NOT TODAY!

All morning long, it felt like the devil clocked in early just for me. You ever have one of those days where everything—and I mean everything—goes wrong? That was me. If I were a hockey puck, I’d have already been bruised, battered, and fired into both goalposts at full speed.

The day started with a gut-punch: an early morning discovery that left me disappointed. Then my toddler, who’s usually singing through her morning routine like she’s auditioning for a preschool musical, turned into a full-blown protester. No routines, no joy, no breakfast.

Running late for an 8AM conference, I scrambled to find the address in my email… and just like that, it vanished. I was convinced: either the devil deleted it or my inbox was now in the twilight zone.

But it didn’t stop there.

Just as I was finally ready to leave, a sudden downpour broke through what had moments before been bright, sunny skies. Not a drizzle. A full-on deluge. But here’s the kicker—it was only raining in my yard. A stone’s throw away, the ground was dry as a biscuit. What in the weather warfare was this?

Still, I thought, “Nothing an umbrella can’t handle, right?” Wrong. I grabbed my bags, opened my umbrella, and made my way down the driveway in the rain to load the car. But on the first pull of the door handle, I realized the car door was locked—no key in sight. With barely enough space to maneuver, I dragged my umbrella and luggage back to the house like a defeated soldier. Then came the moment that nearly broke me: I slipped and fell flat on my back. Clothes soaked, back aching, and frustration boiling over.

Thankfully, God gave me natural padding, because the fall hurt less than my pride.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to crawl back into bed and pretend the day never started. But just then, my tiny human—my morning protester—saw me fall and she began to cry. Not for herself, but for me. In the midst of her tantrum, she paused to comfort me with words that wrapped around my heart like a warm blanket. She hugged me. She smiled, just to show she wasn’t sad anymore. She rubbed my back and offered grace when I had none left to give.

Her spirit shifted. She suddenly became cooperative, munching her toast like it was gourmet. And I thought maybe, just maybe, we were turning the corner.

We got in the car, toddler and all, and as I was pulling off—guess what? I forgot my tea. My lifeline. Without my morning hot beverage, my Caribbean stomach would be a fish out of water. So I reversed, made my way back inside, and prayed that would be the final hiccup.

But no. Traffic had other plans. My GPS lost its mind and rerouted me to the wrong location. At that point, I wasn’t even sure if I should be rebuking demons or just upgrading my tech. Either way, I finally paused and prayed. Out loud. I called on Jesus, because clearly, I was in a spiritual showdown.

And wouldn’t you know it—as soon as I said “Amen,” a car swerved into my lane and slammed on its brakes. Defensive driving kicked in, yes—but so did divine intervention. God spared me from what could’ve been a tragic accident.

I arrived at the conference—45 minutes late. And then I had to contend with that one person who seems to have graduated top of their class from the University of Zero Grace. I pleaded. I explained. I had driven too far and gone through too much to be turned around. I made two calls to her supervisor who wasn’t on site. No answer.

I might as well walk away and give up. I hung my head and turned to leave, when a small voice whispered: Are you really ready to give up now? And the fighter in me responded. I redialed the number one more time. The supervisor answered—but she too wasn’t about to extend grace. As she calmly explained state policy, I called on the power of the One who writes universal policies. And in what felt like the snap of a finger, He softened her heart. For the first time in 10 years, she extended grace.

After another heartfelt prayer and a final plea for mercy—I was in.

Now, here I sit in the conference—45 minutes late, a bit disheveled, but present. I tuned out the presenter (don’t judge me), flipped open my laptop—charged overnight—only for it to die two minutes after turning it on. I let out a slow sigh, looked around the room, and whispered, “God, I see what this was.”

This wasn’t just a rough day. This was a spiritual battle.
I’ve got bruises. I’ve got fatigue. But I also have victory.
I showed up. The enemy didn’t win. My toddler smiled. I found peace in chaos. God made a way.

And as I sit here whispering a quiet “thank You” to the One who held me through it all, I’m reminded of these powerful words:

“We shall meet with opposition of every description, but we must be determined to overcome. Be strong; yes, be strong. Let us be united in love and in the strength of the Lord.”
— Ellen G. White, Letter 30, 1885

Or to put it plainly:

“The angel of the Lord encamps all around those who fear Him, and delivers them.” — Psalm 34:7 (NKJV)

Today, the devil tried it. But God said, not today.

And if you’re in the heat of your own battle, don’t tap out. You may feel beat up—but you’re still standing.
And that, my friend, is victory.