I hope you’re having a good week. If not, it just got better. *fist bump* Here’s a short stop for your week.
If you’ve been hanging with me for a while, you know that I love the Olympics. I’m all in when that time rolls around. The camaraderie. The sportsmanship. The celebration of culture and collectivity. I could swim in a pool of it forever.
What I also love about the Olympics is the opportunity to see the human form do supernatural things. I mean, c’mon… the length of that long jump. The strength of that wrestler. The speed of the BMX rider. It’s something to behold – something to marvel.
We can’t help it. When we witness someone excelling in their God-breathed purpose, we pause. We admire. We stand in awe. We scream. We cry. I believe what we are experiencing is a glimpse of Majesty. A peek into God’s infinite power in human form. After all, we were made a little lower than the angels. When I watch the athletes compete, I believe God shows us proof of spiritual potential. The training they endure, the mental agility they curate, then the perfect mix of energy and control spills out of their pores. We see heights, distances, and strengths that we note for future generations to honor. We witness greatness and if we let it, it can generate greatness in us.
As the Olympic Games close in a few days, I reflect on these beautiful moments we have witnessed. The courage of mental health advocacy and the power of unity. The reward of physical conditioning and the fragility of time. Now that we have witnessed such things, such superlative things, we are accountable to it. How can you see someone be the best at what she does and not do your best at work and at home? How can you listen to their stories of sacrifice and not be moved to elevate your daily efforts?
Over the course of these games, we became witnesses of greatness in real time. We saw potential realized. We saw divine purpose in every runner’s stride and every plunge of the jouster’s lance. And when they reached the pinnacle of their performances, God confirmed that there was more in them than may have realized. Medal or not.
My prayer is that we absorb what we see and germinate what we know – that our spirits have the power to spread greatness and goodness to one another. That when we see glimpses of God manifested in each other, that we pause and awe. We acknowledge and congratulate. That we cheer and encourage. That we support. Even if our religious and political preferences are different, we can be connected… if we want to be. We have the potential to be witnesses and replicators of Christ’s Love. The Olympic Games are our proof.
Peace & Thanks for listening! Stay well out there!
I hope you had an enriching day. If not, I hope these words give you some solace.
Let me start by saying that today was a hard one. As I claw my way out of depressive waters (thank you Jesus and Therapy) and realign my life, there are days like today that make me wander down a rabbit hole of “why’s” and “what if’s.” I know what you may be thinking… “Why would you wander down a road of why’s? What good does it do?” It’s not a place I wanted to be, but somehow I ended up there today and whew… talk about a headspin. Next thing I know, I was sitting in my car with a pen in my hand trying to write my way out of a dark hole of loneliness. While that’s not the cool thing to say in Christianity, we keep it real around here.
So, what happened next was a beautiful reminder in the form of a whisper. Pen still in hand with about a half-page of spillage, I heard “You’re in post-op.”
It made perfect sense… instantly. In 2019, I told a friend that I felt like I was in spiritual surgery – like God wanted to rearrange some things in my life and all He wanted was my yes. I remember saying “OK, let’s go. Whatever You want to do, I’m in.” I had just transitioned into full-time entrepreneurship and felt like I was already skywalking on faith anyway. So in 2020, when depressive waves crashed into my soul, I remember saying “OK, so isn’t it over? Is the surgery incomplete? Am I still going through it? This is rough.”
*insert radio silence here*
Me and my frustration cried and yelled feeling like a used discarded sweater. Meanwhile, my body felt limp and expended. What in the world was happening? Was this the second phase or something? Whatever it was, I wasn’t a fan and it was lasting too long.
*insert timelapse here to present day*
I sat in my car, lamenting on paper, then I heard that whisper and I saw it clearly. Me + hospital gown + hospital bed + tubes + monitors + four sterile walls. I knew the scenary all too well. There I was, lying there, eyes closed. I took a deep breath and realized what the Holy Spirit was telling me.
Occasionally in the vision, a nurse came in to check on me. A doctor had already spoken to my family. Limited visitors, one or two persons. I slept mostly. Limited words left my lips because my throat was still sore from anesthesia and/or the surgery itself.
After surgery, I think I should be up and running like a car after a tune-up. I always think that even though I know better. Once a procedure is completed, there’s a place called post-op and there are post-op instructions. Even same-day surgery has a post-op period. Nevertheless, what do I do? A slight tip over too much. *SMH* Why? Because I think it’s over. It’s done. It’s time to move on.
