Overcomer

My distorted eyesight yearning for reasoning at the world before it and the ringing that filled my ears could only mean two things. I was horribly hungover, and I didn’t take my morning recovery as directed. Or, as I feared, the 17-hour drive through valleys, plains, and over the Mississippi caught up to me.

As the ringing began to subside, the feeling within my body intensified and pain was not at my mercy. I began recalling the overflow of fear clenching my body as it prepared for impact. Blood dripped from my nose and into the water rising before my knees. As I frantically went to unbuckle my seatbelt it refused to surrender me to the freedom that was just outside of my baby blue Toyota. I began to squeeze every part of me up and out of the restraint once labeled for my safety. Kicking and screaming at the glass that kept me within the hands of death wouldn’t budge.

I was now descending into a deep watery grave in the Mississippi River. Adrenaline coursed my sympathetic nervous system as time came to a standstill, and I knew moments were too far to reach. Seconds would determine how my lungs would either tell this story to my descendants or if I would gargle my last breath.

Unknowingly, 45 seconds remained until my car would be fully submerged and I would possibly say my last words.

"Deep breaths, deep breaths..." I reminded myself as I searched through the enemy waters for my saving grace. My palm captured a red, cross screwdriver my boyfriend always used in place of the missing knob on my radio. My spirit felt life at the brink of death as I took it and repeatedly inflicted my window with every amount of strength my body and soul could muster.

30 seconds left…

Shattered glass and water attempted to suffocate my will to fight as I pushed through my only means of escape. Was my last breath going to be enough to bring me to the wailing sirens just above me? I could feel my grip on life loosening and bubbles of oxygen escaping me. I was eager to come see you; little did I know I would meet death. I hesitated to accept my faith, but the adrenaline had worn out and the darkness closing in would soon be all that’s left.

A little light from above insisted on growing brighter and my body began to feel as it was floating… could it be.

20 seconds left...

Water broke at the surface of the Mississippi river and paramedics hauled me to stones that would usually hurt my tinder skin but instead made a bed of hope. The minute that was determined to take my life was defeated by a redeemer of time. Who I believe chose an equivalent amount of mercy to match 60 seconds.

I would breathe to tell you that no restraint deserves to keep you from the freedom your spirit should dance in. When you are enclosed by what can feel like death, take a fighting breath and search for your weapon to take to war. Use all your pains and triumphs to breakthrough. Freedom doesn’t always feel like air (until it does) immediately because for something new to be born water must break and contractions/growing pains are painful but create expansion. The journey your soul has woven until this point should not be surrendered to the hands of your enemies (doubts, discouragement, failures etc.). Instead reach for the hand waiting for you and surely you will finish standing on the stones of grace. Always remember that hard seasons come but all seasons change. Take time captive and use it to carve a new life engulfed in freedom.