She wasn’t always a warrior. Even now she still bleeds and feels pain and every wound. She stands and fights with weak knees and a trembling heart. But she fights, gathering arrows and filling her quiver. She fights, knowing the I Am who is ever near doesn’t waste her pain.
In times past there were days of defeat. Days when the arrows lodged deep- so deep they couldn’t easily be torn from her flesh. She writhed in pain and sunk deep in sorrow. She washed her wounds with her own tears even as she scanned the battlefield for a friend, a helper that never seemed to come. Those were the days that darkness swallowed her soul, that victory seemed sure for the enemy, that the arrows seemed to wound almost mortally deep. Those days when her knees buckled and her tears ran were the days she knew she had to keep trying. Trying to tear the arrows from her side. Trying to pull herself up. Trying to stand straight even if she must lean on the presence of the I AM. She knew if she tried to stand on her own she would surely fall and all would be lost. But if she didn’t try she knew the darkness would win.
Arrows seemed to fly so fast and furious and many found their mark. She looked at the arrows protruding painfully from her heart. They had names. Names like Abuse, Fear, Rejection, Depression, Anxiety, Perfectionism, Worry, Hopelessness, Loss, Grief, Sorrow, Loneliness. Some hit their mark so deeply that the wound gushed for days, weeks, months, even years. Some she easily removed but as soon as they were dislodged a new one just like it, or even stronger lodged in the same tender place.
The fighting became tiresome and her blood, sweat and tears seemed to begin to lose value. But yet, the presence of the I AM moved her ever so slightly and ever so gently. The Goodness of the I AM seemed to hold her up. He seemed to drip the cordial of Faith and Grace on her wounds from time to time. At the perfect time. At the last moment. The moment she thought she had been mortally wounded. The cordial seeped deep and warm and healing into the open wounds giving her just enough strength to stand once again.
She stood. As a tentative child on the inside even as He called her a regal warrior princess. She let the I AM steady her steps and lift her head with his Goodness. She let Him minister to and heal the wounds. She took a breath of fresh air but as sure as the air entered her lungs the arrows began flying once again. Hitting their mark, stealing her joy. Shattering her hopes and dreams. Wounding, tearing and cutting at her soul.
She closed her eyes. She leaned hard into the I AM. She reached with a trembling hand and grasped an arrow burning and protruding from her side. She whispered the words the I AM had spoken to her, “This will not be wasted.” And she yanked it out hard and fast, leaving the stinging wound wide open. With force and determination she plunged the arrow into the quiver on her back. One at a time, with a strength that could have only come from the I AM, she continued to yank the arrows from the wounds in her body and force them into her quiver. Bleeding and broken she stood. This time bearing the call as the Warrior Princess.
She stood and stared into the enemy lines. From deep within she cried words not of this world. Words of strength and courage. Words that came from the I AM. She knew He had given her the quiver on her back and the bow in her hand for such a time as this.
Scanning the battlefields before her she saw the bodies strewn bleeding and wounded before her. She saw the arrows flying through the sky, many hitting their marks in the hearts of those people. She saw the people, their eyes full of fear. She saw some starring in disbelief at the arrows in their sides. She saw some giving up and wishing for death. She saw some wandering around aimlessly not knowing what to do.
She took hold of the bravery the I AM had given her at her birth and she stooped low before a young, wounded soul. She saw the name on the arrow. She sought the arrow bearing the same name from her own quiver and with a vengeance she took aim at the enemy and fired. The I AM made sure the arrow hit straight and true.
With a tenderness and compassion birthed through understanding, she lifted the wounded soul from the field to walk beside her.
Again and again the Warrior Princess found arrows in her quiver bearing names that matched those that were wounding others. Boldly she would place the matching arrow on her bow and fire. Knowing the I AM would guide the arrow. Arrow after arrow became protection for others. Arrows that had been intended to kill her now became weapons that ministered faith and hope to others.
However, some on the battlefield covered their faces and refused her help out of shame. Some looked at her in disbelief calling her a fake and a fraud. Others refused to let her even get close enough to name the arrow. But for the few who accepted her strength and courage she fought. She fought hard.
Today she stands as a warrior not because she has always been a warrior but because she fell hard and leans hard on the I AM. Today she knows more arrows are coming, some will hit their mark, will wound and burn and even take her breath away. But there is something else she knows. The Goodness of the I AM. She has Him and He has her and He said the pain can make her brave. He said the strength comes in the fighting. He gave her the quiver. He taught her to use the arrows and He will make them straight and true.
(This is a word picture of a vision the Lord gave to a very good friend of mine for me.)