Well, Family, that’s how depression hit me like a freight train last year. I had a series of “it’s time to move on” lies in my head that lasted over a decade. Each compounded over the other. I still had joy. I still had divine anointing over my life. I still used my gifts in church, and yes, I still inspired others. And I did it well. And I meant it. But when I gave God permission to rearrange and extract as needed, I tried to apply the same lie – “OK. It’s over. It’s done. It’s time to move on.” Meanwhile, in the batcaves of reality and against my desire, I’m in post-operation recovery. Some friends have been removed. Some boundaries have been implanted. Some desires were shifted underneath others. Some thought patterns have been rewired. Stitching of redefined faith is in place and my insides are learning to work with them. I don’t feel like talking much because it hurts as it heals. I’m relearning my voice and its abilities. I’m raw, fragile, and strong at the same time.
I am healing.
And I can’t rush the post-op. “Change my heart, God!” “I want to be like You!” “Make me over!” Sounds great, doesn’t it? Well, if you want it, this transition can not be skipped. There are instructions that must be followed so the healing can continue past the operating room.
Tonight, I want to share some grace with you in the form of this reminder – make peace with the post-op period. It’s uncomfortable, I know because you want to jump into the swing of normal, but truthfully, your normal is different after you ask God to change it. After you want to level up inside. After you say yes. When I said “OK, let’s go,” that meant that some people, things, thoughts, and habits could not go with me… and I didn’t get to decipher which ones stayed. I won’t lie to you, Family. It’s been the rawest experience of my life to date but the best decision I’ve ever made. If you’ve been here for a while, you know attention is not my cozy place, but with this experience, I’ve had to speak up more and share my heart past the uncomfortable part of me. Every time I do, someone says “Me too.”
Hence the entire reason for this blog. I don’t want anyone to be afraid of the process of Jesus’ Love. I don’t anyone to be ashamed to say “I need a therapist.” I don’t want anyone to feel alone in their walk of faith. If no one has told you lately, you are not alone. You have value and you have purpose on this Earth. You also have a right to be the best version of yourself… the version God had in mind when He fashioned you with His hands.
My prayer is that you embrace the discomfort of recuperation knowing that healing is a process and wholeness is on the other side of it.
I love you. Peace & Thanks for listening. Stay well out there and reach out if you need to.
You made it to another week. How are you? I’m glad you’re here.
I have a thought for you. Ready? Let’s go.
Once upon a time (in real life), there was a grocery store called Food World. In Food World, there was a bakery and in the bakery was a woman with confectionery superpowers — at least that’s how I saw her as an elementary-aged child. While my single mother meticulously made sure we were fed by scouring each aisle for the best deals, I was fascinated with the sugary symphony on the other side of the glass window.
First, her skin was brown like mine, so I saw my reflection. Her smile was wide and sweet. She always acknowledged my presence and didn’t seem to mind my wide eyes glued to her work as my mother shopped. Mind you, this was when you could somewhat safely leave your child at a small town grocery store bakery window and knew she would be there when you returned. Talk about visions of sugar plums… I didn’t have to wait until my dreams to see the magic. She would sprinkle powdered sugar like fresh snow. She might as well have been a samurai with the way she sliced cake rounds in half and waved frosting between each layer. Her wrists carefully swiveled as frosting oozed out of the piping bag forming flowers and leaves. I especially liked the pink frosting. It complimented her skin so well. As I’ve said before… I’ve always been an observer. Many trips later, I could guess the end result of her creations before she finished the process — a boy’s birthday, a wedding, a strawberry shortcake… they were all gorgeous to me, but maturity started to tap on my shoulder to remind me that they were intended for specific people. They were all beautiful, but they were not mine.
How often do we become enchanted with something or someone who does not belong to us? The perks of the job may be perfect or his smile may put you in a trance, but have you considered whether the design is for you? Sure, it is lovely, but is it yours? See, every cake had a name. Each dessert was crafted with a request in mind. Sometimes I would even see her place it in the box and put it in the commercial refrigerator. I could admire as much as I wanted, but there was no way those sweets were coming home with me.
Sweethearts, God has crafted opportunities and relationships just for you. Every open door is not the perfect door for you. It could very well be the answered prayer for someone else. With that in mind, it is imperative that we allow the Holy Spirit to guide us through decisions. Yes, we have free will, but we also have a Guide. Who couldn’t use a Guide during times like this?
I’m praying for you out there. Keep staying safe and stay grounded in what you know. You are a beautiful creation and it’s OK to say “not it” if necessary.
