The sun peaks over the edge of the horizon separating the line between earth and sky. Darkness quickly fades and warmth begins to kiss every surface of the land. The morning is like a breath of hope, a turning point from the night. This is it. The moment she longed for when she shut her eyes to rest. Every circumstance was left at the door of dreams, and now, as she rises from her sleep, she is presented with a fresh canvas that is awaiting new paint.
She stares at the blank canvas, brush in hand, and her mind slips into a haze as she reflects on her journey. The memories begin to flood her mind filling her with every emotion imaginable. There she sees herself fighting a battle with sword in hand. Her body is covered in armor, her hair matted, and her face marked with the wear from her enemy. She runs with fierce intent and swings at her adversary striking him to the ground. Without a moment of rest, she continues forcefully toward the next opponent stabbing him in the gut and leaving him lifeless before her. She doesn’t stop. She doesn’t quit. One combatant after another she makes her way across the battle field killing them off like old habits and petty lies that she no longer has the desire to struggle with.
She is trailed by her comrades, soldiers dedicated to fighting alongside her every bit of the way. She glances quickly to the left and to the right making eye contact with the soldiers on either side of her. Courage and strength never left her side, and for a brief moment she breathes in the beauty of the community surrounding her. She never fought alone. The faith it took for her to fight this battle was supported by the army that uplifted and thrust her forward. They fight and they fight hard never giving in to the deafening screams of doubt. This battle has drug on for what seems like an eternity, yet they are now well trained with perpetual endurance.
Finally, the low rumble of the battle field slowly fades into the peaceful sound of victory. She looks around at the aftermath of this death-match. Standing firm in the muddy turf, she breathes heavily from the interminable fight. Strength rests on her shoulders. Hope envelopes her entire being. She whips her body around, her hair quickly following as it swipes across her muddy face. Her eyes scan the field, catching a glimpse of the army scattered around her standing in awe of this glorious victory. Every scar on her body serves as a reminder that she overcame. She overcame the struggle and found joy and hope in the midst of hardship. Some wounds extend deep, but they still heal. Each mark is a brick laid in the foundation of her destiny.
Her eyes begin to focus on the blank canvas gaining clarity through the haze. The once envisioned sword is now replaced by the paint brush in her hand. The brush touches the white surface, and the story starts to unfold. One stroke and then another and then another. Each streak adding to this beautiful portrait of life. Every color compliments the other as they merge to create something greater than themselves. As she paints, the journey to life and new beginnings takes root on this, now covered, canvas. What were once the shadowed memories of her heart are now the captivating illustration of a life being made divine. With every stroke of the brush she takes a step toward the beauty awaiting her. She moves farther from the past, gains ground in the present, and is filled with excitement for the future. No matter the battles ahead, she moves forward full force. Now’s your time. Pick up your sword. Warrior, advance.