Author: Omowunmi

I am a natural-born storyteller, a wife, a mom and a passionate follower of Christ.
marriage

When Marriage Is No Longer A Dream

Omowunmi

048EB1E3-91FC-4051-849E-0477E97A3018
I am only six years and nine months into marriage. By most definitions I am still a newlywed, and thus I do not have all the answers. But I have some (this is the year of walking in God-given truth rather than false humility). I have walked through a few valleys in my short time as a wife, and I have been privileged to walk with other couples as they journeyed towards one flesh. I paid attention to how conflict, life-changes and even sin impacts marriages. I take special note when marriages come back from the brink of despair and divorce versus when they fall over the edge. There are lessons to learn in good times and in bad. And applying my heart to wisdom has saved me from some critical missteps.

When marriage is no longer a dream because the joy is gone – pray for and apply the grace to make yourself joyful. There are many times when I am convincing myself that areas of my marriage will get better when my husband starts or stops doing certain things. If he would only do xyz, then I could be happy. I have realized that being joyful is a heart position. If I wait on my husband to make me happy before I decide to choose happiness, I would be waiting a long time and building up resentment in the meantime. Joy is a fruit of the Holy Spirit so before we go on with all the self-care suggestions, get before the Lord and pray for His joy to flood your heart. And begin to choose joy in every moment. If all you have to be grateful for in a day (because there are some really crappy days) is the fact that you are alive, then rejoice for the grace to see another day. And commit to trying for more joy tomorrow. If what infuses you with joy is a good book, some silence, quality time with your spouse/friends, music or even a good meal – go for it! Whatever you joy “hack” is, plan it for yourself and indulge to your heart’s content. Do not wait on your husband to make you happy. Infuse the joy you want to see into your union. Your joy will rub off on your spouse and hopefully begin to infuse new joy into your union.

When marriage is no longer a dream because your spouse has morphed into a less lovable, caring, thoughtful, or functional version of who you thought you married – look in before you look out. A lot of times, the way people treat us as less to do with us than it does with what is going on with them internally. Before you decide that your spouse is just a terrible person and you can’t do anything more for them, are there any life-changes that could have prompted the behavior your spouse is exhibiting? Any changes to either of your schedules, lifestyles, careers, family (expanding or shifting) or sense of self that could be at the root of this unhappy version of your spouse? Do you know if you spouse’s needs for love, security, respect, affirmation, touch and emotional connection are being met? Don’t guess. Ask. Start there and do the deep digging to find out how satisfied your spouse is with the quality of their life. If you do not have the tools to ask the right type of questions or your spouse seems closed up to your prodding, get professional help through a trusted counselor, advisor or therapist. In a lot of the cases that I have observed, this is usually where the problem lies. Because “life changes” can cover everything from a change in work schedule to the frequency of sex in your marriage. Anything can affect the dynamics in a marriage. A marriage is a function of two different personalities and when one of those personalities shifts even a little bit, the dynamics in the relationship will shift too, oftentimes drastically. Most of the time, when a good marriage goes sour, it is because a need is no longer being met. Either what worked yesterday no longer works today because each individual has grown or changed. Or a new need arises that the couple does not realize is not being met. Most of the marriages that thrive in my own circle of influence are unions where husband and wife are forever recalibrating to each other’s changing needs. It takes intentionality and work but the payoff is worth it.

Most of us want the path of least resistance. If you liked flowers three years ago, I want to give you flowers forever and ever and assume that’s the best way to make you feel better. When your affinity for flowers disappears and is replaced by a longing for deep conversation and quality time, if I am not paying attention, I will miss the shift and begin to be resentful when I do not get the same positive reactions to flowers that I have begin to expect.

When marriage is no longer a dream because one of us (either me or my spouse) is in crisis, then it is time to put the work behind my vows. “Through thick and thin/rich and poor/sickness and health” are not just words. They are my soul’s pledge to do the right thing when everything else says otherwise. When I am in crisis, it is easy to focus on the object of my disdain and lose even the desire to invest in my spouse. But God knew that the crisis would arise before He called me to the ministry of marriage and when I give an account for what I did in my home, He will not excuse my neglect or sin against my spouse because life got hard – even impossibly hard. Even if the best I can manage in my crisis, is not to push my spouse away, and to accept their love when they give it – I believe grace will cover the rest. When my spouse is the one in crisis, unable to function as my partner and covering like I need them to be, I have to believe that God can cover what is missing for me. God did not create me to languish in the union He told me to enter into. If there is a need that is beyond my spouse at the moment, it is not beyond God. He has to fill me up, so I am not running on empty while trying to single-handedly keep my marriage alive (because my spouse is unwilling or unable). The good news is that where sin abounds, grace abounds much more. Whatever challenges are bombarding my marriage because of the fallen and sinful world in which we live, Christ has already made provision for me to overcome. The God who can bring back life after the grave can resurrect my marriage even at the point where it seems irrevocably broken.

