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Warriors

W A R R I O R S – a brave or experienced soldier or fighter.

In some part of our lives we become warriors (fighters). We fight to become more of what we are, to achieve, to forgive or ether become a better person. There are different battlefields ether in life or spiritually even mentally. Some where born “fighters” others became “fighters”. We all have different battlefields, we learn form ours and also from others what they overcame or reach as the fight each day.

Warriors; I have a family full of them, ether a fight over cancer or any other disease. We all have something to fight for, We fight to reach something to prove that “we can” that there is no such thing as “I can’t”. But that everything is possible if you believe and fight for it. There are some battles where the only way to reach victory is “Kneeling” and letting GOD fight for us.

“We are not victims, we are conquerors. We are Victorious”

We are brave we are Warriors.

But don’t give up. No, rather “take courage! Do not let your hands be weak, for your work shall be rewarded” (2 Chronicles 15:7).

Don’t give up when you feel that deep soul weariness from long battles with persistent weaknesses.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2 Corinthians 12:8–9)

Don’t give up when your long asked-and-sought-and-knocked-for prayers have not yet been answered.

And he told them [the parable of the persistent widow] to the effect that they ought always to pray and not lose heart. (Luke 18:1)

Don’t give up when waiting  seems endless.

Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40:30–31)

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An Ode to Roots in a Clay Pipe

Amanda Mininger

The wide world of your dreams. The strange things
that happen in your sleep.
The way your heart beats and heat throbs where it shouldn’t
in daylight.
And the cry: what does it all mean?

In some ways, I remember him like yesterday.
In other ways, I cannot conjure
his face, his smile, mouth, lips, hands, walk…
all the best parts of him.

I think it’s because I sent him away.

It’s nature’s cruel trick—making you forget—as punishment
for the breaking of a heart.
But sometimes I think
it’s my heart that was broken.
It must be, for the procession of dreams that come
when I am most at peace,
and then the days of wondering, the moments
lost in memory afterward.

He is gone. Married, children…all the usual things.
And I have been gone even longer, looking
away
walking
away
going after “mine,” whatever “mine” was. Now,
when I…

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The courage to love
It takes courage to love again
When you’ve been hurt
It takes pain and strength again
to pack it all away
somewhere
in all the pain
somebody has to have the courage
to be ok
he gives me courage
to Love