Adjust Your Vision of Life

Nothing is just black or white.  It is our role to adjust our vision and make the best of whatever the situation.

Our mental state, beliefs, fears… these are among the few that actually give shape to our perception of life. Indeed at times things we never wished for will knock on our doors when we seemingly less needed them to appear. But if we look closer and truly “adjust our vision”, the lesson to be learned, skills to be acquired, values to be nurtured will wink and smile back at us no matter how deeply hidden they are behind our obvious opponent.

I am not trying to “sound” wise. This is mostly for me, so I remember when I feel like giving up, so I remember when doubts hit me full force, so I remember when my eyes are burning so badly… Miracles DO happen! And the First and Greatest Miracle of all is ME.

I may go through what I see as trials, carry what I see as burdens, face what I see as unstoppable enemy… As I adjust my vision I see lessons, tools for the future, growth opportunities. Letting them put me down is my choice. Yes I will reach a point where I won’t know which way to go; yes I may reach a point where I will break; but NO I will no longer forget that power within me, that Power in which I find the will to move on, that POWER with which no matter the trial, burden, ennemy, I Am Unstoppable.

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Life is the teacher. I am a student.

1) I always have a choice. I can either focus on what is important to me, or allow fear and madness to paralyze me.

2) what I label as “important”, what I give top priority to is what I will risk my life for no matter the consequences.

3) regardless of what is going on around me or inside me, my top priorities will be what I will focus on, what I will fight for, and most importantly, what will give me the needed resilience to carry one.

Lastly, being in a sort of “dependant” situation helped me discover the people around me. I like to use the word “categorize”. It helped me categorize those around me. Make no mistake! Those you would have thought to bleed for are often not the ones who will reciprocate. And those that remain in the shaddows, following you from far, those are often the ones to reveal themselves as the most surprising life-givers.

Oh and you know that little thing we hear often? That Karma is always in action? That good-deeds are never lost but simply stored till the time is right for them to bounce back at us? Yes! That little thought! Never forget it! Because the same burn you felt when you shared your heart helping another soul, that same burn will be felt when you will need a heart to be shared with you. And that’s what we call “miracles”.

Je choisis d’être Handicapée Extraordinaire

Fort souvent, ballotés de part et d’autre dans notre parcours, nous oublions l’essentiel. Je l’ai vécu oh combien de fois. Il m’a fallu rencontrer ma mort une énième fois, plus directement cette fois, découvrir mon essence et déterrer cette force dormant en moi pour enfin me rendre compte du gaspillage inconscient et involontaire (supposément) que je cautionnais.

Nombre marchent, bougent, rient, se marient, font des enfants, fondent des compagnies… mais ne sont guère en vie… Une fois le « spotlight » enlevé, ils se révèlent des caricatures aussi vide qu’un bonhomme de bois, des pâles reflets de l’image projetée. Nombre de jeunes portent des blessures immenses, mais le droit à la guérison ne leur est pas accordé parce qu’alors il faudrait tout réviser, tout remettre en question. Je dis bien « accorder » parce que le nombre à avoir réussi à exorciser leurs morts est si minime que quasi insignifiant. Notre société porte des maux, ou plutôt nourrit des maux, que beaucoup refusent à nommer parce que si cela se fait, ils devront faire face à leurs propres angoisses, à leurs squelettes cachés, à leur vide de sens.

Je ne sais comment j’ai survécu. Je ne sais comment j’ai pu faire montre de pareille résilience. Certains croient que je suis quelque peu extraterrestre. D’autres s’attendaient hypocritement à ce que je craque rien que pour le plaisir de leur chaos intérieur, de cette malsaine tendance à se soulager dans et par la douleur d’autrui, de trouver son importance dans le désastre s’abattant sur l’autre.

J’ai si longtemps cru en des balivernes… des mensonges que certains parents blessés dans leur intimité voulaient calquer sur ma personne. L’amour filial m’a sauvé bien des fois. L’amour pour l’humanité m’a maintenu en vie. L’amour de moi-même m’a permis de m’accepter. Il m’a fallut 34 années pour finalement me voir différemment… et c’est long 34 années quand on ne se connaît. Mais au bout du compte, il me fallait ce voyage pour découvrir l’être que je suis, cet être dépassant les bornes de ce corps qui m’abrite.

