There are days when the clouds roll in so thickly, I can’t recall the feel of the sun enlivening my being or illuminating my path, and I forget what it feels like to throw wide my arms to the open skies and relish the very luxury of being alive, here and now. There are days when the act of pushing back the covers and emerging, one slow step at a time, from the quietness of my bed is almost an impossible task, daunted by shadows of another uncertain day might bring. There are days when I am not the me I always thought I’d become but rather a diminished version of my best self, worn paper-thin from the daily burdens of a life I never meant to merely muddle through. There are days when all I can see are the jagged lines of my own self-reliance; the blackened edges of my wounded pride, singed from flames of denial and the burning tongues of personal demons. That which I hate, I do, and that which I want to do seems but an elusive dream of smoke and mirrors… But this is no dream. They say when you reach your wit’s end, you will find God there – and when the earth broke wide and the ground split violently beneath my feet, leaving me dangling by bruised fingertips from the shattered ledge of an unsurrendered life, I discovered I had nowhere else to look but up. Broken from years of suffering at the hands of my own selfishness and flirting with lies of quick-fix glitz that always faded to gray, I cried out with a voice of desperation arising only from the ashes of a scorched pride. I had given my all to a world that could never take enough, and at the end of myself lay the beginning of a new life – a source of freedom, a portal to hope. I had simply never seen it, all that time I spent standing in my own way…when all I ever needed was the humility to lift my eyes and fall to my knees. In this world I will have troubles, but there is one who has overcome the world…and I am His.