I Am Warrior.
I. Am. Warrior.
I thought I needed to find my warrior name. I mean there are ways to discover your cat warrior name. Whatever that means! I wanted to know what kind of warrior I was, but the search was hopeless. I have no warrior name. At least that is what I thought. I thought I needed to discover my warrior name, but instead I discovered my name defines warrior in infinite measure. Alexandra is a Greek name that literally means, Defender of Men. My name is Warrior. It is to defend, to protect, and to ward off. I have the heart of a daughter and the Lord has called on me and said that within me, He has created the heart of a warrior. In all actuality, it is the pain that shapes a woman into a warrior. Hm. I am in fact a warrior in more ways than you or anyone will ever know.
"A warrior is a woman who gets up despite the enemy trying to destroy her. A woman who declares victory before seeing it. A woman who believes she receives her miracles, because she knows the Lord she serves is alive and powerful." Anonymous
Now I’m a warriorNow I’ve got thicker skinI’m a warriorI’m stronger than I’ve ever been.
Five years ago, I became diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. A year and a half ago, I stopped taking insulin. And almost 11 months ago I went back on insulin treatment and the following months would look drastically different for me. I would begin to understand the elements of trust, vulnerability, and risk in this journey called faith. I would experience the messiness of faith, and I would learn for the first time how real lamenting would become. 
Robin Roberts quoted, "When I was first diagnosed, I wasn't going to tell anyone. But my mother's advice was to "make your mess your message." I learned that it takes a lot of courage to get up and to know that the best is yet to come." Robin, your words could not be more true. And I, quite honestly, felt this same way. When I was first diagnosed, I so desperately wanted to hide myself away. I did not feel like telling anyone. I also knew the seriousness of my disease would not let me get away with this. Nine months ago, I decided it was time to make my mess my message. It takes a lot of courage to get up and to know the best is yet to come. I have firsthand experience with this. I'm choosing to get up and fight this good fight. Here is what it looks like to let pain shape you into a warrior.
December 2017
I sat in that Doctor office and I had never felt so alone. I couldn't feel God's presence. I couldn't hear his voice because it honestly did not feel like the Lord was near to me. I knew he had a new story and he would turn this all around. But in this moment there was just confusion and despair. I had listened to the voice of God my entire life, and I had never betrayed him. But where was he now? Why am I so downcast, God? Why am I in this place? Joy has been stolen from me. Why did you let me down, God? This was me nearly eleven months ago questioning the place I found myself in. I sat in this cold waiting room, knowing that I had failed and betrayed my body in every possible way. I had a touch of healing, and then everything de-escalated in the fall. I experienced a multitude of complications and symptoms in a total of two months. Things were definitely not looking good for me. I questioned if the Lord was really for me. I questioned the goodness of the Lord. But I mostly questioned if I really knew the voice of the Lord. Because it didn't feel like it at this particular time. Two weeks before Christmas, I went back on insulin therapy. I began the process of finger pricking and needle shots all over again. When the healing did not come, I desperately wanted to hide in a corner. I felt so strongly about it that I did not share this with anyone. I felt such shame for my mess. So much so, I hid the disease from everyone for about two and a half months. I was not ready to make my mess my message. I dealt with the mess myself. This was my mess. This was my mistake. And the last thing that I needed was the self-pity from other people. My shame ran so deep that for two months I gave myself insulin shots in the bathroom. I believed people would be ashamed of me. This was the most difficult season for me. I felt the full weight of anxiety and depression. Type 1 Diabetics are much more prone to anxiety. But we also show great bravery in the midst of this. There is always a fear of something being wrong again. If my pancreas is broken, what else is going to break? When I witnessed my first high blood sugar, I had my first panic attack. I was physically sick with myself.
"Everyday there are highs & lows, multiple injections or a constant drip of an insulin pump. Everyday there are health issues to deal with. Everyday this disease has to be managed. It can not be controlled. It may be silent to you but Type 1 Diabetics fight everyday and all you usually see is their smile. If you know one, you know a hero."- Anonymous
February 2018
Things were starting to get back to normal. I was connecting myself back to this disease. The Lord was calling on me to speak this message. The Lord gave me this word to speak. I knew I wasn't ready to speak this message. The Lord wanted me to speak on the brokenness and disappointment I was feeling. And you know how I responded? "Heck, no." I mean, I'm sorry, God. But I did this whole obedient thing once already and I think I'm good right now. I do not want to do this. I would rather not make my mess my message. Obedience is not easy. I was walking in obedience but it was more like complying to what God was asking. That is actually what it means to obey. "Obedience is compliance with an order, request, or law or submission to one's authority." I might have been walking in obedience, but I definitely wasn't trusting God. Trust was hard for me. I didn't know how to do that. But the Lord was showing me the power of my testimony even in the midst of my darkest season. "It might feel like it will cost you. But I want you to see that this message will also release you. The power I have given you is the power of your testimony and the authority I have given you is the choice to reject disappointment." When I see those high blood sugar numbers, I have to remind myself that this is not on me. I see it and I pause: "It's not your fault." Diabetes doesn't have me in this moment or in any moment of the future. It doesn't have authority over me anymore.
