A Battle Scar Mixed With Tiger Strips

Real.
Raw.
And from my heart.

I struggle with my body imagine. I am not sure if my struggle is normal. Most conversations I have

with women about body imagine revolves around losing weight. Yes, I do need to lose weight. Not a little weight either. Let's just say the love handles are easy to grab. The love handles are an issue along with the title of this blogpost.

Birthing children the natural way never came easy for me. I have had four cesarean sections. Across my lower abdomen is a scar. Each time I see that scar, I feel as though my body betrayed me in some way. That scar is not suppose to be there. One look at that scar will send a range of emotions.

I stand closer to the mirror only to see strips that resemble those of a tiger. I want to talk about my tiger strips. If other women have tiger strips, I want to hear about them. When I am having a heart to heart conversation with another woman, I hope she brings up the subject of stretch marks. Perhaps she is waiting for me to talk about it first.

Why the struggle?

I read an article online about how to look sexy for your husband. While reading it, there were some helpful tips. What was not helpful was the picture that came with the article. The woman was not nude or anything like that. She was just perfect.

Later that night my husband wanted to leave the lights on. No special reason. He just wanted to look at me. My mind reflected on the article I read earlier that day. I have never had a problem with him looking at me. I am happy my husband still wants to take a look at this ole gal.

Within minutes he could tell that something was wrong. It took a little time, but I finally opened up. I could not understand why the body that I felt betrayed me; left me with a scar and tiger strips could be so pleasing to his eye. At that moment, I was not comfortable in the skin that I was in. Not my caramel skin as he calls it. The skin that was warped from bearing children.

My husband told me that he was proud of my scar. That scar meant that I bore him children. He had never noticed the tiger strips until I had him take a closer look.

I found out in the midst of that conversation that when I speak negatively about my body, it hurts him. It hurts him because that is not how he sees me. He sees a scar. Not just any scar, but a battle scar. He asked me to start loving my body for just the way it is.

Cannon Beach, Oregon at a women's retreat

I am starting to love my body. The body that I thought once betrayed me was created by the Creator of heaven and earth. My Creator took time to form this body out of my husband's rib. Having a battle scar mixed with tiger strips is on the same body with the breast to satisfy my husband at all times and he is to be ravished always with my love. (Proverbs 5:19)

Loving yourself means loving your body as well. 

The Cry of a Daughter's Heart

Before I ever start to write this post, let me take a deep breath. *sigh* That felt good and was much needed :)

I read something online recently that caused my heart to hurt and my mind to ponder. After reading it, I thought about the teens and young women that I've interacted with over the years. There seems to be a common thread that flow among them. Many of them are crying out for help. Many are longing for the ear of their mothers to hear the heart's cry.

What does the heart of a daughter cry out for?

She's crying out for help. She's crying out because she feels as though she may be losing her way and don't know how to tell you. She's crying out for you to show her how to make the right choices. She's crying out to be taught what to do about the attention she craves from the opposite sex...She's literally crying. Crying about so many things; but the main thing is because she needs her mother.

I have two daughters, ages 22 and 13. I'm far from being perfect and knowing what it takes to be a mother to daughters. All I knew was that I needed to be there and still need to be there for my daughters. Since I'm not perfect, I decided early on that I would be honest with my daughters so that they don't repeat the same mistakes I did.

Sometimes my honesty resulted in laughter because my girls would say, "MOM you did that!" On the flip side, my times of honesty resulted in many tears. Those tears were healing for me as well as a visual learner for my girls to see how wrong choices can lead to pain.

I can't tell mothers what to do or not to do concerning daughters. All I can say is that many are crying. I implore mothers not to let their daughter's cry go unheard. If you don't answer her cry, some young man will. I pray that the young man is mature enough to not take advantage of the vulnerable young woman, but will encourage her to find her identity in Christ.

Here's the quote I read that my heart to hurt and caused my mind to ponder:

"One day a handsome young gentleman alighted from a train that was making a short stopover. As he paced the platform, he soon attracted the attention of a young girl. She watched him flirtatiously out of the corner of her eye, coughed a little, and laughed merrily and a bit loudly with a group of her acquaintances; but at first he paid no attention. this piqued her,... and she made more ardent efforts to attract his attention; for her companions were teasing her at her failure to "land her catch". Her power of attraction was being tested.

