I don’t say, “I’m glad it happened”. Neither will I ever say it in any future time. But it ought to happen. Reasons? So many. One is—so that I can rise for His glory. And that is the process I am presently striving for. I’m no longer counting the months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds, milliseconds… The process is undeniably painful but it’s worth every bit of stab, bite, punch, kick, strike, sting or whatever equivalent agony it can be. One very close cousin and a Franciscan Friar individually told me, “You are gonna write your story. It’s not gonna end today. You are just going to close this chapter and open a new one. And the book will inspire many because the story is going to be beautiful” These past 8 months (oops, I did count, anyway) have been the longest 8 months of my life. It is in this facet of my struggles that I’ve found and re-discovered people who had helped me fight the battle. And I am winning. No, not in the legal way because nothing in that
it's not always what you think it is.