I am waring in the spirit for my promise.
Though sometimes, I am alone with feelings of isolation, I contend for the prize.

Wars are won by fighting small battles.
They determine the relevancy of the individual right to exist without unreasonable limitations.

My bloody hands disclose the battle scars.
Pressing through pain has unlocked my ability to see God’s hands working on the frontlines.

I feel insignificant, like I only exist for others to gain access to their own greatness.
Gideon was afraid, but he only needed three hundred men to fight the mighty battle.
David severed the head of the giant because he remembered how he defeated the lion and the bear.

It seems illogical, but pain and isolation are giving way to my purpose.
I bind up my wounds, remaining steadfast in prayer, looking toward the promise straight ahead.
Though the wounds cut deep, and though I am weary, I am pressing on to reveal God’s gift in me.