Posted on by She Who Rises

In it with me

A cloudy gray sky hovers above my head. I’m so high up that I wonder whether I can grab a piece. Its clouds conceal everything above and most of what surrounds me.

Its particular shade of gray is only slightly lighter than the gunmetal coloring the expanse beneath my feet. I’m on a ship – a giant machine sprawling around me. But it’s not just any ship.

It’s an ark, like Noah’s, with no discernable openings, yet here I am perched on its surface. The ship cuts through the choppy and frothy mix of gray and white waters below. The water, like the sky above and the ship in between, seems endless.

Though everything about this scene denotes solitude, I am not alone. There are others on a different quadrant of the ships surface, laughing and lounging in swimwear despite the gloom around them – living as if the sun is on full display.

They may as well be a million miles away from me or in another world even. But they don’t capture my attention for long. My mind is occupied by thoughts of those I left behind. People, places, things, and especially, what others may be thinking.

So, I jump.

Crashing into the choppy water, I sink just a little, the force of my weight pressing me down, then bouncing me back up to the surface. Once my head reaches the surface, I am immediately overwhelmed. I didn’t have a plan B. I didn’t think about what I’d do next. And so I have little choice but to let the water carry me wherever it chose.

I flow backward towards structures that I can only see now, at this level, on the water.  I hear a distant splash as I nearly float past the corner of a giant brick wall to my side. I grab it and hold on for dear life. Behind it, I can see what looks like a flooded city, empty and silent. I turn to look toward the sea, at the rear of the Ark moving swiftly away, and I see something headed my way. I freeze in place, anticipating the worst.

As it gets closer, I can see that it is a person, a person swimming. Then, I see that it is someone I recognize. It’s someone that I know. And at once, I feel wonder, relief, and to my surprise, love – genuine and heartfelt. Tears overrun my eyes and fall into the churning waters around me as he swims close.

It’s Jesus. He came in after me.

He swims to the wall where I am anchored in place with a look of concern and understanding on his face. He knows me. He knows why I jumped. And he knows that I have no idea what I am doing. Yet, he’s here anyway, in it with me. 💜

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Beautifully Human

Here at the start of the year, I found myself teetering on the edge of a (yet another) depressive episode. In the last few days of 2023, I found joy in a quiet Christmas, a beautifully reimagined The Color Purple, and a simple NYE. But as the new year began, heavy rain and the threat of snow did whatever it does to my brain that shuts life down.

It set off the migraines, drowsiness, and fatigue that keeps me stuck in a dark room, huddled under the covers, barely coming out to eat or even bathe – much like a depressive episode. And with the addition of some unwelcome medical news and the ending of some important relationships, my personal cache of hope began to slip through my fingers.

This odyssey with my health followed me into the new year, along with a very real and recent job loss. Last year, my deeply analytical brain couldn’t muster the cognitive strength to do my job. I couldn’t even fake it. As 2024 approached, I tried not to think too much about how I would manage, much less overcome all of this, until I was firmly in the new year.

At this point, I am convinced that God has gotten me every job that I’ve ever had. In each scenario, there were too few options and resources to see it any differently. And through prayer, I had been reassured that the God that did that for me so many times before would do it again when the time came. So, again, I tried not to dwell on it… until the new year.

But when 2024 came, I felt overwhelmed that I didn’t have a single idea of how I would navigate any of this. To be honest, I’m still crawling my way out of those feelings. And you know what else? It’s frustrating as hell.

It’s frustrating to believe in a very real and personal God, yet still struggle with doubt and fear that makes me want to control everything. I used to believe that all I needed was to be reassured that God had it, had me, and all my worries would melt away. But more and more, I’m seeing that faith doesn’t exactly work that way all the time, or at least not mine.

I’m seeing that faith still takes work, no matter what reassuring words the Holy Spirit whispers into my heart in the quiet hours of the night. I’m learning that I may still have to hold on to the word even when I can’t see it happening for me, even when there’s no evidence that it ever will.

Sometimes, building this muscle of faith sucks. But I’m also seeing that it’s okay to acknowledge that it does sometimes suck.

