The Devil Did What?

I have been contemplating the idea of free will, choice, and accountability for a while.  Some people may think that I'm a bit cynical, but I am a firm believer in an individual's right to choose.  Every moment of everyday, we are all faced with different decisions that we must make; from seemingly trivial things like what to wear, to much more major decisions that can alter the path of our lives.  I am a firm believer in the right of every person to make decisions that work best for them and what they want, as long as they understand that every choice has consequences and they are willing to deal with those consequences- be they positive or negative.  What I can't stand, however, is when people consciously make bad choices, but then refuse to be accountable for it.

The video clip above is of Flip Wilson who built a comedy career off a character named Geraldine and her signature line, "the Devil made me do it".  All too often, we are quick to shirk any personal responsibility for our choices and blame anyone and anything else but ourselves.  Case in point: The addict that says they can't stop using because they have a disease and it's impossible for them not to do it. Their "disease" makes them do it. I'm not sure why exactly, but there is something about owning up to making a misguided choice, the idea of saying "I was wrong" that completely freaks us out as human beings.  We would rather lie, cheat, and point fingers instead of making that simple admission. Why is that?

I am equally dismayed by the inability to accept the choices of others, especially if we love them.  For example, the family members of the aforementioned addict.  Though the addict knows the repercussions of their actions, they tell their family plainly that they don't want to stop using and many times use guilt to get their loved ones to help support the habit.  The family may try to move heaven and Earth to get them help but the addict always goes back because they don't want to stop using. But love won't let the family accept that.  I run across this particular scenario all the time at work, and even in my own life with some of my own family members.  I completely understand the logic behind why you keep beating your head against a brick wall in this situation: Love. But what about loving that person enough to respect their choices and let them reap the consequences of it?

These scenarios may seem extreme, and I know there are many who would love to argue the disease model of addiction with me right about now, but that is not the essential point. The point is that there are so many times in life where we refuse to accept the choices that others make for themselves. The thing is, you don't have to like it-not by a long shot- but you do have to respect it.  Why? Because we all have a right to make our own choices, and we all want others to respect us and the decisions that we make.

I completely realize that what I am proposing is not as easy as 1-2-3.  I also understand that there are all sorts of personal issues that get wrapped up in how we respond to others, particularly those we love. But I've also learned from experience, lots and lots of experience, that you can't change the actions of others.  You can't make someone care about themselves or value their place in the world.  You can't reason with someone who has no interest in your version of truth, only in what is true for them.  So all you can do is learn to accept their choices and let them own their consequences.  This of course means not enabling them, or cleaning up messes that may arise.  Again- easier said than done.

I struggle daily with this as I interact with my kids, friends, and folks at work. I have to remind myself, though, that accepting the choices of others for themselves, particularly in situations when they know better, is the only way to find true peace of mind for myself.  When you let go of trying to change what someone else does, thinks, or says, and begin to focus truly on what you have control over (which is only yourself and no one else) and you start setting some healthy boundaries, your inner stressors decrease tremendously.  And if you are a person of faith, this is a wonderful time for you to allow it to kick in.  God gave us all free will.  He has told us what he expects of us, what the consequences are for not doing it, and then stands back and let us choose how we wish to conduct ourselves.  None of it is compulsory. So if God isn't standing over us forcing his will and desire on us, why do we do it to each other?  

I had this discussion earlier with a friend who asked about grace and mercy (G&M as she likes to call it) and wanted to know how that fits in to all this.  If God extends it to us, shouldn't we extend it to each other? I told her that she was absolutely correct; we should.  But even God has his limits, and so should we.  Giving others a space of time to realize what they are doing and to make changes in a helpful and loving way is always a great idea.  But that's also where the boundaries come in.  When it comes to a point that you are putting more effort into "saving and protecting" others then they are for themselves, it's time for you to re-evaluate what you're doing and why.  If you're doing all the work, in effect what you have shown that person is that they never have to be accountable because someone will always come to their aid.