At last he noticed, turned, and came directly to her, while her foolish little heart was all in a flutter at her success. She meant to do no more than to chat with him a few moments, and by so doing satisfy her vanity as to her attractiveness, and clear herself of the charge of weakness the girls had teasingly made.

"My dear girl," he said, tipping his hat, "have a mother at home?"

"Why, yes," the girl stammered.

"Then go to her and tell her to keep you with her until you learn how you ought to behave in a public place," and saying this he turned and left her in confusion and shame. It was a hard rebuke; but this man had told her only what every pure-minded man and woman was thinking."

{from "Beautiful Girlhood" pg. 130-131}

The Marriage Bed

Bone of my Bone,
Flesh of my flesh
Breathe of my breathe
...My refuge, My safe haven
is in your arms with my head upon your chest
My covering, my protection
Enveloped with complete security.
listening to the rhythm of your heartbeat
It plays my favorite melody.
Your fingers run through every strand of my hair
a soft kiss on my head
Falling asleep in my favorite place,
pure and undefiled,
is our marriage bed.

By: Katrina Smith

Katrina Smith is the author of the book The Butterfly Movement ~ From Survival to Purpose

"My beloved is mine, and I am his." -Song of Solomon 2:16

Here lately I've been getting emails from women asking me what's acceptable in the marriage bed. What's acceptable in the marriage bed will vary from couple to couple. In saying that, I do know what is not acceptable. What is not acceptable is another person. In order for the marriage bed to be the sacred place God intended for the husband and wife, there cannot be any other person or anything that will distract the husband from pleasing his wife, the wife from pleasing her husband.

"Behold, you are handsome, my beloved! Yes, pleasant! Also our bed is green." -Song of Solomon 1:16

The Shulamite woman said something here about their bed that really stood out to me. She said their bed is green. When something is green, it has life. There was life in their marriage bed. God's original intent for the marriage bed was not death, but life. Our marriage bed should be pure, undefiled and full of life.

Proverbs 31:12

 

As a Christian, I strive to be like that woman Proverbs 31 makes reference to. So often as I’ve read this passage of Scripture, a key verse was overlooked. It was verse 12.

One day I sat down and pondered this verse. I was quite puzzled because I didn’t understand why this verse stuck out to me and why I couldn’t get it off my mind. I was being a good wife and a good mother. I meant no harm to my husband. I wanted the best for him. That’s when I had an “ah ha” moment. This verse says all the days of her life. That means every single day. Even on those days when I didn’t feel like it or thought my husband was worthy enough.

You see there are some days when I don’t do my husband good. It’s those days when I allow my heart to be controlled by my feelings. Those days when I allow my thought life to be controlled by what I see. Yes, it’s those days when my flesh takes control because it no longer wants to be denied. My flesh says, “You don’t have to serve him today. You did enough on yesterday.” It’s on those days when I die to my flesh that I serve my husband with a joyful heart. I think twice before I say something that may hurt his ego. I put his needs above mine. Therefore, I must die to self on a daily basis to make sure I do him good and not evil all the days of my life.

I'm Not Half Married

Many times I've conversed with other people about marriage. It's a subject that I'm passionate about and talk about it often. Throughout these conversations, I've often hear others describe their marriage as a 50/50 partnership. Which means each person give 50% to the marriage relationship.

I didn't know you could be half married. 

I always thought when you got married, you gave 100% of yourself. 

I wonder what would my marriage look like if I only gave 50% of myself.

By choice, I'm the primary cook in our home. I pour so much of myself into preparing delicious meals. My family waits with anticipation to taste the latest recipe that I've conjured up. But what would happen if I decided to give just 50% of myself into meal preparation? We wouldn't have the meal time around the table that we have come to enjoy as a family.

By choice, I freely give of myself to please my husband. My goal is to bring him satisfaction. In order to reach that goal, I can't stop half way and hope that a touchdown is scored.

By choice, we've decided that I would be home with the children and my husband would go out and work. Mothering is a full time job. When my babies were younger, I couldn't just nurse them half the time they needed to be nursed. Now that they are older, and need me so much more, I can't just be here for them 50% of the time that they need me.  Where or who would they turn to? The world, their peers, a boyfriend or a girlfriend? Not if I can help it!