Je Suis Extraordinaire! Pas parce que ma réputation est intacte, pas parce que mon compte bancaire explose, pas parce que je possède le réseau le plus performant ou le plus actif, pas parce que je suis une beauté selon les canons de la mode, pas parce que j’ai un corps parfait, pas parce que j’ai diplômes et position assurés au niveau de la société. Non ! Rien de tout cela ! Je suis plutôt à l’inverse de ces critères. Je ne suis pas une beauté, n’ai pas un compte explosant, je n’ai pas un corps parfait et suis d’ailleurs maintenant handicapée, je n’ai ni diplômes, ni grande position et encore moins renommée éclatante. Pourtant je suis Extraordinaire. Pourquoi j’ose le dire? Parce que je suis en vie, réellement EN VIE, consciente de l’être cette fois. Et mes cicatrices font partie de mes plus grandes richesses parce que preuves de cette vie. Ne vous y trompez pas! J’aspire à de grandes choses humainement. Mais mon “Extraordinairisme” ne se limite plus au monde matériel, peu importe son importance. Je me suis rencontrée et je ne me connaissais pas pareille force, pareil caractère, pareille résilience, et définitivement pas cette puissance à dominer les circonstances.

Je suis Extraordinaire, Phénoménale dans mon essenceTout comme Vous! Peu importe la situation, peu importe les larmes et les souffrances, il y a ce petit quelque chose en chaque être que le monde, ou plutôt la folie du monde, tente d’étouffer et arrive même à étouffer sous des couches de balivernes, sous des exigences qui permettent d’émerger de la foule ou encore [et aussi] de s’y noyer comme dans les mouvements d’une vague.

Dans notre jeunesse, nous nous imaginons la vie noir ou blanc, une ligne droite menant à nos rêves, à nos aspirations profondes. En grandissant, nous nous rendons compte que pas mal de facteurs influent nos perceptions, nos aspirations, nos désirs, notre détermination, jusqu’à notre désir de vivre. La peur et la honte sont le lot de tellement de personnes. Le plus cruel en tout cela, cette peur et cette honte sont si souvent injustifiées, injustifiables, calquées sur notre personne par d’autres pour qui tourner la vie d’autrui en médiocrité est le but ultime. Nous ne pouvons nous libérer de ces chaines du jour au lendemain. Mais en prendre conscience est une première étape. Maintenant il faut choisir de se libérer. Choisir de reconnaitre son unicité, choisir d’Etre cet Extraordinaire même dans les petites choses de tous les jours, dans ces petites choses ordinaires, ne point attendre d’être au devant de la scène pour éblouir, mais briller même dans son petit coin. Une toute petite bougie ne fait-elle pas un monde de différence une fois allumée dans une salle où régnait l’obscurité ? Lui faut-il vraiment attendre de devenir flambeau pour être utile ? Je vous laisse répondre.

Ce texte n’a pas pour but d’impressionner, mais celui de me rappeler le chemin parcouru, l’importance ou plutôt le symbolisme de mes cicatrices, et surtout l’opportunité offerte par l’obtention de cette nouvelle vie, de ce nouveau sang. Ne vous méprenez pas! Je ne parle pas religion, ni même spiritualité. Je parle de vie comme une rescapée d’une agression armée. Je parle de sang comme un être s’étant vidé du sien après une blessure et ayant bénéficié d’une transfusion. Mais je parle d’Extraordinaire comme un être ne se connaissant cette force de résilience, ni cette détermination à dépasser les pronostics et pouvant à nouveau se tenir debout malgré tout.

On the edge…

You need to have been there
To actually understand
It is not just pretty words
Well-put sentences
It is my blood in small bags
My breath in each rounded letter

You need to have been there
To actually understand
Swim in the heated pool of rage
Live through the burning
Lose yourself to the hurt
Chained up to the grief
Feeling the fire of each wound

You need to have been there
To truly understand
The release
The deep exhale
The freedom of finding one’s path
After going through hell
and back up
The nightmares
The tears
The scream
The excruciating heartache
The hated self-loathing
The seemingly forever lasting
Sense of wrong doing

You need to have been there
And even then!
I doubt you will ever understand
What it feels like
To be standing on that edge
And only your reflection
Telling you not to jump
For deep down
Deeply hidden
in your glazed eyes
Lays a destiny,
A power,
A will
Only you can fulfill

You Are Extraordinary!

