I WILL MARCH!

I've cried every single day for a month and a half, but I rejoice for God tells me my time is coming, so I hold on through faith. The fog has engulfed me, the darkness, at times, overtakes me, I’m cold, fatigued and have to listen for the faint sound of victory in the distance. It is muffled or is it even there? No, it’s there—you just have to focus your ears on what you believe is there UNTIL it is there!

My General gives me just enough bread (manna) to make it each day. No, it's NOT easy-- far from it, but like a battle-worn soldier I MARCH. I MARCH on with so much fierceness, determination, belief, faith and conviction . . . my MARCH would make the March on Washington by Martin Luther King Jr. and a million men blush!

I am a wounded soldier . . . some wounds come from friendly fire-- those are the most painful and hurt the worst as the bullets pierce my skin, some stem from wandering from the battlefield, out of fear, only to be ambushed with a worse attack, some of the wounds are from bullets, that ripped through my skin, as I tried to find my way through life with the evil intent of killing me and still other wounds are found on my body from my own bayonet-- I knew dangers lurked, hurt and pain peeking around the corner just waiting on their opportunity to pounce, and that I was bound to be attacked . . . by those who love me and by those who hate me . . . so, I just stabbed myself to beat them to the punch or self-inflicted because my General told me to take over, but I insisted on charging instead!! If not for His belief in me . . . I surely would've died.

Yes, I have wounds. They are UGLY! They are the scars of life that show just how treacherous navigating this battlefield can be. The only, imminent, way to not get hit is to get out of the fight! But to NOT fight is to not LIVE~ To NOT love is to not believe~ to not man the trenches is to be NO man at all! Wounds show God’s faithfulness, but they are not meant to serve as our compass, or our roadmap, to determine where we will go next. The beauty of scars is it means you MADE IT THROUGH . . . stop, exhale, look to the Heavens and rejoice—You MADE IT!!

I invite you to MARCH with me. Am I marching in the army of the cross? YES! Am I marching to make this world a brighter place? Yes! Am I marching for myself with every unrealized dream in reach and hope and belief it will make a difference? Yes! Do I wait for my marching orders before I spring into action? Sometimes, but I’m learning to let EVERY step be ordered by the General.

The blood dripping from the brow onto my lips makes me think of life for it was blood that gave me life in the first place. No matter how fierce the battle is, no matter how brutal the war; it pales in comparison to the fierce opposition and gory war our General Christ faced in his 33 years on this Earth! No matter where you find yourself in the war; It’s NO coincidence you find yourself enlisted. Whose side are you fighting on? You are in a war and, if you’re on my side, make no mistake your enemy wants nothing more than to KILL you before dancing over your grave . . . will you let him? Will you let your adversaries have the last laugh? Will you let them kill your spirits, suffocate your dreams and leave you cowering in the foxhole afraid to move a single inch for fear of getting your head blown off?

Before you MARCH up that hill to stake that ground with the flag of victory, tasting its delicious, irreplaceable, taste and smelling its sweet aroma; you must get out of the foxhole! It’s time to FIGHT~ it’s time to MARCH! There are times, I have to let my brave General carry me . . . there are times, I have to lean on my fellow soldiers. Fatigue has overtaken me, fear has paralyzed me and there are moments faith eludes me, but STILL I MARCH!

I’ll be damned if I let a person, whether they’re on my side or not, a circumstance, or ANY wound from my past hold me back. I stand steadfast . . . I remain resolute and I already have the victory! I just have to walk in it. Better yet MARCH.  I'm thankful for every letter, from home, expressing your support, love and encouragement, telling me how much you believe in me and how much you miss me! When I feel as if I've been forgotten, and I'm trying to keep warm, as I use the campfire for light . . . they remind me victory will be mine!! Just as important, they remind me I am loved.

Am I scared? Does uncertainty hang over my life like dark clouds? Clouds, yes. Are they dark? Possibly. Will the sun peek through? While I don’t know what the future holds, more than any point in my 34 years, I do KNOW the General will gladly take a bullet for me . . . so I MARCH after all, He already took three nails!