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"Until you become it!" a hand reaching towards you

Remember the hand? The one that reached towards you to help. You grasp it and the hand guided you through the unknown, the difficult time, the rough experience. But on the other side you ultimately had to decide, "Return or press forward?" You choose press forward and stood on your own and made your way.
I recall in vivid detail that season in life. Pressed so deep into the folds of memory that it sleeps until provoked.
 
"I don't deserve to be here."
"How did I get out of there?"
"AM I out of there?"
Whispers that haunt until they are displaced, silenced, rendered bankrupt by truth revealed, choices made. From such a season of the powerless, insignificant, without purpose, less than the flower on the wallpaper, emerges a creation from the dust, tested by fire, enduring the storms, prevailing over doubt and fear.
And here we all are, not the product of life planed but the result of making life with what comes.
Realizing the fight, the struggle is never over, mechanisms mental, spiritual and physical are relied upon to stay the course, keep on the path of the over-comer, to assume the authority and purpose for with one is destined. 
The memories leak from my eyes in the knowing of the merciful ... more

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