So often, I want to push myself to shake it off or beat myself up when I find myself dwelling on the hard and uncertain stuff. I get angry. I get sad. I become unforgiving of self. But emotions are just signals to be investigated, right? And, make no mistake, they are God-given.

If I’m made in the image of God, in mind, body and spirit, and the God of the Bible gets angry, is grieved, or has any other emotion, then so can I. I have yet to see Jesus, the Father, or Holy Spirit try to repress how they feel in the Bible.

There’s no mention of Jesus beating himself up for being frustrated with the disciples’ lack of faith or after running the money changers out of the temple. I’ve never heard of Daddy God pretending not to regret that he had made people during all the antics of Noah’s time on earth. Nor have I known the Holy Spirit to pretend not to be grieved when I’ve gone my own way or made a mess of a gift I’ve been given.

They feel their feelings… they just don’t stay there. And made in their image, I can allow myself to do the same.

I can love God and still be frustrated that building and exercising faith can be hard, frustrating, and not at all fun. It’s okay, I can feel those feelings even as I keep walking forward with God. After all, it’s how I’m made.

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Faithing It

A few days ago, a friend sent me a meme that read:

“Does anyone else wish that Jesus would walk into your kitchen,  sit down with a cup of coffee, look at you and say, “OK, here is what we’re gonna do.”

My response? A GIF of Janet Jackson eating orange slices and saying, “It’s true though”. Because, really, who can’t relate to that feeling?

In a real way, the Bible gives us keys to living with wisdom and how to stay in step with God. But it doesn’t exactly provide a solution to every specific issue or challenge that we face. Thankfully, we have the Holy Spirit to help with that. 

But what the Bible is real clear about is the necessity of faith. Faith is the confident expectation of good. It’s believing that God keeps God’s promises. It’s based on trust, and both are like muscles. They need to be worked and stretched constantly in-order to be strong.

But pause… Who wouldn’t want God to break it all down?

Who would pass on God laying out the details of our future and how to move each step of the way IN ADVANCE? Not me. And, most likely, not you either.

Right now, I’m in a situation that worries me. This brain injury and everything that has come with it has me reevaluating what my future could look like, especially when it comes to how I will support myself. And it’s becoming clear that my current employment situation is no longer a good fit for a variety of reasons.

I’m holding on to my hope that it will all work out well for me. But, I’m not sure how any of the challenges along the way will shake out or exactly how to move.

If I’m being honest, it’s been scary, and a lot of the time, I feel pretty alone, though I know better. So, a one-on-one strategy meeting with an in-person Jesus would be welcome. But I know that’s not likely to happen.

In all honesty, I wish I didn’t need faith. Sometimes it feels like trusting God takes too much effort.

But then I remember my past experiences and the faith that I needed to get through them. I’ve dealt with things that were scary at the time that wouldn’t even make me break a sweat now.  And that realization reminds me that the strength that I have now is a direct result of the faith and trust I had to cultivate during those times.

Would I have the faith muscle that I have today, if I ever had that kitchen table strategy meeting with Jesus? Probably not.

I can now see that, without the scary, faith building experiences of my past, I wouldn’t be able to carry the weight of my current situation at all.

Or, more accurately, trust that God is helping me carry it and is guiding me through to the other side of this problem one step at a time.

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Looking for hope?

There’s a song filling every corner of my brain lately. It’s soft and somber, yet Gravity swells with emotion.

It paints a picture of us individually, worried, and stressed out over the details of life. Whether frivolous or meaningful, beautiful, or devastatingly painful, together they create an enormous weight, distracting us from what really matters and wearing us out day to day.

But what really matters?

Hope.

Not in things or changing circumstances. But, hope in a promise. And a hope that promises are kept by those who make them. Really, one person in particular. But back to the song.

Seeing all of your stress and struggle, God says, “Come up here with me. I want to show you something.” And clasping your raised hand, pulls you upward, from the ground through the atmosphere and beyond space and time, to the peaceful spot at his side. Sitting high above it all with your creator, you see what God sees.

High above the joy and the pain, you see beauty and order and process. And you realize that there’s more to all of this than you can see from your small corner of your world.