When marriage is no longer a dream because little foxes (third parties/affairs, unsupportive family/loved ones, exes and prior relationships) are coming in to spoil the vines, it is time to set some trap and catch the critters. How do you set the trap? By praying specifically against the wiles of the enemy and being watchful about which entryways they are using to infiltrate your marriage. If certain conversations are poisoning your heart towards each other, it is time to cut off those communications. You may or may not have to cut off the parties involve all together. Let wisdom lead you. But if it is people that you must stay in community with out of necessity, but they want to know what is going on in your marriage so they can discourage you, perfect the art of the one-word answer, and pivot.

“How are things between you and [your spouse]? – someone digging for dirt.

“Great! [the one-word answer]. Did you see that video with [insert something unrelated]? [the pivot] – you, blocking entryways for the little foxes.

If family members, exes, or previous relationships are the ones tripping you up, it is time to set some hard-lined boundaries. Be prepared for the pushback when the people who are used to having free access to you begin to meet road blocks. The guards you set in place to protect yourself and your union will be treated like a declaration of war. And for the sake of your marriage, you may have to make peace with being misunderstood. Everyone is not under the same obligation to protect your marriage at all costs like you are. They will give an account for their own behavior but God is not gonna ask them about what went wrong in your union. That responsibility is squarely on your shoulders. Be unapologetic about championing the health of your marriage before any other relationship (yes, even relationships with your parents or your children; if God wanted those relationships to be more important than your marriage, He would not have called you to leave them and cleave to your spouse).

If someone has interjected themselves into your marriage to steal the love, affection, emotional connection or physical intimacy that rightfully belongs to you or your spouse, I am of the “righteous indignation” persuasion. God appointed you to your position in your spouse’s life, any other “rival” is an illegitimate adversary. Stand firm in your position and do not give an inch to the enemy or his devices. Seek guidance and counseling to give you the proper tools to overcome this assault on your union but do not lay down your weapons and surrender just because the enemy mounted an attack. Even if you lose ONE battle, win the war.

Marriage is a HOLY covenant. It is not a man-made institution. The devil hates marriages and he will use all manners of devices, people and institutions to undermine something so near and dear to the heart of God. If you are enduring challenges and agony in your marriage, please send me a private message. I would love to pray with you and send you some resources. God made us to thrive in our unions and He alone can give us what we need to not only endure the hard times but flourish through them.

 

life

So…I Wasn’t Crazy

Omowunmi

B222BA2C-741F-4E24-B135-0F184D6BA3D7This post can also be titled “Through The Fire Part 3” because the journey continues. If you have not read Part 1 and 2, get them here! Through The Fire and From Breakdown to Breakthrough -Through The Fire Part 2

It has been exactly one year since the panic attack that exposed my deep-seethed battle against fear and anxiety. Before that incident, I did not recognize that I had a problem with fear. I thought I was just a person that was prone to worry.  I started therapy three months after that attack and have been able to identify the root of my fear and anxiety. When I reflect back, I recognize that the fear in my heart was amplified in law school. Every day for three years, I lived daily with the fear of failing out of school and facing the humiliation of public failure. Everyone knew I was in law school. If I did not pass or graduate, they would know why. It never occurred to me that my sensitivities and law school were a bad match. I just did my best to power through.

My professors and fellow classmates did much to reiterate the fear I had regarding failure. There was constant talk about who failed and why. We analyzed and reanalyzed all the ways to answer a question wrong and thus fail a final exam or bar essay. All of those discussions made it abundantly clear to me that failing as a law student or a lawyer would be the worst thing in the world. I bought the narrative – hook, line and sinker. I do not know if law school graduation or passing the bar was supposed to magically heal the fear that had been instilled in my heart for over three years but, they did not. I graduated with a paralyzing fear of failure and a conviction that being a lawyer was more important than being human. To fail as a lawyer was to fail as a human being.

