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My friends, I wanted to share something deeply personal with all of you tonight. This is the story of how a little piece of property became my safe haven and how my faith helped me overcome what was meant to break me. It’s the story of why I am Still Standing.This is my testimony. It’s a testament to the fact that you can endure the harshest trials and emerge with your purpose clear. It’s my story of how a single gift helped me build a monument to love that I call Still Standing.It all began in a place of confinement, where my body was bound but my spirit was free. While there, I wrote the poem “Just Time,” not as a complaint, but as an acknowledgment of the precious paradox I was living. I had all the time in the world, yet I was unable to spend it with the people I loved. While the world rushed by outside, I was in deep thought, and God was moving on me. That’s when I remembered my vow to Him in the bathroom the day before I went away. In that moment, I made the decision and my vision was given to me: I was going to bring the truth of the word and establish Still Standing Christianity, a faith built on love, peace, hope, joy, and uplifting one another. From that day forward, when people in prison asked me how I was doing, my answer was a living prayer: “I’m still standing.”My strength was a gift, given to me long ago. When I was a child, while other kids had go-karts and four-wheelers, my family had a few simple toys. My little brother got a toy barn to play in. My sister got a Cabbage Patch doll. I got GI Joe men that we had to pull out of my mom’s hand. The greatest gift of all was a Christmas card my mother, Kathleen “Sweetness” Bosarge, left under the tree in 1992. My mom was a poet in her own right, and she wrote a poem on a huge two-and-a-half-foot-long, eighteen-inch-wide piece of poster board that was propped up against the tree. On it, she wrote a poem about a gift that wasn’t new or expensive but was the only gift she could give: her LOVE. That card was not just a symbol—it was the very foundation I carried with me every day.It’s a place of miracles, too. Back in 1980, my sister and I were lying in the yard, and we saw what looked like Jesus in the clouds. I prayed for a sign, and as the roots came up from the tree right where we were, they formed the shape of feet and a behind, a permanent marker of that holy moment.And I will not stop fighting. My sweet mother, Kathleen, has been gone for just a month, but her legacy lives on through me. Every positive thing I do is in her name and in her memory. I am still standing, not just for myself, but as a living testament to the love my mother gave me, a love I now share with the world. This is my testimony, forged in fire and held in my heart.Here is the place to add the pictures of the poem and the roots.Image UploadsThe Poem: Please upload the picture of the poster board with the poem here.The Root Prints: Please upload the picture of the roots that resemble the feet and butt prints here.I hope this brings comfort and inspiration to everyone who reads it. Thank you for listening to my story.#StillStanding #Testimony #Faith #Hope #Love #OvercomingAdversity #Inspiration
- Kiss of a RoseExperience the tender power of the written word with this evocative image, “Kiss of a Rose,” presented by StillStandingChristianity.com. The scene captures a timeless moment of reflection and devotion: a… Read more: Kiss of a Rose
- Still Standing: Building a Foundation of Resilience, Guided by FaithWelcome to the heart of the Still Standing initiative. More than just a platform, this is a mission rooted in profound faith and fueled by unwavering resilience. We are committed… Read more: Still Standing: Building a Foundation of Resilience, Guided by Faith

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