My husband and I have a great marriage. We decided from the very beginning that we would each give 100% of ourselves to this marriage union. Giving 100% has proven to be successful for us. After 5 children, we still act like newlyweds. Not a day goes by without an "I love you." Flirting with each other is the norm in our home. It wouldn't be that way for us if we decided to have a 50/50 relationship.

 

I'm giving 100% of myself. Are you?

Genesis 2:24, "Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh."

* I must confess something here. There is one area where it seems that I'm only giving 50%. That's my laundry. My goal today is to give 75% of myself to the laundry! I will accomplish that if I get all the clothes washed today.

Thankful Thursday - Titus 2 Mentors

Titus 2:3-5 "the older women likewise, that they be reverent in behavior, not slanderers, not given to much wine, teachers of good things—that they admonish the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be blasphemed."

November is the month when we celebrate Thanksgiving. I've decided to share what I'm thankful for each Thursday in November. I have so many things to be thankful for, but I wanted to start off by saying how thankful I am for the Titus 2 women who have imparted in my life. I'm so thankful that I had the chance to experience what it's like to have an older woman to live out the Titus 2 mandate.

My heart cannot express enough thanks for Mother Bradford who saw something in the neighborhood girl running wild and playing "hide & seek" with the boys. She would invite me to come into her home. I loved going to her home. It was so peaceful and pretty. She had a floral paintings and always, always had something baking or cooking. Her house smelt good too.

She got permission from my parents to start taking me to church with her. I would go every Sunday, even when I didn't want to go because it gave me a chance to escape reality. My home life was in such disarray and most of my childhood our family didn't have a car. Going to church gave me an opportunity to leave the "projects (ghetto)" for a minute.

Mother Bradford would teach me about how my body belonged to God and He didn't want me sharing it with anyone else. Oh, how she would embrace me after I would share with her my hurt of abuse and being used while trying to find love. Not once did she judge me. Instead, she would tell me about the man that God will send to me that will cherish me and love me. She prepared me for that man and I'm forever grateful to her.

I remember one day inquiring about why she dresses the way she does. Not that she dressed bad or anything, just different. Different from most women in the neighborhood. She always looked pretty. Pretty, just like her home decor. Simple and pretty, not a lot of glitz and glamour, but yet fascinating. She taught me about modesty. I didn't embrace modesty then. It took some time, a long time!

How blessed my life has been not only with Mother Bradford, but many women who have imparted into my life. If I could go back in time, I would glean even harder because I took it for granted that I would always have a Titus 2 mentor in my life.

I will always desire to have a Titus 2 woman in my life. I'm entering a new season in life. I'm now a Titus 2 woman.

Leave It At the Well

Recently I've been reflecting on the encounter I had with Jesus many years ago. I find myself reading the story about the Samaritan Woman over and over again. Maybe it's because I can relate to her in some way. No, I haven't had five husbands and the man that I'm currently with is my legal husband. I'm referring to living a life of sin.

There was a time in my life when I would sugar coat my sinful past. I never lied about the things I did or didn't do. I just didn't reveal the whole truth. That in itself was sin. I may have been able to fool other people, but I couldn't fool the man who met me at my well. That man is Jesus.

There is one thing I wished I had more in common with the woman at the well. When she left the well, she left all the garbage there with the man that knew everything about her. A man who had become her Savior and redeemed her from a life of shame.

I remember vividly my day at the well. Oh, how my heart was filled with joy because I had received his forgiveness. But forgiving myself and those who hurt me.....I took some of the hurt away with me as I left the well. I heard the sweet voice of Jesus beckoning me to leave it there with Him.....Why didn't I?

I did finally. But it was after years of trial and failure of trying to take care of my own wounds. Only to replace the bandages with the same old dirty bandages from the previous wound. The multiple wounds kept getting reinfected. I would pour my peroxide remedy to get out the yucky stuff. Until I realized it was MY remedy.

Jesus had already given me a remedy to cleanse all my wounds. Just like he told the Samaritan that He would give her living water, that same water He was offering to me.

