Warrior

I am a warrior. There are days when the sword I carry is too heavy to lift. There are days when my feet scream with each forced step. Those days cause me to doubt whether or not I am fit for battle. Only the strongest should fight. Only those who are talented in strategy should lead. Only those who can overcome the constant fatigue are worthy. How much easier would it be to lay down my weapon? Could I leave it, walk away, and just live?
I feel the whisper of that voice on the back of neck. That voice that says I am not strong enough to fight. The voice that says my weaknesses will destroy not only my own chances for victory but will bring down the entire army. The warm hiss on that weak spot threatens to melt my resolve.
And then, I remember. I am a daughter of the most high God. My armor is not the stuff of this world. My strength does not come from my efforts. In that moment, the whisperer is revealed and revoked.
I am a warrior. The days when I cannot lift my sword are the days of my Father’s greatest glory. I can do nothing on my own. I am weak. I am flawed. But, I am not my own. I am my Father’s, bought with an unbearable price. The greatest secret though is that my King has already won.
I am a warrior. If I win this battle today, I will get to take up my cause again tomorrow. If I lose today, the one who destroys has not won. The destroyer can only take this body. When it is gone, then I run into the arms of my Jesus. When it is gone I am free!
This journey is full of pain and weary days. This battle rings with laughter from the joy that propels my feet even when I am exhausted. I am a warrior. My King has already won the war.