Now I’m stuck
on the bathroom floor
knees bruised, cheeks soaked,
whispering, “God, why oh why me again?”
But the truth settles in,
soft and sharp like scripture:
Why not me?

He chose me,
to be a light in the shadows,
even when I flicker,
even when my flame feels faint.
Because even when I’m breaking,
I’m still loving.
Even when I’m bleeding,
I’m still giving.

My heart
no matter how worn,
how torn
won’t stop beating for others.
And God sees that.
He knows the weight I carry
is proof of the warrior I am.

So here I go again
off the floor,
out of the sorrow,
not because I’m healed,
but because I’m called.

Because even a woman like me,
drenched in tears and tired prayers,
can rise with grace,
and walk again
like she was never on the ground.