It’s 2015. I suppose a new year would come with a few new definitions because times change, people change, perspectives change. If you spoke to my exes about me, they would probably never put my name in the same sentence as the word “disloyal” because that just isn’t my character but, see…there’s the problem. I haven’t been myself lately. I wasn’t necessarily “disloyal” but I was unfaithful to a man for the first time in my life. I completely put other men and other things before him when he’s always been the only one to protect my heart. Sometimes it brings me to tears when I realize that the only time I spend real time with him is when Im unhappy, hopeless and running to him to fix what another man had broken. When he makes it all better I’m back to telling him, “I’ll be back.” But, as amazing as he is, he never left me. He never gave up on me. He never took back all the things he gave me. Loyalty, devotion, and commitment all make up the definition of faithful but I considered myself unfaithful simply because I had lost my faith; I had stopped believing. Without actually saying it, I had somehow managed to tell God that He was no longer capable so I no longer believed in Him and I had become more faithful to MAN than Him.
I know how hard it is to keep your faith strong. I know how hard it is to believe that one day everything really will be okay. I know how hard it is to keep holding on to hope when everything in your life is giving you every reason to let go. I know how hard it is to carry the world on your shoulders because you’re either too prideful to admit you can no longer do it alone or you genuinely feel like you have no one in your corner willing to share the burden. I know how it feels to feel alone in a room full of people. I know how it feels to even be mad at God because you feel like all you know is pain and you’re wondering what the hell you’ve done to deserve the life that was given to you. I know. It’s frustrating & eventually you almost want to laugh when someone tells you to “just pray.” “Stay strong.” If not laugh, you want to swing because you feel like they’re not taking you seriously. I understand all of that, but the people that gave you that small piece of advice are people that understand that there’s power in having faith during prayer. There’s power in truly BELIEVING things are just going to be totally RIGHT one day. Thank those people. One thing I’ve learned is I don’t have control over many things but I do have control over the important things: my thoughts and my emotions. Positive thoughts are what keeps us happy. Healthy expression of emotions are what keeps us sane.
My brother was 11 when he saved my life. He’s no longer here but he’s the reason I’m here. You would think I had all the faith in the world but honestly, I had nothing to believe in until I listened to Apparently by J. Cole almost 4 years later. Like literally driving and crying asking myself what the hell was I doing. I realized that I’ve been strong just for the sake of being strong instead of being strong to make it to my destination one day. It’s one thing to say something that sounds good but it’s an entirely different thing to actually believe what’s coming out of your mouth. My little brother, little sister & my mommy all died the same night. The same night I survived. It became a habit to say I was doing it for them but honestly, I wasn’t doing shit for anyone. Not even me. I was just doing what looked impossible because I liked being labeled as the girl that did the impossible. I didn’t want to take on the role of being the person that made sure their deaths weren’t in vain & not be able to live up to it. I know, it sounds crazy because why the fuck would I not be ABLE to live up to a purpose that was mine before I was even born? Because my lack of faith in the form of negative thoughts told me that I wasn’t.
But today? I’ve accepted my role as superwoman and the fact that, despite what I used to tell myself, I’m doing a damn good job and will continue to do a damn good job fulfilling my purpose. I always wondered how my mother did it. I always thought she was like an angel or some shit close to it. She did everything so effortlessly. I used to wonder why she always spent so much time in that damn bathroom on her knees praying with the lights off. Praying and crying. Praying and surrendering for hourssss, yo. Being a child, I would stand by the door until she was done. She was a new person with a new innocence about her when she finally opened it & we’ll go shopping afterwards like she wasn’t just crying her damn eyes out. I didn’t learn until years later that prayer is when God gave her her superpowers. Praying to God for hours is something she did when she felt herself losing faith. When she felt weak she went to Him to ask for strength. She passed down her superpowers to me and I ran from it. It scared me. I honestly thought something was wrong with me because I had seen everything that night and still went to Howard U to start my freshman year 2 months later instead of becoming a patient in someone’s psych ward with my thumb in my mouth. I was strong as fuck and it literally scared me but today, I accept my role as superwoman because I learned that the key to staying faithful in a room full of things that are meant to break you down is focusing on God in the center.
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