There are whole galaxies and universes upon universes being formed from nothing, stretched, destroyed, and re-formed anew. There’s an unknowable number of creatures, big and small, traveling carefully plotted paths that still, somehow, include a million options for them each to consider.

Complicated, yet there is a distinct order to what looks like chaos from down below. And it’s managed by one person, the one holding your hand right now.

… Sovereign … you are …

This part of the song stays on replay in my quiet moments.

Sovereign is a word that I know but rarely use. So I had to hit the dictionary to refresh my memory on its meaning and, among its definitions, found that it means: to possess supreme or ultimate power.

As in, one who has ALL of the power.

As in, the buck stops here. ✋🏾

It’s something to remember when you turn your attention back to the details of life. It’s something God has demonstrated in all manner of ways: here on Earth, in the heavens, in the Bible, and likely, in your life too.

That power, that reason for hope, is in these simple promises, from the only one who can always keep them:

I got this. And I see you.
I got this. And I’m with you.
Believe. Don’t doubt me.

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A hard lesson

Have you ever had to learn a lesson the hard way?

Maybe, as a child, you couldn’t contain your fascination at the flames dancing atop the stove, that is, until you got burned. I bet those flames lost their appeal real fast.

At the start, the thing, whatever it is, doesn’t seem dangerous, maybe even manageable. But eventually, we learn that what we see could only be the tip of the iceberg, and it usually is. There’s often a whole mountain beneath the surface. Unfortunately, the experience that comes with this discovery usually involves some broken bones, aka consequences.

In my journey with Jesus, I have sensed a guiding force that kind of taps me on the shoulder when I get too near dangerous terrain. It often signals me to “wait” or directs me to change course. Sometimes, it’s a gut instinct, other times it’s a still small voice that I don’t really hear with my ears, but sense somewhere within me. For years, I didn’t pay attention to either.

I thought I was wise enough to thoroughly assess every situation and make my own decisions. Most of the time, I thought those nudges were my fears trying to keep me from living. Just as often, I discovered that I couldn’t have been more wrong.

By ignoring my gut and what I now recognize as the Holy Spirit’s leading, I was headed straight into a disaster, something that could ruin my life.


Case in point, the day of this car accident, I knew that I needed to stay home. I had felt the nudge to get more rest. I had worked until the wee hours of the morning. But I still felt pressure to make it in, albeit around mid-day. I was extremely tired, too tired to be driving, especially in snowy and icy conditions. But I did it anyway.

In the end, I totaled my car and got a concussion. Thankfully, I was the only person impacted, and my insurance covered everything. God absolutely took care of me. Medical bills were covered, rental car paid for and eventually, even got a new (to me) car paid for in (mostly) cash. I was struggling through some intense migraines but was told it was temporary. I had reason to hope. I was enduring the consequences of my own stupid actions while witnessing God’s faithfulness all at the same time.

Now, almost 5 years later, I’m still struggling with debilitating migraines, and some serious cognitive issues that I wasn’t even aware of until a few months ago, but now seem plain as day when I look back over the years. It’s been tough… I can’t lie. Some days, I feel like I’m drowning.

I have often blamed myself. I mean, it is entirely my fault. But blaming doesn’t fix it. I beat myself up, too, but that doesn’t help either. I hold all my questions and complaints from God until I collapse, unable to stand up under it all. I think, “Why would God want to hear any of that anyway?” Though, I’m sure God already knows.

I can’t begin to know why God allowed things to go this way. And I have no idea what I might gain by this prolonged suffering from a God that makes all things work together for my good. But I have noticed something worth mentioning.

He hasn’t left.

That guiding presence, the admonition to wait, that still small voice hasn’t evaporated from my days. It’s still leading – sometimes to bed early, away from overexertion, to time with him – in his Word, to the right doctors and specialists. I didn’t expect it, but I’m learning a hard lesson about God’s faithfulness. I’m learning that it’s constant, even in the face of my own failure.

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Afraid? God isn’t.

A few years ago, while walking down a hallway at work, I felt a sharp, gouging pain in my body that made me cry out. Instead of copying the documents in my hand, I was paralyzed by pain and leaning on the nearest wall for support. Out. Of. Nowhere. It was the same sharp pain I felt while laying in bed a few nights before. Both times, it took my breath away.

