Praying to God Our Warrior
Even having grown up in the Church and understanding the fundamentals of the Trinity, it wasn’t until I was introduced to a book by Pastor Tony Evans (The Power of God’s Names) that I began to learn about all of the names of God. I don’t mean Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. I mean the expansive list of Hebrew names that God himself used to describe different attributes of his own power, character, and identity throughout Scripture. Most stem from or are compounded with his Hebrew name we know best (used 6,519 times in the Old Testament), Yahweh, or translated into English, Jehovah, meaning “I AM who I AM” (Exodus 3:14). Here are a few of my favorites to use when calling out to God for specific prayers:
Jehovah Rapha - The Lord Who Heals
Jehovah Jireh - The Lord Our Provider
Jehovah Shalom - The Lord Our Peace
Jehovah Tsaba - The Lord Our Warrior
Jehovah Tsaba – The Lord Our Warrior
1 Samuel 17:45-47
Every day of my husband’s twelve in the ICU felt like war. Each morning I’d wake, dress, and stare into the bathroom mirror thinking, “I can’t quit fighting.” Walking into that hospital felt like walking onto a battlefield with prayer as my only weapon. Little did I know, the battle was just beginning.
Now three years past his death, I can tell you that every day without him continues to be a battle. Sometimes I’m fighting exhaustion. Sometimes fear. Sometimes anger. Sometimes I’m fighting for hope for a future that was so suddenly erased. Every day, every year, may look different, but the path of widowhood feels like war – a mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual war without end.
But what if I told you, it’s war that’s already been won? What if I told you that the thing that you fear most about your life right now isn’t up to you to overcome? What if I told you, “in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Romans 8:37)?
I remember reading that passage and physically exhaling, as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted off my grieving shoulders. In a sweet whisper from the Holy Spirit, I was reminded, Jesus doesn’t expect me to win my own battles. He’s not disappointed that I can’t handle the sorrow and struggles of grief on my own. He’s not surprised that I’m lying in the middle of the battlefield weeping. I am more than the conqueror of my own story because Jesus has already conquered my pains and sins and sorrows on the cross once and for all.
As we battle each day, each season of life after loss, we have the ultimate warrior, Jehovah Tsaba, fighting for us. I think of Gideon, the young man whom God called to fight a massive army with just 300 men. I think of David, a teenager who defeated a barbaric giant with a slingshot. I think of Joshua who took down the towering walls of Jericho with nothing but prayers and trumpets. None of these men had what they needed to win the impossible battles before them. But they surrendered and submitted and called out to Jehovah Tsaba, God our Warrior, whose power and sovereignty is the only weapon we ultimately need.
The fight against sorrow and despair is impossible to win on your own. But you have access to the ultimate warrior, the eternal conqueror, Jesus Christ. Call on him for the strength, endurance, hope, faith, and trust you need. Hand over your battles to him and stand in awe of the mighty victories he will work in your life.