As a boy I was more than fascinated by Rasputin, a Russian monk who was nearly impossible to kill. Now the stuff of legend, Rasputin fell out of good graces with the Russian Royal family before the 1917 revolution and was encountered by a host of assassins. He was reportedly given enough poison to kill five men yet seemed unaffected so they shot him in the back and left for a time. Upon their return he lunged at them so they shot him several more times. Still fighting to get up they clubbed Rasputin till he appeared dead. The assassins then wrapped his body in a carpet and threw him in the Icy, (It was December in Russia) Neva River. Rasputin’s body was recovered two days later with water in his lungs meaning he actually drowned after all that. Now that’s the kinda thing a young boy finds fascinating for sure, but when you actually experience an event like that it’s another thing entirely.
Vic Hill, a business partner and long time friend of mine lived in, Goochland, Va. and every time I had come to visit for the last few months his whole house reeked of skunk. He told me his dog kept having run-ins with a very fragrant skunk and that many times he would see the varmint himself if he made the mistake of shinning a flash light in the woods to the left of the house. Already dark I had an idea.
Vic and I had hunted for years together and we even had the same Winchester shotguns we had bought together years ago, and so I asked if he still had his 12gauge and could I take a shot at ending this stinking problem. Vic then sent his son, Doug (about 13 at the time) after the gun and a flash light.
Armed with three shells in the gun and an extra three shells just in case, I crept around the side of the house, with Doug right behind. Sure enough the moment Doug shined the flashlight on the left of the house the reeking rodent charged. Click, off went the safety and “blam” with one shot the little stinker rolled back up into the woods and sheewwwy, apparently he sprayed as he rolled. We peered with the light up into the woods where he rolled and oh my word, he came charging again, “blam” the second shot was as good as the first he rolled back up into the woods again stink and blood a flyin. As Doug and I were high fiving the demise of the monochromatic marauder, we heard a rustle of leaves, shining the light and back he came with that waddle run heading right for us, this being the last shell in the gun I took careful aim and “blam” once again he rolled back up into the woods. Not only was I now convinced I was dealing with Rasputin the skunk, but the term stinking to high heaven seemed a giant understatement for the current aroma.
Eyes tearing up I screamed, “Doug get me those other shells in case he ain’t done!” Doug handed them to me and before I could get them loaded, Rasputin was on the move, fierce as ever. I was sure this thing must be rabid. How in the world could a rodent take this kind of firepower? I have shot rabbits at three times the distance and with one shot killed them dead as a hammer. None the less, Rasputin was charging and before I could get all three loaded I jacked one in the chamber and, “blam” sent him rolling back again.
Taking no chances I loaded the other shells and braced for a further onslaught. Stink, oh my word did it stink. Doug started backing up to the house sayin, “I’m not sure you can kill that thing with a shotgun!”
I was thinking perhaps it would be good to have a bazooka about now, but then sure enough we heard that familiar sound of leaves and Doug brought the light up. Rasputin appeared far from dead once again charging at us with all the vigor of the first time, “blam” the now familiar roll back into the woods and the added spray leaving a pungent stench I didn’t know was even possible.
Last shell, this is impossible, what possesses this polecat? Perhaps Vic’s shells had been defective or the choke of the gun had gone bad, yet the way Rasputin rolled up into the woods with each shot it looked like he was getting blasted. Then the rustle of leaves and through the spray and smoke the now familiar face of the charging Rasputin, last shot I’ll wait till I see the white’s of his eyes, “blam”, Rasputin rolled back up into the woods. “Doug, go get some more shells quick”, I screamed.
Now before I tell you what happened next, I need to share what God taught me through this incident and perhaps it will be as memorable for you as it has been for me. Like all God lessons He brings them down to my level of understanding and often, like this time they are engraved in my mind by circumstances. The lesson: during the smoke and stink of life and death bloody battles you don’t know for sure who you are up against, how many are for you or how many are against you, or the exact location of enemy or friendly fire.
This incident happened almost thirty years ago now, but through recent years God has revealed this battle understanding in a new light that perhaps Elisha saw it in 2 Kings 6 but few others get a glimpse. Ephesians 6: 12 NLT “For we* are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.”
Did you see that? It’s all plural; rulers, powers, enemies, authorities. Yes, those for you are greater than those against you, but don’t fail to see that those against you are many and come from many different angles. The really helpful thing here is that by analyzing the point of attack you can discover the enemies plan.
Deep in prayer on my way back from a Dangerous Heart Boot camp talk on your “New Name” from Revelation 2:17. I was asking God, “What do You call me?”
God clearly answered me, “Robby, I call you, Faithful.”
Faithful, really? “Come on God don’t I get a cooler name than Faithful, it sounds like an old dog. Here Faithful come here boy, man I thought You would say Warrior or Brave Heart but Faithful, really?
Understanding the point of attack strategy; basically Satan is combing the horizon looking for God’s glory revealed in some image bearer, (that’s us) and when he see that Glory come out of the fox hole, “Bam”, he whacks you, like, “whack a mole”. I decided to check this strategy so I asked myself, “How would you attack faithful?” Hmm “Betrayal, that’s how you would attack faithful” and with that understanding came an immediate context for the attacks of my life. Simply put Satan hates my faithfulness and he attacks that with betrayal in an effort to get me to hide my glory. Now armed with this understanding I can now chose to walk in my God given identity and resist the devil. Now I see the unseen coming out of the smoke and stink of battle rising up to my freedom in Christ.
So what about old Rasputin did the sixth shot kill him? As Doug and I finally got the courage to go look up in the woods not only did it kill him, but the previous five as well, a total of six dead skunks in the woods and stink, oh my did it stink. Doug and I both had to throw away those cloths and shoes. Perhaps with this understanding you can put on some new duds yourself…..
As a boy I was more than fascinated by Rasputin, a Russian monk who was nearly impossible to kill. Now the stuff of legend, Rasputin fell out of good graces with the Russian Royal family before the 1917 revolution and was encountered by a host of assassins. He was reportedly given enough poison to kill five men yet seemed unaffected so they shot him in the back and left for a time. Upon their return he lunged at them so they shot him several more times. Still fighting to get up they clubbed Rasputin till he appeared dead. The assassins then wrapped his body in a carpet and threw him in the Icy, (It was December in Russia) Neva River. Rasputin’s body was recovered two days later with water in his lungs meaning he actually drowned after all that. Now that’s the kinda thing a young boy finds fascinating for sure, but when you actually experience an event like that it’s another thing entirely.
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