Peculiar

Number X! Please rise!

Today I feel like a number in a pile. All I can think of is “how the hell….!”. There is something eating me up, but I am not brave enough to simply face it and admit defeat. Defeat? That’s a bit too strong of a word. Defeat will be when I die perhaps… depends on how one sees it. So yes, today, I am feeling off, totally out of it. It feels as if I am pulling on both sides of the same rope only to find myself tied up so badly I can barely breathe. Yet I am not in such a bad state. When I let go of the negative thoughts and “look for the light” as one would say, I am really not that bad. I haven’t accomplished ¼ of my dreams, haven’t dared ¼ of my wishes, haven’t gone even half way through my journey, but… I am still not that bad. I am hanging on and fighting my demons, hanging on and kissing the stars even from a distance… ok! A long distance. But still kissing them. So yes, I am hanging on. All will make sense someday soon. All will be worth every sweaty, screaming, dreading night. All will be “more than just fine, more than just ok.”

P.S. Initially posted on January 21st 2015, just 9 days before my Resilience story… Coincidence?… Maybe, maybe not… 

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Getting shot more or less a year and a few months ago taught me a few things:

1) I always have a choice. I can either focus on what is important to me, or allow fear and madness to paralyze me.

2) what I label as “important”, what I give top priority to is what I will risk my life for no matter the consequences.

3) regardless of what is going on around me or inside me, my top priorities will be what I will focus on, what I will fight for, and most importantly, what will give me the needed resilience to carry one.

Lastly, being in a sort of “dependant” situation helped me discover the people around me. I like to use the word “categorize”. It helped me categorize those around me. Make no mistake! Those you would have thought to bleed for are often not the ones who will reciprocate. And those that remain in the shaddows, following you from far, those are often the ones to reveal themselves as the most surprising life-givers.

Oh and you know that little thing we hear often? That Karma is always in action? That good-deeds are never lost but simply stored till the time is right for them to bounce back at us? Yes! That little thought! Never forget it! Because the same burn you felt when you shared your heart helping another soul, that same burn will be felt when you will need a heart to be shared with you. And that’s what we call “miracles”.

Resilience – you either get bitter or better

The first version of my story, or should I say of my testimony, was written/typed on February 5th as I was still at the hospital. Just for accuracy sake, I will point out that my left hand did the job as my right hand was immobilized. I was far too tired of repeating what had happened over and over and wanted to put a stop to the questioning. I was asked why write it in english? I will answer: why not? The important thing for me was and still is to express myself and I did it as it came, not overthinking whether or not english, french or creole was an option. The important thing was to let all out.

So for those who truly care, for the barely curious ones, for those who like that “lady” only focus on what’s making a hit, here is a compiled version of my journey. Part III is yet to come, but I wonder if I will force it out.

Anyhow! Enjoy the ride!

PART I

I have gone through what many would call a life-shattering event… I call it resilience: an opportunity to grow, to face my deepest fear, to discover my inner strength.

Wednesday January 28th, 2015. I go to bed feeling sad and tormented for no apparent reason. Nothing seemed amiss, yet something was eating me up. I cry, pray, and meditate. Can’t put my finger on what is bothering me. So I let go and focus on what had brought me previous moments of joy…

Thursday January 29th, 2015. I absolutely do not want to go to work. Something since the night before is nagging me, pushing me to stay home. I walk all over the house, bug my mom some, and look around my room in search of the perfect excuse to stay home. But…. Have to drive mom to her Thursday benevolent activity and must hold my part in the office team. So I get my act together and get ready for the day.

I look in the mirror and smile to myself. Hey! Who said self-encouragement doesn’t work! On set, key on ignition, car ready, and there we go.

