It's A Miracle

You survived cancer. Death had already drafted your name, yet Yahweh stretched His hand through the valley of shadows and pulled you back into the light. The doctors counted you among the lost; Heaven counted you among the chosen. It’s a miracle that you survive you’re not just alive, you are a living proof, a breathing psalm of a living miracle. So many battles you fought where the odds were carved against you. You were outnumbered, outarmed, outlasted yet you triumphed. Not by might, not by power, but by the whisper that said, “Live.” You passed your education despite coming from difficult circumstances, from empty cupboards and crowded rooms where dreams were mocked as luxury. You never thought you would excel; failure was the dialect of your street. But look your name on certificates, your mind unshackled, your future rewritten. It’s a miracle. They said you wouldn’t bear a child, that barrenness was your inheritance, your final sentence. Now you hold one in your hands warm, wailing, heaven in flesh, prophecy fulfilled in ten fingers and ten toes. They said you weren’t going to get a job; now doors open at your voice, and you are an employer, a table-setter for