As a mom, I find this to be particularly true.  I love my children fiercely, but I also want them to grow up to be capable and independent.  Like any mother I am constantly telling them to stop doing this or that because it's going to hurt them.  However, after about three times of repeating "Don't do that", I start asking questions like, "Ok, I've told you not to do that, but you keep doing it anyway.  What's going to happen if you don't stop?".  When they tell me the answer, that lets me know that they are aware of the consequences, but have chosen to do what they want.  At that point, my response to them is simple, "Ok, when you get hurt (or whatever the case may be) don't expect me to come to you and try to make it better. Obviously you are ok with it, so I will respect your choice and let you live with the consequences."  

My six year old experienced this the other day when he fell and hurt his knee in the kitchen.  I told him several times NOT to slide around on the kitchen floor in socks because he was going to hurt himself, but he kept doing it.  Finally I told him that when he did get hurt, I wasn't going to say anything to him, I was just going to look at him and blink;).  So, when he fell and was holding his knee in obvious pain, he opened his mouth to call out my name, but then he stopped before he got it out completely.  I walked over and looked at him and said, 

"Hmm, how did that happen?" 

He replied, "I was sliding on the floor in my socks"

To which I replied, "Ok, and what did I tell you I would do when that happened?"

And he said, "Look at me and blink.  But Mommy, you're not blinking!"

The bottom line of it all is this: we can only control ourselves and we need to take responsibility for our own choices. Though we wish we could, we can never truly dictate the actions of others. If we truly believe in God, why not pray and let him handle the rest? And the same goes for the many choices that we make as individuals: make your decisions based on what you know is in line with the will of God, and the rest will work itself out.

Now What?

The funny thing about life is that you never know as much as you think, and your brightest ideas are never quite as bright as they are when you first think of them.  It amazes me that every time I think I know what I'm doing, life always throws me a curve ball.  

Back in May, I had a very clear plan for what I knew was one of the purposes for my life.  From the age of about 8 or 9, I have been trying to write a book.  I had several false starts, trying to figure out what story I wanted to tell.  When I was 12, I decided to write the story of my (and my father's) life.  It's truly a compelling story, and I had dreams of it being made into a TV movie of the week! I discussed this with my Dad often and he seemed to find the thought amusing.  I continued to attempt to write through my teen years, but it never really came together.  Ironically, I found that the biggest problem was that I hadn't lived long enough yet so I had no idea how the story would end ;). 

The older I got, the more I talked myself out of the idea of writing a book.  I still REALLY wanted to, but I started to tell myself all the reasons why I couldn't do it.  I  had myself convinced that I didn't have the time, the story was too emotional, or I was too impatient to see it through to completion. When my father died, I tried once again and got three pages into the first chapter. After that, I resolved that I was too emotionally raw at that moment to try and I abandoned the effort, confirming my previous negative self talk: I really couldn't do it.  

Eight months ago, during my period of self reflection, my hidden desire came to the forefront of my mind and heart, and I started the journey of writing my first novel.  My new and self-appointed job was to go into the office everyday and write.  And for a while that was really cool.  I learned a lot about myself and my ability to make up really good stories!  When things became unbearable and I decided to leave my workplace, I was excited because all I wanted to do was write and now I would be able to do it freely.  I was so passionate about it that it scared me sometimes.  Everything that I thought I wanted as far as career was concerned went completely out the window.  I truly wanted to spend my days working as a writer.  

My new plan was to write during the week while my kids were out of the house and work at the hospital on the weekends.  I was also going to spend more time reconnecting with my husband, because now I would have the time to do it.  Not only that, I had time for morning devotion: reading the Bible daily (something I am embarrassed to admit that I don't do regularly) and spending some serious time in prayer.  I was so excited about this new path and inspiration.

I think that may have worked for about a week.

My full-time weekend job fell through so I had to go back to working whenever I could get hours at the hospital.  Then school ended and the kids, who were supposed to go to camp all summer, now had to stay at home all day. We don't have cable so they watch Netflix a lot on our one computer, which is in the living room.  That means no writing for Mommy because Mommy is either working or parenting!