In the office, the usual drill… but I can’t eat… my heart is still heavy. I joke, discuss important office matters, prepare files for reports to be submitted… but I am still not “there”. I look at my list and can hardly find the usual drive to step into my game

Around 11-ish, I head for the church after notifying my manager. Mom is done so we head to the bank, which I hardly ever do on weekdays. The teller assisting me takes forever… I start getting annoyed, but I rein-down my temper and use all my reserve of patience and good manners

Noon-ish. Finally heading home to drop mom. Don’t know why but I make detours I usually don’t do before taking my usual route. Somewhere between 12:35 and 12:40, I live the most nerve wrecking 5 minutes of my life.

As we hit a small traffic, a man comes to my mother’s window trying to open the door, a gun pointed at my mother, asking we put down the window. My car windows been darken, he cannot see inside the car. He is on edge it seems, looking back and forth, seeming rather at odds with his red-and-green stripped shirt, sunglasses and black beret. I put the car on reverse, go back a notch and hit drive full force heading left. But a local transportation car trying to hit a double line blocks me. This time 2 of them come to my side. Second reverse, and trying to head to my right…. All of a sudden, I hear a weird noise, see my right hand shaking as if I was staring at someone other than myself, see my car hit the back of a car and here my mother scream “Jesus”.

The car stops. I cannot recall if I turned off the car or if it happened by itself. I see my window tumble down. I tell my mom to call my boyfriend then I open my door and step out. I see blood all over my car seat, on the floor, and on me. Then I take note of the hole in my right forearm… Weirdly (thank God) I do not feel any pain, but remain solely focused on taking my mother to safety. I look around and there is no sign of the bandits. I turn around and see this woman trying to take a pic of my bleeding arm!!! Unbelievable! Should have lashed at her, but my focus was elsewhere. I hear someone scream a man’s name and realize they were calling a man stuck between the wall and my car! Gosh! I hit someone…. No time! I lend a hand to mom telling her to come out quick. She takes her bag, slides over my seat and comes to my side. My brain is on overdrive: 10 more minutes and I will be fainting. How I know that without any particular medical knowledge? Only God knows!

We cross and I go straight to the Official car on the other side of the street. I bang on the window and tell him I am hurt. He opens the back door, gets my mom and myself in and tells the driver to speed to the hospital… I tell him which hospital to head to. I ask him to take off my ring as my fingers are getting inflated. Mom helps me take off my jacket… I ask the man to make a knot with a shirt found in his car because my blood is pouring all over the place. I feel myself fading. I ask my mom to call my manager. I spit out the number trying hard to focus on not fainting yet… I needed at least one person to know. She is unreachable. I then tell mom again to call my boyfriend. He answers. Mom doesn’t seem to find her words. I take the phone and talk to him… can barely recall what I said, but I know he was stunned. Once I give back the phone the pain hits. I still ask mom to call my mentor… my former manager… both unreachable! But I still breathe because I know that with that one person reached, the game is set. It all happened in a matter of seconds, but it felt like an eternity…

I start to lose my hold … the man gives his number to my mom and asks me questions to which I answer without fully understanding what I am saying…. I start to faint… I ask him to let me lean on him and he keeps on telling me to hang on. I put my injured hand on my mom’s cheek and tell her to calm down because I am fine and we were safe. I stare in her eyes and smile then lean on that Good Samaritan whom God placed there at this exact moment to come to my rescue. I am fading… I am in and out but still answer his questions. I hear him give final indications bringing the hope that the hospital is near. We make it but the driver is hesitating. Eyes closed, my breathing shallow, I guide him. The man jumps out and screams for a chair. He helps mom get off the car, then me. My legs give in. He carries me to the emergency room. As he is about to take the stairs, the security guard helps him after hearing him say it was a gun wound and seeing the amount of blood on our clothes.

We reach the emergency room on time and the doctor in service automatically wires me to a serum. I start getting back to myself. The man gets ready to leave. I hang on to his hand murmuring “thank you” with whatever strength I could manage. He tells us to call him if anything.

I find it hard to breathe, but the doctor tells me I am fine, it was just my body going on panic mode. The door opens: my manager, director, and chief of security walk in. I smile just enough for them to see I am ok. They ask questions, I manage to answer… but only barely. My heart is pounding. I am again restless. The door opens again and my boyfriend walks in, face completely ashen and torn by an indescribable expression. My breathing eases automatically. He stands near and I lean my head on him. I finally felt safe. May seem overly girly and romantic, but after nearly going on the other side, I didn’t care that others were there.

