Defender

When I am verbally assaulted, a subject of backbiting aimed at the ear bent toward slanderous lips;
when bold lies are told and I am not present to refute them, whose goal is to manipulate, divide and destroy relationships by undermining my effort to be transparent, trustworthy and dependable;
when someone else is given credit for my labor and the favorable outcome that results from my effort and good judgement call, choosing to bask in the glory rather than give credit where credit is due;
when I am passed over, being fully qualified but not chosen, privilege going instead to another candidate clearly not for reason of merit, the qualifying determination coming down to social status;
when I'm alone, the outsider, rejected, and accused;
when it seems my flimsy garments are adorned with a subtle bulls eye attracting skilled eager archers;
when outside attacks render me wounded, exhausted, heavy hearted and unable to square my shoulders, set my jaw and put one foot in front of the other pressing forward optimistically, hopeful and determined;
when these times come, (and come they do!) there is always someone who sticks up for me, who even when I am unaware, is wielding a shield of protection, fending off assailants, thwarting the incoming havoc intended to wreck me, belittle me, devalue me, stop me from becoming my best me.
I may suffer, and have suffered wounds that cut deep enough to require time to heal, maybe a lot of time to heal, but then, most importantly then, there is someone who's gentle touch carefully tends me.
There is always someone beside me, behind me and before me creating a barrier between my aggressors and me.
There is always someone.
I am not as it would seem, alienated and defenseless, left alone to fight haphazardly for myself, come what may.
Things may be out of my control, but never out of control, there is one who is always in control.
I have a defender.
He is Jesus;
who for my sake and on my behalf, is always the victor.
P.J.