Sometimes, a Mess is Joan of Arc

You were twelve, and you were very serious.

Over the years, I realized the reason for your decision was more unction of the Holy Spirit than even you understood at the time. 

Your passion for purity wasn't a passing fad. Others took those vows with you, and then left you standing alone. I know their compromise hurt. They said they had your back—then laid down their swords and gave up. Surrendered to the Enemy. 

There is no place more lonely than a battlefield. 

And, loneliness amplifies the chorus of discouragement and despair. It is tempting to forget why you agreed to this battle. The faith that got you this far has grown stale. Looking over your shoulder, you see everyone who quit, going on with life. They don't look so bad off, do they? They survived, didn't they? Is it really so bad to decide this isn't my fight? Resistance seems futile. 

Dearest girl, I don't want to put on you the burden of saving France. You don't have to be Joan of Arc. Being you is quite enough. And, hard enough.

I just want to remind you that, like Joan, you are fighting a holy war. You are no lady in waiting. You are a warrior. God is not testing you; He is asking you to trust Him. You've taken a stand for righteousness—a very public stand—and it's not easy. 

You just have to decide if it's still worth it. But, remember: whether you quit or stand your ground, this battle will eventually end. The future, how this ends, will be your testimony. 

Dearest, I know your heart is bruised and your hope has suffered from exposure, but you are more like Joan of Arc than you realize. You're stronger than you think, and maybe more courageous than you know. 

Look up! Do you see? There is another fighting ahead of you. He is not your True Love, but your First Love. He is fighting for you. Going before you. And, He really does have your back.