Warrior

 
I've shared this before but it fits with the word today.  Hubby once told me that I was a fighter.  I laughed at him.  There is no way I was the fighter he saw.  I laughed and asked him why.

"Because if you weren't a fighter you would have married the abusive boy.  People who aren't fighters don't have the courage to get out of those kinds of situations.  If you weren't a fighter you wouldn't have waited for the man who would die for you."

I thought his words were kind, overrated but still kind.  I have come to realize he was right.  I am a fighter. I am a warrior.  Sure I left the boy who hurt me, but that isn't what I think makes me a fighter.  I'm a warrior because anorexia knocked me back on my ass and I am still getting up again.  I'm a fighter because depression, anxiety, and suicidal ideations have plagued me my entire life but I haven't let them beat me.  I'm a warrior because I have the strength to get up one more time than I fall down.

This was my favorite song when I was young.  I always felt a sense of calm when I heard it.  I always knew deep inside of me, no matter how broken I have felt, no matter how weak I have been, no matter what storms were going on in and around me, that I could run to His arms when I was battle-weary.