December 12th, 2025
There was a season near the end of my time as Senior Pastor at McLean Bible Church when an unexpected spiritual darkness began pressing in on me. It came without warning, without logic, and always at the same time—Saturday nights and Sunday mornings, right as I prepared to preach the Word of God.
Driving to church, I would feel a heaviness descend on me—thick, oppressive, unmistakably spiritual. I would pray against it “in the name and by the blood of Jesus” and cling to God’s promise in James 4:7: “Submit yourselves, therefore, to God; resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”
All of this was so strange. But the battle only intensified.
Preaching had always been one of the greatest joys of my life. I used to drive to church fired up and eager to open the WORD. But suddenly, something changed. Week after week, I found myself wrestling through a cloud of spiritual resistance just to stand in the pulpit. Sermon preparation—once a delight—turned into an exhausting fight. Even at home the warfare showed up. If Jill was going to have a seizure, it almost always happened on Saturday night, robbing me of sleep and weighing heavily on my heart before Sunday morning.
At first, I tried to dismiss it all as coincidence. But after months of the same pattern, I knew this was not coincidence. It was warfare. It was personal.
As I sought the Lord for discernment, I slowly came to believe that Satan was preparing to use my upcoming transition at MBC to cause deep trouble in the church I loved. I had already witnessed two strong, Christ-honoring churches collapse after disastrous transitions of leadership. Both had been vibrant. Both had been spiritually alive. And both eventually ceased to exist.
The enemy had used leadership change to destroy them.
The warfare was not abstract. It was targeted. And for reasons that I will never fully understand, only God knows, the target was me.
Those last three or four years were some of the most intense of my life. The battles came in my office, in my car, on my knees, and even in my sleep. When my ministry there finally concluded, I drove home completely drained. I was exhausted down to my bones. I felt a deep connection with Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:15: “For I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls.”
That’s exactly how I felt—spent.
It took months before I began regaining strength. In many ways, I have never fully recovered. Even now, I feel like a soldier who survived years in the trenches—grateful, but never quite the same.
For the first time in my life, I understood Elijah on Mount Carmel in a deeply personal way. In 1 Kings 18, Elijah confronted the prophets of Baal and the demons behind them. It was a massive spiritual battle requiring everything he had. And the very next day, exhausted and vulnerable, he ran in fear from Jezebel. I used to wonder how a man of such faith could collapse so quickly. Now I understood. When you go nose-to-nose with Satan, even with God’s help, the toll is real. The battle drains you spiritually, emotionally, and physically. And Elijah’s cry—“I’ve had enough, Lord”—felt more relatable than ever before. And with that realization came a newfound compassion for Elijah.
Less judgment. More understanding. Sometimes the man of God is not backsliding—he’s simply battle-weary.
Spiritual warfare is real. It is intense. And sometimes God allows His servants to walk through seasons where the battle is fierce, unrelenting, and deeply costly. Yet even in those seasons, He remains faithful. He sustains. He protects. And He brings us through.
If you’re in a battle today, take heart. Resist the devil. Stand firm. And remember—your strength may fail, but the God who fights for you never will.
Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. 1 Peter 5:8
Driving to church, I would feel a heaviness descend on me—thick, oppressive, unmistakably spiritual. I would pray against it “in the name and by the blood of Jesus” and cling to God’s promise in James 4:7: “Submit yourselves, therefore, to God; resist the devil, and he will flee from you.”
All of this was so strange. But the battle only intensified.
Preaching had always been one of the greatest joys of my life. I used to drive to church fired up and eager to open the WORD. But suddenly, something changed. Week after week, I found myself wrestling through a cloud of spiritual resistance just to stand in the pulpit. Sermon preparation—once a delight—turned into an exhausting fight. Even at home the warfare showed up. If Jill was going to have a seizure, it almost always happened on Saturday night, robbing me of sleep and weighing heavily on my heart before Sunday morning.
At first, I tried to dismiss it all as coincidence. But after months of the same pattern, I knew this was not coincidence. It was warfare. It was personal.
As I sought the Lord for discernment, I slowly came to believe that Satan was preparing to use my upcoming transition at MBC to cause deep trouble in the church I loved. I had already witnessed two strong, Christ-honoring churches collapse after disastrous transitions of leadership. Both had been vibrant. Both had been spiritually alive. And both eventually ceased to exist.
The enemy had used leadership change to destroy them.
The warfare was not abstract. It was targeted. And for reasons that I will never fully understand, only God knows, the target was me.
Those last three or four years were some of the most intense of my life. The battles came in my office, in my car, on my knees, and even in my sleep. When my ministry there finally concluded, I drove home completely drained. I was exhausted down to my bones. I felt a deep connection with Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 12:15: “For I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls.”
That’s exactly how I felt—spent.
It took months before I began regaining strength. In many ways, I have never fully recovered. Even now, I feel like a soldier who survived years in the trenches—grateful, but never quite the same.
For the first time in my life, I understood Elijah on Mount Carmel in a deeply personal way. In 1 Kings 18, Elijah confronted the prophets of Baal and the demons behind them. It was a massive spiritual battle requiring everything he had. And the very next day, exhausted and vulnerable, he ran in fear from Jezebel. I used to wonder how a man of such faith could collapse so quickly. Now I understood. When you go nose-to-nose with Satan, even with God’s help, the toll is real. The battle drains you spiritually, emotionally, and physically. And Elijah’s cry—“I’ve had enough, Lord”—felt more relatable than ever before. And with that realization came a newfound compassion for Elijah.
Less judgment. More understanding. Sometimes the man of God is not backsliding—he’s simply battle-weary.
Spiritual warfare is real. It is intense. And sometimes God allows His servants to walk through seasons where the battle is fierce, unrelenting, and deeply costly. Yet even in those seasons, He remains faithful. He sustains. He protects. And He brings us through.
If you’re in a battle today, take heart. Resist the devil. Stand firm. And remember—your strength may fail, but the God who fights for you never will.
Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. 1 Peter 5:8
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4 Comments
Thank you Lord Jesus Christ for Lon Solomon! Thank you for his life and loving him so well!
That's quite a story, thanks for sharing.
The series of genuinely great churches being destroyed over the last decade points to organized evil but also makes me wonder if there is a weakness in their theology.
nI think lordship salvation is the answer, putting me in the odd position of agreeing with John MacArthur and Paul Washer.
Lon. For many of my 30 years at MBC I was troubled by what I saw in leadership. We stayed for the Kids Quest propane where my husband and I served with our children for a number of years. We had great preachers but not a pastor who knew and cared for us, the congregation. The elder “elections” were a sham for many yeas as only same thinking men were permitted to be part of the inner circle. The church constitution was ignored and “the ends justifies the means” became the watchword of leadership. The discernment of women who served faithfully year after year but were not paid staff was ignored. At a time of huge expansion in the congregation, lay leadership should have grown in response but it became even more elite and limited. For many years I prayed for change until the final door closed on my hopes for restoration. You were not alone in your spiritual discomfort though you did not know it. I’m glad to know you have found restoration and wish you well. Yours in Christ, Kerry