A war-torn heart races to battle with busted capillaries extending from end to end.

With what's to come consuming the artery, all duties of heroic expectation get sucked in for hope of success.

The challengers sit on high rocks, rocks of pity and disdain. They release into the air disapproval which give off a feeling of blocking penetration. Damaged areas from previous battles seem more exposed than ever.

In a field of familiarity, forgetfulness begins to resound with the rising knowledge of risky opponents.

Refusing to give up this war and receive the name of Failure, she presses on but blood seeps out. Worry in combat wounds her once stable beat.

The challengers she's fought before, hold their weapons too excellently. Fear threatens her ability to continue and rise above.

Arrhythmia starts to set in and so do doubt's bullets.

Faith begins to lose its glory as trusty armor and resorts to what is better equated as battered scrap. The weakening of it all seems to cause the lowliest of crouching.

Then on the horizon, over the rocks of opposition, shines a glimmer of remembrance.

The heart, still shaky in battle, filled herself with this glimmer. A good and lovely voice slipped in through her valves.

This perfection began to drive the fear far away from her heart.*

A decision was made in that moment to belong to the person of where the voice originated.

On that battlefield, the rocks that were once torturous became a treasury of peaceful moments. They became a mountain where she could climb and absorb the light from the glimmer.

She could sit in admiration, and if her rhythm was ever murmuring doubtful claims of success she knew immediately who to dwell on.

Flowers began to bloom where mistakes were once planted. Creativity made mention her name in its calling.

She began to know herself confidently because she now knew who knew her.

And despite any upcoming battles, she was called a name that fought for itself.

Daughter.

I've seen myself on this field so many times, battling what Jesus has already overcome on my journey. But for some reason, each time feels unbearable still. I think 1. God has no desire for us to forget what He has done for us and 2. for us not to forget who He has called us. We are His because of what He has done. When we do get to this point though, where failure seems so close and we feel incapable, His voice is what guides us into all truth. Whenever I take the time to listen, it's His desire to come in totality and fill us with peace. We're not too far gone on the field... for this is where we are now. But knowing that we are known by the Champion of all is what silences the fear of the future/current extravaganzas and allows us to be more than conquerors in Christ.

* 1 John 4:18 (The Passion Translation)