I returned a fortnight ago from spending a season of rest in the presence of the King. These last two weeks of battle have felt significantly harder than anything I have ever experienced before.

I am Amber Grace, first a daughter of the King, and second a ninja warrior in His service. Everything I do comes first from the place of resting in my identity as His child. From there, all else flows naturally. He has been personally training me in the art of the sword for some time now. Oh, how I love the feel of His voice and power rushing through my body in the middle of a battle. There is no one greater, and no one else I would rather serve.

During my two months of rest, I was filled with peace and hope for my next season. But I did not anticipate the difficulty I would face when I returned to this land of ashes and cold.

I was able to stand and fight for a while, but the oppression here is so thick that most days I feel as though I cannot even breathe. And now something unseen steals my strength until I am left on my knees with my sword at my side, unmoving in my limp grasp. My gaze turns downward, as I now lack the strength to lift my head. This is a battle I do not know that I can overcome. The confusion in my mind creates a cloud through which there seems to be no way out.

Time seems to still, and I wonder if I am losing consciousness as the sounds of battle fade in and out around me. I hear clashing of swords in the distance, and then all is quiet. I am sleepy, but it is a drowsiness in the atmosphere, a darkness seeking to settle on the souls of men. I know as surely as I know my heart beats, that this is where the fight is. Somehow the war is against this darkness that is creeping over me in an attempt to take my life. Here is where I must learn to draw my strength from the King, for this evil power that I sense so close is far stronger than any human power. On my own I cannot resist.

I am dressed all in black, but no amount of camouflage can hide me from this enemy. I feel myself trying to shrink further down into the earth, but to no avail. I am on my hands and knees now, and fear comes in suddenly like a powerful wave, knocking me to the ground. I curl up in a ball with my sword forgotten under me and my eyes closed tight. My heart is pounding, and my mind is screaming that I am about to die.

A flash of light makes me gasp aloud. I am standing in a field of green, and my clothes are white as snow. I know this place, but I am not sure how I know. But I feel more alive here than I have ever felt in my whole life before. All is peaceful and calm. Suddenly, I see before me the King Himself, also dressed in white, with a sash of gold and purple.

I fall to my face before him and feel his gaze on my neck. It is searching; it is love that makes me start to weep. I feel waves of love and peace ripple through my body. I shudder with pleasure, unrestrained tears falling into the grass under my face. After a few moments He puts His hand on my head. I become still and quiet. And then He speaks, “Rise up, My daughter.” I rise to my knees and look full into the face of the King, kneeling before me.

His gentle gaze stares deeply into my eyes. There is no hiding from Him. I begin to weep again, softly this time, as I feel His love replacing every fear in my heart. I am unaware of the passing of time. I close my eyes and bask in His peace that passes all understanding. When I open my eyes, He is smiling. My mind begins to remember the battle at hand, distantly at first, and then questions begin to form in my thoughts. But before I can speak them out loud, the King speaks, gently and yet with authority.

“Remember who you are.”

I catch my breath, for just as suddenly as the vision began, it is over and I find myself still curled up in a ball on the floor of the forest. I can feel my sword under me, the hilt digging into my side. My eyes are open, and I am aware that my breathing is steady and even, matching the beat of my heart. In the depths of my being, a gentle voice whispers, “Who are you?” Without hesitation, my mind replies, “I am Amber Grace, daughter of the King.”

I scan my surroundings with my eyes and see more clearly than before. I see a fog so thick above me that I am not sure I can breathe in it. But my mind is suddenly clear again as I speak out loud without thinking, “I am a daughter of the King.”

To my surprise, the fog retreats a few yards, as if a small gust of wind had blown on it. I roll over slightly and reach for the hilt of my sword. As soon as my right hand grasps it, I feel a rush of power flow up my arm and through my whole body. I rise to my hands and knees, freeing my sword from underneath me.

I can see dark shapes in the fog and I immediately recognize the enemy, for this is what I have been battling for some time. But with every battle, they seem to come back stronger, even when I defeat them.

Still on my hands and knees, I rotate my head in an attempt to see them all. Fear is the biggest and the most formidable, and is standing not far ahead of me, nine feet tall and emanating waves of evil that pulse through the fog-choked air. To my left is anxiety, a crouched and withered shape that slinks about trying to shoot darts of worry and panic into the hearts of men. Behind me and off to the right is depression, with its many long, dark arms always seeking to wrap themselves around life and choke it out.

There are many other black shapes present, but instead of feeling afraid, my heart continues to beat steadily, and I breathe calmly, in and out, in and out.

I have been trained for this.

