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.