The internal clock woke me up at 3:33 am, and I sit up. Without permission, my tears flow, and for a moment, it’s been my daily ritual. I take a gulp of the water and kneel on my knees. “God, change my life and change me for the better. Whatever you ask, I will do.” I lift and take a walk to the shower, and there I release more tears. Automatically the why me’s echo in my ears. The water hits my skin, and I dance with the what ifs. But no answers come to my questions. I get dressed in clothing I hate, mentally prepare myself to go to the job that I know isn’t God destined for me, but I’m faithful. I tap the screen on my iPhone and hit the Uber app. The same destination each day. The same prayer and call for action in my life.
We all want better, and a way to break the chains that bind us. We wonder each day for those who believe in God, like I do is he is real. The more I ask for his guidance, the more I become uncertain. My confusion about my fate and endpoint increases. The ten-minute ride to work I want to last forever. I want to escape this city, because the more I am here, the more disconnected I feel. I want to make successful moves, but I feel stagnant. Every attempt I try feels like a loss. For the record, it’s not a pity party, simply an observation of my life. My reflection of the change I need to make.
The ride reaches my destination of a beautiful neighborhood from the hood I live in. The neighborhood has beautifully manicured lawns, and the street exudes a sense of prosperity and wealth.. A story of right choices, good husbands, and family upbringing. It opens my eyes to the lessons of money, power and respect. It also makes me question God. I shake my head and clear my thoughts, put on a smile and conquer the job and tasks before me. During that time, my mind wanders to the lessons I learned. Maybe God is waiting for me to take a leap of faith. That I should invest in a suitcase, and just take flight. Lately, relocating has been heavy on my mind and spirit. Chasing freedom, running for the office of success and achieving my desires.
In my head, I am full of ready to escape, but on the outside, responsibilities set in and reminders of failures. Every hour on the hour, I blurt out, “this can’t be life.” Discouragement sets in, and then, just like magic, I pretend to be happy. I make believe this too shall pass and greater is coming. The entire time believing in the theory faking it it until I make it. The clock ticks away at seconds and minutes of my life. It reminds me of my age of 49 years old and the time loss hits like a rocket. The accomplishments of writing ten books, and some days seeing no sales. The words uttering to me that talent is not enough and you need more to fulfill. Even though my heart is aching, I still finish my tasks at work with a smile and motivate others. I believe in them because I see the potential. I see the hope and destiny rising for them. No jealousy or anything because I want others to be successful.
Yet, there is a yearning and an ache like a toothache to reach heights in my craft as a writer and graphic designer. To have God answer a prayer and give absolute guidance to the absolute road map for my life.
I work hard, but if asked by God I’d work harder. If the answer is to move forward, then I will. I just need his clarification and direction. That is my fight and flight each morning to reach a level of accomplished status. To reach the heights define for me.
This year I’ve learned to become more silent and just listen. Why? I am trying to hear God and his direction for my life. I need a simple message for my journey. I want to operate in my gifts and some days as a writer and graphic designer I feel as if I miss my mark.
I learned not share my feelings and thoughts with family and friends because they utter, “pray about it.” In truth no one wants to hear your real truths. I learned in this silence season to self-reflection and assessment that over the years.
What do I want? For God to whisper direction, to live a life with of abundance, and every time I turn my head, I’m not on the struggle bus, for God to grant me favor and to give me a home I am proud of. Each day I pray that God mentions me in rooms that I’m qualified and have the potential to reach the heights of excellence. That I’m mentally prepared to handle. To remind me that I am operating in my gifts.
We all want something designed specifically for us, and the older I get the more clarity and the quest to be comfortable becomes my path. Am I close to my destiny? Is there more work to do or am I stuck in a place of complacency. The silence and sounds of she is her seeking her level of peace. When we look around the world, the she’s of the world are tired of just hope, but resolution. Those who’ve felt the effects of defeat want to know the feeling of being a champion. We want to break the chains of poverty, break the generational curses on their lives. To escape the childhood and adulthood traumas that may plague us.
To the world she is silent, and when she speak she the sound of weirdness and displacement. She doesn’t fit and the truth is I know. We often close our eyes to our fights because we carry so many of others. We become the miracle worker while breaking our souls. Each day my hope for other women young and old is that they really connect to oneself before any one else. That they are so connected to themselves there is no confusion or dismay.