I practiced law for eleven years driven by the fear that was instilled in me in law school. I thought it was normal. But when my anxiety attack showed me that this was not a sustainable way of life, I ultimately decided that there was something wrong with me.

Maybe I was just crazy. Everyone else that practiced law seemed to be perfectly fine carrying the load of other people’s personal, legal and life-altering issues. Maybe I was just doing this legal career thing wrong. I am surrounded by colleagues, including family members, who are thriving in the practice of law. The fact that I buckled under the pressure felt to me like a personal failure on my own part.

This Friday, February 7th, 2020 – for the first time in over a year, I found out that I was not crazy. I was sitting in a CLE (continuing legal education for lawyers) and for the first time in over sixteen years, another lawyer confirmed what I was feeling. Her summation of what law school did to us was right on the money. (Paraphrasing her points) Law school broke me down without building me up and then released me into a career filled with people who are also broken and are conditioned to medicate their brokenness through substance abuse (alcohol and drugs) which usually worsens conditions such as anxiety, depression and suicidal ideation. The speaker spoke of lawyers who felt like they were “phonies” who would eventually be exposed as terrible lawyers. Their thoughts were so consuming that most of the lawyers in her stories died by suicide.

A light bulb went off in my head. I have spent years being overwhelmed by the unrelenting imposter syndrome that has plagued me since my first C grade in law school. In my own eyes, I was a terrible lawyer and it was only a matter of time before everyone would find out. Had I continued down the path my thoughts wanted to lead me, there is no telling if I could have ended up becoming one of those “who would rather be a dead lawyer than a living human,” (quote from the speaker).  I had an immediate flashback to the first moment of my panic attack; the prevailing thought was “I rather just die than feel like this.” Thankfully, I had enough emotional stability to recognize that thought as wholly illogical and unworthy of further investment. I had too much to live for. I could not let one moment of terror steal my life from me.

But sitting in the CLE, having a stranger recount my own thoughts to me was jaw-dropping and deeply affirming. I was not crazy for feeling the weight of this profession for the twelve years I practiced. I was not crazy for deciding that getting away from private practice was the best thing for my emotional, physical and even financial health. I was not crazy for recognizing that had I continued to practice law in the same way, I would have ended up on a dangerous path towards a complete mental and emotional breakdown. I was not crazy.

It is possible to enter into the career you have always dreamed about only to realize that you do not want it. It is possible to have a title that other people respected but it did not bring any significance or joy to you. It is possible to be surrounded by people who were doing the same work as you but seem to enjoy it in a way that you have never experienced. And there is nothing wrong with that. It does not make you a failure or an anomaly or a crazy person. I am not crazy for finding my purpose, my joy and my peace outside of the practice of law. And I am done beating myself up from stepping away from it. God has more for me to do than to wake up every day with dread in my belly at having to take on the mental load of clients whose lives hang in the balance of my representation. I wholeheartedly relinquish the burden to be the savior of others. Jesus already died for them. I choose to rest.

I am thankful for the new path in my career that allows me to work, consult, earn and not take on any stress of anybody’s livelihood. I am grateful for the gift of writing, teaching and speaking to women. I am grateful for the family that I still have time to love and cherish and nurture because I did not allow the enemy to kill me with fear or stress. I am thankful for my new beginning. And I am not crazy for starting over.

(The CLE I referred to was hosted by the High Point Bar and Nixon Law Offices. When I get the speaker’s name, I will include her details. She did a phenomenal job on the mental health portion of the day).

marriage

A Church Girl’s Idolatry Of Marriage

Omowunmi

“My husband is going to be a real man of God. We are going to pray together, worship together and have the most amazing sex life. We are going to do ministry together and show the world how amazing it is to be married in Christ. I am going to serve him and submit to him without question and he is going to love me like Christ loves the church. My husband will always put our family before his needs. He will never disrespect me or make me feel like less than the daughter of God I know myself to be. We are going to raise our children to be disciples of Christ. We are going to preach the gospel together and live Christ for all the world to see. I can’t wait!”