Maybe you're like me and the Samaritan Woman. You have a questionable past that's hindering you from being the wife and mother that you desire to be. I encourage you to go back the the well and leave everything there.  After you do that, do what the Samaritan Woman did. Go tell everybody about a man who told you about your past and forgave you from the sin you committed and the sin that was committed against you.
John 4:4-22

Following him as he pursues Him

Call me a girl who's living in a fairy tale and I'll tell you that this is reality. Reality is that I have this unquenchable desire for my husband and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I must start off by saying, we are not perfect. Far from it. But there's a love so deep. This love continues to be fueled by the passion we have for God. I know my fore-mothers are disappointed in my choice of living a "subservient" lifestyle, as they call it. I call it freedom. Freedom to walk in my calling and live my life as a fascinating woman. Not only am I a fascinating woman, as my husband calls me, but I'm fascinated. Fascinated by a man who strong enough to be a man. Yet gentle enough to understand me, a woman. A man who's confident enough in who he is as man by encouraging me to be a woman. As a woman, God places such a high value on me. God said it wasn't good for my husband to be alone. He values me, a woman, so much that He created me to be a helpmeet to my husband. Now if being a helper makes a woman subservient in the eyes of some, so be it. Although, I must confess.....I love being a helpmeet to my husband.I love waking up in the morning thinking of ways I can help my husband's day go better.
Since I'm confessing stuff, I must confess that I pick up my husbands dirty clothes off the floor. I know he's a big boy, but I love to take a whiff of his shirts after a hard days work. He smells so manly.I must confess that I plan my meals around the foods he likes. There's no better sound in the world to me than my man grunting while eating a delicious meal I've prepared.I must confess that my body doesn't belong to me and I've freely given it to him. With a smile on my face too. Oh how I love reaping the benefits. Freely give. Freely you shall receive. How my heart aches for women who have good husbands, but chose to believe the lies by our fore-mothers. Our fore-mothers told us to follow no man. There are numerous Godly men who are just waiting for there wives to trust them. I encourage my sisters to follow them as they pursue God. 

Has Sandra Died Yet?

As I passed by the mirror today, I stopped for a moment to take a look at the reflection sharing back at me. It had been a while since I've taken inventory of what's really inside of me. Not sure why I felt a need to take inventory, but I did. It is not because things aren't going good in my life, but I wanted to see what others saw when they looked at me. It's obvious that others can not see the hidden man of the heart. Only God can. One thing I do know is what's in my heart will eventually come out of my mouth. Whether I want it to or not. The Scripture tells me that out of the abundance of my heart, my mouth will speak. That I will be justified by my words and condemned by them also.

How can I go day after day, doing the same routine over and over again without feeling like insanity is lurking around the corner waiting to attach itself to me the minute I turn my back?

As I pondered this question, I couldn't help but notice the words "I" and "me." Then it hit me. It's all about me. Not the Christ who dwells in me. Repentance must take place because I have not followed the plan laid out for me in the Word of God.

Have I died to self yet and realize that it's not about me, but Him? I thought I did, but with my own power I seem to somehow manage to resurrect my flesh and give into the god of "me"ism.

"I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." -Galatians 2:20

In order for me to continue to do what God has called me to do, I have to crucify "me." There are times when my flesh does not want to serve my family, my church and the people around me. Why? Because it's an inconvenience for me, it doesn't fit into my schedule and the things I really want to do that day. Others may not know that I feel this way at times, but if I don't die to self on a daily basis they will. Eventually it will flow from my mouth. When it does, I won't be around to clean up the vomit that's just been spewed. I'll be busy taking care of "me."

As a mother and a wife, I want the words that flow from my mouth to be pleasing to my family. Words go into eternity and they can't be taken back. I don't want this to be about me because it's not. It's about Christ. He (Christ) must increase, but I must decrease.

Well Behaved Women

On Saturday afternoon I was alone in the car with my honey for the first time in a week. We had just left the church where our oldest daughter had just married and we were on our way to the reception. (I will post about the ceremony later.) We were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic. I was glowing as I laid my head back to rest as Don had asked me to. I had a hard time closing my eyes because I couldn't stop looking at him. I so admired the man sitting behind the steering wheel and just wanted to continue gazing at him as he drove. Being tired, it didn't take long before I drifted off to sleep. As brief as it was, it was refreshing.

We came to a quick halt and I opened my eyes. Don gently put his hand on me to apologize because a car had cut in on us and he had to hit the brakes. I looked at the car in front of us and saw a bumper sticker on it. It said, "Well behaved women rarely make history."

