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Combat

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Combat

I am combat boots.

I am made to war and protect the being that is wearing me.

I am made to stomp, crush and kick anything in my way.

I am powerful and intimidating.

I’ve been around.

I’ve probably seen more hell than many will ever see in their lifetime.

I’ve walked a thousand miles in the pit of despair but I continued on with my purpose and expectations.

I am worn and partially broken but still wearable.

She bought me a few years ago specifically for a purpose. And as she laced me up she told me it was just to wait tables because she was never going to strip again. Anyway, I wasn’t made for the stage. I was made to combat the floor.

I am tall and black and made of strong leather. The laces wind up in front of me to hold me together when I feel like falling apart.

The woman who wears me is beautiful. And there are times I just want to cry over the things vulgar lustful men would speak over her. She would laugh and play along but I could tell when her toes would curl inside of me she was hurting on the inside so deeply she couldn’t breathe.

I’ve been spat on, spilled on, stepped on and kicked. I’ve been thrown and tossed around like no one cares. I’ve been locked in the dark where even if I were able to scream no one could hear me and if they could they wouldn’t care.

I may have a tongue but I am silenced.

I may be strong but I am only as strong as the one who wears me.

Yet I was created to step into combat.

I was created with a purpose of protecting and warring.

She knew this but the enemy had twisted the truth in her so much that she was fighting a battle she thought she could never win.

I tried to protect her from getting stepped on.

I wanted her to know she was worth fighting for.

There was this day she put me away in her closet and shut the door.

I waited for her.

I waited to be pulled down from the shelf for yet another night of walking the floor and trying my best to protect her.

But I was not pulled out.

I sat in the dark.

Each time she opened the closet door there was a part of me that longed to get picked and be worn again even if it was back to the pit of hell. I just wanted to be seen and loved again.

But each time she opened the door I saw something different on her face. She was softer and had this glow about her that I couldn’t explain.

Where she had been numb before there was hope.

Where her eyes had looked dead I saw life.

I would hear her sing a new song as she got ready in the mornings and the songs were beautiful!

Something had changed in her and she was even more stunning than before.

One day she opened the door to her closet and she lifted me up in her hands.

She sat down on her bed and I could feel the struggle in her heart of the memories that I brought to her mind.

She grieved and slow hot tears ran down her face and dripped onto my shiny black surface.

I could tell she was struggling but I wasn’t sure with what.

She set me down on the ground and slid, first her left foot into me then her right foot.

My heart dropped. I didn’t want to go back to that place. I didn’t want her to have to do this again.

She stood up and walked to the full-length mirror and stared at me. I saw the flood of memories run across her face but then something happened I had never witnessed before with her.

A beautiful free smile spread across her face.

She spoke down and directly to me, “You, my friends, are getting a new purpose.”

Her toes curled inside of me but this time it felt different! This time it was with a new found excitement that they curled.

The tears continued down her face but they were those of happiness and restoration.

She stood there and starred and said, “I have a friend who battled and warred like we did together.”

She paused and brushed a tear away with her fingers.

“She was a stripper too and now, like me, she is free.”

She smiled the most beautiful smile as she continued to talk to me.

“We were having lunch one day and she mentioned how she speaks to all kinds of groups and that one of the topics she speaks on she would love to have a pair of combat boots.”

Her toes wiggled inside of me and I got so excited about what I thought she was about to tell me!

“I mentioned that I had a pair that I used to wear in the clubs and asked her what size she wears. You are her size.” She smiled at me.

She contemplated speaking the next part but spoke slowly, “We talked about this several months ago and I’ve been afraid to give you up because I might want to wear you again.”

My heart sank. She knew as much as I did she would never wear me again. She will never walk back into those clubs that nearly took her life. At least that’s what I wanted to believe.

She reached down to untie me and pulled me off slowly one by one. I waited to be set back into the dark closet again but instead she walked me to her car and we drove away in silence.

I am combat boots.

I am made to war and protect the being that is wearing me.

I am made to stomp, crush and kick anything in my way.

I am powerful and intimidating.

Today, I no longer war in a strip club that almost took our lives. We were rescued out of the battlefield and the amazing woman who wore me in the clubs is restored, strong and a warrior!

Today, I get to war on stage showing women and men they are powerful fighters in Christ’s name!

Today, I am worn to remind men and women that our battles are worth fighting and standing for!

We are all warriors.

 

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Unbridled

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Unbridled

I watched her from the corner of my eye as she began to approach me. I could sense she wasn’t quite sure of herself but she kept walking toward me anyway. I heard her whisper under her breath, “Please don’t walk away from me. Please don’t walk away from me.” Surprising her, I turned to face her.

She startled a little bit so I tried to assure her with my eyes that I was safe. I know I am a very large horse and she was small, as most of the humans I encounter are. I could tell she wanted to touch me but still wasn’t sure how to. So I initiated and without taking another step toward her I reached out my neck and tickled her cheek with my soft wiskery nose.

Immediately she smiled and giggled nervously. I kept my nose close to her and took a small step closer as she did the same.

She reached her right hand up to touch my neck and could feel her shift from fear to a childlike desire to hug me. She leaned into my shoulder and I wrapped myself around her letting her know I was safe and not afraid of her.

I began to tell her all the things I sensed and saw, “You are beautiful and strong. You are worthy to be pursued. Your heartbeat up against me brings me peace in a sweet and joyful way. And I love you.”

She held onto me tighter and sobbed. I could feel her pull back a bit as she became self-aware of the other women watching. My heart saddened a bit as she stepped away and put her head down in what looked like unworthiness and shame.