From there started the journey for the bone x-ray which would clear the way for the surgery…

PART II

There is so much I don’t remember, so much my brain simply didn’t, couldn’t register. Now at nearly 3 months away, the questions are flashing at me like many tiny light bulbs about to combust….

From the stairs to the emergency room… I know I lost it because I don’t remember the nurses we encountered on the way, that weird bell sound, entering the room, been seated in the wheelchair, the needles through my veins, the pressure of the bandage as it is set on my wound, the voices around me rushing to keep me alive, my mother’s explanation, the urgency of each movement as I sit motionless…. I didn’t know any of this…. To me it was just the stairs and letting go of my human guardian angel’s hand as I was leaving the room….

I know now what it means to be in and out of reality…. The doctor talks I answer, mom talks I answer, my director talks I answer… But I can barely recall anything said, except some seemingly insignificant details… I don’t remember what I did or said, just some flashing images as if I had been coming out of a deep deep dream… And maybe it was the case… Dying almost felt… Normal!

At a certain point of time, things sort of got clearer, my brain seemed to have gotten enough back up from the serum because I could actually talk and be heard… What I absolutely do remember though: the gentleness of the nurses, the motherly way the doctor watched over me, the anxious stares of those who came, the hidden worry in the voices around me, the anger and despair in the two persons I care for most, the strength my mother displayed although watching her only child fade right before her eyes… the safety, love, and recognition that washed through me as well as a deep rooted desire to sooth their worries… Managing to smile and remaining reasonable although all I wanted to do was crawl out of my skin… No easy task! But besides all that happened, I felt protected and cared for…. That was all I actually needed.

Back to reality…

… They ask to talk to my mother. I ask him to stay with her for me. I know how mom is: she definitely needed the support. As they all leave the emergency room, I look around. The doctor in charge was standing next to me, watching my every move… there is so much I don’t seem to recollect, or perhaps I should admit so much I didn’t know when they took place, like when I got put on the wheelchair, when my wound got bandaged, when they inserted the needle to hook me to the serum… it seems I had passed out pretty badly. The nurse asks me if I want to drink some water. I say yes and they bring me a cup of hot water. I make a face and they laugh. I know I am on chock but boiling water? Seriously? That’s a straight ticket to diarrhea. They add up some cold water to it and I try to drink once more. I look at myself… not so pretty! My skirt had blood filaments; my toenails look as if a paint pot had been thrown at me. Heeeeewwwww! I needed a serious cleanup. I so hate the smell of blood… and I had just that all over…. I am feeling like throwing up… I can’t breathe… put me closer to the bed I ask, I really need to rest my head. Doctor makes small talks while I try to catch my breath.

They all come back, ask me questions, take note of what’s important, smile at me, tell me not to worry while their eyes… I best be strong for all of them. That’s what I am good at… I have to!

We are asked to go elsewhere to get the x-ray done. Don’t know what is discussed with my mom, don’t know any of the planned details… Boyfriend leaves to handle whatever is related to my car and some of our belongings still in there… There is lots of talking around me about the hows and whys of leaving the hospital… I somehow zoom out although my eyes are wide opened… We leave the ER and head to the provided car… Now that’s another dilemma: getting out of the wheelchair to get in the car with both my arms occupied… We manage and as mom sits next to me I put my head on the window and close my eyes… My skirt was getting cold now caked with my blood. My once white shirt turned a dirty type of color like washed-off-red, my sandals feel like sand had been sprayed on them… Oh well…

As we leave the hospital, I see a blue local cab get in… My manager talks to someone on the phone, then tells me something… My brain was back on lockdown mode, didn’t grasp a word she said… As we reach the last turn before the clinic we were heading to, I see my two coworkers and dear friends walking… I don’t really understand what they are doing in that area at this time of the day… One of them waves at me while the other one makes a gesture pointing toward the clinic… Then I understood! They had been in that local cab and headed straight to the clinic as they missed us at the hospital! I was truly touched and happy to see them.

