Unlikely proclaimers and prophetesses dressed in baby-stained t-shirts, rumpled aprons, sweaty workout clothes and business blazers have been speaking into my life.

 “Deep breath in. Deep breath out,” says my Zumba instructor, then pulls out a glittery sign:

YOUR ARE BEAUTIFUL.

YOU SHINE.

I smile and shake my sweaty head.

Her words echo another word spoken over me:

“I see something sparkling like diamonds around you. They’ll come to you rough, but you are like a diamond, strong and sharp to shape them.”

I’m listening, but look around and think there must be some mistake.

And just like that I feel stronger than yesterday? Not really. But I know where my help comes from.

I am powerful, just not at all on my own.

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the  Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

God works with words for me (and through me?) His word a sword, he tells me (Ephesians 6:17). Love began with a Word that became flesh and lived among us (John 1:14) and taught us how to wield the sword in love.

But the enemy of my soul works in wicked words too, whispering:

You’re sweet, and quiet—too weak to do anything worthwhile.

Live your life quietly,  go on now.

Sit prettily and wait for someone else to tell you when and where to show up.

Just like that he tries to steal the breath right out of me, to rip the sword from my soft hands.

If lies can be silken, then truth can be harsh.  Like this scripture I keep hearing. I sit on it like a fretful hen, too plucked to cluck it out before my fellow chickens.

A hard-as-diamonds word:

Woe to the pregnant and nursing mother.

Twice I have felt God saying this to me. Once it fell heavy, a weight on my shoulders during worship; another time I heard it woefully in a room full of women saying only lovely things.

Four times it is mentioned in God’s word.

“How dreadful it will be in those days for pregnant women and nursing mothers!” Matthew 24:19, Mark 13:17, Luke 21:23

“For the time will come when you will say, ‘Blessed are the barren women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!’” Luke 23:29

I count myself a coward for being afraid to say aloud the admonishment.

“Maybe it’s not time,” I think. Should some words stay hidden in our hearts, like Mary’s?

What does it mean amid the beauty and the sparkling prophesy? Amid the levity of ladies out to lunch?

When words aren’t enough, God shows me through love and in my own life:

My daughter stands, the apple of my eye.  How strong she is!  How smart and beautiful in spite of me.

How fiercely I have loved my babies, drawing strength as they drew life from me.

Strength to protect, strength to speak for them, and now strength to let them go out into the battlefield.

Am I a weakling or a superwoman?

If nothing else I pray I’ve armed them well for battle.

Ok, I think I get it now:

Woe to the pregnant and nursing mother.

I believe Jesus’ warning means our enemies want to steal our beauty and our strength as women, to silence the voices speaking for the voiceless and defending the weak as babes, to shrivel their source of nourishment.

But motherhood, sisterhood, daughter-hood means strength in numbers, beautiful ones!

You are the daughters of a valiant, virtuous Warrior whose eternal, creative word in your mouth is a living, invincible sword in your hand.  You have been entrusted with a weapon without rival in a time like no other.  Wield it with skillful finesse, gracious insight, and in triumphant love, and strike sure.

                                                                            –Lisa Bevere in Girls with Swords

We are not alone!

En garde!

We, the unlikely army of heroines and heiresses, must be armed and ready!

So I lift the sword and show up for the battle.