That pain was my introduction to a mysterious mass that had formed undetected within my body. It led me on a journey to the offices of more specialists than I can remember, an endless stream of blood tests, exams and scans, a $200 ambulance ride from an imaging center to the hospital across the street (don’t ask), and finally, a successful surgery 6 months later.

By then, so many people had seen me at least partially-naked that I wondered whether I should have been getting paid. Thankfully, in the end, the mass was completely removed and non-cancerous. And though it wasn’t the only source of pain, removing it took care of most of it. Now, nearly 8 years later, I am relieved to say that it hasn’t returned.

I don’t think about that time in my life too often these days. But it was the first thought to cross my mind when a friend randomly texted me a song a few weeks ago. It was Ty Tribbett’s – If he did it before … Same God.

It’s a hella hype, upbeat gospel song from the early 2000’s whose point is clear and simple.  It’s this: if God took care of you before, well guess what? God will do it again. Why? Because he’s the same God today that he was back then.

I had heard it randomly a week or two before for what may have been the first time in years. As soon as I saw the link with the song title, the lyrics came to me in an instant and I had a burst of joy. It was an unexpected, but welcome infusion of hope into my day; a reminder that I desperately needed.

I got a concussion in a car accident a few years ago. I thought the symptoms were on their way out, albeit at a snails pace, but over the last year or so, they have come back with a vengeance. It’s had real impacts on my ability to work and just exist on a daily basis. And low key, it has been stressing a sistah out!

Debilitating migraines, cognitive fatigue and a host of other symptoms have been so much a part of my days that it’s  been hard not to wonder if this is what the rest of my life will look like. In the haze of a stabbing, eye-watering migraine, I’ve wondered, is this my new normal?

The idea alone is terrifying.

But that song reminded me of something that God had been showing me little by little in my quiet time with him: the wind and the waves. 

If you haven’t heard the story, Jesus had just finished feeding a huge crowd of people, well-over 5,000. He had taken a little boys lunch and multiplied it until it was enough to feed thousands, and leave a whole lot of leftovers. It was a huge miracle. His main crew, the disciples, had witnessed and been part of it all.


Immediately after this spectacle, they found themselves on a boat in the middle of a ferocious storm. With dark skies above them and heavy waves crashing against the boat, they were in a state of panic.  And Jesus wasn’t there. He had gone to a private spot by himself to pray. He had promised to join them later, and true to his word, he did.

In sheer terror, they looked out across the waves and saw him walking toward them. Not on the beach, but on the waves themselves!

They thought they were losing it… or that it was a ghost… or both. But Jesus assured them that it was him, and with all kinds of chill, proceeded to stop the storm and calm the waves – another miracle. Astounded by their little faith after seeing him feed all of those people only hours before, he asked them, “Why did you doubt me?”

There’s more to the story, but being reminded of this moment between the disciples and Jesus brought me back to my own struggle and the song.

I’d been through a scary health situation before, hadn’t I? This was a new scenario, but no less serious.  And really, the details are the only thing that’s different here. Jesus didn’t change. He’s just as capable, just as faithful, just as concerned and on top of things as he was back then. And even though I’m afraid, that doesn’t mean that he is.

Whether it’s on an operating table or in a storm-battered boat, he’s here and he’s got me. He’s faithful. I have my own experience to prove it, and the disciples’ too. If he did it before, then he’ll do it again. Because he doesn’t change.

I don’t know exactly how all of this will turn out. But I don’t have to follow my feelings or let fear beat me down. I have reason to hope. He’s the same God now as before. My problems haven’t stumped him before, and they won’t now. Neither will yours.

💜

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Your Bright Future

Sometimes it’s hard to believe in the promises of God. That can be especially true for the ones that proclaim the good future that He has planned for you. Struggles like having a debilitating illness, navigating the ever-evolving face of trauma or even the nightly news can have any of us doubting that tomorrow could ever look any different than today. And it can get really real when you see the people around you getting what you desperately desire but are still waiting for.