As if that juggle wasn't enough, my mother in law passed away and now we have to grieve and cope in the midst of everything else. So at this moment, I'm feeling a little lost on my journey towards purpose. I was supposed to spend this summer working on a cool service project with my kids and writing my novel, taking short breaks to blog about the amazing progress in my life and how wonderfully things fall into place once you really find passion.

Best laid plans, right?

It really hurts when I realize that it's been almost two months since I've touched my novel.  I used to think about it all the time.  Now, I don't because it overwhelms me trying to figure out how and when I can return to it.  Same thing when I think about our family service project.  

I spend a lot of time now trying to figure out how to do a better job of achieving my dreams.  I always tell myself that I am going to come across challenges and setbacks, but I convince myself that when the time comes, I will lean into my faith and make it through wonderfully.  But then the challenge comes, and it's not so easy.  I miss writing terribly.  I truly hate not spending time helping my children with their project to raise money for the kids in the City of Hope in Tanzania.  Somehow, I allowed myself to become more focused on making sure that we can build a savings and take a trip to Disney this summer, than doing those things that I say matter most to me.

I have to refocus my energy to get back on track. I have to refocus on God. I remember telling my husband once a few months ago that I wrote best when I was reading the Bible and praying consistently.  I didn't seem to be able to write fast enough in those times; but when I slacked off, the words didn't come and I would find myself empty with nothing to say. There is a great sadness building in my heart from the many losses that I have experienced over the past several weeks. It's as if it has all caught up with me at once.  Now is the time when I really need for my faith to kick in.  I need to really walk out the words that I say to so many others all the time and NOT be a hypocrite.  Now is the time that I really need God. 

Perspective

I've spent a lot of time recently reflecting on what I've learned from my past experiences and how it helps to shape my relationship with God and myself.  I have been working really hard to do things differently; a concept which usually means doing the opposite of what I would normally.  I'll be honest, lately I've been a bit "over-confident" about it.  I was beginning to feel very wise and mature about it all.  One thing I've learned about life, however, is it has a way of knocking you back down to size and giving you a bit of perspective.  And I got mine two days ago.

I was having an awesome day.  Somehow (still not quite sure how), I was able to sleep in really late.  Anyone who knows me is well aware that sleeping is one of my favorite things to do, but motherhood put a total end to that!  I also work at night now, so I usually get somewhere between 4-6 hours normally.  After having a leisurely breakfast and joking and playing with my husband and kids, we went to the playground as a family and played together.  It was really fun because I normally don't do that - I watch but normally don't participate.  We split up briefly so I could make a quick appointment and my husband planned to take my son to get dressed for Tae Kwon Do. I was supposed to meet them there half an hour later.  Five minutes after we separated, I got one of the worse phone calls I've ever gotten; his mother had stopped breathing and was being rushed to the hospital.

My first thought was "Oh no!", but then I decided not to panic.  She had been ill and was on dialysis and carried an oxygen tank with her, but she was a tough cookie.  She was on her way to the hospital, so I was sure they would take care of her and she'd be fine.  I went to my appointment and then went to the hospital to meet my family.  I'd planned to tease her and fuss with her because she liked that.  She had a stubborn streak and was fiercely independent and she loved it when I gave her a hard time.  That was our thing- I would argue with her about letting  me help her and she would complain, but let me do it anyway.  But when I made it to the hospital, she wasn't there.

I don't ever recall seeing her look so peaceful in the nine years that I knew her.  She was really beautiful.  Her children and sister were completely devastated and visibly in shock, and I was so sad for my husband and worried about my children.  As a planner, I immediately started making "To Do Lists" in my head of who to call and what to do (planning makes one feel like you have control, especially in situations where you have none).  And then I looked down the hall at the children.  Initially my son was crying hysterically, but now he and his sister and their little cousin were playing and laughing hysterically.  Apparently free snacks and a team nurses doting on you and telling you how absolutely adorable you are helps you forget your troubles ;). 

