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“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under the heavens” – Ecclesiastes 3:1

Dear God,

I trust You. As You whispered in my heart that it is time to let go of what is not my purpose nor for my good, I sat at Your feet to listen for more of Your unctions. When did my dreams become a by-product of pain? Why did I feel as though I lived to live on edge? God took me by my hands and reminded me of His intentions for me. Jeremiah 29:11.

It was time for me to stop performing for those who never cared to clap nor hold me within their hearts. Their perception was skewed for a reason. Egypt was only a season, rather than my destiny’s location, which God designed to engrain in me lessons that pulled me out of shackles I felt comforted by. The comfort that I felt was a facade. Longevity over wellbeing trampled my progress into the Promised Lands.

God told me to let go and see what He will bring. It was my choice to decide who I’d place my trust in: comfort that enslaved me or comfort that saved me. I decided to place trust in the latter and pour my effort into my faith and its obedience. I didn’t realize that I spiraling down a path of despair until I saw visions of a future that I thoroughly enjoyed. Love detailed its path, as I sat back, and I praised God for seeing me as capable.

Those tearful nights brought me to this website page. These sentences provided keys that begged me to unlock myself from the cage. It was healing to stand in authority after forced submission to crimes against my humanity. I no longer desired to betray myself. I no longer poked and prodded asking questions on why things didn’t work out the way that I was told they should.

Hope was ridden in my heartbeat. The same heart that knew how to fill itself with what it needed and release what it no longer could hold. It moved on without wondering why it moved forward from what it left behind. That modality empowered me. In the drum of its movement, my heart taught me that life is worth fighting for. In fact, life is worth leaping for.

Remember Lot’s wife. Remember the future. Remember that seasons aren’t the reason for growth, you are.

Desperately I held unto the hem of my Lord’s garment. “Forget me not Jesus. Remember me too,” exasperated by the pain I endured, I only had a mustard seed of courage to whisper this aloud. In the midst of devastation and chaos, He answered me with peace. I couldn’t deny the way it felt to remain. I couldn’t separate myself from the relief His dream provided. I must see this vision through, and I must let go to see it in detail.

As sorrowful as grief may feel in the transition it begets, I write these words in gratitude that seeps into indescribable joy. This reflection marked pages that set me free. I marched ahead, facing giants with slingshot in hand, aware that it is God who fights for me. So with my heart heavy with faith, I danced and sung to make way for this new beginning.