In death I wrote journals that spoke of goals I wanted to accomplish. I spoke of the promise if given a chance to live. I find this quite humorous. When we humans are faced with travesty we remember our faith. We are saved and sanctified. God’s promise is first and foremost and our prayers become daily rituals that were once gone in the winds. I thought that when faced with death I would cringe with fear. However, when it came time to fight there was a point and time when I embraced it.
These same feelings of inadequacy and anxiety come when I am on the brink of success. I become so fearful of achievement, I let go. I am afraid to fail, I am afraid of the added responsibility, I am afraid to follow through. Hence, the pep talk comes into play. “The Rebirth I like to call it,” I get fired up. I remember the cause, I remember my fight. Thus I am Reborn and ready to fight…
I was 76 pounds of scar tissue to meat upon my bones. Forgetting the struggle from time to time I got caught in the winds. I was found out cold riddled with signs of my disease. My soul was dying and I had to die in order to be reborn. Grabbing hold to my shoulders I cradled my frail bod and whispered these words, “I want to survive.”