If you had asked me eight years ago to describe what my future marriage would look like, the above statement would just about capture it. As beautiful as these words may be to some people, for me they were highly problematic. Because these words were not based on my desire to please God in marriage more than they were rooted in the need to “win” in the game of marriage. Marriage had been painted as the pinnacle of a Christian woman’s life for my entire adult life and as a new believer I just assumed that I would be married. But I did not want a marriage that others would look down on – I wanted a marriage that would impress others as well as pleased God. If God would have asked me to marry someone that did not fit my idea of “the perfect Christian husband,” I would have likely refused and missed God’s will for my life.

The man I wanted to marry was going to be the suit and tie type, someone who was comfortable in the pulpit, as well as one-on-one with others. Someone who was versed in the bible and in business. Someone who everyone could see was a catch. When my husband showed up looking more like a regular guy and less like a pastor (one of the cool, young ones with a nice haircut, facial hair, and designer sneakers), and being more comfortable in the back of the church than center-stage, I was temporarily confused. Every Christian circle I operated in made it acceptable to desire and marry only one type of Christian. Anything less than what I described in my opening paragraph meant that you “settled.” And there was a point when I was more afraid of being viewed as a woman who settled than actually missing the will of God for my life.

My idolatry of marriage was deeply based in my identity as a church girl before I was a true believer. Among Christians who are raised in the church, doing ministry and well-versed in church culture, marriage had been treated like the pinnacle of our Christian walk. It was not enough to be like Christ, you had to be married as well. One without the other made you incomplete. For me, marriage was a given. I was going to get married, by any means. But once I came to Christ, I knew I had to marry a fellow believer. It never occurred to me that marriage was not a given. I did not even consider it. I had to be married. If I wasn’t, everyone would assume there was something wrong with me. I would assume there was something wrong with me.

The residue of past hurts and rejection had me approaching marriage as if it was my “big chance” to get everyone (fellow believers) to see my worth. Those who previously did not want to be in community with me would be impressed by how well I married and how well I performed as someone’s wife. My pastors and leaders would finally see me as worthy of ordination. My church would legitimize me as a good example to others and even other believers would see something in my life worth emulating. But the kind of affirmation I was looking for regarding my marriage would not be forth coming unless I married the prototype of the ideal Christian man and presented the picture perfect image of the “godly couple.”

Whenever my intended-husband or I showed signs of being flawed human beings, I panicked. Maybe I “settled” after all. Because if we were both truly saved we should not be dealing with all these struggles (physical, spiritual, financial). The idolatry in my heart was unspoken but persistent, even as a woman who genuinely loves Christ. The hope that should have been squarely placed in Christ was placed in a “Christian marriage.” Marriage to a fellow believer was supposed to save me from struggle and the various trials that were not particularly appealing to my flesh. If I marry in Christ then I should never have to deal with a spouse who sins against me, or lacks wisdom or is prone to any kind of personal failings.

Thanks to a steady diet of ‘Christian media’ that elevated relationships to the same level  as salvation in Christ, I was trusting in my marriage to save me from the tribulations that Christ himself promised that we will have in this world. The first time we experienced our first significant hardship in marriage, I was convinced it was because we were not good Christians. True Christian marriages did not endure these types of heartbreak, did they?

The unfortunate reality about idolatry is that not only is the object of our worship unworthy of our adulation, it is also inadequate to extend to us the amazing grace of a merciful God. Had I made Christ the object of adulation from the jump rather than equating Him with my marriage, I would have quickly discovered the grace that I did not previously extend to myself or my husband.

I thank God for His course correction in our lives. It did not take long for me to see the difference between placing my hope in Christ versus placing it in my marital status or my union to a believer. The weight of my idolatry would have crushed us both into dust but for the intervention of the Holy Spirit who opened my eyes to the truth. The disappointment I was dealing with in my marriage was because I had placed my hope in the wrong thing. I thought being married to a believer, praying, speaking in tongues, preaching the gospel and even raising godly children would insulate me from the challenges that faced other marriages. But I was trying to bypass the growth in my character that can only be worked while I am in an imperfect union with an imperfect husband, yet fully committed to serving the God of all perfection.

