The devils day off

There’s some days the devil doesn’t lift a finger.

No whisper in the night.

No lurking in the shadows.

He doesn’t even move.

Because he doesn’t have to.

We’re doing his job for him.

We tear each other down in whispers cloaked as concern. We trade in judgment, dress it in righteousness, and call it discernment.

We scroll past cries for help and call it boundaries.

We gossip.

We slander.

We divide.

We bicker while demons laugh,

because unity was the power they feared most.

The devil takes a day off—because our pride is doing just fine without him.

We argue online while our children drown in a culture war. We preach “family values” but won’t forgive our sister.

We sing about grace with raised hands but won’t extend it to the one in the back row

with the trembling hands and bloodshot eyes.

We say “I’m blessed” and mean “I’m better.”

The devil’s day off is not marked on a calendar.

It shows up in quiet churches with no prayer.

It walks through homes where the Bible is unopened. It lingers in the heart of the believer who’s made peace with offense.

It’s the day we forget that we are soldiers.

That we are sons and daughters of a kingdom not built by hands.

That we are called to bind up wounds,

not cause them.

That we are the ones who carry the presence of the Living God— but we’ve grown numb to the weight of it.

It’s a tragedy when the devil attacks.

It’s a greater one when he doesn’t need to.

Because we’ve handed him the weapons.

We’ve stood at the gates of our own cities

and opened the doors.

But here’s the hope—

Revival is still possible.

Even now.

There is a sound rising in the wilderness—

A groan. A cry. A remnant.

A people who will no longer sleep while the battle rages. A people who will lay down pride, pick up the cross, and march into the darkness with the fire of heaven in their bones.

The devil may have taken a day off,

but Heaven has never slumbered.

And God is not shaken.

So rise, watchman.

Take your post again.

Burn the bridges to apathy.

Destroy the altars built to self.

Call your brother. Forgive your sister.

Pray like fire, love like Jesus, and never forget—

Hell trembles at a Church that’s awake.

Let’s give the devil a reason to go back to work.