I wanted to share four verses that may help you get through this week or this season. Think of them as vitamins for your spiritual immune system. You may be taking a hit between current events, homeschooling your kids, caregiving for a loved one, or juggling work deadlines. Your spiritual armor may have a few dents in it and that’s OK. That means you’re fighting. That means you’re surviving. That means you’re winning. So, let’s power up a little. There’s nothing wrong with taking your vitamins.
“But as for me, I will sing about your power. Each morning I will sing with joy about your unfailing love. For you have been my refuge, a place of safety when I am in distress.” – Psalm 59:16 NLT
When we drench ourselves in Love, He makes our hearts impenetrable to anything that looks otherwise. It’s a way to gear up with what’s true instead of the fiery darts melting away your joy. Clothe yourself in what’s true. Armor yourself with the Truth that you are loved. Reach out to someone that loves you to circulate that superpower.
2. “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33
His bowels were hanging out. They had beaten him beyond recognition. He wasn’t as white and clean as we’ve seen in pious paintings. He was bloody and his hair was matted from to his scalp underneath the crown of thorns. After all, when blood dries, it isn’t glamorous. Jesus knew what it was like to be deemed inferior, yet He tells his disciples to take heart because He already overcame the world… before He is arrested to die for it (John 18). You have the right to take heart too. I promise.
3. “For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.” – Ephesians 6:12
It’s hard to look someone in the eyes and know s/he/they are lying to you. It’s frustrating to explain why you’re wearing your protective mask when it seems obvious. It can make you angry when someone refuses your help. So, let me help you, Sweetheart. You’re fighting a spiritual battle. The quicker you remember that, the less those darts will hurt. Does this mean you’ll be invincible? No. It means you won’t let those darts stick because you’ll separate the person you love from the behavior you hate.
4. “Using a dull ax requires great strength, so sharpen the blade. That’s the value of wisdom; it helps you succeed.” – Ecclesiastes 10:10
Boost your spirit with wisdom. Now, in order to that, humility must come with you. To gain wisdom, you have to admit that you are not all-knowing. Pride damages armor. What a foolish decision for a soldier to run in front of a formidable straight line of opponents without protection. This is how we look when we leave wisdom behind to pursue items on our own accord. Like the Word says, sharpen your ax. When the ax is sharp, the skill is able to shine.
Well, Sweethearts, I hope these vitamins help you go a little further on your journey. I love each and every one of you, so if you ever feel like you’re drowning in your situation or that your suffocating under the “I’m fine” syndrome, call the number — 800-273-8255. Counselors are available 24/7.
Peace & Blessings! Thank you for listening and stay well out there!
I’m so glad you made it through another week. *fist bump* You’re still here. That makes you a survivor and if no one has told you lately, I’m proud of you. Want to chat about dirt? Great!
I was in a good place before it all went down. For weeks, I kept thinking about Earth… the ground, the air, the resources. Someone even asked me about global warming recently and I shared my sentiments. God didn’t make us dump trash in the oceans and hurl pollutants into the air for decades. We did that. And when was the last time you recall such frequency of turbulent and abnormal weather patterns? Alabama was still breaking heat records with 100-degree days well into October. So, do I also think Earth is aching (Romans 8:19-23)? Absolutely. I believe we are experiencing two forces at work every day — divinity and volition. After all, we are made of dirt and water, right? Anywho, I digress… let’s keep going!
Take this same battle to an internal level and I see the same tug-of-war. The person we became based upon the decisions we made vs. The person God created us to be. It’s a realistic struggle, yet we also have to factor in situations that happened to us, not because of us. This is where I was spiritually before it all went down Tuesday… in a good way. Let me explain…
The Birmingham stop of the Women Evolve Night in the Wild Toursold out four hours before I got off work and could purchase my ticket. So, I pouted for a few minutes and faced the fact that I wasn’t going. The next day, I heard God’s voice clearly say “You need to go.” The only available ticket was for the Nashville, TN and I just knew that wasn’t the method on deck. My financial basket wasn’t prepared for the road trip. I figured someone I knew wouldn’t be able to go in Birmingham and she would miraculously let me know. So, I waited it out. I even had a Gideon moment. If the Nashville stop still had tickets available that Monday, I would go. Needless to say, He tested my faith and I drove peacefully up I-65 to receive the spiritual refreshment I needed. Like soil, I gathered the broken pieces of my heart and prayed that God would nourish it when I got there. My knee burned fiercely, two women cut me off in the parking lot, I had to walk an incline and a significant amount of stairs, but it was minor in comparison to the vulnerability I would face and the strength I would receive. I took this picture before service because I had a gut feeling that I wouldn’t care to take one later. I was right.
