The Valley of Humiliation
Where Apollyon attacks
In Pilgrim's Progress, Christian must pass through the Valley of Humiliation, a low and lonely place, and there the foul fiend Apollyon meets him in open combat. It is the fiercest fight of the whole journey. Apollyon straddles the path, hurls flaming darts, and wounds Christian in the head, hand, and foot, until the battle hangs in the balance and Christian is nearly spent. The attack comes, tellingly, in the valley — the low place, where we feel weakest and least able to fight.
This is true to experience. The enemy presses hardest when we are already down — in seasons of humiliation, weakness, and desolation, when our resources are exhausted and our footing is least sure. He chooses the valley precisely because that is where we feel most defeated and most tempted to give up the fight entirely.
Paul describes the same experience without the allegory: we are pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair. Notice the pattern — real pressure, genuine perplexity, but never the final word. Christian, though wounded, finally reaches for his sword and prevails, and Apollyon flies away. The valley is real and the fight is fierce, but the believer is hard pressed, not crushed. When I fall, the prophet says, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light. Take up the sword, even in the valley, and rise.
“We are pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, yet not to despair.”
— Paul, to the Corinthians — 2 Corinthians 4:8 (WEB)
Hold the difference between pressed and crushed when the enemy attacks you in the valley — wounded and low, yet able to take up the sword and rise.
“Don't rejoice against me, my enemy: when I fall, I shall arise; when I sit in darkness, the LORD will be a light to me.”
Assault in the low place tempts us to read our weakness as the whole verdict — to assume that because we are wounded and spent, the fight is already lost. The interior work is to hold the line Paul drew, pressed yet not crushed, perplexed yet not despairing — to mark the boundary the assault cannot pass, and to reach, even bleeding and low, for the sword of the word and rise.
This week, if the enemy is pressing you in a low season, do not surrender the fight: name the line he cannot cross (pressed, not crushed), take up the sword of God's word against the specific lie or assault, and rise, trusting that when you fall you shall arise.
The enemy times his fiercest assault for the valley, when exhaustion and despair seem to add up to surrender. But hard pressed is not crushed, and perplexed is not finished — and the wounded pilgrim who lifts the sword even from the ground sees Apollyon take flight.
The enemy is a strategist, and he chooses his moment: he attacks hardest in the valley, when we are already low, weak, and exhausted, least able to defend ourselves. Like Apollyon meeting Christian in the Valley of Humiliation, he presses us precisely where we feel most defeated, hoping the combination of desolation and assault will make us surrender the fight.
But Paul names the crucial limit on the pressure: pressed, yet not crushed; perplexed, yet not driven to despair. The valley is real and the assault is fierce, but there is a line the enemy cannot cross. Hard pressed is not the same as crushed; perplexed is not the same as despairing. Even wounded and low, the believer can still reach for the sword and rise. When the enemy attacks you in the valley, hold the difference: you may be hard pressed, but in Christ you will not be crushed.
- Does the enemy press me hardest exactly when I am already low?
- Do I confuse being hard pressed with being crushed?
- Will I take up the sword and rise, even wounded, in the valley?
Lord, the enemy attacks hardest when I am already low, hoping desolation and assault together will make me surrender. Teach me that pressed is not crushed. Even wounded in the valley, let me take up the sword of your word and rise, for when I fall I shall arise. Amen.