After three painful miscarriages,
I was broken in places words could not explain.
Mocked by people, misunderstood by many,
Accused of destroying the very lives I prayed for.
The weight almost destroyed my relationship,
And silently, it nearly destroyed me too.
Emotionally drained.
Physically weak.
Psychologically exhausted.
Spiritually wounded.
There were nights I cried myself to sleep asking God,
“Lord, when will You vindicate me?”
I carried bitterness.
I carried questions.
I carried pain nobody could truly see.
But God…
The same God who hears silent tears,
The same God who remembers forgotten prayers,
Showed Himself mighty in my life.
When I least expected it,
He placed joy in my arms.
A living testimony.
A divine answer.
A proof that delay is not denial.
And his name is
Worship Tamara-Ebi Dixon.
My wealth.
My laughter after mourning.
My evidence that God still performs miracles.
Every tear was worth it.
Every prayer was heard.
Every shame was turned into glory.
Today, I no longer cry from pain —
I cry from gratitude.
Because my story did not end in loss.
It ended in WORSHIP. 🤍