As I watched those kids, I was amazed at God.  Oh, to have the resilience of children.  I took the kids away and went out for pizza as a distraction-probably more for me than them.  They had a ball.  They talked about their grandmother and what happened, but it was very matter of fact and practical.  They talked about missing her and loving her and being happy that she was in heaven.  Then they played some more. Very loudly and full of life. Occasionally they would ask me a question like who was going to live in her apartment now, or why she wasn't wearing her glasses anymore, but mostly they played and laughed like happy children.

Later that night, I did have to deal with more tears and questions, but overall, my children are handling the loss of their grandmother way better than any of the adults. This experience has brought me right back in the face of grief, a journey that I took three and half years ago and I did not do it well- not by a long shot.  When my father died, I went to a very dark, depressed place and stayed there.  I was fine with that.  Ironically, God used my kids as my only motivating factor to even try to come out of it, and even that was hard.  I prayed to him constantly because it hurt so bad and the one thing that always came to my mind and heart was my kids.

It's been two days and I am beginning to experience my loss now.  I've been so busy fretting over my husband and kids and their well being, I hadn't really had a chance to deal with my feelings yet.  This is so hard because it brings so many things to the forefront of my mind from remembering the loss of my dad; to experiencing the loss of my mother-in-law from the point of view of my husband, my children and myself; and also realizing that one day, it will very likely be my turn with my own mother. And being an only child with only one parent left- that is a terrifying thought.  

But then there are the children.  I remember the resilience and the joy of children, and I get my perspective back.

The purpose of life it to live it and it well.  You don't know how long you have, but we all know one day it is guaranteed to end.  I want to embrace this chance that I've been given because I won't get a do-over. There are six months that I literally do not remember after my father died- six whole months of my life, my kids life, that I cannot retrieve. I can't do that again.  Fortunately, this time I have a stronger spiritual life and I have a great circle of support around me and my family.  I cannot tell you the immeasurable comfort you feel from the prayers of others surrounding you- it is truly amazing.

Realistically, I know this going to be tough on everyone.  I'm not expecting rainbows and butterflies.  I know my kids are going to need extra support and I've made arrangements for that.  I've also made arrangements for my husband and myself as well.  There is nothing more  dangerous in a crisis than a counselor that lives to plan! I immediately contacted all my friends that work in mental health for resources and names of potential antidepressants that will work with our current medications...just in case we need them. But ultimately, we have to approach this grieving process by literally casting our burdens upon Him.  It's easy to say, but harder to do.  It seems like we are just wired to try to do it alone first, and go to God as a last resort. My earnest prayer is to be able to do this and grow from it and really be an example to others about the power of God to heal and comfort in times of sadness and loss. In the end, that's really what matters most to me- making sure that he receives the glory and honor that he deserves through me.

Write the Vision...

Sometimes I am asked to fill in on the Behavioral Health Unit for the hospital that I work for when one of the regular Case managers is out.  When I do, I have the opportunity to conduct psychotherapy groups for the patients (fun, fun!).  I actually really like the groups because they give me a chance to connect with multiple patients at once on real issues that we all encounter every day. 

There’s this activity where I give the patients a copy of Colin Powell’s “Rules to Live By”.  On the back, there is a title “(Your name here)’s Vision Plan for Wellness” with a bunch of empty lines going down the page.  The idea here is to get the patients to start to think of positive action statements to use as a guide to direct their new path to taking better care of themselves and their mental health.  Sounds pretty good, huh?

Well, I got to thinking about these activities and how full of knowledge and ideas and positive thinking I am when I’m standing in front of these groups. I realized that I am such a HUGE fraud!  First of all, I have NEVER done any of those activities for myself, and second of all, I have no clue what my own “Vision Plan” is or what that really means!  To be totally honest, I am just as flawed and troubled as they are, I just “manage” it a little bit better.

