Armor Up, Princess

For years, I woke up with the same mantra: Get up, make it shine, and be ready for battle.

I lived armored up—24/7/365. Strong. Brave. Courageous. Smiling, laughing, polished, poised, always put together. I prayed, read my Bible, worshiped, led connect groups, preached, and taught women’s ministry. At one point, I owned a salon, ran my own clientele, had three kids, kept my husband happy, and somehow people would still ask, “So, what do you do?”

Are you kidding me? I did it all.

To the outside world, my life looked like a picture of success—happy marriage, big house, nice cars, vacations with friends, wonderful kids. But underneath all that armor, I was hiding deep insecurity and dysfunction. I managed battles behind closed doors, never letting anyone see what was really happening. Unless you looked very closely, you’d miss it—an invisible story beginning to tell itself.

The Breaking Point

January 22, 2016. My husband and I were lead pastors at Eastpointe Community Church. The church was struggling, and we were deep in a lawsuit that was damaging our lives and ministry. Our marriage was barely existing. By day, we went through the motions; by night, his chosen escape took him somewhere I couldn’t follow. I never knew what version of him would appear. It felt like living with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Every area of life felt fragile. I was barely keeping my head above water fighting for my marriage, my husband, the church, my own sanity. Fighting to breathe. Everything seemed targeted at me, like there was an assignment to take me out.

A few years earlier, in 2011, I had stood on the church platform encouraging people when I spotted Anna in the crowd my best friend’s mom, a counselor, and a former hair client. Years ago, when she came in for appointments, I’d walk away feeling like I’d had a counseling session. She had walked me through a dark season at my salon, The Chateau.

That day in 2011, when I saw her in the congregation, I heard a whisper in my spirit: Shit’s about to hit the fan. Weeks later, it did. And eventually, I found myself on her couch again, desperate to know if I was somehow the cause of all the chaos. I started asking painful questions: Am I controlling? Bossy? Mean? Is it me? Anna listened and then asked, “Have you noticed everything seems targeted at you?” She was right. I was exhausted, bruised, and broken but I wore my armor so well no one could see beneath it. For the next several years I went weekly to see Ann for counseling. She and Holy Spirit were life and breath to me.

Warrior Princess

In the summer of 2015 months before everything unraveled God gave me a picture that I wrote down in my journal. I saw a warrior princess, and I knew it was me. She stood strong in her full armor, but underneath, her body was bruised and battered. She was wounded, hurting, and deeply tired.

God whispered, I see the warrior and the princess. You are both. You don’t rest. You absorb everything the good and the toxic. You are authentic with all, transparent with a few, and never private enough to take your armor off. Many of your battles are silent, your victories unnoticed, because they happen within. You think you’re fighting people, but really, you’re battling darkness within.

Then He spoke again: I am going to transition you from a warrior princess to a princess warrior. First, you must get vulnerable, take off the armor, and heal.

At the time, I didn’t know how. I didn’t trust anyone enough to expose the wounds beneath, not even Anna. But God was already preparing a tribe of safe women to help me when the time came.

The Camo and the Heart

On January 22, 2016, I wore camo pants and a black T-shirt with the words “I ♥ My Church” to a women’s counseling connect group outside my church. These were Anna’s friends and she invited me to join. I needed relationships untouched by the battles I was fighting.

I thought we’d just talk. Instead, they prayed over me. Janielle, one of the women, said, “Rachel, when you walked in, I noticed your camo pants and the heart on your shirt. God told me, She has the heart of a warrior and is raising an army for Me. You’re a prophetic leader, Rachel. Highly gifted. You move in and out of your gifts so easily you don’t even realize you’re doing it. The reason your heart is so strong is because you are a worshipper you’ve learned how to lead through battle. This season is hard, but God is training you for what’s next.”

Then she said words that pierced me: There’s a wall that wants to come down, but it’s afraid. God says you don’t need it anymore. I am your protector. I’ve been with you. The wounds in your body and heart I have healed them. Freedom is yours. You will lead others into battle.

Peeling Off the Armor

That night, God and I began the slow, painful work of peeling away the armor I had worn for decades. It had fused with my skin, and fear was the glue holding it in place. Some mornings, it was a slow peel; other mornings, it was a rip. Either way, Holy Spirit was right there—wiping my tears, holding me close to His heart. With each layer gone, I began to see the truth: the armor had never truly protected me God had. I thought taking it off would make me weak. Instead, it made me free.

I am no longer a warrior princess, endlessly fighting to prove my strength while hiding my wounds. I am a princess warrior still brave, still fierce, but no longer bound by battles I was never meant to fight alone. The war is not over. But I no longer face it covered in fear. I face it clothed in truth, love, and the unshakable certainty that the One who called me to battle also fights for me.

Rachel Xoxo!