Skip to main content

Arm’s Length

Make space for your healing without compromising divine appointments.

In hindsight, sometimes I complain about “juggling roles” because it gets overwhelming, but I overheard my mentor share a profound statement with a group of ladies. She said she only gets burned out whenever she doesn’t allow God to make the necessary provisions for her schedule. I’m not exactly sure what that looks like for her but it made me think about my own lack of time management. It seems as if I’m always on borrowed time cause I unintentionally mismanage mine.

By now, everyone has heard the record spin a thousand times bout my introverted personality. I take staying in my own lane to a whole other level; so much so, that recently God has been tugging at my heart on the matter. Now there are some people that I have to unapologetically keep at arm’s length because their energy weighs me down. I’m simply not strong enough to carry their burdens, but I try to tactfully remind them of who can in good faith.

However, God has been breaking the mold of my introverted, inwardly ways though. Sunday, I heard my Pastor share about how we become unknowingly passive with God. Uh oh, he was on my row! I thought I was becoming increasingly bored with the repetition of a routine and here he was stirring in my pot. Out of a fear of becoming hurt, I’ve always chose to keep people at arm’s length but I didn’t realize that I was keeping God at that same distance. Truthfully, my mouth and my heart were at complete odds.

Every time I get complacent, God kicks it up a notch.

Following church, I went home and started carving out new weekly goals. There was an added charge on my life. I needed to get pass the excuses. Fear still had me bound in some areas and God was exposing my crap for what is was-worthless!

I keep thinking back over those divine appointments I had to be missing because I was consumed with trying to make this a perfect journey instead of a progressive one. I’d heard so many complaints in life that I became a self-centered, punching back. I took daily shots at my self esteem. I was disabled because I allowed condemnation to cripple me.

I secretly refuted God’s truth with my narrow minded beliefs. I ignored his call because I allowed the enemy to seduce me with his lies. Every time, I experienced a major breakthrough I self-sabotaged because I was scared to take the next step. It was much easier to witness everyone around me give birth. My joy would come from watching them birth their destiny and launch out into the deep. Being a midwife felt safe because it didn’t require me to change positions. I could stay nested in the cut until someone summoned me. If they didn’t solicit my help, I wouldn’t oblige. It was a win win—well, until I arrived at Bible Study today.

I walked in on another charge. My self-righteous attitude caused me to make excuses and ignore people and their needs. It pains me to admit this but I didn’t care to be inconvenienced by anyone’s issues. My excuse was that my load was already heavy. I still carried baggage that God told me to put down.

Instead of numbing the pain of this awareness with a huge, plate of guilt laden carbs, I made an executive decision to step out the way. I enjoyed lunch with a group of intercessors that came to the table with lots of grace, mercy and love. Pastor Spivey charged us all to put our faith on display and we did just that for each other and I pray that we continue to do that as we encounter others.

“Arm’s length” may prove to be a safe distance from some people but is it the ordained place by God?

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Broken Covenant

Once upon a time— I wanted to believe something was real so desperately that I silenced the Spirit within me just to keep the illusion alive. I saw every red flag— not as warnings, but as tests of how much  I was willing to endure to feel chosen. I asked no questions because truth was already whispering, and I feared what obedience would cost me. So I made a covenant with denial— calling lies “grace,” and confusion “patience,” because the truth felt too vast, too holy, too disruptive to the future I had built in my mind. I clung to potential like it was promise, and mistook absence for peace. Yet the weight of it— this thing I called love— crushed my spirit daily. Still, desperation dressed itself as loyalty and convinced me to stay. And it didn’t get better. It decayed. Quietly at first… then unmistakably. Each time God unveiled truth, I chose the comfort of shadows over the calling of light. I pleaded. I prayed. I begged— not for revelation, but for permission to remain where I w...
Post a Comment
Read more

From Chaos to Calm

After a while… the need to be heard at full volume begins to dissolve. The rooftops grow silent. The flames you once fed with trembling hands no longer feel like power— only exhaustion. What you burned never built a home. And somewhere along the way, you realize— not every echo returns, not every seed takes root, not every mountain was yours to climb. The grace you poured out like water in a desert, the love you offered with open, unguarded hands— it did not come back the way you imagined. And still… you are here. So instead of fighting what refuses to bend, you loosen your grip. Not in defeat— but in awakening. You release the need to be answered, to be chosen, to be understood by those who never learned your language. Your hands, once reaching outward, begin to rise— not in desperation, but in devotion. Upward. Open. Steady. God… I see You now in the quiet I once avoided. I hear You not in the thunder— but in the space where my striving used to live. And I am ready. Something within ...
Post a Comment
Read more

Do Not Resuscitate (DNR)

What unsettles me most about some people is not the harm they cause— but the silence that follows it. No conviction. No trembling. No evidence that a soul was ever stirred. As if something sacred once lived there… and quietly left. What remains is form without fire. A body that breathes, but does not  feel . A Walking corpse. Spiritually vacant,  yet socially skilled— fluent in imitation, but foreign to truth. They move through people like weather— touching everything, anchoring nowhere. I once mistook that emptiness for mystery. Confused detachment with depth. Thought restraint was discipline, when it was really disconnection. But there was  no rootedness in him— only appetite. An endless hunger dressed as desire. A man grazing on bodies, scrolling through souls like they were disposable moments. Not searching. Not building. Just consuming— to quiet something unnamed within him. Unhealed wounds don’t stay still. They wander. From bed to bed, from face to face, from high ...
Post a Comment
Read more