From Warfare to Rest

Before we step further into this series, I want to encourage you to revisit the earlier post where we talked about Ephesians 6. The Surprising Truth About Spiritual Warfare lays the foundation for how we approach this topic. Today we are taking the next step, moving deeper into what spiritual warfare truly looks like and how we begin to live from a place of rest rather than reaction. What follows is not a shift into new information, but an unfolding of what the Spirit has already been teaching us about identity, presence, and the victory of Jesus.

So much of what we have been taught about spiritual warfare begins with resisting the enemy, yet Scripture gives us a very different order. James writes, “Submit yourselves to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” The first movement of warfare is not away from darkness. It is toward God. Resistance only holds power when it flows from nearness. Everything starts with who we are in Christ and where we are seated with Him. When we draw near to God, our heart comes back into alignment with truth. Fear loses its voice. Anxiety loses influence. The enemy loses access not because we confront him, but because we have stepped into a place he cannot enter.

Warfare is not the effort we exert but the position we hold. The enemy is not intimidated by our striving. He is intimidated by our identity. He knows that when we remember who we are, his lies lose their power. When we stay in our true position, seated with Christ, we stay in a victory he cannot overturn. Resistance then becomes the natural overflow of confidence, not a strategy born from fear. True warfare is not about engaging the enemy. True warfare is about remaining in the reality of who the Father has already declared us to be. It is choosing proximity with Jesus over panic about what the enemy may do. When you turn toward the Father, you are not preparing for battle. You are stepping into the place where victory already lives. And from that place, the enemy flees.

Understanding this brings clarity to something many believers struggle with. A great deal of modern warfare teaching encourages Christians to study the enemy, analyse patterns, anticipate attacks, and stay one step ahead of darkness. The intention may be good, but the outcome is often harmful. Studying the enemy shapes an internal world of vigilance and fear. Instead of stay in identity, we start standing in reaction. Instead of being led by peace, we become driven by suspicion. We live as though darkness has more influence than it actually does.

But Scripture never calls us to become familiar with the enemy. It calls us to become familiar with Jesus. It never instructs us to build expertise in darkness. It instructs us to build confidence in the Light. “Fix your eyes on Jesus.” When our gaze drifts to what the enemy is doing, our spirit becomes unsettled. But when our gaze rests on who Jesus is, discernment rises effortlessly. Discernment does not come from studying darkness. Discernment is the fruit of abiding in the Father. The Spirit reveals what needs to be seen, and light exposes darkness without effort. When the heart remains near the Father, anything that opposes Him becomes obvious simply because it does not align with His voice, His nature, or His peace.

With this clarity in place, we can finally see spiritual warfare for what it truly is. Warfare is not a constant battle with darkness. It is not a life spent anticipating attack or analysing spiritual threats. Warfare is the spiritual reality of remaining in Christ and standing in the truth of what He has already finished. It is alignment. It is the steady return of the heart to the Father until truth becomes the place we live from. Every time you choose truth over accusation, peace over panic, forgiveness over resentment, or rest over fear, you are engaging in warfare. Not because you are fighting darkness, but because you are refusing to leave the place of victory Jesus has already secured for you.

This is why the postures of standing, leaning, and resting reveal so much about spiritual maturity. These postures are not about performance. They are about the heart’s relationship with Father God. Standing is where many begin. It is the place of early stability, where you learn to recognise truth and remember who you are. When Paul wrote to the Ephesian church, he told them to stand, not because standing was the height of maturity, but because it was the posture they were ready for. They were new believers, still discovering their identity. Standing helped them hold the ground Jesus had already won.

But standing often carries tension. It can feel alert, braced, and guarded. It can carry the weight of self-protection. Standing is good, but it is not the destination. As identity begins to settle deeper, standing gives way to leaning. Leaning is where trust begins to form. It is where you shift the weight of your life onto Jesus. It is where your understanding gives way to His wisdom. Proverbs says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” Leaning is where fear starts to lose its grip because you are learning to rest against the One who carries you.

In leaning, you begin to realise that you are not in a battlefield trying to gain ground. You are already in conquered territory. Jesus has disarmed the enemy and seated you with Him. Yet the heart, still learning, may lean on Jesus while glancing around with old instincts of vigilance. Not afraid, but not fully at ease. This softness is holy. It is the place where your guard begins to lower because you see that your safety is not held by your watchfulness, but by His presence.

Leaning prepares you for rest. And rest is the posture of spiritual maturity. Rest is not the absence of awareness. It is the presence of confidence. It is where your heart finally reclines into Jesus the way John rested against His chest, hearing the heartbeat of the One who holds all things together. Rest is intimacy. It is where fear dissolves because love has taken its place.

In rest, your back turns toward the enemy. Not in ignorance but in confidence. You sit at the table the Father prepares for you in the presence of your enemy, as Psalm 23 declares. You feast. You are nourished. You enjoy what the Father has set before you. The enemy may watch, but he cannot touch. His presence cannot threaten you because your life is hidden in Christ. Rest is not passive. It is enthroned authority. It is the place where you know your seat cannot be taken from you.

This is why the enemy’s only strategy is to draw you out of rest. He cannot overpower you. He can only distract you. He tries to lure you away from the table, away from the chest of Jesus, away from the posture where his voice holds no power. Because in rest, he is powerless.

When the heart settles into rest, peace becomes the ruler of your inner world. “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts.” Peace stops being a momentary feeling and becomes the governing force of your life. Isaiah says God keeps in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast because they trust in Him. Perfect peace is not something you gain by striving. It is something you experience by staying. When fear tries to speak, rest answers with confidence. When lies whisper, rest counters with truth. When pressure rises, rest anchors you again in Jesus.

In rest, discernment becomes clearer. The noise is gone. The Spirit’s voice becomes unmistakable. In rest, the enemy loses access. He cannot enter the place where you are hidden in Christ. He cannot overshadow the table set before you. He cannot compete with the presence you are abiding in. His only hope is to tempt you to stand up from the table, to leave the posture of confidence. But when you remain seated, when you remain reclined upon Jesus, when you hold your place at the feast, he is rendered powerless.

Rest becomes your strength. Rest becomes your warfare. Rest becomes the way you live.

As you breathe and let these truths settle, I want to speak this blessing over you. May the God of peace, the One who has already disarmed every power of darkness, steady your heart and establish your steps. May you remember that you are seated with Christ, hidden in Him, covered by His victory, and held in His rest. May His peace rule your heart. May His presence become the place your soul returns to each day. May fear lose its power. May every whisper of darkness fall silent. May you remain at the table He prepared for you, even in the presence of your enemies.

You are held.

You are covered.

You are safe.

You are His.