We Sit on Strife

Some days ago, a friend came to pack his belongings from a room he was vacating. There had been misunderstandings between him and the caretakers of the house—words exchanged, tensions unresolved. What made the moment heavier was that he was sick, weary in body, and clearly burdened in spirit. As I stood there watching him pack, a quiet thought came to me.

Soon, another person would rent that room. They would pay the rent gladly, enter with hope, and arrange their life within those walls—unaware of the strife that had preceded them. They would not know the pain, the harsh words, or the bitterness that had once filled that space. And I wondered: what if, in his anguish, words had been spoken—carelessly, angrily, or despairingly—over that room?

Not as a ritual. Not as witchcraft. Just words spoken from pain.

Scripture reminds us that words are never empty.

“Death and life are in the power of the tongue.” (Proverbs 18:21, KJV)

This is not mysticism; it is biblical realism. The Bible consistently treats words as moral and spiritual acts. God Himself created by speaking. Likewise, men wound, bless, corrupt, or heal with their words—often without fully realizing it.

That moment led me to a broader reflection: how often do we step into spaces, possessions, or positions without knowing the history attached to them? Houses are bought. Lands are inherited. Offices are assumed. Titles are celebrated. Yet rarely do we pause to consider what conflicts, injustices, bitterness, or unresolved grief may have preceded us.

The Scriptures acknowledge that land can be affected by human actions.

“So ye shall not pollute the land wherein ye are: for blood it defileth the land.” (Numbers 35:33, KJV)

The issue is not that objects are evil, but that human sin leaves consequences. Strife does not always end when people leave. Sometimes, it lingers—in culture, in systems, in spaces, and in relationships.

This is why the apostle Paul exhorts believers to a life of spiritual attentiveness.

“Praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit.” (Ephesians 6:18, KJV)

Prayer is not paranoia. It is posture.

Jesus Himself taught that men “ought always to pray, and not to faint” (Luke 18:1, KJV), not because every place is cursed, but because life is complex, layered, and often shaped by unseen histories.

We do not pray because Christ’s work is insufficient. On the contrary, we pray because His work gives us confidence.

“Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law.” (Galatians 3:13, KJV)

This is the believer’s anchor. We are not victims wandering through haunted inheritances. We are heirs seated with Christ, given authority to bless, cleanse, and reorder our lives under God.

Yet redemption does not cancel wisdom. A redeemed man still locks his doors. A redeemed woman still watches her steps. And a redeemed believer still prays over what they occupy—homes, marriages, vocations, and responsibilities.

Sometimes, without knowing it, we sit on strife—not because we are cursed, but because others before us were wounded. Prayer becomes the way God teaches us to respond, not with fear, but with faith; not with suspicion, but with peace.

“And let the peace of God rule in your hearts.” (Colossians 3:15, KJV)

The Christian life is not about uncovering hidden evils everywhere. It is about bringing Christ’s peace everywhere we go. Where bitterness once spoke, we bless. Where strife once lingered, we pray. Where confusion once reigned, we invite God’s order.

And so I pray for you — Let the mercy of God place you above any strife where you are now. Let the power of God’s advocacy rule your space with God’s peace now! In the name of Jesus, you will not be victim of strife that precede you. Receive mercy, receive peace.