When All Hell Breaks Loose: The Power of God's Word That Breaks Every Chain

Oct 14

4 min read

"Tracee, just get in your car and start driving through the beautiful winding coastal roads south of Greystones."

It was 2002, and those winding roads along the coastline of Ireland were breathtaking. We were living in a postcard—green hills, cliffs dropping off into the ocean. But what came next wasn’t beautiful at all. A thought hit me hard and fast: What if I didn’t follow the curve of the road? What if I just kept going, straight into the ocean?

It wasn’t random. It was the weight of the world that had settled on my shoulders, the kind of weight that makes you want to check out.

When we first arrived in Ireland as missionaries in 2000, I thought I was prepared. People had warned us—five times, to be exact—with prophetic words: “When you get to Ireland, all hell is going to break loose.” I didn’t want to believe it, but within four months of landing, it was true. Hell didn’t just break loose—it felt like it opened up and swallowed us whole.

The battle hit every part of our lives. My ex-husband fell into a deep depression. My oldest son was bullied relentlessly at school. And me? My health nosedived. I was diagnosed with a severe food allergy that brought me to the edge of my own deathbed. It felt like we were getting slammed from every direction.

After a year and a half of constant struggle, I hit a breaking point. I sat on my bed, trembling, feeling like I was drowning in hopelessness. My mind was a war zone, and it didn’t seem like there was any way out.

That’s when the thought came: “Tracee, just get in your car…” You know the rest. I was done.

But something stopped me. In that broken state, I grabbed my Bible. It wasn’t some grand moment of faith—honestly, it felt like desperation. I flipped it open to Psalm 23:4. I could barely whisper the words:

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For you are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me."

I read it again. And again.

Each time I read those words, something happened. Slowly, the heaviness started to lift. Fear began to melt away. Hope—real, tangible hope—started to rise up. I kept reading, louder each time, until I went from a weak, trembling whisper to shouting it from the rooftops.

You see, I had been wearing my circumstances like armor—anxious, overwhelmed, hopeless, afraid. I had let the lies of the enemy become the very thing weighing me down. But with every word of that psalm, it was like God was peeling off that old, tattered armor and dressing me in His. The armor of faith. Of strength. Of victory.

Within hours, I wasn’t just reading Psalm 23—I was declaring it. I stood up in my home and declared that God, and only God, had dominion over my life and my family. Not fear. Not depression. Not illness.

That day, I experienced something powerful: God’s Word is alive. It’s not just ink on a page—it’s living, breathing, and it BREAKS EVERY CHAIN that tries to hold us down. Every stronghold the enemy tries to set up in your life, God’s Word is more powerful.

And friend, let me tell you this: There is an enemy that is out to destroy everything you are, everything you love, everything you dream about. But there is also a God, your Creator, who is fighting for you. He gave you this life on purpose, for a purpose.

A life with passion. A life with love and hope. A life wrapped in the goodness of God.

So if you’re feeling overwhelmed today, like the weight of the world is too much, cling to Him. Grab His Word and let it speak to the dark places in your heart and mind. Let Him be the one who has dominion over your life, and watch what happens when you do.

You’re not alone in this. And I promise you, God’s truth will break every stronghold.

My prayer for you if you are struggling today:

Lord, I lift up my friend to You today. I don’t know all the details of what they’re walking through, but You do. You see every tear, You know every fear, and You hear every cry for help. Right now, I ask that You wrap them in Your peace—the kind that goes beyond all understanding, the kind that calms even the fiercest storms.

Lord, remind my friend that they are not alone. Just like You walked with me through my darkest days, I know You are walking with them now. Let them feel Your presence in the deepest, most personal way. When they feel like they can't take another step, give them the strength to keep going. When their mind is overwhelmed, flood them with Your truth that drowns out the lies. And when they feel like they’re sinking, Lord, reach out and lift them up, just like You did for Peter on the water.

Help my friend to cling to Your promises, even when everything around them feels like it's falling apart. Be their shelter, their refuge, their ever-present help in trouble. And Lord, just as You did in my life, turn this storm into a story of Your goodness and faithfulness. Bring healing where it’s needed, hope where it feels lost, and joy where there’s been nothing but sorrow.

Thank You for fighting for them, for going before them, and for never leaving their side. I trust that You are working all things together for good, even when we can’t see it yet.

In Jesus’ mighty name, Amen.

The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need.

He lets me rest in green meadows;

he leads me beside peaceful streams.

He renews my strength.

He guides me along right paths,

bringing honor to his name.

Even when I walk through the darkest valley,

I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me.

Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.

You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies.

You honor me by anointing my head with oil.