When the Enemy Fears Your Future

So much has happened lately. When I look back over the last month—especially these past two weeks, with us now fully living in two different places—I know how easily I could get pulled into the chaos. I could soak up the sadness, let it cover me like mud. But I heard a line the other day that stuck: “Don’t wrestle with pigs—you’ll both get muddy, and only the pigs will enjoy it.”

The older I get, the more that makes sense. And through it all, Jesus keeps pulling me in and holding me close. I’m surprised by how much others have to say about it… and by the snake-like behavior I’ve seen. Maybe I shouldn’t be.

It’s strange—almost wild—how in the moments that should feel the most confusing and difficult, everything becomes so clear. My discernment is sharper than ever, and not just mine, but my children’s too. After years of trying to shield them from certain truths—painful as they were—they now see them for what they are… all on their own. But it’s different. They see with God’s heart and His eyes, and that changes everything. They can navigate the schemes in ways I never could have explained. Some things are meant to be seen in God’s timing, and I guess this is one of them.

I believe this happens when God is about to pour out something good in your life—when blessings are on the horizon. That’s when the enemy sends in distractions. He’ll use people who don’t want you to have those blessings, who are jealous of the good headed your way. They’ll fight to keep you in their orbit, manipulating and twisting things to pull you back. It’s the enemy’s way—using them to plant doubt, to make you question who you are, and to steal your hope. Before you know it, you’re battling lies instead of resting in Jesus’ promises. My husband and I know this battle well. We’ve both survived narcissistic parents, and while we each handle it differently, we’ve learned to see the enemy’s hand behind it.

I’ve healed a lot over the years. I’ve talked with so many people—young and old. I’ve sat through every kind of therapy, sought help from doctors, read stacks of books, listened to countless podcasts, and kept talking and writing about these things. Through it all, I have prayed and never stopped. Jesus has kept my heart soft toward the ones who hurt me, even as He’s strengthened my armor. He has covered my children in His grace and protection forever—and nothing in this world matters more to me than their souls. Somewhere along the way, I learned that some things simply cannot be changed. I made peace with the apology I would never receive a long time ago. J’s story is different—one that isn’t mine to tell. I will say this: he prefers to just keep moving. And so, we do.

I’ll end this part by saying how deeply grateful I am for everything I’ve been through. I never thought I’d say that. Perspective, reframing, time—call it what you want—in the end, I am thankful.

I grew up hidden away in a dark basement. I hated myself—not because of anything I said or did—but because of what I was made to believe about what others did to me. What was said. What was done.

But today, you’d never know that unless I told you. I smile and laugh. I’m healthy and I praise Jesus every single day. I’m strong and confident. I face challenges head-on, and I’m smart. I have close friends and bonds I can trust. I have a small circle of “family” that I know is safe.

And I have love and passions I never dreamed I would experience. It’s proof that it’s absolutely possible not just to come out the other side, but to break through it—better than ever. Even when life is hard, even when “those people” do what they do—you are HIS, and that will never change.

Silhouette of a mother and daughter holding hands while facing a sunset.

The Dream That Defeated Fear

I want to share a story—one I don’t tell lightly. If you’ve ever dealt with a narcissistic parent, you might understand.

My dream was always to be a mother. That was it. Simple. I just wanted to be what I always wanted to have. But my biggest fear in this entire world was having a daughter.

What if my daughter and I turned into my mother and me? That thought haunted me.

When I found out I was having a girl, I prayed over our relationship every chance I could. She’s my second-born, and if you know anything about second-borns, you know they can be a handful—and she did not disappoint. The pregnancy was a nightmare, and the first five months of her life, I was in and out of the hospital—sick and exhausted. I had very little help. It felt like no one had any interest in her life… or mine.

She was a good baby—until she hit nine months. Then she came alive—wild, untamed—like a rabid animal in the most fierce, determined way. Something in me, even then, knew that fire was a gift. She needed it. She was like a wild horse running along a rugged coast… or maybe a roaring lion. Either way, I didn’t want to be the one to break her spirit. I admired it. But she gave me a run for my money—and still does.

I’ve cried over her more times than I can count. Sure, I’ve put her in her place. I’m her mom, after all. But every time I could go for the “killshot,” I stop. Because I’ve had that mom. I know how that feels.

This little girl—born with jet-black hair and stormy gray-blue eyes—needs more than a strong, fierce, protective mother. She needs one who is loving, gentle, caring, silly, and free-spirited too. Yes, I might be “so cringy” to her, but I want her to be able to hug me, to hear the words I love you and not shudder. I want that for her.

I never had that, and I promised myself I would be different. She might not think it’s a big deal, but I never want her to know the difference. I will gladly wipe my frustrated, hot tears away in private without her ever knowing… so she can have all that.

She may think I’m a pain in the butt sometimes, and maybe I am. But that’s okay. I don’t need to be her best friend. I just need to be a safe place—someone she knows is here no matter what.

Even when she messes up. Even when I do.
Because our love for each other never changes.

My point in sharing this is simple: you can have a dream—a hope—and the enemy will fear it. He’ll try to crush it, twist it, or make you wish it away. But it’s a lie. Don’t believe it.

Hold on to that dream. Pray over it. Celebrate it in every corner of your life with Jesus at the center. He will guide you through it all.

And remember His promise:

“For thus says the Lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will hear you. You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you, declares the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, declares the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile.” — Jeremiah 29:10 -14

Sk-

If you’ve ever felt the enemy fighting your blessing, I hope this story reminds you—you are HIS, and that will never change. 💛

📬 Subscribe for weekly encouragement at: fabricthatmademe.com
📧 Email: fabricthatmademe@gmail.com
📱 Follow along on Instagram: @skfabric_303

fabricthatmademe

When the Enemy Fears Your Future