One year ago, during a quiet drive, I had a realization that left me speechless. I wrote about it then, but tonight—on another drive—it hit me again. Except this time, it felt deeper. Clearer. More urgent.
While praying in the stillness of the evening, God brought back a vivid image I’d seen at the Gettysburg museum. It was a depiction of a vast army—row upon row of soldiers, shoulder to shoulder, disciplined and determined. There was weight and purpose in that formation. Power. Unity. It wasn’t just a moment in history—it was a glimpse into the spiritual realm.
In that moment of prayer, I began crying out for the same thing I did a year ago: for God’s angel armies to come and fight for me.
Lately, the weight I’ve been carrying has felt heavier than usual. Anxiety has crept in more than I’d like to admit. I’ve found myself in desperate prayer again—this time not just for my own heart, but for so many people I love. I’ve prayed through tears for breakthrough in my family. I’ve interceded for friends walking through battles with physical sickness, mental health, and even spiritual fatigue. (You know who you are—I’ve prayed for you by name.) I’ve begged for healing over bodies that doctors have called “uncertain.” I’ve asked for clarity where confusion lives, and provision where finances have fallen short. I've cried out unsure if I was even seeing heard.
These aren’t just quiet prayers anymore. They’ve become battle cries.
And in the middle of those cries, that image returns: God has armies. Not just a single unit. Not a backup plan. Armies.
Thousands upon thousands of heavenly warriors, ready to fight—for you. For me. For the things that keep us up at night. For the wounds no one else sees. For the heartbreak we feel. For the trauma of our past. For the future story we have yet to wrote. For all the big and little things. He has armies ready to fight.
Think about this: when an earthly commander sends out troops, he never deploys the entire force for one person. That would be foolish. Strategic suicide. But God? God sees one child crying out—and sends the entire force.
Not because He’s careless.
Because He’s limitless.
He doesn’t have to conserve strength. He doesn’t ration attention. He doesn’t weigh our battles to see if they’re “big enough” to care about or if they are a big enough threat to worry about. God doesn't have to balance the risk to reward ration like an earthy commander does.
He fights for us like we’re the only ones in the world. Like our struggle is the largest threat in the universe.
“The Lord of Heaven’s Armies is here among us; the God of Israel is our fortress.”
—Psalm 46:7 (NLT)
That verse—the Lord of Heaven’s Armies—it’s not poetic fluff. It’s a declaration. The same God who split the sea, tore down Jericho’s walls, and rose from the grave is the God commanding angels to surround us right now. He's the sake God sending armies to fight enemies that we didn't even know where getting ready to ambush us.
And that thought fills me with peace. Not because the battles suddenly disappear. But because I don’t have to fight them alone. I know i can call on my Commanding Officer with immediate defenses at my side.
These past couple year has been full of both heartbreak and healing. There have been prayers I’m still waiting on, and others God has already answered in ways that leave me stunned. One friend got a diagnosis that turned into a testimony. Another found hope in the middle of emotional chaos. Provision showed up exactly when it was needed. And in all of it—God was near.
If you’re carrying something today—whether it’s worry, sickness, heartbreak, or just the quiet weight of wondering if God sees you—please don’t fight it alone. You don’t have to.
Invite His angel armies into your battle.
Ask Him to cover your life, your people, your heart.
Let Him do what only He can do.
You are not alone. You are not unseen. You are not unprotected.
God fights for you like you're worth everything—because to Him, you are.