I couldn't stop staring at it because I wondered how many women believe that. I, for one, could not and would not receive that. According to the standards of society, I'm consider a well behaved woman. True as that may be, what's not true is that there's a chance I may not make history.

What does it take to make history?

I have several answers to that questions. When I woke up this morning and ministered to my family by taking care of my home, I was making history. Even as I sit here right now writing this blog, I'm making history. I started on my history making journey when I decided to do things contrary to what was popular. I looked back in history trying to figure out where our society went wrong. In the late 60's - early 70's, there was a shift in our land. Women were told by other women they didn't have to behave anymore. Thus began the feminist movement that was suppose to bring freedom to women. As a child I remember looking around and wondering what happened. Some things in history don't need to be repeated.

In my quest, I found this~
Thus says the Lord: "Stand in the ways and see, and ask for the old paths, where the good way is, and walk in it; then you will find rest for your souls..." Jeremiah 6:16

I've decided that I'm going to continue to behave while making history. Who knows, maybe I'll be in the history books one day and you may not realize it. I'll be the mother of the worldchangers that you're reading about.

His Stamp of Approval

If I count the times I tried to seek approval of man,
The number would be too great for me to comprehend.

There I was running to and fro,
To only be seen during the show.

What show you may say?
You know, the one where everybody wants to be on display.

Spending all night wondering what to wear,
Cause I knew that those women would be there.

Looking at me up and down,
Would I get a nod or would I get a frown?

Yes, this is my little girl you see,
Wearing yet another "homemade" dress made by me.

But why do I bother you so?
Is it really my clothes or my nose?

I understand you're speechless while you think,
Your crossed eyed looks no longer made me sink.

Please take a closer look at me,
Your stamp of approval you will no longer see.

I'm not sure if you've heard what's being said,
But I've applied something from the Word of God that I read.

I had a choice to please God or you,
God I chose because He will always be true.

I can't believe I strive so hard to be a part of your clique,
All the while I felt guilty ignoring the new chic.

Now I free and a bond servant of Christ,
Wearing His stamp of approval feels so right.

~By: Sandra King

This poem is written after reading Galatians 1:10, "For do I now persuade men, or God? Or do I seek to please men? For if I still pleased men, I would not be a bondservant of Christ."

As a woman, I can strive so hard to seek the approval of other women. In doing so, I'm not pleasing God because I can be so focused on pleasing other women. I want to be accepted. It's easy to feel like a chameleon.

If I tried to fit in with a group of ladies that looked down on women with more than two children, I would downplay my desire to have more. My heart would just ache because I was wrong. I remember "hanging out" with some women who bashed their husbands. I sat there and tried to conjure up things about my husband because I wanted to participate in the conversation. Only to have the Lord tap me on the shoulder and let me know that I wasn't honoring Him nor my husband.

I love to fellowship with other women. I'd be the first to hitch a ride and share in the breaking of bread. On one occasion when I did, I came home "tripping." My poor husband and kids didn't know what got into me. I came through the door demanding my rights. I had a right to go out when I wanted to. I had the right to go out and eat when I didn't feel like cooking. I had a right not to give my husband sex when he wanted it. I had no idea that I had a right to make him go months without it and dared him to get it from somewhere else. I had a right to go out and get an education in case Don left me. Not only did I have a right, I was entitled to it.....according to what I heard during the fellowship.

I knew in my heart that in order to please God, I couldn't please man. Trying to get a stamp of approval from others will cause you to live in bondage. Christ has come to set you free. When Christ sets you free, you are free indeed. Free from man pleasing. Get His stamp of approval and be free.

The Presence

The Presence

I kept hearing whispers in the night.
Oh who can it be, who can it be?
But when I arose there was no one in sight.

My heart did not pound in fear,
But I knew there was a Presence near.

"What is it You want from me?" I asked.
Oh who can it be, who can it be?
For Your presence I can not see.

Then this loud voice I heard,
Without this Presence saying a word.

"Is that my name I hear you call?"
Oh who can it be, who can it be?
"Yes," You say, "because I want to hear it all."

"I don't know what to say,
But such a peace has come my way."

You tell me not to hurry
Oh, who can it be, who can it be?
And that time shouldn't be a worry.

