Skip to main content

Wounded Warrior 

"But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed." --Isaiah 53:5


When I recently got drafted to facilitate a lesson on "The Process" at a Woman’s Bible Study group, I was a little disgruntled. Give me a topic that I’ve already mastered and let me hit the ground running. Give me the reins to lead a group discussion from a place of victory but don’t put me in a vulnerable position to expose my weakness. I felt destined to fail but God had other plans little did I know.

As I’ve stated many of times, my struggle has always been "middle ground!" I’m either dragging my feet in the valley or doing handstands on the mountaintop. However, lately I’ve been sprinting around the same mountain--complacent, unsatisfied and annoyed.

I sat distressed, mourning and crying out to God like Paul with a "secret thorn" in my flesh.

During the group discussion, I unveiled the wound, undressed the pain and uncovered my truth by allowing the Holy Spirit complete dominion over my insecurities. Once I started talking, I felt like a "well of freedom" replenished everything that I released.

It was done.

The yoke was destroyed.

The bondage shifted to freedom.

When I initially walked in the room, my heart, in one hand but my sword in the other. I was not coming for sympathy or pats on the head. Despite my struggles, I refused to be pitiful! I knew how to stand flat footed, shoulders squared back and look the enemy directly in his face without flinching. I’m only stood 5 feet 2 inches in physical stature but I was trained for combat. Growing up as an only child, I learned how to defend myself many years ago and I wasn’t scared to fight either. The only problem was that nobody loved me enough to point out that I was fighting with the wrong weapons.

I knew all about the helmet of salvation, the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of faith, the belt of truth, the sword of the spirit, and the shoes of the gospel. However I was taught at an early age that if somebody hit you, that you hit them back. So here I was now--an adult trying to fight "flesh with flesh!" And yet, wondered why I was still losing?

That "thing" that you are secretly at war with is not the root of your pain. It’s time to take your hands off of it because over analyzing causes you to climb walls that just don’t exist. Let go of the invisible rivalry that takes up permanent residence in your space that screams, "this can’t be conquered." It’s covered by the blood! Self-condemnation is a trick of the enemy to keep you distracted from the greatness that already lies within. 

 "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." --Ephesians 6:12

He already paid the price.

The battle has already been won.

All you have to do is--walk in it (FREEDOM).


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Broken Covenant

Once upon a time— I wanted to believe something was real so desperately that I silenced the Spirit within me just to keep the illusion alive. I saw every red flag— not as warnings, but as tests of how much  I was willing to endure to feel chosen. I asked no questions because truth was already whispering, and I feared what obedience would cost me. So I made a covenant with denial— calling lies “grace,” and confusion “patience,” because the truth felt too vast, too holy, too disruptive to the future I had built in my mind. I clung to potential like it was promise, and mistook absence for peace. Yet the weight of it— this thing I called love— crushed my spirit daily. Still, desperation dressed itself as loyalty and convinced me to stay. And it didn’t get better. It decayed. Quietly at first… then unmistakably. Each time God unveiled truth, I chose the comfort of shadows over the calling of light. I pleaded. I prayed. I begged— not for revelation, but for permission to remain where I w...
Post a Comment
Read more

From Chaos to Calm

After a while… the need to be heard at full volume begins to dissolve. The rooftops grow silent. The flames you once fed with trembling hands no longer feel like power— only exhaustion. What you burned never built a home. And somewhere along the way, you realize— not every echo returns, not every seed takes root, not every mountain was yours to climb. The grace you poured out like water in a desert, the love you offered with open, unguarded hands— it did not come back the way you imagined. And still… you are here. So instead of fighting what refuses to bend, you loosen your grip. Not in defeat— but in awakening. You release the need to be answered, to be chosen, to be understood by those who never learned your language. Your hands, once reaching outward, begin to rise— not in desperation, but in devotion. Upward. Open. Steady. God… I see You now in the quiet I once avoided. I hear You not in the thunder— but in the space where my striving used to live. And I am ready. Something within ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Do Not Resuscitate (DNR)

What unsettles me most about some people is not the harm they cause— but the silence that follows it. No conviction. No trembling. No evidence that a soul was ever stirred. As if something sacred once lived there… and quietly left. What remains is form without fire. A body that breathes, but does not  feel . A Walking corpse. Spiritually vacant,  yet socially skilled— fluent in imitation, but foreign to truth. They move through people like weather— touching everything, anchoring nowhere. I once mistook that emptiness for mystery. Confused detachment with depth. Thought restraint was discipline, when it was really disconnection. But there was  no rootedness in him— only appetite. An endless hunger dressed as desire. A man grazing on bodies, scrolling through souls like they were disposable moments. Not searching. Not building. Just consuming— to quiet something unnamed within him. Unhealed wounds don’t stay still. They wander. From bed to bed, from face to face, from high ...
Post a Comment
Read more