The Grip Returns

 

Here it comes again,

The Grip.

With its claws of torment tearing away the flesh at my throat, 

Longing for the air in my lungs.

I won’t let it take me, 

Can’t let it take me.

I can’t stand but I fight with more determination than before.  

This time, something is different. I have something I didn’t have before. Faith.

I yank my arms free from its clutches, refusing to be bound again.

I can feel He is near me, giving me strength and courage as He stands by my side. 

I’m not as weak as I once was. 

I start to hear cheers and shouts of joy. 

They call my name, supporting me. 

I stand, and I feel His hand resting on top of mine as I outstretch it.

Together we cut through The Grip with our hand as if we were a sword, and The Grip howls in pain. It shrivels into nothing, but for a moment I still feel the grasp of its hand around my throat. But then the light shimmers forth, and every doubt disappears. 

My eyes water at the sight of all who had come to cheer me on, who had faith to believe I could win the battle. 

I rejoice, singing my praises of gratitude to Him while he smiles at me and squeezes my hand.

He believed I could do it all along, and his eyes twinkle with pride. 

He raises our hands triumphantly, and a deafening roar echoes everywhere. 

I now know that if The Grip ever comes again, He will continue to be by my side, and I will vanquish the beast, just like before. 

Again, He saves me. 

Again, I believe.