You were a warrior from the womb and your entrance was a victory. Since the moment you opened your mouth, they knew you were a prophet/prophetess. In your lungs was a war-cry, your fingers fit to hold swords and angels sang. When your footsteps kissed the ground, you were savior and fallen angels bowed when you breathed because the Gods ain’t got nothing on you. Magnificently and incredibly made from the richness of the soil. There were rumors about your skin and the audacity of it to shine like that. They didn’t know it was because you were born with a crown on your head. They treated you that way because they didn’t know you were a warrior and now that you know this, do not become a peasant. Do not lower yourself from the throne you were promised at conception if you want it. Do not shrink. Rise.
Jer 1:5 “Before I formed you in the belly, I knew you, and before you came out of the womb, I did set you apart – I appointed you a prophet to nations.”