My young family had found a rhythm in our new town, but I was struggling. Some of my kids were also struggling – with social anxiety, with panic, and even night terrors.

Whenever I stepped into the community, I could feel the smothering oppression and the overwhelming darkness. Even in our home, I could physically feel the presence of evil. I knew that this level of stress, disorientation, and fear had the potential to undo me. My strategies of pushing through, distracting myself, or longer quiet times were not working. I was desperate for the light to burn brighter. Not the light hanging from the fixture, but God’s light that shines in the darkness reflected in me. I needed peace in my heart and in my home. 

As I tended to my kids, I stumbled onto something that quieted our hearts: worship. The worship I discovered with my kids was different from just humming along to the music in my head or tickling my ears with the radio. I chose songs that declared the promises of God, spoke truth to the lies we were facing, and made His name great, reminding ourselves of Who stood with us in the darkness. As I sang the words, “Hosanna in the highest,” I remembered that I was singing that the Lord saves in the highest heaven. He saves us in the heavens and on earth. These songs touched my very spirit. Whenever we found ourselves overcome by fear, suspicion, or anxiety, we turned on the music and exalted the name of the LORD. 

Soon, I noticed a change. My house became a place of peace. My body and the bodies of my kids calmed down. As I went about my jobs in the community, I found myself dwelling in the refuge of the Lord. I even got to a point where I was not distracted nor terrified by feeling the evil in my home or community anymore. Like Jehoshaphat and the people of Judah (2 Chronicles 20), my kids and I had been given courage to stand, a reminder of Who stood with us, and a purpose as we went about our day.