So what exactly is a vision and what the heck is the purpose of having one?  There are TONS of well known quotes that come to mind immediately like “It is a terrible thing to see and have no vision” from Helen Keller, or “Where there is no vision, there is no hope”, by George Washington Carver.  And let’s not even get started on the bible verses.  There’s Proverbs 29:18 “Where there is no vision the people perish” or Habakkuk 2:2-3 “Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it. For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry”. All this sounds great and definitely will get you fired up and ready to go…somewhere.

I am a fairly? logical and practical thinker, so my first thought when trying to figure out what vision was and how to get one was to look up the definition.  Merriam-Webster online had this to say about vision:

            ¹vi·sion

noun \ˈvi-zhən\

1: a thought, concept, or object formed by the imagination

    c : a manifestation to the senses of something immaterial

2  a : the act or power of imagination b (1) : mode of seeing or conceiving (2) : unusual discernment or foresight

3a : the act or power of seeing

4a : something seen b : a lovely or charming sight

After looking at these definitions and thinking about them for a while, I started to consider the question that we have all been asked at some point in our life, “What do you want to be when you grow up?” As a grown-up, I have struggled with that question a lot, and so have most, if not all, of my close friends.  It’s very disturbing to get to your 30’s and realize you have no clue what you want to do with your life.  So as usual for me, this is when I start praying. I needed God to help me figure out what his vision was for me because I had no idea. 

The thing is, you can’t figure out your purpose in life and not have a vision. The two work together.  To me, having a vision is that same as being able to say that I have goals and a plan to accomplish those goals.  Kind of like a To Do List for my life.  So I prayed and prayed, and once again, I ignored the answer. Why? Because I didn’t get the answer I was expecting.

Like many of us, I was expecting my answer to be something really cool that I would enjoy, that made sense with all the other things going on in my life.  I also really wanted it to include a huge increase in income for me and my family- and I wanted that to happen fairly quickly because there’s a lot of stuff that we need to get done and we’d like to get it done in a hurry.  So I kept praying and ignoring the answer, waiting for God to give in and give me what I wanted my way. Guess what? It didn’t happen.

God’s vision for me and my life calls for me to take a big time-out from my plans to spend time with him; to really get to know what faith is about and the point of having it in the first place.  The vision also called for me practice giving, and doing it cheerfully, and not worrying about receiving so much.  They always use that scripture in church around offering time about it being more blessed to give than to receive and God loving a cheerful giver, but you never really hear it used much in terms of non-monetary things like time, a kind word, or prayer for someone else. 

Sure, there are some awesome blessings in store for us as well, but I have to walk out the entire plan first.  And that brought me to the first big “Ah Ha” moment on my journey for purpose: To live a life of active service.

I was first introduced to community service by my fifth grade teacher Mrs. Faye Lenna (hands down the best teacher EVER- and a blessing to me in more ways that she will ever really know).  From the moment when I realized that a poor, essentially homeless, kid like me had the power to make a difference in the life of another child, I was hooked.  I spent my entire high school and college years pulling off one super-extravagant service project after the other. And somewhere along the way, I got it in my head that I had to be a part of a group or organization, or have a considerable amount of extra money lying around to be able to do a really good service project. 

Because of this faulty logic, I went years without serving in any capacity.  And I was completely miserable.  As a matter of fact, during that big crisis of conscious and purpose that I had in 2010, one of the main things that I cited as a reason for my discontent was the fact that I longed to be of service. I felt like I was a disappointment to God because I wasn’t doing a thing with any of the gifts he gave me to help others.  It has now occurred to me, that I don’t need any more than I already have to be an effective servant and help to others.  The only thing stopping me was me.

I realized that my real problem was that I was caught up in the extravagance- the huge sweeping programs and activities, and yes, I will admit, the kudos that went along with pulling it off.  The more I prayed about it, the more God showed me that service is giving love and help to others without the expectation of anything in return; to be cheerful and prayerful for the benefit of others.