I push up from the ground to my knees, sword still in hand, and remember clearly the day I finally understood, the day I discovered the key to fighting these battles.

It was the end of an exceptionally long day in the midst of many long months of training, and I was frustrated. I was exhausted and my whole body hurt, as I had been defeated repeatedly, over and over. I was beginning to think this was impossible, for it seemed that the harder I tried to fight, the more I ended up flat on my face. I was failing myself, and worse, failing my King.

I could hardly put one foot in front of the other, but my desperation drove me to seek out my Father, the King, the greatest warrior I knew. After some time, I found Him standing at the river, facing the roaring water with His back to me. I have known Him for so long, and yet my awe and wonder of Him only grows with time. As I remember that day, I see it as clearly as if I am there now.

I stop and gaze at His back, struck once again by the power of His very presence and the peace that flows out from Him.

“My daughter,” He speaks without turning.

I drop to one knee with my head bowed. “My King,” I respond.

He turns, and I feel His smile upon me. In the presence of such a gaze, all my frustrations are momentarily forgotten, and my eyes turn upward to meet His. I stare in fascination. It doesn’t seem to matter how many thousands of times I look at Him; every time His eyes meet mine, I am undone by the overwhelming love I discover there. There is no hiding from His searching gaze, so full of gentleness and peace.

He is still smiling. “Speak your heart, My child. What troubles you?” With some effort I recall my mounting frustrations associated with my training and I begin to verbalize them.

“I – I don’t think I can do this anymore…the harder I try, the more I fail.” My eyes turn downward again. I do not understand. “I have failed you, my King…I am not strong enough to fight.” Great sadness fills my heart, and I begin to weep. I am now facing the reality that I have failed in the only thing I have ever truly wanted: to spend my life in the service of the King, being close to Him and fighting His battles, so that others might also come into His Kingdom. This loss is too much for me to handle, and I begin sobbing harder with my head in my hands. The pain in my heart is awful, and I wonder vaguely if this is what dying feels like. After a few moments, I grow quiet and become aware that the King is still with me.

I open my eyes and see Him kneeling before me. To my surprise, I see great pain in His eyes and tears on His face. “My daughter,” He says gently, “You are ready now to understand. You have been brought to the end of yourself and your strength, so that you are finally able to receive My strength and power. All My children who desire to be closer to My heart must walk this path. It is all by faith, My daughter. Surrender your own will, your own strength, your own way. Cease striving, and rest in Me.”

It was as if a light bulb suddenly turned on in my head. Nothing that the King told me in that moment was new to me, and yet something in my spirit finally clicked for the first time. End of myself…faith…surrender…rest…I could finally see it, understand it, believe it.

From that day on, my ability to fight with the sword and my methods of doing so improved drastically. The secret was in the letting go and becoming an empty vessel through which the King’s own power flowed unhindered. There were always new fighting tactics, and my job was simply to listen and follow the voice of my King.

All of this comes back to my mind now as I stand to my feet, my sword held gently yet confidently in my right hand. In my heart I turn to the King, whose presence is with me always. I see the dark shapes advancing slowly, menacingly, and yet I have no fear of them, for I know who I am, and Who I serve.

I raise my sword in front of me with both hands, and I begin to speak, strongly and confidently.

“My King!” My voice rings through the forest and the ground shudders beneath my feet. “My heart is Yours, my King! My sword is Yours. I yield myself to You. Fill me with Your strength now. My life is yours.”

I close my eyes, and the earth begins to tremble. The hilt of my sword grows warm in my hands and waves of peace and strength pulse down my arms and through my whole body. I smile, thinking of the King and who He is. He is light, He is love, He is life. He is peace, He is power, He is pure. There is no one like Him.

Suddenly, joy hits me in my gut as though I have been punched, and I begin to laugh, gently at first, like a trickle of river water over small rocks, and then more and more strongly, like the waters that begin to rush forward and over a great waterfall. My sword still held firmly in my right hand, I spread my arms wide and let the strength of my King fill and overwhelm me for many long moments.

When I finally open my eyes, the fog and dark shapes have vanished. This battle has been won. My King has once again gained a victory over His enemies, for truly, it is His joy that is my strength, and only through surrender to and rest in Him can the war be won.

April 21, 2022

I wrote this story almost two years ago, during a challenging season of life when I was feeling a little lost and very alone. But during that time, I discovered something astounding; often, the seasons when I feel most alone are the times I see and hear Jesus most clearly. He truly is close to the brokenhearted and comforts His people in the time of their greatest need. When we turn our gaze and attention back to Him, we will discover that He has been with us all along.