Spiritual Warfare, Part One: What Is It?

Bottom line upfront: Most of us can’t tell the difference between an attack from the enemy and a hard day. That confusion is costing us. So I want to define spiritual warfare plainly—and then I want your story.

Spiritual warfare can unfold in the middle of ordinary temptation, devastating loss, or quiet spiritual drift. But the hardship itself doesn’t tell us what kind of battle we’re facing.

You’re a pastor. Doctorate finished. Church growing. Happily married with four kids. And you’re inundated with lust for a woman you weren’t looking for—and now she’s pursuing you everywhere you turn.

The ER calls. Your child tried to take their own life because they couldn’t face telling you that... You try to help but they won’t look at you, much less talk to you, as tears stream down their face.

Your ten-year-old meets you at the door. Your spouse took their own life. In one moment, you’re facing devastating grief—and trying to help your child face it, too.

You had the signs. You prayed, maybe fasted. You were sure it was God’s will. Now everything you built for the Kingdom is going up in smoke.

Or nothing dramatic happened at all. You’ve been a believer for forty years. You still go to church. You still give. But you haven’t opened your Bible with any hunger in months, and you’ve stopped expecting God to do anything. Nobody noticed. Including you.

Nobody likes spiritual warfare. Whatever situation you’re in, at the end of the day, it’s just a believer trying to stay faithful while something pulls the other way.

Spiritual warfare is the believer’s struggle to remain faithful to Christ against the devil’s schemes, relying on God’s strength rather than our own.

Three words carry the weight. Faithful—that’s what’s under attack. Schemes—Paul’s word for the devil’s strategies. Strength—God’s strength, and not yours.

Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 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… (Ephesians 6:10–12)

Notice Paul doesn’t describe the enemy’s power, he describes the enemy’s method: Schemes. And schemes always run on lies. Go back through those five scenes I described earlier and look for the lie about God (He’s withholding), a lie about you (you’re disqualified), or a lie about whether staying faithful is still worth it.

The crucial thing to remember though is Christ has already won the decisive battle. Your job is not to win whatever battle you are facing. Your job is to stand in a victory that has already been won by Christ.

Our lit review pulled 80 studies on how evangelicals actually live out spiritual warfare. The clearest finding shows that the same belief helps or harms depending on how it’s used. In the studies of believers with depression, when a church told them their illness was a demon, prayed over them instead of getting them help, and then shamed them when it didn’t lift, the result was stigma, and people walking away from care. When the same believers held the spiritual battle alongside ordinary help, it gave them meaning, a reason to keep praying, and a community that stayed.

Our struggle is not against flesh and blood. People are not the enemy. Your rebellious kid is not the enemy. Your spouse is not. The elder or board member who voted against you is not. And not every setback is demonic. Some of it is illness, a bad decision, or life in a broken world. If you see Satan behind every flat tire, you won’t recognize him when he actually shows up.

So how do you tell? Look at what’s under attack. A flat tire costs an afternoon. Spiritual warfare goes after your trust in God, your grip on truth, and your will to keep doing right. If it’s pushing you toward resentment instead of love, compromise instead of faithfulness, quitting instead of persevering—that’s the fight.  It’s where you need God’s help.

At the Center for Scripture Absorption, we have measured almost everything about how people engage the Bible. We have never studied spiritual warfare in the lives of ordinary believers. I can’t do that from a research office. I need the people who have been in the fight.

Tell me your story. What did the battle look like? How did you know it was spiritual and not just hard? What held you? If you’re still in it, say so. Whether you write three sentences or three pages, simply email me at arnie.cole@bttb.org.  Your name will never be attached.

Your stories will shape the next two Sundays and become the first real study of spiritual warfare this ministry has ever done. If you’re over 50, I especially need you. You have scars nobody else has, and the generation behind you needs to know what standing looks like.

Next Sunday I’ll talk about the two schemes that take out more believers than anything else—deception and discouragement. Until then—stand strong.

All in, eyes up!

P.S. On Spiritually Fit Today this week I talk with stroke survivor Douglas Vandergraph who will share his story of illness, and the surprising strength found in surrender.