“Let the redeemed of the LORD tell their story- those HE redeemed from the hand of the foe, those HE gathered from the lands, from east and west, from north and south.”
I never knew who I really was because who I had become was manifested in lies. Amazingly, at 42 y.o. I’m finding me, getting used to me, and fine-tuning me. My focus is now TRUTH! My goal is to inspire others to pursue truth for themselves because it does make you free!
The pursuit for truth, the discovery and knowing what to do with it, changing the internal dialogue, spells W.O.R.K.- work! Which is why many decide to stay in their old ways of thinking and being. They age yet never evolve. They pass thru yet never make a mark. I don’t want to be the woman that gets so carried away in her daily roles that she forgets about her self and God. My life has been so graciously given to me with my name on it. Not my employer’s nor my children- but mine! If you must know, I’m working on not the Nobel Piece Prize but the Nobel Love Reward. It’s the everlasting reward given from God. And all of us have plaques with our name on it. I want mine while I’m here in the land of the living.
On your quest for truth, my greatest hope is endurance. For you to keep jumping the hurdles in life. Speaking of hurdles, I used to hate those things in gym class. I would stand there at the starting line with dread. My body felt paralyzed the second I heard that one word shouted: “GO!” Because, I was the one who seemed to always knock them all down like Dominoes. My greatest fear, way before I started to run was falling and hurting myself. I would picture myself with a trapped ankle. Or at worst a broken leg. I saw some gym-mates standing around, staring with pity in their eyes. Some would use the downtime to socialize and catch-up on gossip, while some were pissed because they loved gym and I was the uncoordinated hefty girl who stood in their way. For some reason, my visualizations of this potential nightmare never involved a concerned peer. Not one. My teacher would pace back and forth with the walkie talkie up to her mouth. She was telling the administration office about my injury. I would lay stuck on the hot asphalt waiting for the sirens of help. I saw the ambulance drive up with two attendants. Usually a muscular built black man and a fit and lean white blond-haired woman with a ponytail. I played this exact scene in my mind while waiting for my turn in line. And I would strategically place myself in the middle because I figured my peers would forget if I fell.
Looking back, it wasn’t my inability to jump the hurdles that caused fear and anxiety. It was the fear and anxiety that caused the inability to make it over those darn hurdles. The fear and anxiety really came alive when my visualizations made it a potential reality. I received the biggest lie told to myself- I couldn’t do something. Now that I’m older, I’m changing the language and tone of this voice; the one that works tirelessly to hold me back with the reigns of fear of inadequacy. Even though this voice appears to be apart of me because it knows so much about me; its definitely not my friend. This voice is the enemy. My point is this- along this journey of life, thoughts and visuals present themselves to our minds, as truth. But it’s not. It’s a fictitious story designed to kill, steal and destroy all you have to give to yourself, others and most importantly, to God. Like Public Enemy said, “Don’t Believe the Hype.”