God Drew a War Line

Hell misread the verdict.

God did not turn on the woman.
He turned the woman toward the serpent and drew a line in the dirt.
Enmity.

“I will put enmity between you and the woman.” (Genesis 3:15)
Between. Not against. Not over her. Between.

That word is a weapon.
It’s a boundary and a battlefield in one breath.
It means you won’t just be hit—you’ll hit back.

Enmity is not a curse.
It’s your commission.

The enemy wants you convinced you’re fragile, background, expendable.
He wants you apologizing for oxygen.
But God marked you as opposition—day one.
He put steel in your spine and fire in your mouth and said, “Face him.”

This is the first gospel and it’s a war cry.
A crushed head is promised.
And the delivery system runs through a woman.

Eve’s line becomes Mary’s womb becomes Christ’s heel on the serpent’s skull.
But don’t sanitize the story in between.

Ask Jael—who didn’t wait for permission; she drove a tent peg through a predator’s temple.
Ask Deborah—who sang judgment until fear broke and a nation stood up.
Ask Mary of Magdala—first preacher of resurrection while hell was still choking on its failure.
Ask Priscilla—who drew doctrine like a blade and corrected error without blinking.

The enemy doesn’t swarm what isn’t a threat.
The harassment around your life is evidence: you’re dangerous.

Enmity means there’s a holy no inside you that hell can’t negotiate.
No to agreement with shame.
No to the muzzle.
No to smallness, to counterfeit peace, to generational scripts that bury daughters alive.

And enmity means there’s a holy yes that keeps you standing when sleep would be easier.
Yes to the call.
Yes to the Word.
Yes to carrying what God plants until it’s born—vision, deliverance, whole households turned.

Listen—God didn’t place you in the garden to decorate it.
He placed you to govern it.
A woman is a multiplier by design; whatever God hands you, you stretch, you steward, you send forward.
That’s why the serpent slithers your way: not because you’re weak, but because you’re effective.

So hear me clearly:
You are not a soft target.
You are a set trap.
You are not the scene of hell’s victory; you are the site of its humiliation.

Stop treating spiritual warfare like vandalism you must endure.
It’s not graffiti on your story—it’s the evidence that your story is torching his plans.
If he keeps striking your heel, it’s because your heel is on his head.

Enmity does this in a woman:

• It wakes her discernment—she stops petting snakes.
  
  

• It straightens her posture—she stops bowing to lies.
  
  

• It sharpens her voice—she stops explaining her anointing to rooms she’s called to lead.
  
  

• It purifies her compassion—tender and unflinching, mercy with a backbone.
  
  

Daughter, you are not here to make peace with darkness.
You are here to ruin it.

So let the line stand.
Let it burn bright between you and every scheme.
Let the enemy learn your schedule: prayer at dawn, obedience by noon, joy by night.
Let him find you with oil on your hands and the Word on your tongue.

You don’t owe hell your silence.
You owe Heaven your yes.

This is not about personality.
It’s not about volume, stage, or spotlight.
It’s about a call that outruns your feelings and a Spirit that outmuscles your fear.

God put enmity between you and the enemy.
That means you have holy permission to fight back—and a promise that your line ends with a crushed head.

So rise.
Not fragile. Not background. Not sorry.
Rooted in grace. Forged by fire.
And utterly untouchable in the purpose of God.