I am going to prophesy to myself that I am raised up from the grave.
That i have a unique destiny.
That I am called and chosen.
That I am not forgotten.
That my name is tattooed on his hand.
*big sigh* it feels right and good to get that out in the air, to get it said, to hear it said, to remember it, to recall it, to remember that I am more that what I believe I am.
It’s time to pick it back up and believe again.