Smitten by Melvin, the Demon of Minor Annoyances

It may sound odd for a preacher to begin this way, but it needs to be said: No one will ever convince me that the devil is not real.

I know, I know, that sounds more like the rantings of a Satanist than it does the words of a devoted, Bible-believing Christian, but it really makes sense when you consider it. After all, the same Bible that tells me of God tells me of the adversary of my soul.

My mind began musing on this subject this past Sunday morning as I was gasping for breath and considering afresh my own mortality.

I am blessed with two very good song leaders. One handles all of the congregational singing; the other leads the adult choir. If either is absent, the other fills in for him. Both of them had to miss Sunday due to unavoidable “ox in the ditch” circumstances.

But I also have many years of song-leading training and experience, so I was not worried. I would just fill in for both of them.

After I finished teaching my senior adult Sunday school class, I bent over slightly to put my notes under the pulpit. I have made that exact same motion thousands of times over the past 20 years. But on this occasion, as I did, the muscles in the dead center of my back spasmed like I had been stabbed and would not let up.

Holding my breath the entire way, I managed to straighten up and make my way back to my office, where I collapsed on the floor. My wife found me there and immediately started putting pain patches on my back.

“Do you want me to get one of the men to handle the service?” she asked.

It was a logical question. We are blessed with several preachers and laymen who are capable of filling in on a moment’s notice. But I am a stubborn sort and shook my head no.

A few moments later, I led the youth choir out and started the service. They looked at me very oddly, as I was turning red from holding my breath and then gulping for air and was not moving my hands to lead them. Nonetheless, they sang well as always.

I held the pulpit with both hands as I led the service and preached. Big crowd. Lots of visitors. I did not want to let on that I was hurting and thus be a distraction. John the Baptist said, “He must increase; I must decrease.” I was thinking, “He must increase; I must smile and keep from passing out.”

I made it through the service. Dana took me home and set about “fixing” me. Her solution was something that shoots electricity into your muscles and leaves you flopping like a fish.

It was then that I began to imagine the conversation going on in the spiritual realm. I am certain that I am not important enough for the devil himself to bother with, so it must have been one of his lackeys sent to assault me at just the right moment. I call him Melvin, the Demon of Minor Annoyances.

Melvin: “Check it out, master! Both song leaders were gone today, and there was a big crowd. He needed to be at his best, and I threw his back out of whack at just the right moment. Now look at him! He is flopping around like a trout on a dock, bahahahaha!”

Well played, Melvin. Well played.

And yet, we had one of our best services. In the midst of my weakness, when all I could do was pretend to be OK and hope for the best, God stepped in. The altars were filled with people weeping before the Lord and getting help for their hearts. As it turns out, God is quite capable of doing his work even in the absence of my strength.

The words God spoke to Paul and the words Paul responded with come flooding to my mind as I think on this. 2 Corinthians 12:9 says, “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

In retrospect, Melvin, me flopping like a fish notwithstanding, you lose.

Bo Wagner is pastor of Cornerstone Baptist Church of Mooresboro, N.C., a widely traveled evangelist and author of several books. Email him at 2knowhim@cbc-web.org.