I have known struggle. I have stumbled, wept in silence, and watched hope slip through my fingers.  I’ve stared into darkness, danced with it, and called it home when I had nowhere else to go. I’ve lived through nightmares, been trapped by fear, and mourned losses too deep for words. I’ve walked through loneliness like a desert –

dry, vast, and echoing with absence. I’ve reached for hands no longer there and crossed rivers made of my own tears. I’ve stood alone, unwavering, for what I knew in my soul to be right.

Yes –

my heart has broken. But it beats still –

strong, steady, and full of quiet courage. This tired body may ache, but my spirit burns with defiance. In the deepest night, I am still a flame. I bleed –

but I heal. I cry –

but I will smile again. When I am silent, I will find my voice. When I am lost, I will light my own path. I carry wisdom shaped by pain, and strength forged in fires. I am still here.

I am still breathing. And with God beside me, I am not just surviving –

I am becoming.