That was huge for me. All of a sudden, literally like a flood, here comes all this extra vision and purpose and goals, without any real effort on my part other than the willingness to surrender and be obedient.  The point? If you are willing to open yourself up to experiencing your life differently from the way you’ve figured it out in your head- realizing that your dreams and fantasies are more than likely rooted in desires and wants and not need and fulfillment- you will open yourself   up to a whole new realm of possibility and make room for God to work in your life.  My entire attitude about what it means to serve changed when I realized that there are no limits to love and the ways that it is expressed from one soul to another.  It brings a joy that is indescribable and ascribes a different meaning to the reason why I’m here living this life.

Now I can answer the questions on those worksheets I give to my patients. I feel much less like a hypocrite when I stand before those people and tell them that I really do understand what it feels like not to know how to begin to put your life back on track. And as I pray each day I go up there, I really do hope that God will use me to be a shining example of His love for them and that through me, they will see and hear what they need to bring them closer to starting, building, or strengthening a relationship with Him.

Hindsight...

Two years ago, I started out on a journey to uncover God’s purpose for my life.  At the time, I didn’t know that’s what I was doing, but in hindsight, which as they say is 20/20, I can look back on it now and pinpoint the dates and events that set the wheels into motion.

I had begun to pray earnestly for God to give me some direction and let me know what it was that I was supposed to be doing with my life.  I have always felt that I was destined to do something significant with my life and that I had been given many gifts and talents for that purpose.  It always seemed to me that my steps were being clearly orchestrated to allow me to have a unique set of experiences to learn from just for that purpose. I had that feeling since elementary age, but of course I had no idea what that would mean exactly. 

Well in January 2010, I received a phone call from the Chair of the department where I was completing my graduate work.  I was working on my Master’s in Counseling in a program that was slated to take three full years to complete but ended up taking me eight!  By the time I got this call, I had only one feat left to complete: my 600 hour internship.  Yes that’s right- 600 hours. I had been dodging and dreading this internship for five of the eight years I had been in the program.  These internships weren’t paid and I couldn’t afford not to work.  I had tried everything that I could figure to try to get it done, and I even took extra classes I didn’t need to try to stall to give myself more time.  Eventually, I just told God that I was giving it to him and it was up to him to work it out so that I could finish.

So this particular morning, when I get the call, the Chair tells me quite bluntly that I’d have to finish everything that semester and graduate, or I’d have to start over from scratch.  Apparently, the program was supposed to be completed in no more than six years and she had no idea how I had slipped through the cracks.  So now I had four months to complete 600 internship hours somewhere and try to figure out how to keep at least half of my income. 

I hung up with her and immediately went to talk with my supervisor who wasn’t trying to help me out at all.  I left his office in tears realizing that I had a choice to make: a) quit my job to finish the degree I had fought long and hard for and could literally see the finish line, or b) give up on finishing and stay in a job that I hated but didn’t think I could afford to lose.  I chose to quit my job and finish my degree.  That was the first time that I can remember ever making a conscious decision to live by faith and not by a plan.

This is a good time to interject a bit of vital information.  My entire life up to this point revolved around plans.  My life’s purpose had been to plan.  Not only did I need a plan for EVERYTHING, I also needed a couple of back-up plans, just in case the first one didn’t work out.  And plans had served me well.  I had done everything I was “supposed” to do exactly when and how I was “supposed” to do it.  But we all know what God thinks about our plans- they are the happy little punch lines that keep his job of orchestrating and directing our paths, truly the only plan that matters, entertaining. 

So I’d decided to live by faith and allow God to manage things for a change. But just like most of us, that was actually just my Plan A, not my Plan –Period.  Of course I knew that God knows and sees all, but I tend to take the verse “faith without works is dead” a little too literally.

Things fell neatly into place and I started my internship on a psychiatric unit, which by the way, was the LAST place on Earth that I’d ever think I would end up.  I now see (again with the hindsight) that the last place that you’d ever think to be is usually the best place for you.  Needless to say, I LOVED every minute of it. 

Though my family was fine financially (for the most part), I was panicking about not working and searched and applied for job incessantly.  I was obsessed with it.  My way of dealing with that stress and the stress of a neglected marriage that was falling apart was to find ways to plan more.  Planning, you see, helps me-all of us really- feel like I am in control.  I had a clear plan for finishing my internship, graduating, starting a new job, finding a new house and more than likely, separating from my husband. With all that done, there was only one thing left to plan…a party.

