"Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it." -Helen Keller
On my Tuesday morning drive to Raleigh, I listened to The Breakfast Club's interview with T.D. Jakes.
Jakes discussed ways communities can process the "overall grief" felt amongst the tragedy of Kobe Bryant's death. Charlamagne posed a gut wrenching question that commanded the hairs on my arms to stand at full attention. He blatantly asked Jakes, "Does the righteous ALWAYS have to suffer?"
I felt that from the hollows of my belly.
Jakes' response, "Everyone suffers!"
"Suffering" wasn't some type of exclusive hardship permissive to a population of believers that professed Lord as the savior of their lives.
Suffering didn't discriminate, regarless as to social class, status, or power.
Suffering wasn't a "one and done".
I thought about my own journey, whereas "loss" seemed to take precedence and "suffering" claimed the center point of an unshakeable apathetic trance.
My limited options failed to grant an ounce of peace. In fact, I felt a lingering generational curse of survival form a thick fog overhead.
More so, my options didn't fulfill the realities of my goals, so my freedom felt imprisoned by nerve wrecking, reprehensible negotiations.
Every "yes" came at the expense of a "no" to self.
Somehow my "life's purpose" had imposed a "death row sentence" of babysitting others' sorrows and I felt jilted from the pain of this reality.
The silent threat of "irreconcilable differences" manifested into a bridge of constant tension.
The internal turmoil chipped away pieces of my mosaic (my creative outlet) that centered me in times of chaos.
So, right now, I feel an overwhelming urge to lash out in a rebellious defense of the persistent conflict of insurmountable emotions rising against the currents of frustration, but wisdom muffles the anger with humility.
As I sit at my desk, the word, "non-toxic" (on my vision board) catches my eye.
Sometimes, in order to create an environment conducive to the space we need to grow, we have to cultivate a system of healthy boundaries that look different from past generations.
We have to execute on new levels without explanation.
We have to explore our limitations and navigate pass them.
We have to exhale the doubt and inhale the potential.
Don't concede in the valley, before you've reached the mountaintop of possibility!
Opportunities bloom out of the "long suffering" of unforeseen circumstances. It's not too late to carve out new space and shift against the winds of adversity that seek to hold you hostage to last year's survival rates. Surviving was permissible in the pit of darkness but it doesn't stand a chance against the light of the palace.
On my Tuesday morning drive to Raleigh, I listened to The Breakfast Club's interview with T.D. Jakes.
Jakes discussed ways communities can process the "overall grief" felt amongst the tragedy of Kobe Bryant's death. Charlamagne posed a gut wrenching question that commanded the hairs on my arms to stand at full attention. He blatantly asked Jakes, "Does the righteous ALWAYS have to suffer?"
I felt that from the hollows of my belly.
Jakes' response, "Everyone suffers!"
"Suffering" wasn't some type of exclusive hardship permissive to a population of believers that professed Lord as the savior of their lives.
Suffering didn't discriminate, regarless as to social class, status, or power.
Suffering wasn't a "one and done".
I thought about my own journey, whereas "loss" seemed to take precedence and "suffering" claimed the center point of an unshakeable apathetic trance.
My limited options failed to grant an ounce of peace. In fact, I felt a lingering generational curse of survival form a thick fog overhead.
More so, my options didn't fulfill the realities of my goals, so my freedom felt imprisoned by nerve wrecking, reprehensible negotiations.
Every "yes" came at the expense of a "no" to self.
Somehow my "life's purpose" had imposed a "death row sentence" of babysitting others' sorrows and I felt jilted from the pain of this reality.
The silent threat of "irreconcilable differences" manifested into a bridge of constant tension.
The internal turmoil chipped away pieces of my mosaic (my creative outlet) that centered me in times of chaos.
So, right now, I feel an overwhelming urge to lash out in a rebellious defense of the persistent conflict of insurmountable emotions rising against the currents of frustration, but wisdom muffles the anger with humility.
As I sit at my desk, the word, "non-toxic" (on my vision board) catches my eye.
Sometimes, in order to create an environment conducive to the space we need to grow, we have to cultivate a system of healthy boundaries that look different from past generations.
We have to execute on new levels without explanation.
We have to explore our limitations and navigate pass them.
We have to exhale the doubt and inhale the potential.
Don't concede in the valley, before you've reached the mountaintop of possibility!
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