There is nothing wrong with desiring a marriage that looks like Christ from all points, and even checks the boxes of your personal preferences – but I am a big proponent in examining one’s motives at every point. Why do we want what we want? Are we more committed to our preferences than we are committed to trusting the God who knows us better than we know ourselves? If we are not careful, even our once-godly desires can begin to unseat Christ at the throne of our hearts. And that is the very definition of idolatry. Take it from someone with firsthand experience – a church girl.

life

God Alone

Omowunmi

I have always thought that being a believer in Christ meant that no matter what happened on this side of eternity, I would eventually prevail and have a testimony of how I overcame. I believed that trials and tribulations would come but by God’s grace, I would conquer them and be able to testify of God’s goodness in allowing me to come through on the other side. I still largely believe this. There is a level of victory reserved for those whose steps are being ordered by the God of Heaven. Nobody can convince me otherwise. Lately, however, my theology has gotten more refined. I am being persuaded now more than ever than the testimonies of God’s goodness can come even in the midst of the storms, even if my ship wrecks on a deserted island, and even if the rescue helicopter never comes. I hate to paint such a morbid picture but just bear with me.

In the middle of the most intense warfare I have faced in recent memory, I recognize that my testimony is not on the other side of this mountain. My testimony is right here. The fact that God allowed the panic attack I suffered in February to lead me to a licensed therapist and counselor is a miracle. By all measures, the first strike of this ordeal could have been the killing blow. For a woman who thrives on routine and normalcy, this level of shaking in my  life should have been my undoing. But surprisingly, it drove me deeper into my quest for deliverance. The fact that God is allowing me to uncover, uproot and vanquish the paralyzing fear I had carried for almost 36 years is nothing short of a deep expression of His mercy towards me. Had my life not been shaken in this way, I very well could have lived with this kind of fear for the rest of my life, allowing it to lay dormant as long as it is not triggered. Being delivered for real and forever is a testimony in itself and I cannot wait until I can finally say that fear does not have me, in any way shape or form.

Furthermore, the timing of this particular shaking is running side by side with my efforts to fully embrace my passions and gifts. My desire to write and publish is a passion that I had relegated to “hobby” status for so long that deciding to make this my full-time work  is a radical step of faith. Having my sense of normalcy uprooted by virtue of this attack seems particularly ironic when you consider the fact that I was already looking for a new normal. I was closing my decade-old practice to pursue outside employment. And I was determined to use my prospective salary to fund my dreams. Eleven months after I revamped my blog, nine months into my new line of work, and two weeks after a new door was opened for me, fear came knocking with the force of a thousand winds. It seemed even if I wanted things to remain exactly as they had been, the option was no longer on the table.

Again for someone who hates change of any kind (moving, employment changes, major purchases, you name it), having the doors shut so firmly behind me before I knew where to walk next filled me with a different kind of dread. But for the first time in a long time, the fear of change was nothing compared to the fear of staying the same and hating my life for another second more.

So, in the middle of what I will call the worst moments of my life so far, I am still experiencing an exuberant amount of breakthrough. The comfort-seeker in me would love for the battle to be over and the victory won already. The trigger would be over and my fearful response would be a moot point. I can’t be afraid if there is no longer anything to be afraid of. But as a woman of faith, I know that this is not always how life works. So, in confronting my fears I have had to face the question “what would happen if the worst were to happen?” And I realize that the answer, terrifying as it may be for my mind to comprehend, is also strangely comforting.

If my life loses all sense of what it was just a year before.

If everything I am desperately fighting for blows up in my face.

If I have to eat the consequences of not just my behavior but the wrongdoing of others…God will still be God.

He will still hold all power in His hands. He will still have absolute control over my life and the direction it takes. He will still be the Alpha and Omega – the beginning and the end – of all my life, situations and circumstances. He will still be the God who makes a way where there seems to be no way. He will still be the God who vindicates. He will still be the God who only does wondrous things. He will still be the God who gives beauty for ashes. He will still be the God who turns mourning into dancing. He will still be the God who causes those who sow in tears to reap in joy. He will still be the God who sees in secret and rewards openly. In short, even if my life blows up right now – God will still be God. Even if the victory I long to see is only reserved for the other side of eternity, my present suffering take absolutely nothing away from the character of God. And that alone is more comfort to me than simply having God remove the challenges I am presently facing.

He is God alone and He alone is God. And that is enough.

Uncategorized

Where Nothing Grows

Omowunmi

A preacher said something this week that stuck with me (link to the sermon will be on the bottom of the page). She said, there were areas of our lives where we have removed our expectation (faith) for God to do anything. These are the barren lands we do not even pray about because we have resigned ourselves to a future that looks no different from the present and the past. This is the place where nothing grows – not faith, not hope, not joy, not miracles, signs or wonders.

Nothing.

