I smell metal and dirt.
The landscape of my life is a war zone.
Friend or foe? Hard to tell.
Where peace lived has been razed.
God, where are you?
I taste metal and dirt.
My mouth is full of loss and pain…
I will never again be the girl I was.
Choking on reality and refusing to swallow it down.
God, why are You allowing this?
I feel metal and dirt.
I am dead, under foot.
But…this is not the end; it’s only the beginning.
I descended a victim. I will rise a warrior.
God, I know what You want me to do.
————
It took almost losing it all before I realized what I had within me. I was not called to sit and watch this battle rage, to count the bodies as they fell in their stead. I had been waiting for reinforcements, someone to arrive and seize control, make it all okay. It would never be okay. Stop sitting by. Stop staying “safe”. There is no such thing as safe, its an illusion.
Rise up. Take your place. Fight for your life.
A year ago, I walked through Hope’s birthplace…now a warzone. I left the “danger” of the Middle East to return home, only to discover the fiercest fight I’ve ever faced. Hand-to-hand combat with hell itself. I died...and yet, I live.
O LORD, You have brought up my soul from Sheol;
You have kept me alive, that I would not go down to the pit.
- Psalm 30:3