A Sacred Pause

Today I breathe a sacred pause,

Not just for cake or loud applause

But for the hush within my soul,

Where broken things were made whole.

I trace the years not by the day,

But by the roads I’ve walked in faith.

The nights I wept, the dawns I rose,

The silent grace that held me close.

Chapters torn and pages worn,

Moments when my heart was torn.

Yet every scar, a line of light

Proof that God still held me tight.

He carried me when strength had fled,

Spoke peace into the fears I fed.

When I let go, He still held on,

And gently whispered: “Child, be strong.”

To every soul who crossed my way

A light, a storm, a truth, a stay

You shaped me with your joy or pain,

And taught me loss can still be gain.

To younger me, both fierce and small,

Who dared to rise after each fall

Thank you for the strength you gave

To walk through fire and still be brave.

And now I greet who I’ve become

Not perfect, but becoming one

Who walks in grace, who stands in truth,

Still learning from the roots of youth.

So on this day, I lift my eyes,

Beyond the gifts and sweet goodbyes

To thank the Giver, ever near,

Who writes my story year by year.

Each breath a gift, each step a vow,

Each trial shaping who I am now.

This birthday is not just a line in time

It’s a testament, a sacred sign.

A quiet altar, built with pain,

With mercy falling like the rain.

I stand, not whole, but held and known

By God, whose love has made me His own.

All glory to God.

Today Is My Birthday

But more than celebration,

it feels like consecration

a sacred pause in the noise

to remember

how far I’ve come.

How far I’ve been carried.

I don’t just count the years.

I count the miles

my soul has walked barefoot,

sometimes through fire,

sometimes through silence

that screamed louder than words.

I remember the chapters

that nearly undid me

and the grace

that rewrote the ending.

I see the days I was sure

I wouldn’t make it.

Yet here I am.

Not because I was strong

but because God was.

I think about the faithfulness

that followed me into

every shadow.

The quiet hand that steadied mine

when I dropped the pen,

ready to let the story end.

But He kept writing.

He always does.

I remember the people.

The ones who stayed,

the ones who left,

the ones who loved me into healing

and the ones who bruised me into growing.

Each one

a thread in the refining.

I honor them.

Not all were kind,

but all were necessary.

And I turn inward

to the younger version of myself.

The boy who trembled

but walked anyway.

Who didn’t know what was ahead,

but kept going.

I want to tell him

You were never alone.

And you were braver than you knew.

Now, I look ahead

to the person I’m becoming

still raw, still real,

still stretching toward light.

Unfinished,

but chosen.

Grounded.

Becoming.

Today

is not just about age.

It is about witness.

It is about survival.

It is about standing at the edge

of everything that tried to break me,

and realizing

It didn’t.

I’m still here.

Breathing.

Healing.

Becoming.

And more than anything,

GRATEFUL.

To God Almighty who held me

when I was undone.

Who shielded me

from what I thought I wanted,

and gave me more

than I knew to ask for.

To the Giver of every breath,

every battle,

every breakthrough

this day belongs to You.

This birthday

is not just a mark on the calendar.

It is an altar

built from ashes,

laced with light.

And I

I am its offering.

All glory to God.