I realize this is a dream, a life moment in time travel.
I will pray, and pray, and pray - and keep shooting medicine into my body.
This is how God made me, designed through the genetics passed down from generation to generation on my mother's side and my father's side.
Christmas can be filled to the brim like hot chocolate overflowing with marshmallows...
Christmas can be a time of reflection, for somber understanding...it takes courage.
Don't we wish we had a translate button when God is communicating with us?
I could hardly contain my happiness. It was a reprieve, a time of relief, and a moment of mercy.
That is the hardest pill to swallow. I think of this and I cry, then I get mad, and finally I trust in God.
Do I allow my body to conform and give up? Or do I choose a different path?
"Like my tattoo – the memory will always be there, an image burned just under the skin"