My last post was about how meaningful the serenity prayer is to me. I was glad that I took the time to reflect on the values of acceptance, courage, and wisdom in dealing with and discerning circumstances beyond our control. That was my last extended post for 2021, not realizing that 2022 would hurl me into an emotional hurricane that would require the application of every principle packaged in this very prayer.
The pain began when we were forced to let the messenger of death into our home. We resisted his presence because we weren't ready to face the truth in his message.
“Your grandfather is gone.”
His time had come. I had to accept it.
I dug deep into my spirit for the strength and guidance I needed to gather the broken pieces of my heart after it was shattered by the lie I thought was love.
Conflict came my way.
But this time I actually had to fight. Now I know what courage feels like.
You’re a boulder barreling through the forces that oppose you. You fight because you don’t have a choice. You’re fueled by the conviction to scream the truth when you’re surrounded by misinterpretations and lies. You’re scared but at this point, retreating is not an option. You fight because you know you’re fighting for what’s right. You’re fighting because you’ve had enough. You keep going because it would be a pity to get this far and then give up. It was my time. Courage was my spear. Caution was my shield.
In this period I learned that courage is to fight for a cause without compromising your eternal peace.
I had to face and fight the painful impact of circumstances that I didn’t cause and couldn’t change.
Then came the after-sting of impulsivity when I ventured and stayed too long in a place I knew I shouldn’t be. I thought I would be able to wiggle my way out before the consequences caught up with me. A repeated lesson packed more of a punch this time - unmanaged emotions block your wisdom.
“My child, I told you not to go, but you didn’t listen.”
I admit there were several times I deliberately decided not to follow my intuition, but not to an extreme that would jeopardize my progress. Maybe it was my own form of strategic disobedience.
The consequences reminded me of another thing I had to accept - there are no loopholes in the law of cause and effect.
As I write this, I remember two previous notes to myself (if you read my second musing, it should sound familiar):
“And even though it doesn’t make it any less frustrating, I believe that sometimes God requires that we level up in ways that we don’t realize we need to. Sometimes those ‘ways’ include experiences that we'd rather not go through.”
“I believe every moment of my life - the grand and the seemingly insignificant, the joyful and the painful, the confusing and the beautiful, are all interconnected in a realm by a divine plan that exists beyond human understanding.”
This belief is still solid.
I couldn’t help but notice the timing of every hurtful, nauseating event. It was almost as though everything was scheduled. One event played out one after the next in quick succession. It was as though the plot was written, the scene was playing in perfection. No cuts. Just action.
It felt like I was being uprooted and purged.
Like the pain of childbirth - excruciating, but brings forth a new creation and signifies a new beginning.
Like the Phoenix.
It rises from the ashes of the fire that once consumed it. And is reborn with a resilient newness.
And in the midst of pain, I still feel peace. While I feel sorrow, I have also never felt so much relief. As for the unanswered questions and pending concerns, I know that more truth will surface in my mind and settle in my soul as the journey unfolds. By grace, I made it through this storm, and maybe it was only round one. But what I know is that the pain will give birth to a woman much stronger than the one who was there before. A woman much wiser, more empathetic, more resilient, more compassionate, and brilliant.
And I can't wait to meet her.
Your passion for writing shows through your work. Thank you for sharing!
Beautiful experience poured into a beautiful river of words. I know this story well. Keep going dear. You’re doing great! 🙏🏾💕