“Take one of us all together!  The four sisters!” I cried out amidst the noise and chaos of a family gathering two years ago.  My brother obliged, snapping a quick photo of our two younger sisters, his wife (as true a sister to me as there ever was), and me.  Time and distance keep us physically apart from each other these days, but our hearts are forever bonded.

The picture turned out well, capturing the warmth of our deep friendship expressed in our broad smiles.  We were photographed sitting on my mother’s couch, our arms spread wide across each other’s shoulders.  Our pleasure in being together is obvious.

Little did any of us know that in the year following that photo op we would each experience intense personal hardship.  One of us would end up in the hospital battling an illness that had formerly been in remission.  Another would suffer one of the greatest losses of her life.  One would struggle through unsettling life transitions.  And the youngest of us would face a life-threatening health problem. 

We were under attack. Each of us took a world-shattering hit almost simultaneously. Our security and peace of mind threatened, fear sought to overwhelm us.   We could have easily succumbed.  No one would have blamed us for crumbling under the weight of our circumstances.  At times the pain, grief, and uncertainty were nearly unbearable.

We were brought to our knees many times during the onslaught, but we are not sisters who wave the white flag of surrender to our foes.  Our foursome is blessed with exceptional survival instincts.  As children of God, we are born spirit fighters.  As such, our code is that of the soldier:  never leave a man—or in our case, a sister-- behind on the battlefield.

As the months of seemingly endless turmoil wore on, we shared each other’s burden.  When one of us would stumble, the rest of us would pick her up and carry.  If one of us began to lose hope, the rest of us rallied and reassured.  We prayed for each other.  We phoned to encourage and comfort each other.  Although miles away separated us, we figuratively linked our arms together and remained steadfast, our eyes on final victory.

For as it is written in Ecclesiastes 3: 9-10:

Two are better than one,

because they have good return for their work;

If one falls down, his friend can help him up.

But pity the man who falls

and has no one to help him up!

Together, my sisters and I faced that which would’ve buried us if we’d gone it alone.   Wars of the spirit are no less bloody than those of the body and we’ve got the scars to prove it.  However, we simply refused to give up.

We weren’t perfect warriors.  There was plenty of shaking in our boots and crying our eyes out.  None of it was easy.  The fight was messy.  At times, we could only limp through our weariness and pain.  Fortunately, our hearts fed off the knowledge that our Father God was bigger than the crises we were facing.  Simply put, our faith and trust could not be broken nor defeated because it is based the hope of Christ. 

For, there is strength in numbers, especially when are sisters in Christ and we know it well.  Four can succeed where one would fail.  God is our guide and protection, and thus, we suffer no enemy.  All are warned:  If you attack one of us, you attack all of us and our Father. We will take our positions and wage war, confident that we will conquer in spite of our shaking boots. 

The illness we encounter may linger on.  It does.  Our grief may never fully heal in this lifetime.  It hasn’t.  Our worlds may be turned upside down a million times in the years to come.  We know, too, that none of us will be here on earth forever. 

Yet, we also know that what we have is not bound by time or distance or grave.  The sister bond is a great one and the Christian sister bond is even greater.  We survive beyond the body, knowing that our sisterhood, our love for each other, is as eternal as Love itself. 

I have the picture of the four of us framed and hanging above my desk.  I’ve no doubt we’d be hard pressed to ever take a better photograph.  For one, this is one of the few photos where my eyes aren’t closed in response to the flash.  More than that, though, the photo is a symbol to me of the profound power of sisters….sisters in Christ. 

We were so innocent when the picture was taken, so unaware of the lions at the door.  But we made it.  We survived.  Not by magic, but by the determined faith of four in the God who sees and cares for us.  Steadfast and true.

And so, forever more, shall we find strength in our number under the watch of Our Father. In this we are blessed, my sisters three and me.  We always will be.