fear – Creatorskind

Posted on February 1, 2024February 6, 2024 by She Who Rises

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.

Posted on December 4, 2023December 5, 2023 by She Who Rises

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.

Posted on September 1, 2023September 3, 2023 by She Who Rises · 1 Comment

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.

Posted on July 30, 2023 by She Who Rises

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.

💜

Posted on April 16, 2023April 17, 2023 by She Who Rises

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.

Posted on March 19, 2023March 28, 2023 by She Who Rises · 2 Comments

There’s something I haven’t told you

A couple of weeks ago, if you asked me how I was, I would have told you, joyfully, that I am in the middle of a transformation – into what, I wasn’t sure. But in the end, I knew I would be altogether different, a truly new thing.

Around the same time, I told my new supervisor, who is sharp, thoughtful, and fairly self-aware, in a carefully worded email, that, in fact, I would not be attending a webinar as I had previously agreed. This webinar featured a panel of professionals in an adjacent field who would be discussing how they – as white people – can advance racial justice and “disrupt” white held spaces and power in the industry. Specifically, I was asked to attend and report back any key takeaways for the rest of our – all white (except for me) – team.

Why? I have no idea, except that I am one of very few employees that can be tasked with anything, since consultants make up nearly half of our very small staff.

What’s the problem? It’s not an issue of pay grade, title, or status. It’s not pride. In my retraction, I said that I wasn’t comfortable following through. But it’s not really even about comfort, not entirely. It’s more than that.

In a society built to serve whiteness in every way possible, it feels … wrong to also expect marginalized people to educate or spoon-feed anything related to their experience, even steps others are taking to dismantle an oppressive system, to those who still dominate that society. It reeks of subservience and plain laziness.

To those that expect this, I offer: Why not educate yourself for yourself? Do the work of investigating, exposure, and immersion that everyone else has to do in-order to navigate this society. Share the burden. Shoot, consider it a hobby (🙄).

That subtle sense of entitlement can show up in so many different ways. But I bristle against it in all of them because, to me, it feels wrong… And by wrong, I mean, unfair and insulting.

So why did I say yes in the first place?

And this is what I haven’t told you…

I’ve had my integrity, character, professionalism, and expertise attacked in the workplace. I’m not talking about dealing with ugly rumors, office politics or the juvenile antics of middle-aged mean girls, although that’s part of the package too.

I mean the kind of attack where someone tells a lie about you to the police that, if proven to be true, could land you in jail, not just ruining your career, but revoking your freedom. And while that’s bad enough, it isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is that those who were in a position to tell the truth and defend me publicly stood by and did nothing.

I could list a million reasons why the person lied about me and tried to ruin my life – bitterness, fear, jealousy, racist hatred. At least, that’s what I have been told. As for the abandonment of my supervisors, my only guess is that they feared being attacked themselves.

But in all honesty, I don’t know why anyone did what they did. I never asked. I was too busy trying not to commit murder (or assault). I was too busy trying not to be a walking stereotype. I was too busy trying not to make Jesus look bad because of his association with me. Because, while I don’t get preachy at work, I don’t hide that I rep’ Jesus either.

It took ALL of my energy to seek Jesus and do what I believe I was supposed to do in that moment, which was let him handle it. Ultimately, my name was cleared. But the whole thing was extremely hard and hurt like hell.

When I look back, I see the ease that I moved in, but didn’t feel in the moment. I see the instances where I could have easily made a different choice in one of a thousand critical moments and made things so much worse. I am sure that Jesus kept me, shielded me, even when it felt like I was taking all the blows. But years later, the pain of that experience still haunts me.

So when I am in a situation where I have to navigate white fragility, I find myself struggling to discern whether the fear, uneasiness and sometimes anger I’m feeling is a trauma response stirred up by my memories or because of a real and present danger.

So, I said yes because I was afraid to trust myself. I said yes because I hoped the pain of compliance would be easier to endure than the pain of rejection, abandonment, or being hated. I said yes because, after all I’ve seen Jesus do for me, I was still afraid to trust him to take care of me regardless of whatever happened next. But my body wouldn’t let me rest.

I couldn’t shake the sense that I had betrayed myself. So, I revoked my yes.

Via email, I said that I had changed my mind and pointed to the fact that the webinar would be recorded for anyone who was interested to review at their convenience. Period. End of sentence. No question mark. No smiley face pleading for understanding. No invitation to discuss (and possibly debate) it further.

I didn’t get a response, despite receiving a flurry of responses to other unrelated emails from the same person.

The next day, realizing that it may not have been clear why I wasn’t comfortable, I sent another email, clarifying that my retraction was due to the webinar’s subject matter. This time, I offered to discuss it.

Still, it’s been crickets over the roughly two weeks since. And I’m not sure what that means, aside from the realization that my supervisor is conflict avoidant.

Have I been ignored or accepted, if only grudgingly? I don’t know. I don’t have a lot of experience with this. Setting boundaries is new territory.

Posted on January 22, 2023January 23, 2023 by She Who Rises

Catch 22

Water rises up to the edge of my eyelid, falls into my lashes, and dribbles down my cheek as I watch the screen. My mind is connecting with what I am hearing in a way that I don’t yet have words for, so the tears come. Tears of relief, joy, and hope. Tears for the end of a loooong trial that’s been hard to observe with the naked eye, but has been present all the same.