During worship service, I held those pieces of my heart as my hands flew up to the heavens. I traveled solo, so I didn’t know anyone which meant there were also no inhibitions. I was determined to get what I came for.
Within the Word, Pastor Sarah Jakes Roberts mentioned the importance of women recognizing themselves as beautiful and formidable soil. She invigorated our supernatural selves and I found myself in a sanctuary full of other women that brought their cardiac fragments too. The atmosphere was safe. I cried freely. When she asked for women to come forward if they needed to uproot toxic seeds, I didn’t hesitate to limp down those stairs and receive the necessary work on the soil of my soul. I had roots of abandonment, depression, despair, and pessimism hiding deep within and at the most inconvenient times, they would germinate and I would feel ashamed. The crazy part is that I could see each seed and I knew exactly how it got there. So, those pieces that I brought with me were really sprouts from past pain both inflicted by my decisions and by things that happened against my will. Healing was one thing; I had undergone that spiritual surgery. Allowing infusion of strength in exchange for those pieces was a completely different story. It required a deeper layer of trust — a full submersion into my vulnerability — to the only One who wouldn’t hurt me. It sounds like an easy surrender, but vulnerability makes me itch before I have to do it. When you’re already at a low point, you have nowhere else to look but up. The difficult part is relinquishing your strength in exchange for His once you’ve stood up.
That’s what went down… well, up. And I’m so glad it did. Sweetheart, I encourage you to allow the Lord to aerate the soil of your heart. In the beginning, it may hurt like hell, but that exchange is necessary no matter how many times or levels you have to experience. Each time, remember that you’re beautifully crafted and God wants nothing more than to help you up so awesome seeds can grow out of you.
Peace & Thanks for listening! Have a great rest of the week!
In The Valve, I described what it felt like to reach a pressure point. Tonight, Sweetheart, I’m going to give you some practical tips to regroup after you’ve emptied out. Sometimes it’s a struggle, but the more you do it, the easier you can reach for it when you need it.
Remember who you are, not what you feel. I read Bible verses that remind me of whom I belong. I may feel like crap or be treated like it in a situation, but how I feel doesn’t reprogram the Truth of who I am. What I feel is valid; however, I have to live like I’m still wearing a crown. If you need suggestions, here are a few.
Write it out. If you’re like me, sometimes (who am I kidding… most times) I don’t feel like talking when I need to do so. On most occasions, instead of venting to a friend, I’ll release it on the page. I have cheap notebooks and fancy journals — it doesn’t matter. A page is a page. The beauty of writing is that it’s between you and you. Sometimes I talk to God through the pen and by the end of the sequence, His spirit has answered my questions.
Be still. When was the last time you paid attention to your breath and heartbeat? One of the most valuable lessons I learned in college was how to stop for a few minutes to check-in with myself. Each heartbeat is a blessing. Each breath is a beauty. If you have a high-energy personality, set a timer for 15 seconds. Put your hand over your heart and focus on it. Tune everything else out. After a few days, try 30 seconds. Work your way up to 5 minutes. You can say truthful sayings or Bible verses between exhales or stay silent. This practice saved me on many lunch breaks so I could return to work in a calmer state of mind.
Solo jam. – If you know me personally, you know that music runs through my veins. Another way I fill up is to jam to some favorite songs. I could be driving, standing in a check-out line, walking, or in my kitchen. The location is irrelevant. If you have a friend that can jam it out with you — even better.
So, if you see me out and about and I’m bobbin’ my head and snapping my fingers, you know what’s up. Ask me what I’m listening to and join in. lol
When the door opens for Truth to walk in, you step aside and let it proceed. That’s what I did at #WINCgoesRED this year. While we discussed heart health and eating habits, the opportunity availed for me to finally say what I had been denying. I had been emotionally eating since my father passed away and was slowly crawling myself out of that shell.
Why is this in the Good pile? Because I finally said it aloud and there was something powerful about fighting what was standing in front of me instead of hiding inside of me. I gained weight, but I was satisfied with it. I ate to make myself feel comforted in times when I grieved alone. There’s nothing wrong with eating for pleasure, but eating to mute pain on a regular basis is grounds for assistance. The Good that came out of confessing was that I would continue to confront the urge to eat my sorrow away. I wasn’t ashamed of it anymore, and the admittance of it gave me the strength to overcome one day at a time.
What is holding you hostage? What fear are you feeding? I pray that you find a friend or therapist that can help you put on the boxing gloves to fight back. I’m with you in the ring, Sweetheart. We got this and there is Good on the other side.
Peace, thanks for listening, and “see” you tomorrow!