I have no fear of Satan. He cannot do me more than has been done. There is no pain he can give that will be greater than what God has given and I have endured. There will be no burden heavier than I have carried.
What will you do Satan, strip away the love in my family? My own mother never once cared. Hell, the woman made me a German Chocolate cake for my 15th birthday knowing full well I hate coconut! Satan, will you again force me to tolerate my mother's affairs or endure her addiction to pills? Sorry, Satan, but the pain from those times have never faded, and I have repeated the patterns within my own relationships.
Satan, will you force me to wake and see the dead body of my seven-month-old son? Will you forever embed 
in my mind the image of his sad and panicked face covered in vomit as he died crying for someone, anyone, who loved him? Never has a day passed when I haven't seen that image.
Will you show me the betrayal of siblings, Satan? I already know about my brother who made it a point to sleep with every woman I ever loved and let us not forget the abusive and violent brother who scarred my face and years later tried to molest my daughter. Sorry Satan, but I know the pain of sibling betrayal all too well.
Maybe you would attempt to grant my dreams and then rip it away all at once? Yeah Satan, about that. I lost my father, my family unit, my business, my home and my mother all within 18 months. The joke's on you Satan, I grieved it all in one long process and I emerged unbowed and unbroken. And guess what, Satan, as I watched my peers have to grieve these very things one piece at a time, I gained gratitude and strength for having done it all at once.
Satan, would you have me constantly reach out to my biological father only to have him threaten to kill me? Sorry Satan, I felt that pain too deeply; it no longer binds me.
Would you have me endure years of lies used to separate me from my children? Sorry Satan, my own children showed me their blindness to actions versus their belief in the lies. I lived this pain daily, and with each lie, I chose to be the bigger person and take the high road only to watch the road crumble beneath my feet and leave me falling into an endless abyss. Sorry Satan, I am no longer afraid of falling.
Satan, would you threaten my existence with a deadly and incurable heart ailment? Sorry Satan, I beat that and I beat the two cancers that followed. Facing my mortality and existence no longer scares me.
Would you deliver to me a newfound son only for me to learn to love him and then watch him die? Sorry Satan, I carry the pain of his life in my every breath.
Will you force me to watch as my grandchildren suffer under the same toxic generational patterns that those of us who came before have suffered? Sorry Satan, having my children stripped away also stripped away my ability and willingness to care about what happens to their children. I wasn't there to guide them so their outcome isn't my problem and the pain they will endure isn't mine to carry, so you may not burden me with it further.
Perhaps, Satan, you'll force me to forever hold a dying war buddy in my arms and to constantly replay the moment when the light of life flickers from his eyes? Or would you rather me relive the screams of a paratrooper whose chute failed to open as I watched him fall to his death? I have replayed those moments 1000's of times and no matter what, their cries of anguish still echo in my ears.
Will you steal my once sharp and vibrant mind? Sorry Satan, the doctors have diagnosed me with dementia and told me I only have a few years remaining where I will remember anything. I have no fear of my remaining time.
You see, Satan, I have been resilient for so long that it fatigued me. I had to stop. I withdrew. I rested. I collected myself. I looked back. I reflected. Now, I can see that while I deserved none of the pain inflicted on me, I carried my burdens as best I could. Looking back, I recognize that I have always tried, given, loved, and risen above to the best of my ability. I no longer carry guilt; I no longer carry shame; I no longer carry regret; I no longer carry remorse. I carry none of what fuels and feeds you.
My flesh has been rent away so many times I no longer feel it. My heart has been crushed so many times that I now laugh when it feels anything, even pain. I have walked through your fires so many times that I have become a dragon. Satan, you have nothing I fear, so I laugh at you; I mock your weakness. Sulk away you tiny creature and go frighten a lesser man.
Note: What prompted this story? Well, a number of things...
Earlier today I was speaking with a dear friend, one of the few who, like me, has suffered great loss many times in her life. Our friendship is rare in that we're both able to express our feelings and we're both able to listen to the other without judgment. This time of year is especially painful for her. During her marriage, she lost an infant son. Decades later, her husband died on April 1st. A few years after his passing, her daughter died of birth complications on March 27th. Years after all that grief, she found love again, but, sadly, after a few short years together, he too passed. We talked about "Resilience Fatigue."
I received a lot of pushback on my story Losing My Religion. "I don't understand God," they said. "I should fear Satan and the bowels of Hell!" they said. I laughed.
Nearly 20 years ago, as I was just leaving religion, a fellow former veteran posted this question on one of the military forums: "You die and instead of finding yourself at the pearly gates, you find yourself at the gates of Hell... what do they say to you?" Each day, I read the responses; most were sincere, and a few were quite funny. I found them all amusing. After about a week, there were close to 500 answers, and I finally decided to chime in with my own take: "They would say 'Welcome Home Master!'" For days after I posted my response, the discussion went silent. Finally, a few former team members responded to my comment with various funny quips, but no one else posted another reply. Well over a decade later, I'm still amused by it all.
So, as creative streaks go, this was a confluence of many things, but mostly, a statement of my evolution.