By mid-February, the planning for my daughter’s 2^nd birthday was in full swing. It was guaranteed to be one for the record books-sure to cement in stone once and for all that I was the ultimate party planning Mama.  Not bragging, but it was a great party- and I spared no expense to pull it off.  After the party though, there was nothing left to plan and the wheels in my head started to spin because I had no idea what to do next. That was okay though- because God did.  Ten days after the party, I ended up in the hospital for eight days with pneumonia, strep throat and “flu-like” symptoms.  To this day, I still don’t see how one person can have all of that at once.  I always have been and overachieverJ.

After completely traumatizing my kids and terrifying my family with this episode, I was confined to my bed for close to three weeks.  This was torture until I took a moment to stop and think.  God clearly let this happen for a reason and I was convinced that he wasn’t going to let me get up out of that bed until I figured out what it was he wanted me to see.  I can say now without hesitation that the person I was prior to March 30, 2010 (the day I passed out in my bathroom and was carted out of my house on a stretcher by the Fire Department and EMTs) and the person I am becoming in the days, weeks and months since are like night and day.  Something inside me shifted.  But that shift didn’t happen until I was “stuck” with nowhere to go and nothing to do but sit and listen to God.

My pastor says often that the most important part of prayer is listening and that you need to be quiet long enough to hear what the Spirit is telling you instead of spending all your time telling God what you want and think you need.  When I finally did that, I realized that I had spent the last 29 years of my life running on a wheel to nowhere, kind of like a hamster in a cage.  I was so busy trying to hurry up and stay on course with this plan that I had created, with no real end in sight, instead of finding out what the correct route and destination for me was from Him. 

I knew that my life had to change and that I truly had to let God captain my ship- I really wasn’t as good at it as I thought. William Ernest Henley’s Invictus says, “I am the master of my fate/I am the captain of my soul”, but for the Christian, that’s supposed to be God’s job. When we try to do it, it usually gets botched up pretty quickly.

Well, for the next several months, things were great.  My marriage was great, I was spending quality time with my kids, I was spending more time working the small business that I had been keeping as a side gig, and I was experiencing an indescribable peace.  It was the peace that you get when you truly depend on God and don’t worry about anything.  It’s not always an easy thing to do, but we did it and it was really great.  I also started to pray more and really read the Bible for myself and not just take someone else’s word for what it said and what it meant.  

Although my father was a preacher, it was/is amazing to me just how little I knew about the Word of God.  And it was during this time that it was first laid on my heart to share my journey and experiences with others; particularly Christian women who were on the same journey of discovery as me, trying to get to God’s purpose for their life and to walk it out fully.

At first the idea sounded kind of cool and I shared it with some of my friends, and they too thought it sounded like a good idea. But the more I thought about it, the more reluctant I became.  I was afraid of what people would think.  Why would anyone want to read anything I had to say, anyway?  Because I was afraid, I convinced myself that it was probably just an idea that I came up with, definitely not something I had been led to do.  I clearly wouldn’t be so scared if it was divinely purposed, right?

Okay, time for another hindsight moment: looking back, I now realize that more often than not, the things that are divinely purposed make no sense (to you) AND scare the crap out of you.  As my unofficial guru Iyanla Vanzant says, “If you are not living your life to the point that pee is running down your leg, you are living too small.”  So, talking myself out of following that tugging in my heart was the beginning of a series of events that snowballed and could have potentially destroyed everything God was trying to do in my life before it actually got started.

Fast forward to November 2010- I finally get hired at the hospital where I interned as a PRN (as needed) employee.  The job was a blessing (financially) and I got to do the work I loved.  I am a counselor and teacher by nature; always have been since I was a kid.  But the more I worked, the more glimpses of the old me began to appear.  I started to focus more and more on working to make money.  The more I took my focus off God and put it on things, the more things fell apart.  My marriage began to crumble again, every car we owned died, and our house went into foreclosure.  But none of that happened until after I started working like crazy and lost focus. During the summer while I was unemployed but totally and happily dependent on God things were great. I get a job making more money per hour that I ever had and things fall apart. You would think it would be the other way around, huh?

