My whole life has been one fight after another. I am the middle child of seven so I had to fight to be heard, fight to be seen, fight to be acknowledged, I had to fight to survive in a house full of women and one boy. When I went to college I thought I wouldn't have to fight anymore but the battles were still there the only ting that had changed was the geography. In relationships I had to fight to be respected, honored, understood, accepted. I had to fight to make good grades and balance my social life with my academic one. Go too far either way and you risk losing the battle of obtaining a well rounded education. As a christian I've had to fight against the prejudice and mockery that often comes from choosing that religion. I had to fight against labels like Jesus Freak, bible thumper, holy roller, and religious nut job. The outside world is fraught with danger on all sides. Even inside a church there are labels and gossip and popularity contests. I know that may shock some non church goers but more often than not church is just high school with more traditions to be observed. I'm not an 'Individual", I"m not a socialist, or a Marxist. I don't believe its the governments job to take care of me or mine and I don't expect them to solve the countries, or the worlds, problems. I don't fit into any standard category and I don't judge those that do.
In my youth I believed in fairness and justice and the American Way. I'm older now and I'm the veteran of many of life's battles. I'm still young only in my 30's and I know this life has more pain and suffering to teach me, I know there are more battles to fight, I also know that nothing is black and white, the white knight does not exist in our physical world and life is messy and complicated like all battlefields are. Yet I find myself wondering what happens to a soldier when he's too tired to march? What happens to the warrior that's to old or too tired to pick up his sword one more time, what happens when the fighting ends? Where do we battle hardened survivors end up? Do we wash up on some sad lonely shore? Do we go on fighting so long that we forget how to enjoy peace and do we even recognize it when it comes? When you've held that sword and shield so long that it's become a part of you, ingrained in everything you do so much so that it's no longer habit it just is how do you learn to let go, put down your weapons, step away from the carnage and the gore and just rest?
How do you stop fighting, and just be? God says "Be still, and know that I am God". Does this mean we don't have to fight? Does this mean that we can lay down our weapons, step aside, and let God do all the rest? How does one BE STILL when ones entire life has been action and reaction?
I don't know the answers some days I don't want to know and other days the puzzle seems to complicated to bother with. I wonder why God gave me a spirit of fire and then made me a woman. I don't know how to bend or capitulate. I don't understand the mentality of a victim. I don't understand how some people seem to enjoy being a victim. I seem to be incapable of pasively letting things happen to me. Is this the mentality of a fighter, a survivor, or someone who is just too scared to Be Still? It's hard for me to depend on others, to trust others, or in some cases to put up with others. I am by nature a quality over quantity person. I keep very few close friends and I enjoy mass quantities of time alone. I am not and never will be a social butterfly because society as a whole confuses and confounds me. I may never understand myself fully and I think i'm ok with that. Questions keep us nimble and quick two skills needed to survive. I can count on one hand the number of people I consider best friends.
Laurie my oldest and closest friend. She was there with and for me through the hell fires of junior high and high school. We stood back to back against the perils of young adulthood and the pitfalls of marriage. Now we share the adventure of motherhood. She is my sister born in the fires of adolescent and tempered through the years of adulthood. No matter how much time passes between visits it is always as if no time has gone at all. She will be the friend that buries me at the end and that tells my children tales of our youth together. She will be the one that always keeps my secrets safe and my accomplishments public.
Rolsa who played high school basketball with me in Wendover and carpooled with me to Jackpot for school and back again. She was the first of us to get her license and she has the heart of gold that Laurie and I lack. If Laurie is fire Rolsa is water. She is cool and calm in the face of strife. She keeps us level headed and our feet on the ground. Rolsa is our warrior monk who reminds us that life is short and precious and should be cherished. She is the last to lose her temper and the first to offer peace. She is the caretaker for her family and she embodies the spirit of hearth and home. Don't ever mistake Rolsa for a shallow pond because still waters run deep and when the wind of her ire is unleashed she is a gale force on the open ocean. Sweet, gentle, loving, caring Rolsa who always reminds me that fire is extinguished by water.

For a long time we were a band of three. Sisters not by blood but by Gods design. Each of us different from the other. Each of us strong where the other was weak and always there to lend our strength to the other when needed. That was until recently when I met Roxanne. I never imagined I'd find a sister in arms in St.Louis. I was resigned to my long distance friendships and content with the many mothers I had met through the mommy board. Then one night at an MNO (moms night out) I met Roxanne. At first I didn't really notice her. She wasn't loud, she wasn't rude, or a drama queen or any of those things that usually make a person stick out. I was there to have fun, mingle with the new moms and try to spend a little time with everyone. I wasn't looking for a fast friend. I wasn't LOOKING and that was the problem. God must have sighed in exasperation at me that night because he gave me another opportunity, another chance, to see the person he had put before me. Thankfully I wasn't a fool twice and I did notice her. I talked to her, I texted her and met her, and hung out with her. I can't tell you for sure how she came to be friend, I think the best friendships are often the ones where they seem to just always have been, no beginning and no end. All I can say is that she is there. Roxanne is has become the air that feeds the fire and gives it life. If your blessed to be her friend she will never desert you. She will listen without judgement, She will give you an ear or two if you need it. Roxanne is constant, steady, and no matter where in this wide world she finds herself she will always find time for the ones she keeps close.

Now we are a band of four. We have each other near and far to cry with, laugh with, rage with. I always liked the number four.

I am a fighter, I am a survivor, and while I may not ever understand anything else about myself than this I know that I do not fight alone. I have my sisters in arms. I have God throughout and at the end.

Where do warriors go when the fighting is at an end? Maybe they just go to their friends and spend their golden years reliving the battles of their youth.