Tag Archives: fighter

The Love of a Fighter.

First. Watch this.

Now. Listen to this while you read.

So. Many. Emotions. Being a girl sucks.

Actually I love it. Boys are too smelly. Plus we don’t sweat, we sparkle. And that’s pretty cool.

If you have kept up with anything I’ve been doing lately (which… no one does), you might know that my cousins have been missing for the past week. And by missing, I mean no one knew where they were or where to even start looking.
Let’s take a step back. I’ve been trying to contact them for 5 years now. But since I moved back to Knoxville, I feel like I’ve kicked it up a notch. And because they only live 45 minutes away, it’s so easy. Knock on their door, leave letters and notes where they could find them, call, email, sit on the porch until the neighbors get creeped out. I’ve felt like I have been doing everything in my power to fight for them.

We used to be best, best friends.
When we were little we would run around Mama’s house and climb trees, build leaf forts, and write, practice and preform plays that were sure to make us celebrities one day. I also remember the very day I realized I wasn’t 8 anymore and couldn’t climb my favorite tree. I’ll admit that wasn’t my best day.

When we were older we would write songs and sing at the top of our lungs in Mama’s sunroom. Never mind that the whole family was trying to have Thanksgiving dinner in the next room. We were going to be famous for goodness sake.

We were so fun.

Then we grew up… And apart for that matter.

They were, and always will be my family, but for some reason we didn’t keep in touch for the few years between then and now. And I regret that. Maybe I could have changed everything. Maybe I could have prevented all of this. Maybe things would be different.

When I moved back I started visiting at a least once if not twice a month. I’ve done that for almost a year now, and wish I had started sooner. But not one time did anyone answer that front door. But something made me keep going back.

Something good this way comes.

Tonight I spoke with April and Amanda for the first time in five years. I use the word ‘spoke’ loosely because it was mostly broken words between sobs and snorts. I have been praying through what feels like every waking moment for the Lord to bring them home. And not home, in the physical sense. Home to me, to my family, to their dad, to Love. To Comfort. To Peace. To the satisfying, unequivocal, unfaltering, incomparable fighting power of our Holy. Lord. God. Almighty. (Oh law, I’m gettin’ worked up…)

He FIGHTS for us! Did you hear me??

FIGHTS!!! It’s a hold the phone, pause the movie, stop everything, who’s touching my robe in this crowd of 2,000 people kind of Love!! It’s ridiculous! We so don’t deserve it. And just as the Lord gave me the push to keep fighting for my cousins, He pushes so much harder to be the Savior of your soul and mine.

I felt so discouraged because I didn’t do enough. Because I wasn’t mounting up to enough. Because I couldn’t say enough to make them notice or want to see me. But if that ain’t the devil I don’t know what is!

I didn’t know how the Lord was going to use all of this in my heart until today. And although I am, in fact, still wallowing in a glass case of emotion, I know this to be true: The Lord is my FIGHTER. Yeeeeahhh buddy! There is SO much joy in that it’s ridic. (Bear with me, it’s getting late.)

I think I am so big and independent, but truth is, I need someone to fight for me. We all do. I thought all that fighting I was doing was for nothing. But it totally wasn’t. And I see that now.
I can’t wait to start this new life with my beautiful family that I’ve missed so much. They are the Lord’s. They are protected. They are loved. They are safe.

All these things are true for you too. Every waking moment, every sleeping breath, He’s fighting for your life. Gosh, that’s a big bite to chew. He brings us home, to where we belong.

His Love never fails. Go to sleep wrapped up in that comfort, friends.

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