She turned her back toward me to walk away but I was not finished telling her all the things I saw in her so I stepped forward and nudged her with my muzzle.  She startled a bit and I could feel and smell the fear come from her. So I lowered my head down to remind her once more that even in my size and large stature, I was safe and gentle. She turned around to fully face me, touched my jaw and I finished telling her with my eyes, “I am proud of you for risking your fear and trusting me.”

With tears in her eyes she rubbed behind my ear and I kinda melted! I breathed on her, which meant, “Thank you for loving me, brave one.”

She looked me in the eyes and smiled and spoke softly, “Thank you, Kairos, for loving me.”

.............................................

The last couple of weeks I could feel an excitement and anticipation from my keepers on the farm. We do several types of events here and my job is to help people encounter and hear God in new ways. I know this is what I was created to do.

My name is Kairos and I am told that it means “time”. And I know deep from the top of my ears to the bottom of my hoofs, I'm here for those to encounter God at this time!

One morning after me and all of the other horses had been fed and I was turned-out into the front field with my friend, Not, I watched all of the cars start to pull in and park along the front fence. It was from that moment I began watching all of these women begin an adventure I had been excited for since I became aware something was going to happen.

The women worshipped, laughed, talked, and in their quiet times I felt a deep sense of peace among them. I watched them put, what looked like colored water, onto white squares and make beautiful pictures!

My keepers even led me and Not to do this the same thing on a really large square one afternoon! When I got up there to do what I heard them call, “painting”, it was already so beautiful all I could do was breathe in it’s beauty. My friend, Not, did the same thing!

I got to meet each woman as they ventured out to meet us and have an encounter with God in a new way. This is my favorite part! This is where I get to see each woman as God created her. Sometimes they are scared, or too strong, or they stand off alone and heavy. Some are giddy and silly. Some are hardened and carry a deep sadness to them. But whatever they bring I long for them to walk away knowing who they are in a new way.

And that’s where this story began, I watched her from the corner of my eye as she began to approach me… and she became the very thing she hoped for, Unbridled.

***A perspective from an amazing horse, Kairos from a women's retreat I got to participate & teach in. Unbridled. For more information go to www.UnbridledWomensRetreat.com

 

 

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Grabbed

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Grabbed

Grabbed

***Warning: Strong language and content***

This past week I walked into the post office to drop off a package to ship. As I walked up to the door a man held it open for me. For a moment I was grateful until I walked past him and he leaned in close enough that I could feel the heat coming off of him on my neck and he whispered something vulgar toward my ear. I turned around shocked and saw he was looking me up and down. I shivered with disgust as I kept walking into the post office. I dropped my package into the container and watched to make sure he was gone before I left the post office for my car.

Us girls have to make sure we take precautions to not get harassed or raped.

This is nothing new to me.

I am 44 years old. I don’t dress provocatively. I don’t dress like I’m “asking for it”, whatever the hell that means. And I don’t flirt with men.

I have been felt up in elevators.

I’ve had white men hug me and reach around and tuck their hand under my breast to get a feel.

I’ve been raped.

I had a black man grab my ass, then proceed to ask me out. When I told him “NO” he called me a racist bitch.

I’ve been sexually abused as a child by men who hijacked my innocence. 

I’ve had Hispanic men cat-call toward me like it’s some kind of freaking compliment and get mad at me when I don’t respond.

I’ve been aggressively approached in grocery and convenience stores.

I’ve had well educated men of ALL races brush up against me, touch me inappropriately or speak perverted things to me in all kinds of settings.

I mention the race of the men not because it’s about race and culture but it’s about the sexually aggressive attitudes toward women that do not discriminate. It is not racist to stand up for yourself when someone has been inappropriate. It is not one race or culture yet it seems if you have a penis it gives men a license to be a sexual wild animal.

It doesn’t.

And there is nothing I can do about it. I can’t call the police or file a sexual harassment charge because I don’t know who these men are. They are just men walking by with no connection to me what so ever. 

And please don’t tell me to wear turtle-necks and long denim skirts because it is not my responsibility to control men’s behaviors.

Just last weekend I spoke to a couple of groups in Cleveland OH and I made a statement that there is an epidemic of porn, sex addictions, lust, narcissism, adultery and a constant moral failure amongst all races, sexes and religions. This epidemic isn’t those destructive expressions I just mentioned, the epidemic is the loss of the true identity of who we are created to be.

Both men AND women.

There has been an uproar of vulgar “locker-room” talk lately after tapes of Trump came out about him making lewd comments about grabbing women’s pussys. And Clinton’s husband was impeached because of sexual exposure and rape.

So now we somehow all get up in arms about it when this is nothing new to us women that live with the potential of men’s lack of sexual self-control.

There are thousands upon thousands of women who keep their mouths shut about being sexually harassed and or abused because if they speak nothing happens. They get silenced or shamed and told, “Boys will be boys”. Or “At least you get hit on because you’re pretty.” Or “If you didn’t wear such short skirts or low shirts maybe they wouldn’t say or do those things to you.”

So we stay silent keeping the shameful secrets to ourselves. Always looking over our shoulder in parking lots, elevators, hallways, grocery stores or when someone offers to open a door for you. Scared to say something because we feel unsafe after the constant barrage of harassment.

Men, please, rise up and began to know your true identity. Start seeing yourself through eyes of honor and respect, not pride and selfishness.

I would love to write out wise words of true masculinity and identity but why, when it has been wonderfully written in this blog by Good Women Projectin how some men see and call forth truth, identity and true masculinity.

Please take some time to read this!

www.goodwomenproject.com/from-the-men/who-we-really-are

I want to say thank you to all the men that have shown me and other women that not all men behave, react or think this way.

Guys, I believe in you. I believe that your heart truly wants to honor women and yourself. I believe that there are many of you out there that aren’t afraid of women and love and treat us as valued human beings.

And women, please don’t stay silent anymore. And stop making excuses for the men that harass you. You’re worth more than that. 

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