Walk On, Daughter

Walk On, Daughter

My enemy knows me.
Moments of weakness leave me wide open and raw.
He takes his shot.
Again. Again. Again.
Fisting into barely-healed scars,
He circles.
Predatory.
Insidious.
He knows he can't take anything away,
So he slyly badgers me instead,
Trying to trick me into throwing my gifts away;
Trading love for passion,
security for possibility,
And trust for control.
He sees my shaky hands,
And the lies begin their familiar flow,
Washing over me,
Bathing me in clinging, oily doubt.
Maybe I made the wrong decisions.
Maybe I am trapped.
Maybe I need to run away.
Maybe I've been fooling myself all along.
Maybe everything I've ever believed is wrong.
Maybe I'm missing out on the great life I could have if only I was brave enough to leave the one I possess.
Lies. Lies.
But lies frequently spoken can wear down a mountain of faith.
Where can I go for safety and rest?
I flee to a waiting Father.
His voice speaks truth louder than my fears.
He leads me past memorials of faithfulness rewarded.
He exposes the lies.
Shadows retreat from him.
He laughs at my enemy, who has wet himself and fled.
He puts a great arm around me, tender and strong.
"Walk on, daughter. I am enough."
He is.