I struggle with this a lot. Sometimes when I look at my present and at what’s behind me, all I see are the hard things and how so much of it looks the same, mainly the mistakes and the trials. They loom large in my vision and tend to block out my happier memories.

I have to remind myself daily of Jeremiah 29:11 – “For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.”  And really, it’s the Holy Spirit doing the reminding, because there’s a negative thoughts playlist in heavy rotation in my mind that often tries to trip me up.

It’s the Holy Spirit who brings this verse to my mind and reminds me of the power of my words, which then leads me to speak it out of my mouth. It’s the Holy Spirit who leads me to write it and post it on my nightstand, so it’s one of the first things I see when I wake up and the last thing when I go to bed.

It’s the Holy Spirit who leads me to listen to the bible on my bible app. It’s the Holy Spirit who leads me to record bible verses in my own voice on my phone and then prompts me to play them on my commute or when I’m feeling anxious to help me renew my mind.  

I don’t always believe that I have a good future ahead of me and that’s the truth. Doubt sometimes eats me for breakfast. But it’s the Holy Spirit that reminds me that my negative thoughts are not all there is. There’s something else and it’s better. The Holy Spirit guides me back to hopefulness.

So, as much as I am writing this for you, know that I’m writing it for me too.

You have a bright future ahead of you. You might not always be able to see it, feel it or even believe that it’s possible. But there are more blessings than you can imagine up ahead. So, don’t worry. You don’t have to figure it all out. But you can ask for and receive help. So, ask. And the Holy Spirit will show up in the silence, in the simple things, and in the practical to guide you back to hope.  

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Just keep going…

The last few weeks have been a lot. I’ve been under some stress that just kept building and building until, before I knew it, I was well into a depressive episode. For some reason, they usually take me by surprise.

I was having migraines every day, almost all day, for two weeks, not eating, doing the bare minimum at home and work, and withdrawing from everyone in my life before I recognized what had happened. I thought I was treading water. But in reality, the water was 100 feet above my head.

Have you ever had an experience where everything just seems to fall apart all at once?

Remember that workplace trauma I told you about? A really difficult relationship with a colleague and a reluctance to address it by leadership triggered the hell out of me. The details were different, but it felt all too familiar. And the more they dragged it out, month after month, the less safe I felt. It felt like I was being attacked, rejected, and abandoned all over again.

And I thought, “how could I be going through all of this again? Is it me? What am I doing wrong here?” And then, once I remembered that I’m not responsible for the way other people behave, including when I ask for help, I just felt alone, yet in the same place, again.

But I couldn’t just go forward like it didn’t matter. Something in my spirit wouldn’t let me. So, I set a boundary. I told leadership that I couldn’t, wouldn’t, interact with this person until they addressed the issue. Eventually, they at least had a conversation. But the sense that it wasn’t enough wouldn’t allow the burden to lift.

Around the same time, the new relationship I had developed with a tenderhearted man was beginning to shake. We were unequally yoked  – two people who wanted to be together, but were walking at two entirely different paces and not always in the same direction faith-wise. I had known from the very the beginning that this was a possibility, a certainty really, but I went forward anyway. And as the relationship crumbled around us, the painful rejection I felt was compounded by my own lack of wisdom in the first place.

A week or two later, I would find myself in the middle of another break-up. It was the end of my time with my out-of-state EMDR therapist, a person whose work with me had been truly transformational. There was no blow up, no drama, the rules just wouldn’t allow it anymore.  So, though we knew the end was coming, it didn’t make saying goodbye any easier. Up to that point I had been filled with dread, but it turned to grief when everything was said and done.  

And finally, a dinner with an old colleague and his wife that I had hoped would have been an enjoyable experience, ended up being the exact opposite. Instead of laughing and cracking jokes with the man who regularly checked-in with me, I found myself constantly dodging questions about why I wasn’t married or had a boyfriend from his wife. And in the wake of my recent breakup, I wasn’t ready for any of it. The dinner had only been an hour and a half, but when we parted, I felt like I had spent hours being judged and had come up short.