"But, I don't want this time to end.....
Will You come here again?

~By: Sandra M. King

I was inspired to write this after an experience I had one night. How many times does the Lord want to have intimate time alone with us? Just as in a marriage relationship, at times intimacy takes place long after the day is done. One thing God really showed me is that intimacy is not rushed. So often intimacy can be rushed because we may feel uncomfortable. If we are not used to His presence or being intimate with our spouse, it can cause some feelings of discomfort. At times when we are given a choice to engage in intimacy, we shy away from it because we become vulnerable. We have to let our guard down and that means exposing things that are deep within us. So we hold back, from God and our spouses.

When day started to break and the sun was rising from the mountain top, I was faced with something else. I knew that at any moment the kids would wake up and I needed to embrace them as I do every morning. I asked the Lord if He would come here again. I didn't hear God say anything. I thought about it for a moment, and wondered.....I shouldn't ask Him if He would come here again. Of course He would, if I allowed Him to.

Hugs For Friends

I woke up this morning and realized how important my friends are to me. Sometimes I have the tendency to take them for granted. I know for some women friendship can be a sore subject because of past and or present experiences. One things for sure, we as women need each other. I learned a long time ago that I couldn't walk this journey alone. I needed to have friends.

Often times I hear women say that they get along better with guys because women are "messy" Yes, there are women out there who are "messy" I for one quoted this statement on numerous occasions all the while my heart ached for friendship with other women. It wasn't until I changed when I realized just how much fun friendships can be. I had to let my guard down and stop playing Magnum P.I. looking for clues to prove that "her and I just can't be friends because of....."

If you have been hurt because of past friendships with other women, take it to the cross. Forgive. Open up your heart. There's a woman out there who's looking for a friend like you. Will you be her friend?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friends possess remarkable keys. They open the locked doors of our lives. They give us entrance to places we'd never dare go by ourselves. They fling wide the gates of lush, secret gardens. They take us to treasure rooms glistening with gifts we're sure we don't deserve.

Friends unlatch the windows of our souls. They grip the drapes we've drawn around ourselves and yank them back to let God's gleaming light stream in. They pull and tug until the windows pop open and fresh, new breezes fill our musty hearts.

When storms throw trees across our path, a friend will lend her strength to haul the logs away. Friends are not fazed by our roadblocks. They come equipped with chain saws. They help us chop our obstacles like firewood then strike a match to them. they make sparks fly up from the flames. They say, "Why not sit awhile and warm yourself by this nice fire?" When the smoke clears, friends pass out coat hangers and feast with us on roasted marshmallows until the last ember dies.

Friends have sight where we are blind. They are guides through the jungles of our past. They are fearless to face the dangers we know lurk beneath the brush. Friends hack and slash at the wild, clinging thoughts that bind us. With grace, they loose us from our blindfolds then tie them on branches, making trail for the future.

Friends create breakthroughs. The best ones are agents of God. Like him, they stand us in front of a mirror and introduce us to ourselves.

*From the book "Hugs For Friends" by: LeAnn Weiss & Caron Loveless

A Woman's Hands

"A Woman's Hands"
by: Sandra King

Soft to the touch and beautiful to the eye
are a woman's hands
Working diligently from sunrise to sunset
are a woman's hands

Are my 2 hands and 10 fingers enough to take on the battles in life
and eventually win the war?

Soothing the cry of a baby and nursing a sick child
are a woman's hands
Redirecting and correcting in the right directions
are a woman's hands

Yes your hands and fingers are enough. Don't run from the battle
you can win this war.

Underestimated for their strength and longevity
are a woman's hands
They may grow tired, but they never quit
are a woman's hands

Psalm 144:1 - Blessed be the Lord my Rock, Who trains my hands for war,
And my fingers for battle-

Lonely as they walk down the neighborhood streets
are a woman's hands
Looking for a sister or friend to share life with
are a woman's hands

Ready to fight even if I have to go at it alone. To much is at stake
and I can't afford the price if the war is lost

Geared up to defend family, faith and friends
are a woman's hands
Ready, set, go.....as they stretch toward heaven
are a woman's hands

When God saw my palm and finger prints, He knew it was me.
For there is none in heaven or on earth like mine

At last they sway from side to side
are a woman's hands
Proclaiming victory and they worship the Lord God Almighty.