For me, it would the areas of my life where I would say things such as “it is what it is.” And resign myself to the fact that nothing can ever change about it. It is easier for me to embrace a reality that looks bleak, and make peace with the fact that this is what my life is going to look like, than to continue to hope for more and be disappointed over and over again. I can handle the sameness of never having more. I do not do well with raised expectations only to have them repeatedly shattered.

A decade into dating, my relationships were the “footpaths” in my life – the place that was once fertile ground but had been trampled so often by others than nothing could grow anymore. My outlook on relationships was damaged. I no longer prayed about them. I was convinced that God was not interested in my relationships anyway. He had bigger fish to fry. So, if I wanted to get married, it was left up to me to figure out the best option and just go from there. After God healed my understanding of relationships and I did eventually marry, the footpath changed.

It was no longer relationships;  it was my career. I had prayed and fasted about my career for many years without seeing a change. After almost ten years of believing for more, only to end up with less than I had in the years before, I once again concluded that God did not care about my career. He cared if I was a good wife, mother, friend and disciple, but my career was mine to figure out. He had bigger fish to fry than whether or not I could get a job. So, I stopped praying about it.  I removed my expectation that I could ever have the professional success that I saw my colleagues enjoy. It was not in the cards for me. Years of applying, and being rejected, feeling overlooked, and inadequate had me convinced that “this is just what it is.” I was destined to be one of those women who did not work because she could not find a good job. God used my husband to heal that fear of failure and success for me. Before long, seeds began to germinate and grow in that area as well.

Then the footpath changed again.

The most recent footpath I have discovered in my life is anxiety or worry. For as long as I can remember, I have always been the “worrier.” I plan things to worry about for the future. My mind is never not working and thinking and calculating and making readjustments. Caring for two toddlers with ongoing appointments for school, doctors, dentists, extra-curricular activities and so forth means there is always something to “not forget.” Managing our household schedule, budget, finances, vacations, doctors appointments, after-school care plans and such means that my wheels are always turning. If I do not keep the machine that is the Odedere Household moving along, it could all come crashing down in disaster. There is always something to think (or worry) about. Because of the mental load of thinking for myself, my sons and my husband a majority of the time, worry and anxiety became the norm. As I solved one thing, my mind would move on to the next concern. On and on like that until everything had a solution. If there was no solution in sight, then concern became worry, worry grew to anxiety and the anxiety became a paralyzing fear that made each of my limbs feel like they weighed a ton. When that fear becomes a behemoth (larger than life), I would run to prayer. I would cry out to God for relief since all of my own efforts had failed me. Even as I prayed about it, I would worry. Would God really take care of it? What if this was one of those times where He wanted something awful to happen to me so I could grow from it? (This is bad theology by the way.)

I have operated with this kind of fear and anxiety for all of my walk with Christ. I figured “this is just my personality/I am just a worrier.” I have never expected anything to change about how I operated in the world. I am just naturally anxious. God made me that way, did He not? I did not recognize this paralyzing fear as a footpath until the panic attack that happened in February.

Since then, God has been challenging my default settings as a worrier. It turns out that my fear is not just “how things are.” It was an area I had allowed the enemy to infiltrate and take over because I had never thought to pray against fear (fear of failure, fear of success, fear of the unknown). I thought fear was a human response and there was nothing  to be done about it other than just to ride the waves and hope the feeling passes sooner rather than later. I was fully prepared to live the entirety of my life being afraid (or worried) about one thing or another.

It is what it is, right? This is just how I operated.

Until God started showing me that this is a footpath. Fear had me in a stronghold for so many decades, it has taken me this long to realize that I was not always afraid. Up until a certain point in my life, I was actually pretty bold and fearless. And even in my faith in Christ, I am bold in so many other ways especially when it comes to the situations of others. But when I am the one that is under attack, instead of faith rising as it does on behalf of others, fear is my first response.

But God is changing my life in real time. As we speak, seeds of faith that have been sown on this particular “footpath” are beginning to germinate. This is no longer barren land where the enemy can introduce any thought or situation and cause me to fly off the handle. My faith is growing by leaps and bounds, and for the first time in my thirty-six years, I am fully convinced that fear does not have to be my default response to the arrows of the enemy.

When attacks are mounted, more and more, I see myself rising up filled with righteous indignation, inspired by the Holy Spirit and fighting-mad at the enemy of my soul that he would dare raise up such an underhanded “sneak attack” against a child of God. What an insult to the Heavenly Father who goes before me and girds me all around!

