance.
Maintaining structure when chaos tries to enter is quiet power.
And alongside that structure? Faith.
Prayer.
Discernment.
Refusal to agree with fear.
Returning my nervous system to calm again and again.
And sometimes, holding the line looked far less dramatic than prayer.
It looked like clipping the lead onto the dog and walking him along the beach.
Sunlight on my face.
Sand beneath my feet.
Breath steady.
Movement metabolises stress.
Nature recalibrates perspective.
Routine reminds the body that it is safe.
There is something profoundly stabilising about a loyal animal beside you and the rhythm of your own footsteps.
Spiritual warfare can feel energetic.
But grounding is physical.
And if the body feels safe, the mind is less susceptible to chaos.
Spiritual warfare isn’t dramatic every day.
Sometimes it looks like packing lunches while refusing to collapse.
And that, too, is mastery.
What helped me hold the line:
Morning prayer before touching my phone
Keeping commitments even when I didn’t feel like it
Physical movement to regulate emotion
Protecting sleep
Refusing isolation
Dancing in the shower to EDM music- because I’ve always done that
Maintaining a sense of humour, albeit a darker version.
- Holding the Line: Why Routine Saved Me During Spiritual Warfare
- When Tarot Helped Me Survive Spiritual Warfare — As a Follower of Jesus
- Withdrawing Consent from Corrupt Power Structures: Illusion Collapses When We Stop Participating. Faith, Sovereignty & the Rise of the Divine Masculine and Feminine
- The Rise of the Divine Masculine
- Why the Divine Feminine Must Master Her Darkness to Ascend
