Skip to main content

Living My Best Life Pt. 6 - The Road to Reconciliation

[Read Living My Best Life Pt. 5]

I've always loved bridges. There's something magical about their ability to carry you over troubled waters. There's something so necessary about their power to hold you up and connect you from one place to another. They give access to places you may not otherwise have access to. Or, they simply make it easier to get to the place you desire to be.

I'm still processing the revelations of this evening. Today, I feel like God punched me in the face...in the nicest way possible, of course.

What the hell does that have to do with bridges? I realized tonight that people can be bridges...connectors that help you get from one place to the next. My girl, Crystal, is a bridge. Tonight, I was blessed to attend an event hosted by her organization, F.L.A.W.E.D. Inc.  that brought women of color together to chat about how to love, purpose, and spiritual gifts. I was inspired and moved and in awe of the amazing sea of melanin I was swimming in. (Black and brown women are so incredibly fierce!) I enjoyed connecting with women who look like me, sharing wisdom about love, getting through depression, healing, forgiveness, and reconciliation. But the real kicker came in the form of two interactions that I had with two separate women after this event. Beyond other conversation points that happened in these interactions, they both said something very heart-wrenchingly simple: "I miss you."

Whew. Man. That gave me a black eye.  They were so genuinely sincere and so honest with their expression. I felt like running and hiding because I was finally pushed to confront how selfish I had been.

Many months ago, I decided to take some time away from a certain part of ministry that was draining me spiritually and emotionally. I felt as if I needed to reconnect with my calling and the reason why I said "Yes" to God in the first place. I left and didn't look back. It was abrupt. I didn't "have a lil talk with Jesus" or nothing. I just vanished. I didn't care about the people that would miss me. I didn't care about the souls that I wouldn't touch or the hearts that may not be healed. I didn't care about the strangers who connected with me week after week, whose faces I knew but names I didn't. I didn't care about hurting friendships or hindering budding relationships. I acted selfishly as I fought to find the balance between serving others and self-preservation. I had the unmitigated gall to abandon the very gift that had formed me and a place that helped me step into myself.  And although I stand by my right to care for myself in this very taxing line of work, I had the audacity to put my ego before God's will! Tonight, amidst the beauty of fellowship, I was forced to face my flaws.

After nine months of hiding in public--lying to those who questioned my absence--I began walking down the road to reconciliation.

Day 9 (7/13/16)
I am expecting reconciliation.
I re-learned forgiveness tonight. 
I re-learned healing.
I re-learned reconciliation.
I met some beautiful bridges who filled me with insight and love, laughter and wisdom. The dialogue we shared created a space for me to re-introduced myself to my purpose. There is someone out there waiting on you to make amends so that you can walk in your purpose. There is someone out there waiting on you to be who you were called to be. There's a broken heart out there waiting on you to step into yourself. There's healing that needs to take place, wounds that need to be mended, and you could be the catalyst for someone else's deliverance. There is someone out there needing YOU to be their bridge -- to hold them up, to carry them over.

Day 8 (7/12/16)
I am expecting vulnerability. 
I desire to be open and ready to receive all that God has for me. Being vulnerable is hard. As an unapologetic introvert, I find it extremely difficult to share my deepest thoughts and greatest aspirations, even with my closest friends. It's a little easier when I'm hiding behind the cyber wall. I hear God whispering, "Get ready." I'm expecting God to break down walls for me over the remaining 13 days of this fast, and beyond. 

Let's review:

7/5/16 - I am expecting a bridge (to carry me from my passion to my placement)
7/6/16 - I am expecting an action plan (to discover or create a plan for building that bridge)
7/7/16 - I am expecting a God-ordained partnership (to help me get to my placement)
7/8/16 - I am expecting a financial blessing (that will free me up to focus)
7/9/16 - I am expecting patience (in the process)
7/10/16 - I am expecting a fresh wind (of inspiration and motivation)
7/11/16 - I am expecting a new job (to support me on the journey)
7/12/16 - I am expecting vulnerability (to receive everything God has for me).
7/13/16 - I am expecting reconciliation 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"We Thought You'd Be Next." πŸ’πŸ‘°πŸΎπŸ€ͺ

Recently, my little brother got engaged. πŸŽ‰ But can I just say, Hashtag Triggered?! πŸ˜‘
I was very thrilled that he finally proposed to his now fiance and that I absolutely love her. She is so sweet and brings goodness into his world. I'm so excited for them. However, during my last trip home to New Orleans, a family member was chatting with me about it and asked about my relationship, and then proceeded to say,
"I thought you'd be next." 😣
B*TCH, ME TOO! DAMN!
I did not say this aloud as I was in my father's house (#shondo #imchurchy), but everything in my body tensed up. Every hair stood up on my boiling skin and my heart began palpitating as I attempted to calmly explain why I wouldn't "be next" while simultaneously trying not to burst into tears in front of company. I started rambling about my burgeoning career--about "our" careers--and attempting to refocus the conversation while wanting to jump into the large pot of red beans simmer…

Hey Stalkers!

I was talking to a person I (used to) know--this estranged acquaintance of mine--who said that they have friends who screenshot segments from my blog and social media postings and send them to this person. I thought, "hmmm, I wonder who the mole is?" But also, I wonder who has that kind of time to (not) follow someone on social media but to stalk them and pull pieces from their writings, out of context, and send them to someone who clearly has a fractured relationship with me. Like, with that kind of time, I could sleep an extra hour or two every day! But I digress.

I welcome all to my very public blog and social media pages. I don't share anything that I don't wanna share. In fact, I keep much of my life very private, for my safety and sanity. I write my story because it's healing--because it's freeing. I open the world to some of the most intimate moments of my life because I know that vulnerability is contagious--that transformation is not to be hoarded b…

How My Mom Made Me A Preacher

When I was a kid, I used to travel with my mom to Toastmasters conferences. I went to Baton Rouge, Lafeyette, Atlanta, DC, Florida, down the street from the house, up the street from her job, everywhere. I heard some of the world's greatest speakers. I sat in many executive meetings (because my mom didn't wanna leave me in hotel rooms by myself...she watches too much Law and Order) and I behaved quietly, pretending to doodle but really eavesdropping on conversations regarding new judging procedures and managing  leadership conflict (yes, grown people cat-fightπŸ™€). I was present for speaking competitions that my mother judged, training seminars that my mother presented, and galas that I attended with my mother as her young, but show-stealingly adorable, date.πŸ‘§πŸ½
And of course, my mother took Toastmasters home with her. Whenever I had to speak in church or prepare a speech for class, she mentored me. She made sure I had a bomb πŸ’£acronym (she's obsessed with corny acronyms)…