I had no appetite. No strength.
No desire to keep fighting.
But my mother… she begged me to try. Just one bite.
And I did.
Not because I wanted to… but because I had babies who still needed their mother.
That spoonful wasn’t just food — it was a decision to live.
Even when I didn’t feel like it.
Even when I was tired of hurting.
Even when hope felt distant.
I chose them.
And somehow… that bite became the beginning of a comeback.

They broke my ribs to bring me back.
I had no pulse for 20 minutes.
My lips were black. My body was depleted.
But my purpose wasn’t finished.

One week later, I sat in this chair —
bruised, stitched, wired up — but revived.
This isn’t just survival.
It’s a resurrection moment.

God said LIVE —
and every cell in my body obeyed.
I’M ALIVE. 💛✨

I was still hooked up… but I was holding on.
There were no guarantees. No clear answers. Just tubes, beeping machines, and breath-to-breath faith. But even in this — I was growing. Healing was happening beneath the surface. And this photo? It's proof that even when you feel like you’re barely making it… you’re still here. And being here is enough.

Oxygen to my lungs. Purpose in my soul.
This was more than survival. It was spiritual warfare. The pain was real — but so was my calling. I couldn’t speak much, but my life was already preaching. Every breath was resistance. Every blink was belief. I may have looked weak… but I was carrying something eternal. My voice. My mission. My legacy.

You saw weakness. But God saw war.
This was the moment I realized: even when my voice was quiet, my presence was loud. I wasn’t just lying in that bed — I was fighting for every future moment. Healing doesn’t always look soft. Sometimes it looks like this: swollen, still, and sacred. But I was never forsaken. I was just becoming.

This was the moment I decided: I still wanted life.
You can’t always see a comeback forming. Sometimes it looks like swollen lips, tear-stained cheeks, and a soul whispering “not yet.” I was still in pain. Still unsure. Still here. But even in this fragile stillness… I was saying yes to tomorrow.

I was being prepped for another surgery — this time, to place a defibrillator and pacemaker. My heart had stopped before, and they weren’t sure it would survive another drop.
But God.
This smile wasn’t denial. It was defiance.
I smiled because I was still here… and I wasn’t done yet.

Making the cover wasn’t just about the photo — it was about the story behind the smile. Featured as the cover story for W★STAR International Magazine, Shawnise Chantell embodies what it means to rise, heal, and empower. With a radiant glow and fearless presence, she stands as living proof that miracles still happen. From trauma to triumph, her voice now breaks barriers and speaks life into women everywhere. 🌿✨
“Behold a Miracle.” Because she truly is one.

This is what glory looks like after the storm.
From the hospital bed to the driver’s seat —
alive, adorned, and unapologetically bold.
Every scar told me I wouldn’t make it.
But look at me now.

I didn’t just survive. I bloomed.
Joy is my protest. Color is my crown.
And this is the woman who came back stronger.

In this behind-the-scenes snapshot, Shawnise Chantell beams with purpose as she prepares to share her story on the local news — a story of survival, healing, and divine comeback. With the cameras rolling and her voice ready, she stepped into the spotlight not for fame, but for impact. Her testimony became a beacon of hope for those still fighting battles in silence. 💡🎙️
From the ICU to the interview — now the world hears what survival really looks like.

One year after surviving cardiac arrest, she didn’t just come back — she came back shining. Dressed in royal turquoise with gold accents and a genie lamp by her side, this image is more than a photoshoot… it’s a wish fulfilled. A celebration of life, healing, and the power of a comeback that no one saw coming but God. ✨
She didn’t need three wishes — just one miracle. And she became it.
#SurvivorGlow #OneYearAlive #TheComebackQueen

I smile because I made it.
The wings on my shirt tell my story — from broken to blooming.
But don’t miss the boots.
I didn’t float here. I fought here.

This is what glory looks like after war.
Not just healed — transformed.
Not just alive — awake.

Sitting in quiet strength, she radiates resilience and grace. With a soft smile and folded hands, this moment captures the calm after the storm — a reminder that healing isn’t always loud. Sometimes, it looks like showing up, smiling through the scars, and choosing joy anyway. 💛✨ #StillStanding #MomentsOfPeace #SeriesOfMoments

Peace sign up. Bike gloves on. Determination in full gear.
This wasn’t just a ride — it was a declaration: “I’m still moving.” Despite the daily battles of heart failure, she got back on her bike and reclaimed her rhythm. Every push of the pedal was a quiet triumph over fear, fatigue, and limitation. 💙🚴🏽‍♀️
Pacing herself didn’t mean giving up. It meant choosing to keep going — on her terms.
Because comeback stories aren’t rushed… they’re ridden in grace.

With every sparkle and every smile, she carries the light of someone who’s been through it — and came back shining brighter. Crowned in turquoise and gold, she isn’t just wearing color — she’s wearing courage. Behind this joyful glance is a journey of survival, faith, and divine assignment.
✨ She’s not just beautiful. She’s living proof that purpose always rises — even from pain.

One week before going under the knife, she walked barefoot along the shore — not in fear, but in faith. With every step, she invited serenity into her soul, memorizing the rhythm of the waves so that when the doctors put her to sleep, she’d rest in the sound of creation itself. 🌊
“The same God who made the sea… would be with me in surgery.”
This was more than a beach visit — it was a sacred surrender. A whispered trust in the One who calms storms and stills hearts.