This is how I fight my battles

“This is how I fight my battles,” I sang under my breath. 

My hands lifted unapologetically in the air. My knees pulled to my chest. The pink hospital gown draped loosely over my body. A small “yes” written in my own handwriting visible from the opening in the front. 

“Yes” you may cut my body open. 
“Yes” that is in fact the side where the lump was found.
“No” I will not give into the fear that is literally clawing away at me from the inside.

The nurse had disappeared out the door in search of the doctor.

After walking in such peace for the past two months, all of my emotions chose THIS exact moment to come to the surface. No, not now, not here. God had asked me to trust Him in this, but to be honest, I was tired. Every part of me was tired. So when the door shut behind her, all I could do to keep from falling apart was to lift my hands and sing.

Worship had become my weapon. But in my brokenness, my praise was more of an anchor than a flag of victory. A lifeline when I needed it the most.

“It may look like I’m surrounded but I’m surrounded by you.” I sang in cracked whispers as I brushed back heavy tears. The weight of the unknown settling in.

In that moment through my tears, God met me in that hospital room. He had asked me to trust Him on this journey, trust Him enough to not run to others... not yet. Well days turned to weeks and weeks to months. The doctors visit, the mammogram, the ultrasound, and now the biopsy, each giving cause for the next. Finally the day had come to know the truth and as God often does in my life, it was just He and I sitting alone waiting together.

I knew there was a very real spiritual battle taking place in the middle of this physical and mental one. But as I lifted my hands and sang, my tears stopped, my breathing slowed and my heart found rest. The situation hadn’t changed but my worship had changed how I was responding to the situation.

After months of waiting, these results came only the following day.
-The tumor was benign.-
A diagnosis I never thought I’d be in the position to hear, but so incredibly grateful for those words.

And once again I found myself hands lifted high.

For worship is not only my weapon in times of struggle, but my gratitude in seasons of relief. It is my default in almost every circumstance.

Worship doesn’t have to be done from a mountaintop. It’s not only meant to be found within the four walls of the church. It’s something we carry with us. It can be done on a closet floor, in a car, at a graveside or even sitting in a hospital bed. It’s only requirement is a heart postured towards God. Worship combats fear, doubt, anxiety, depression, anger and sadness and it’s available to everyone, everywhere.

Our praise is our weapon and it has power. 💗