By Trenika Batiste
Special to Inside The Pew
My biggest fear is dying before I have even had the chance to live. To me, living life is not about the amount of years one ages
on Earth but about how you live each day. Did I leave my mark…did I pierce someone’s heart? How would I be remembered and how soon will I be forgotten; those are my worrywarts. I am seeking opportunity and not waiting for it to knock. I dream that one day my passion will provide the way for me to get paid to do what my soul desires; to write.
Stage plays, poetry, short stories, children’s books…wherever the road leads me. The writing ability that I possess is God-given. Sometimes I impress myself. There are moments when I read something that I have written and am in complete awe just thinking, “Where did those words come from?” And at the same time, I’m answering… “Those words came from God.” For He has shown me a tremendous amount of favor, in my heart I am forever grateful. I strive to live in His presence for He knows what lies ahead of me. He is the head of my life. I put Him first so that I am able to walk confidently, blindly without knowing what tomorrow holds. I trust God with my life, I trust Him with my soul. Life Goes On is a poetry book that was written to awaken today’s generation. From a mirror’s reflection stands our only excuse. Not everyone is the same, but if we can get everyone on the same page…it will be like the day of Pentecost in the Bible days, Life Goes On. The following piece A Survivor’s Story is based on my aunt’s victory with breast cancer and how, with God on her side, Satan was defeated.
A Survivor’s Story
The thought came,
Call your aunty and have her to explain.
Give her an interview.
Inscribe,
Write about what she went through.
Being obedient I picked up my phone,
Called my aunty, who happened to be at home,
Made arrangements to hear her story,
Speaking to me, there was no hurry.
The interview begins…
As she converse
From the beginning to the end.
She speaks:
I had no symptoms
And it was not a bump.
But what I felt was a lump.
Inflammation right across my chest
And here goes my test.
I was worried and stressed,
Tensed and completely distressed.
The devil attempted to instill in my mind
Not to worry because I was doing fine.
However being strong minded,
I still scheduled a doctor’s appointment.
October 31st was the analysis,
To find out the mysterious,
The unknown,
And the nameless.
The doctor had completed the biopsy, my examination.
Scared…shaking as a leaf on the tree.
It was November 2nd when he revealed the outcome to me.
My heart was racing.
My emotions ran wild.
Doc says it’s cancerous
And it was a river that I cried.
I could’ve hit the floor.
I couldn’t take it any more.
Though my husband was with me,
I still needed spiritual support.
Stating my options,
Like a cop reading Miranda rights.
Bumpy, bump, bump, bump…my heart dropped.
Option #1
Was to remove the lump,
Option #2
Was to take the entire breast out,
Option #3
Was Chemotherapy,
My heart yet beating
Bumpy, bump, bump, bump.
Departing the hospital,
I looked up to God.
I placed this cancer in his hands.
I had to give Him my all.
I arrived at work.
I had plans to tell my boss.
I walked into his office.
But not a word came out.
For I was in denial about my state:
Me, I, Bobbie have cancer?
Words I never thought I’d say.
So
I just stood there…
Crying and weeping, I stood there.
Traumatized and disturbed, I stood there.
Lost and broken, I stayed there
Just emotional.
Finally I settled down
And told them what I had just found out.
Understanding, Sympathetic,
Concerned and Compassionate,
To leave or to stay…it was my alternative.
Not giving Satan the victory,
I decided to stay.
And everyone I saw…I told them to pray.
Pray for me…regardless of your age.
Pray for me…I don’t care about your race.
Pray for me… if you can pray.
Pray for me…because I need your prayers.
November 8,
Marked my surgery date.
Family and friends filled the hospital with their presents.
Under the knife,
I knew they were praying.
Hours later…
The doctor gave an update.
My lymph nodes were fine;
The cancer did not spread.
Taking Chemotherapy every 3 weeks for 3 months,
I lost my hair.
I craved certain things;
Other things I couldn’t eat… all apart of Chemotherapy.
But through it all God kept me.
I made it through.
Now I can tell it.
Small things are worth losing
In order to maintain
Or to remain living.
Which is the big picture!
So take my hair!
Take my breast!
I don’t care!
I’m still here!
This clock has not stopped clicking.
Ima still a ticking.
I ain’t worried about Duracell
Because I have Jesus cells in me.
My husband didn’t leave me
In spite of what chemo did me.
I’m still blessed.
And I’m still among the living.
I’m a survivor !
I’m a survivor!
I’m a survivor!
Do you hear me?
Trenika L. Batiste is a motivational speaker and author of “Life Goes On: Collected Book of Poems.” The Amite, La., resident is founder of Trenika Batiste Productions. Contact her at trenika@tbatisteproductions.com.


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