May 2018
"You're going to carry this illness for the rest of your life. So you can either wallow in the weight of that, or you can fight for your only life and make it a good story." - Lyss Trayers
I wallowed. Oh man, have I wallowed! I have wallowed in the weight of this disease. I have wallowed in my weakness. But I learned to choose to fight for my only life. I chose to fight for my life through running to the finish line and this would become a metaphor. My first 5K would be the ground to freedom. Running helped me find strength and discipline in my disease and it permeated my entire being. I would take back my life and tear down the lie that Diabetes had authority over me. Diabetes shapes me, but it doesn't define me. It is apart of me, but not all of me. I want people to know that I don't talk about my disease for pity, sympathy, or attention. I wish people knew that I talk about it because it's such a huge part of my life, whether I want it or not. I want to help others who are dealing with similar hurdles. To inform. To explain. Not to get pitied. And certainly not to be looked down upon or judged.
"God finds beauty in imperfections. He finds you beautiful with your insulin pump. First thing I noticed about you was strength. I see strength and discipline and beauty in that."
I lived in a dark season. I felt full anger. I felt disappointed. And I looked away. But He called my name and showed me what freedom looks like. What it means to know the Father. He was moving me from sitting position to getting up and walking. He was leading me from despair to hope. From disappointment to overwhelming joy. From enslavement to freedom. I ripped off all the layers of identity and found the true me He created and loves.
"The difficult seasons we walk through are how we learn to build up strength to manage any situation." Rachel Hollis, Girl, Wash Your Face.
A couple weeks ago, I received a prophetic picture from the Lord. This picture revealed the place I have been to where I am presently. This is a representation of the journey with the Lord from disappointment to hope. From weakness to strength. The barren and dry tree transforms into a tree that blooms with life. It refers to what once looked dead and barren has come to life in such full beauty. As I sat with the Lord with this picture, the Lord pointed me to the roots. My lovely friend, Bekah Bowman, wrote a blog about roots that is so beautifully applicable to me in this season. And I'm so grateful that the Lord reminded me of it.
Wanna know why I can't be plucked from the garden of joy? When that hand of hate, jealousy, anger, bitterness, or selfishness tries to pull me out, my roots cling tight, dive deep, wrap around the other roots growing deep. One tries to pull my flower out, but they really have to contend with a mass of roots that have intertwined below.
This web of deep strong roots is a result of God's love. He is deep in us and when we face a storm on the surface - my leaves and petals taking a beating no flower could appear to endure - he holds tight to my roots, weaves them through the roots of other flowers. As the storm goes on, I don't wilt. I don't become uprooted. I firmly stand my ground in the soil of LIFE. And others around me too! We will add radiant colors in the gray skies, sweet smells as bitter rain comes down because our roots are d e e p.
It doesn't matter what happens on the surface - deep is where our roots are pulling nutrients. He is providing everything we need to stay up. But...we do look beaten. You see our plight and you cling tight. I might feel this unimaginable storm, but you keep together the most important part of me - my soul. When I, a summer flower, bloom in the dead of frigid winter, people wonder, How?
My roots..
My roots are held deep in love and warmth, surviving and thriving in unthinkable conditions. You give life that doesn't make sense. It appears impossible to live in such a way, a bloomed flower in dead winter. Only a good, redemptive God can give that kind of life. Thank you for deep roots in you, God. For clinging to me deep in my soul so I can survive. Thank you for winding my roots around such strong, wise roots of others. You have won and will continue to win in my heart. Nothing can hold you back. So please Lord, radiate strong from my being, through my broken stem and beaten leaves right to my new and beautiful bloom. Both simultaneously happening on one flower at the same time, demonstrating my broken stem as my weakness and a new bloom on a broken stem as proof that you take brokenness and make it SO beautiful. Thank you, Lord. I love you. Bloom beautiful in me despite my ugly broken stem. (Read more at her blog Can't Steal My Joy).
So, you see, the roots are what matters. The roots matter. The branches might have been bare and dry, but the roots were strong ad deeply set in the dirt. Nothing can damage these roots. Because of the roots, I live today in freedom, not shame. I have taken hold of my joy that was stolen from me. And it will never be taken from me again.