The Difference.

No words can even begin to explain what I’ve experienced in the past two weeks. It started on Friday, January 14, 2011. I spent that weekend at the Chi Alpha Winter Conference and it launched me into what already has been a tough semester. By the end of the week, I was so dry. Already? It hadn’t even been a week since the winter conference, I was already sucked dry? Say what? Luckily, we were having special services at my church to fill me back up. I was ecstatic, well for the most part. The meetings went from Saturday morning to Tuesday night. I was pretty bummed that I missed four out of the seven meetings, but what I caught was perfectly enough. From what I heard of Saturday’s woman’s meeting, I was in for a pretty epic roller coaster ride. I walked in Sunday morning, expecting to leave with what I needed. Little did I know, I would literally leave forever changed. I have never heard these two people preach, so I spent the first service observing. What I observed was people leaving the service, healed.



Note: Just literally a week before that, I saw someone walk into the winter conference on crutches and walked out carrying them because he didn’t need them anymore. You cannot tell me that there’s not a God because I’ve seen evidence that He is real and He is working.


So anyway, Monday morning came, and I walked into my English Reading 10 class and I was so ready to take on a week of school, but that particular professor of mine seems to like to suck the life out of me, make me not want to learn. I left that class half empty, which made me then want to not move forward. Monday was just not my day. A lot of tears were shed, but God was and still is doing a work in me that I cannot begin to describe. Monday finally ended and Tuesday arrived. It was a little easier, a little bit more fun. After my five hour photography class, I was in the library, in an intense study session. When I headed to church that evening, I was on empty.


What changed my life in that service though, didn’t really take place until the next night, last night if you’re wondering when, the lady ministering, Ilke Peh, came up prayed for me, I fell down, then getting up was a struggle with the position I was in, two of my younger brothers helped me up and then Ilke grabbed my wrist and said one word three times. That one word was, warrior. I can remember exactly what she said crystal clear, “Warrior, warrior, warrior. Lord, use her to be a warrior after you.” Now I’ve been called a fighter before, but never a warrior. So I decided to look up the two words to get a better feeling of what was prayed over me.


The word fighter means a person with the will, courage, determination, ability, or disposition to fight, struggle, resist, etc.

The word warrior means a person engaged or experienced in warfare; soldier.

(Note: These are just one definition not all of them.)

Last night, I had such a beautiful “aha” moment, because I was thinking about it all day yesterday, it was bugging me. The difference between ‘warrior’ and ‘fighter’. So I looked up the words, and then I felt down in my spirit, “You are a warrior, not a fighter. Yes, you will fight for what is right, but I want you to be more of a warrior than a fighter.”


Tears streaming down my face, something that I will cherish. That I am a warrior more than a fighter. Probably the most intimate time with my Papa God that I’ve ever had. He is doing a work in me that is indescribable, uncontainable, so incredible, undeniable, and I am going to embrace each and every moment of it.

I'm pretty stoked that you read this whole thing. I commend you for that. This was ridiculously long, and you probably have other stuff you could've done in the last four minutes. So to you or someone else who have spent the last four minutes on me and what God is doing in my life, thank you. Because you certainly didn't have too.

Jeremiah 20:11