She’s more than just a conqueror;
She’s a mighty warrior clothed in battle gear,
heavily scarred, but still standing,
wondering if the battles ever end,
feeling weaker than a newborn babe
deprived of even water,
much less his mother’s breast,
surely not “fit for battle.”
But she’s stronger than the strongest of kings,
fit for royalty,
She’s lost more battles than she’s won;
She fights the same battles over and over again
until she succeeds in overcoming.
But don’t we all?
Faith -- The battles are not hers;
They’re already won
and she knows she’s not the one who won them.
Therein is her strength.
When the world said
she should have long ago given in,
she holds on to the one thing
that can’t be taken from her,
despite the schemes,
despite the strength,
despite the weapons with which
the enemy uses to destroy her,
despite the snickering
in the dark corners of her soul.
For it never fails,
Light will always, eventually,
shine in the darkness,
revealing the enemy for what it is --
The cry from yet another pit,
another battle ground:
“Not my will, Father,
A faraway cry reaches back to her:
“I Am the I Am. And I alone Am your strength.”
And once again,
of no strength of her own,
she finds herself standing firmly
on the only solid Foundation.
She has inner strength
because Strength lives in her
and moves in her
and has His being in her.
She is a warrior,
scarred though she may be
by the remnants of iniquity
that lash out at her every chance they get:
“You’re guilty! You’re guilty!”
But a gentle whisper from Love
cries much louder than the scream
that rips another layer of flesh
from a heart broken too many times:
and, with enough faith to receive that,
you’re stronger than the strongest of kings.”
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