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.
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