It was A LOT to endure all at once. I thought I was maintaining  – treading water. But the pain of each scenario pushed me further and further below the water’s surface. And when I finally opened my eyes and looked around, I saw that I was in a familiar place. I was failing at life  – again  – and that made it worse.  More tired than anything else, I just wanted to give up on everything, including life itself.

Before I decided to follow Jesus, I thought that being a believer would take those negative feelings away forever. I thought I would never experience pain, make mistakes, or feel alone ever again. But in the years since, I’ve learned that isn’t true. I wish I could say that I pushed my way through the despair that I felt or that Jesus suddenly washed it all away. But neither would be true.

What I did was cry a lot, get angry with myself and God, repent and do it all over again. But there’s one thing that made the difference.  When I accepted Jesus, I also accepted his spirit, the Holy Spirit, and invited them into my heart and my life. The Holy Spirit leads us in ways that we can’t always see at the time. Moment by moment the Holy Spirit directs us to the things that will comfort and restore us, even as we struggle.

It can start with something as simple as a glass of water. That bit of hydration can give us the clarity to take a shower, then lotion our bodies, have a little food, or take a nap.  Bit by bit, he leads us to just keep going, one thing, one step at a time. And slowly, over time, you notice the despair lifting.  It’s not a “suddenly” kind of thing, at least, it hasn’t been for me.

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Anxiety Calling

Anxiety has been knocking at my door a lot lately. Whether it’s been about the migraines, a troublesome lack of focus, the challenges of a new relationship, or really anything at all, anxiety found a way to slide in. Thankfully, I “stumbled” across an ad for an event that Joyce Meyer was livestreaming on anxiety and remembered to sign up.

Now people have different takes on Joyce Meyer and her bible teaching. But for me, she has been a God-send. She’s taught me and millions of other men and women how to know and honor God in practical ways. And her vulnerability about so much of her life, including the abuses and challenges she’s faced, have, I believe, helped save my life. So, whatever – I love her.

The event, called a Girls Night In, included worship, teaching from Joyce and a discussion panel all on the topic of anxiety. I soaked up every minute of the experience like a plant in dry, brittle soil.

The worship brought me to my knees. Snotting and crying on the floor, I was reminded of how good God is. The discussion reminded me that I am not alone in this struggle. Women all across the country who love Jesus, were also struggling with anxiety, and many, like me, were receiving help from God through prayer, therapy, and medication. But Joyce’s teaching made me realize why I had been struggling so much more lately. To my amazement, I realized that I hadn’t been doing two things: (1) avoiding worry like the plague, and (2) actively reminding myself of the times that God has taken care of me before.

Instead of running from worry, I was letting it run me ragged. I needed to cut those worried thoughts off at the knees by either focusing on what God’s word had to say about whatever I was worried about (or about “worry” itself) or focus on his faithfulness.  And I had plenty of experiences with God taking care of me in matters both big and small. How could I have forgotten to do this? I was tempted to beat myself up about it. But I knew that wouldn’t help. So, this time, I skipped it and quickly, got to remembering God’s faithfulness in my life.

What about you? Do you have any memories of God taking care of you that could run what’s been bugging you off?

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Long time no see…

So here goes. I haven’t written in a while – a long while. It would be easy to offer up the fact that things have been busy and crazy in my life lately. That’s actually true, though it isn’t the whole story. So much has been happening that I could write about. But I couldn’t get myself together enough to actually write about it and, so, I feel like I’ve failed. And it’s that feeling that’s stopped me.

In the many months since my last post, I’ve relocated to a new state, taken a new job, struggled with imposter syndrome and fears that it’ll be another toxic workplace. I’ve applied  to and entered a rigorous online master’s program, met someone new and experienced the tell-tale signs of falling in love, despite my best efforts to avoid it. And all of it has been complicated by depression, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, and regular migraines. But somewhere inside me, is a feeling that someone will need to read about what’s been on my heart so that they will know that they are not alone. And that’s the only reason that matters. So, I’m starting again.

Welcome to Creatorskind. This is a blog where I talk about my experience as a Black woman navigating depression, anxiety, PTSD, and a beautiful relationship with Jesus, something I never thought was possible. I hope you see yourself here and, more than anything, are hopeful too.