battle wounds

Dear Daddy,

I love you. 

I’m thankful You’re the Creator.

Thank you King Jesus.

Last night’s sermon was confirmation to what my soul needed. Last night’s sermon was my renewal in my hope, and a sharpening to strengthen my faith. I walked into Hillsong last night bitter and angry, and I left those emotions at the altar, faithfully clearing those distractive clutters from my scared space of God’s Grace. All is not lost. I was reminded in a timely fashion that:

I am found.

I am flawed.

I am free.

I am forgiven.

My past did not kill me. My past is now seen in a new lens. I no longer talk in the sinking by thinking slum of sinful condemnation. My mistakes are my battle wounds that pruned, and fine tuned me to see biblically unapologetically. 

I proudly step away from the decay’s of yesterday’s, and the rewind of time. I proudly step away from the toxic, and chaotic prism that choked and provoked my paralyzing lies, to misguide me to die on the inside. I proudly step away from the stake in my fake, that shakes me to flee with the enemy in misery. 

As God’s daughter, I am called to conquer my pitfalls by giving my King, who makes my soul sing my all. I’m blessed with this confession, for this is my protection. I breathe with ease, over and under to praise in the rain of blunders by His Wings. My battle wounds are now used to sharpen, and fine tune God’s Beautiful Chosen. 

I was nine years old when I was inappropriately touched by a former pediatrician. Although I was young, something in me knew a pediatrician isn’t licensed to do that, nor is a pediatrician licensed to request the removal of my undergarments. Thank God nothing happened. I tried to address this with my mother. As I scribe these words, I didn’t comprehend that my discernment, and the other gifts you’ve blessed me with Daddy were with me since back then. I picked up my mother’s fear, and her inability to speak on the matter as if she was triggered by her own past. A vision of what looked like my mother as an older teen, and some guy that wasn’t my father or my sister’s father. The vision came fast and left faster, but I remember seeing my mother’s discomfort and fear, then it went away. 

I never told my mom about the vision, because she’s easily uncomfortable with supernatural. My mom and I did have a real conversation about that when I was an older teenager myself. I told my sister about what happened to me with my former pediatrician, and she made sure he stopped practicing medicine. She didn’t tell me what she did. Knowing her I probably don’t want to know. At nine I wasn’t mature enough to understand that my mother had her own issues. At nine I felt abandoned, and apart of me stopped trusting my mother. After that moment I was always ready for war with her. Lord, I lay down that anger and unforgiving spirit that allowed me to be blind for so long. Please hold me accountable to be only in love with my mother, and reach me to respond to her as you need me to. Amen.

Lord, I also lay down my expectations on my mother. Talking to my father earlier today, made me realize that as humans, if we hold onto expectations then we are leaving a window freely open for satan to enter our space, and cultivate lies that make us flee in misery with the enemy by sleepwalking. God as I learn how to dance, and praise in this rain. I see all these trials are changing me to be the woman you always called me to be. I’m completely thankful for my adversaries, because my positive reflection shows me everything will be used for God’s Glory. I choose to let this battle wound be used, to sharpen and fine tune God’s Beautiful Chosen. 

Other pivotal moments in my path called life, are when I failed at taking my own life, and my mental breakdowns. Thank you King Jesus that I failed at taking a life I didn’t create, and for truly teaching me understanding on what spiritual warfare really is, through my breakdowns that only you God healed me from. I had no concept of what spiritual warfare was before these experiences. Attacks are too real that humans can’t pretend that attacks aren’t reeling feelings. Those experiences felt like I was in a dark abyss rabbit hole, sitting across a dinner table with the devil himself, and realizing I don’t want to flee with the enemy in misery anymore. It took my pain to be that severe, for me to be aware that God is greater. God is our Creator that can only satisfy what dwells inside. Before these experiences, I was perfectly comfortable in my sleepwalking stagnancy fleeing with the enemy. 

Instead of rewinding time to focus on the locus of my mistakes, I’m staking my claim to no longer be ashamed or lame, by flipping the script to equip the blind, to find the sight in the Light in Jesus Christ. My life was created for purpose not the vulgarity of popularity. After my final stay by my mental breakdown decay, Jojo* and I reconnected, she invited me to our old church. I meet the he God says is for me, Jojo got saved, and I rededicated my life back to Christ. We got baptized shortly afterwards both for the first time together. The writing in my aligning story is designed to be for God’s Glory. In unity for all humanity to see faithfully and godly to be set free.

I decided to praise in the rain always.

I decided to use my battle wounds,

as a tool not be a fool that returns

to the burns of her own folly.

I decided to be godly and jolly 

to sharpen and fine tune 

God’s Beautiful Chosen.

I decided to be the spark in 

the dreadful dark by the sight

of Light in Jesus Christ, so 

God’s Beautiful Chosen

can no longer be stronger

in blindingly hiding what’s not

right by misguided pride inside.

Thank you King.

Love your daughter.

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy 


3 thoughts on “battle wounds

  1. Thank you for sharing! And thank you for raw openness about where you are at with your walk with God. Love you sis…So proud of you….xoxo πŸ˜πŸ˜˜πŸ€—πŸ’žβ€πŸ’—

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