I’m listening to a nurse practitioner recount the many traumatic brain injuries she’s had through the years. Concussions in many varieties that, at different times, came with a fractured skull and cheekbone, inflammation, cuts and bruises, and debilitating migraines that shock her awake and make her throw up in the middle of the night.

I explain the evolving symptoms of my own migraines, the last remaining symptom of a concussion I suffered in a car accident a few years ago. They have improved drastically despite their lingering and, often, show-stopping presence. But when I describe the deteriorating focus and concentration that has begun to affect my work and scare the crap out of me, I point to depression. Do I feel depressed? No. But since when has any of this ever made sense? One hormone decides to call in sick, or my symptoms evolve unexpectedly, and the whole apple cart turns over.

“It’s not the depression. Your medication would’ve handled that symptom like it did the others. No, it’s the concussion. I think you have medical onset ADD – the predominantly inattentive type.” I have no idea what that means. So, I say some version of a “huh?” to the screen.

“It’s common to have worsening focus and concentratration even years after suffering a traumatic brain injury (TBI). I think the concussion has brought on the inattentiveness. Medication can help with that.” She asks me if I’ve tried “Wellbutrin”. “Yes,” I answer, and add that it made me have suicidal thoughts within hours of taking it. “I’m sensitive to medication.” She pauses, then suggests Adderall.

I listen in silence, letting it sink in. As it does, the tears come. In the next second, I wipe my cheeks, saying, “I’m sorry. I’m getting emotional because this has been so hard, and you’re telling me that there’s a way out of this?”

I don’t remember much of what happened next. I learn that there’s a national shortage and that some people can become addicted. “It wouldn’t be addicting if it didn’t work,” she says. We talk about dosage and my medical history as well as my extended family’s. We end the telehealth session with an agreement to meet again in two weeks.

When the call ends, I’m bowing, sitting on my bed, and then again with my knees on the floor. Warm tears still streaming down my face, I praise God for this, whatever it is. Deliverance. A breakthrough. A resolution to an old prayer that I had only recently begun to pray again. Confirmation that I should expect good things from my Father in heaven. Maybe it was all of the above. But whatever it was, I had to offer my gratitude in praise.

The next couple of days pass in a blur. There’s a hold-up with the medication because there’s a nationwide shortage of the exact dosage for my prescription. It takes another day for the nurse to submit a new prescription for a lower dose. But my hope helps me push through the struggle at work. On the day that it is finally ready, I decide to type “Adderall” into Google, and suddenly, my hope comes crashing down around me.

I see words and phrases like “Amphetamine,” withdrawal symptoms, risk of addiction, and effects similar to Meth, and my mouth goes dry. “What the…?”

“I can’t take this,” I say to myself. “I can’t risk addiction.” And immediately, the option was off the table. But the fears of losing my job because I can’t focus and deliver tap dance their way back into the forefront of my mind.

And this is the challenge that comes with navigating any illness, the catch 22, deciding which is worse, the suffering without the medical intervention or the suffering with it. “There has to be another way,” I think to myself.

By the end of the week, I had spoken to my therapist about it – who advised me to seek a second opinion from a neurologist, asked a mentor about supplements for focus and concentration, and most importantly, asked Jesus about it – a simple question in the journal where I write my prayers.

I also endured a rainy “migraine day” that sent me into dark room rest for most of the day. But when I woke up on that sunny Friday, I felt better, drained and tired, but much better. And on the roughly hour long drive to work, I returned to a practice that I hadn’t done often enough in the new year. I listened to audio of my own voice reading verses of scripture on health, healing, and believing.

Taken from a little purple book by Joyce Meyer called: The Secret Power of Speaking God’s Word, I have scriptures covering a few topics recorded on my phone. Why? Because when I speak God’s word out of my own mouth, things change. I change.

I needed my focus to change. So I listened to my voice saying those verses and to two of my favorite RnB songs that I’ve remixed in my head to remind me of God’s love for me… “So Beautiful” and “Yes” by Musiq Soulchild over and over again as I drove to work. All of which reminded me that my God is undefeated and that the “nickname” of Jehovah Rapha (God who heals) was given for a reason. What are migraines and concussions to an all-powerful God? Crushable ants, that’s what. And I said as much along the way, ignoring how insane I might look to the surrounding drivers.

I can’t say what for sure did it. The peace of an empty and quiet office. The joy of a sunny Friday. A grateful attitude. The remembrance of the power and faithfulness of my God. Or, more likely, in my opinion, the very words themselves. But I went on to have the most productive day that I’ve ever had at this job, probably in an entire year, if not longer. And my amazement remains.

I did the practical thing. I filled the prescription. In the off chance that the neurologist agrees with the nurse, I didn’t want to wait even longer due to shortages. And maybe that’s a failure of faith, I dont know. But do I expect to use it? No. Will I forget that it’s there? Probably not, especially if the focus of that Friday never returns.

But I do expect it to return. I believe it will and will say so every day if I have to, with God’s help. Maybe the threat of an addiction will spur my mouth into action, I don’t know. And if I have to throw the pills away, then so be it. But I have been amazed, tantalized by the power of God, and I want to, need to, see it again.

Posted on May 8, 2022May 11, 2022 by She Who Rises