At the clinic’s door, again the getting out problem. Surrounded by the 3 ladies, my mother and the driver, I slowly glide (not walk) toward the entrance just as a lady comes out stating “if you are here for an x-ray, the machine doesn’t work”. She said it in such a peppy voice it seemed as if she was rejoicing. I get a slight panic as I lose my step and my breathing changes. They rush me back in the car and oh gosh! Relief!

The ladies get in with us. They were not about to leave without knowing what would happen and as we drive to the second known place, they try chatting with my mom while keeping their anxiety on check. But I know them. I can hear it without them talking and feel it as the closest one plays in my hair. In the Radio-Lab’s parking, again the fight not to lose my footing. As we reached the stairs, the man guarding the gate tells us that it is already closed. I don’t look at anyone but simply sit on the stairs, my back to the wall, eyes closed. Didn’t care about the dirt, the people passing by, the stares, the state of my clothes… Didn’t care! Someone talks to him and summarizes the situation. He goes in for a few seconds, then comes back to let us in. Getting up was another problem, but it happened, don’t know how. One by one I take the stairs as if it were the hardest thing ever. I dropped myself on the first chair that came to view and laid my head on someone while the others were handling the administrative paperwork.

After 10 to 15 minutes (or so it seemed to me), I was taken to the x-ray room… All this moving got the best of me and while the man was positioning my arm, I threw-up on the floor. The man said it was a good sign and that it meant my body was fighting back. I didn’t comprehend a thing in what he said though I heard the words. We are asked to wait for the results by the receptionist. I am again feeling restless and ask every few seconds if we can’t leave yet. At some point, not too sure how it happened or what led to that, mom squeezes my injured arm. I scream and everybody jumps. Could have actually laughed at their reaction if that dizziness was not trying to get the best of me.

After what seemed an eternity, we are given the x-ray copies. Now it was getting up, walking, take the stairs, getting in the car… Finally seated, I laid my head back… Was finding it hard to breathe again. I don’t recall much of the trip back to the hospital, though I think I spoke to someone on the way. Back in the ER, I finally get to lie on a bed. Oh heaven!!!

I answer questions, smile, but somehow I am so very detached. The first surgeon comes in and explains to me what will be happening during surgery and also the mandatory steps that will follow. I still manage to make him laugh when he talks about antibiotics… How is it I can joke in such a situation… Only God knows!

Boyfriend comes back with our belongings! Apparently my car had already been secured before his arrival so nothing got stolen. A State Rep is with him, asking if I can explain what happened. Mother doesn’t want me to talk. She starts telling the story but get some facts wrong as she was confused as to the how and when it all happened. I let them know I can make the report and take over where mom had gotten. I am shaking, suddenly feeling cold. Out of nowhere the State Rep said that the person my car hit before crashing in another car was in quite critical state… I really didn’t need to hear that… Tears are piling up… “No tears!” I turn my head to look at the one who said that and instantly gain control over my emotions… After the report is done, State Rep leaves with his assistant.

Someone brings office t-shirts so mom could change. Same someone stays with me in the ER while mom and the others disappear once more, heading for the administration office. She jokes with me while the nurse takes blood samples for the routine tests and then gives me my first injection…. Felt like fire was poured through my veins!!! But it was necessary… As I said to the doctor, who knows where that man’s hands had been before he touched the bullet that hit me in his gun… There goes my crazy imagination again! I definitely would take 10 shots if needed!

A few more minutes or hours passed, I get my arm prepared for the upcoming surgery and my clothes changed into hospital robes. I am taken to my room where 2 unexpected visitors show up. News does travel fast! My main surgeon drops by for a chat. Test results were ok, x-ray showed some bad damage, my overall state was good, no food or drink until further notice. Weirdly that day, I had only taken juice in the morning… Serendipity? Talk about that!

I am again in and out after the doctor’s visit. How much time passed? Who came by? Who was with mom?… A total blur! Two nurses show up to take me to surgery room. I smile at mom, crack a joke with a friend who ended up been there God-knows-how, and watch the walls as my bed is being rolled out…

And there we go! Step 2 to my healing process.