By August 2011 we end up filing for bankruptcy to keep our house and I enter the worse depression of my life; second only to my ‘Black Period’ after my father died.  Now during this depression, I can’t/don’t pray, I have lost all my faith, I stop reading God’s word, and I become completely lost and don’t know what to do to fix any of it.  There were even days when I felt like I was mentally and physically incapable of walking inside the church.  I would stay at home while my family went without me. I got so caught up in trying to come up with a plan to make things better that I completely forgot to take time to acknowledge just how much God was taking care of me and my family in spite of the storm.  I didn’t actually realize it until much later.  Again…hindsight.

I became completely desperate for a full-time job and a “regular” routine.  All the living on faith was getting to me (probably because I’d lost my faith).  So, finally decide to start praying again, but this time it’s for a new, fulltime job. Doing anything.  And come November, I finally get one. 

I spent the next six months doing absolutely nothing.  Literally.  I sat in an office and was paid, but was NEVER given anything to do. For a woman like me, that was torture.  I don’t do well sitting and being idle (unless I’m at home and that is what I choose to doJ).  Fortunately, God has a lot of patience.  After kicking and screaming and trying to make my employers see my worth and give me a different position (something they had absolutely no interest in even considering) I was forced to sit in a quiet room alone and listen.  Sound familiar?  Vaguely reminiscent of my post-pneumonia lie-in, huh?

Well, I started to pray, a lot, and read the Bible a lot.  And you know what I realized?  I realized that I allowed myself to get completely off track.  I had been in the perfect place to learn and grow into my purpose as a human being, to grow in my faith, but I blew it out of fear.  But God is patient enough to wait out our human nature, to let us get back to a point where we can really hear him.  And this time, he used others to help me get the message.  Everywhere I turned, somebody was talking about finding purpose and passion in your life.  I spent my workday watching Oprah’s Life Classes online.  My pastor started preaching a series of sermons on gifts and purpose.  My favorite internet pastor Dr. David Cooper started preaching about it as well.  Even Tyler Perry started sending out emails to his list serve about it! (I promise sometimes I think those emails are just for me) Coincidence? I think not.

I started to dig deep and get really real with myself about who I was and what my passions were.  Bishop T.D. Jakes said that your passion would lead you to your purpose, and I desperately needed to figure out what my passions were.  I had spent so much time doing what I, or someone else, believed I should be doing that didn’t think I had real passion for anything. After lots of prayer and soul searching, I finally uncovered what they were. They had always been inside of me, aching to become active parts of my life, but I’d suppressed and shrouded them in fear.  For whatever reason, I had willingly kept myself from the road that would lead me to my true purpose because I couldn’t control it and it would require a level of faith that I clearly didn’t think I had. 

But of course that wasn’t the end of it.  God still had to get me back to where he wanted me to be in the first place; in a place where I was totally focused on him and completely dependent upon him. So, another series of ‘unexpected’ events led me to resign from my job and I am now back in the place I was two years ago (hopefully a little wiser and a little better prepared to embrace my destiny).

Almost immediately after leaving my job, the pressure to share my experiences with others became undeniable.  I couldn’t ignore it if I tried.  And again- the mere thought of it terrified me.  But if I have learned anything in the past two years, it’s that I want to learn the lessons the first time and move on; I don’t want to have to keep repeating the same scenario because I didn’t pay attention the first go-around.

My prayer now is that I am able to use this platform as a way to chronicle my own journey toward purpose fulfillment and faith.  I pray that my experiences help others as they grow in purpose and in relationship with God.  I also pray that God is pleased with the insights that I share about living a life full of faith.  Now that I’ve been brought full circle, my prayer is that I’m brave enough to stay the course and trust in God’s process.