PART III

I am blessed. There is no way out of that. I am blessed and loved and cherished and if I ever doubted it, this traumatic experience actually proved it to me.

11 months and 2 weeks. That’s how long it took me to finally be able to get back to my public life. 11 months and 2 weeks, yet I am still not completely healed. Do I dare complain? Absolutely not! I do cry when reminiscing what I had to face, but I have never been happier or more alive…

(To be continued… Maybe…)

A little faith

Have you ever taken the time to observe a glass candle? It is well seated in a glass frame only waiting to be used, all cleaned and pretty. When you first light it, it shines bright as ever and you are all joyful and at awe at its prettiness, forgetting all that is not that beautiful light shining right there in front of you. As time goes by, the candle starts melting, its liquid form starts filling in the glass and the flame starts fading. If you let it melt without keeping a close eye, it will be drowned in the melted wax… not necessarily by any fault of its own! A candle is meant to burn and die out right? That’s the logic. But if you keep watch, you will see when to take out the excess of melted wax and allow the candle to shine brighter longer, thus keeping it lit longer.

Same is true with our faith. When we first discover our spiritual self, we are all at awe at God’s Greatness, overwhelmed by His Power and Mightiness, so much that we think to ourselves that absolutely nothing will be able to pull us away from this light… As the years go by… health problems, financial problems, wrong encounters, self doubts, professional dilemna and so on… we then start losing sight of what truly matters, so lost in the daily drama… If we are not careful, we lose faith all together, sometimes by our own volution or perhaps through the course of events knocking us down. Then we reach a point where we either die out to life, or come back to life. Just like a lit candle properly settled in a glass.

God speaks to us in so many ways… small signs, big signs… warnings, happy thoughts… extraordinary occurences, tiny little things… everything and anything can be an occasion for Him to reach out. Yet same is unfortunately true for temptations… so I have lost my ways many times after witnessing first hand how extremely extraordinary and present and alive God is! Yet He never got tired of me, always finding ways to take out the excess of melted wax from my glass. He took me out of so so many wrong situations that as human, hadnt I been comforted in the thought that I am part of Him, I would have been so ashamed of daring to even think His Name. There came many critical points when my light could have died out, not because He wasnt watching, but because I was ridiculously stubborn and too full of pride in my own weaknesses. Yet He still patiently waited The moment and saved me.

Being shot, losing all my blood, seeing death and being brought back to life does in no way guaranty I wont act stupid again. But it allowed me to know for sure, despite my human fears, that God IS Real and Present and Love and Patience and Truth and Always watching, always adjusting our life so whatever tiny goods He had inspired us to do overweights the mountain of madness we have done. This is an extraordinary miracle! Knowing that He doesnt even judge us, but simply allows us to pay the consequences of our wrong doings, not alone, but With Him at our side all the time. Isnt that absolutely wonderful? All we need to do is awknowldge Him and ask for help and guidance.

And when our external light finally dies out, not prisoner of glass and wax, but simply because our candle has reached its end, we Know He will be there to take our internal light Home. And that is the greatest reassurance ever!

Resilient & Thankfull

15 days later… I still wonder if I didnt dream it all…

15 days later… I am still out of words… Words of worship, thanks and praise to God for that new life. Words of love and appreciation for those who stood by me.

15 days later… I am still at awe at how things were so well planned. Life had set the steps that would guide me to this day. Steps that prepared me like the finest puzzle ever for that very moment.

15 days later… I am still stunned at how uterly blessed I am… To be loved and cherished and understood and encouraged…

Only 15 days… Yet it feels like an eternity. Only 15 days… And my life, my perception of life changed drastically.

Only 15 days… And I am the happiest I could ever be. Only 15 days… And I have discovered what it is like to truly BE.

From me… To you…

You do not know your own strenght until you’ve danced on that thin line between life and death

You do not know love until you have fought your own shaddows to keep the light from fading in the eyes of those you hold dear

You do not know faith until you’ve stopped doing things on your own and surrender what you had planned, organized, went crazy over to that Power within

You do not know who loves you, who cares, who would go that extra lenght, who truly values your presence until that Hand pulls you back to Life

From my Soul to Yours
Forever grateful
🙏