Literally, satan how dare you?

As I continue my walk with God, I know He will continue to show me the “footpaths” or  patches of wilderness in and around my life, the places where I have wrongly concluded that God cannot touch or change. I look forward to the day when my entire life is the lush garden that my Creator has in mind, each flowering field yielding fruit by the tens, fifties and hundred.

I look forward to the day when there would be no such place in my life where nothing grows.

(Sermon Series: Crazy Faith Part 5- Daily Faith – Brie Davis – Transformation Church) – Get it here!

 

life

From Breakdown to Breakthrough -Through The Fire Part 2

Omowunmi

Disclaimer: Before you read Part Two of this journey, it might be helpful to go back and read Part One. Read Part 1 Here

In February, I was faced with a setback so fierce it felt like it would actually consume the life I have come to know for the last twelve years. The fear of the unknown was paralyzing as I imagined the worst outcome – shame, professional loss, lack and poverty. I imagined everyone who had known me for the last two decades shaking their heads at my misery, wondering how I descended to such a shameful low point. I had completely expected the situation to swallow me whole. The panic attack that ensued was the catalyst I needed to seek professional counseling.

I took myself to a therapist to begin to unpack the unnatural terror I had about the unknown future. Four months after my first session, I am here to report that I am currently in one of the best seasons of my life. The situation and circumstance that I thought would be my undoing has actually been used by God to allow me to win my battle against fear. Fear has dominated my life in one way or the other for as long as I could remember. Fears of failure and success made it hard for me to see the kind of progress I have always desired. But the most pressing fear in this situation was the fear of the unknown. I do not like surprises. Even good things, when they are unplanned, rock me to my center. Knowing that I could not predict the outcome of what was a threat against my very livelihood and future shook the foundations under my feet.

But thanks be to God that he did not leave me the quivering mass of anxiety that first walked into my therapist’s office in May. Over the last several months, God has shown me that my fear was based on a lie. The lie told me that my life would only be “okay” if this situation went away. If the threat manifested into my new reality, then there was no way for the plans of God over my life to prosper.

But what an insult to the power and might of God!

I had wrongly concluded that not even God could undo the damage to my life if the circumstances that were still a threat, became a fact. I had let fear swallow up my faith and it resulted in a woman who looked nothing like the warrior princess I have been growing into over the last decade.  The process to breakthrough was not in God changing the situation that frightened me, but in Him growing my faith and changing my mind. Through this particular trial, I have been able to see that God is not dependent on human beings if He is determined to bless me. In the midst of what should have been the hardest season of my life, I find myself thriving like I have never done before. I found the pace of grace in my work and it is being rewarded by my bosses. I leaned into the grace of God which allows me to work in excellence for someone besides myself, without letting my children or household suffer. I am the healthiest I have ever been, emotionally and spiritually, because this situation spurred me into getting the help I needed for things that have been a struggle for as long as I have been an adult, some even longer. It seems that God is causing ALL things to work together for my good by using the very storm that  I thought was going to drown me, to move me ever closer to His promised future.

And isn’t that just like God? To use the very thing that the enemy meant for evil, something that has caused others to end their lives or retreat from living all together, to promote His own children to their next level. By no means do I believe that this attack came from God. It was sent as a strategic weapon of the enemy to take me out – to make me doubt my abilities and give up on every long held desire of my heart. The enemy definitely meant to destroy me. If the enemy had his way, I would be living in the eye of depression as we speak. I would have retreated from life, quit my job, abandoned my relationships and spent my days buried under my covers in tears. I did it for a few days earlier this year. It would have been very easy to just stay down. You cannot get knocked over if you do not stand up again.  But God had better plans for me than that. He has declared that I would live and not die, but rather declare the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. So here I am, thriving. Because I am finally learning to rest in the promises of God. Because I finally understand that when God has determined to do us good, He will not ask permission from our circumstances before his desires for us are accomplished. The situation that spurred my first panic attack in over a decade is still ongoing. But in the midst of it, I have had the deepest kind of joy I have ever experienced in my adult life. I am experiencing a new level of authenticity in my marriage and friendships. I am more sure of my abilities in my career. And I have a greater understanding of who I am and why I move through life this particular way.

Because of that richer understanding, I have more to say when it comes to speaking intelligently about my journey. I am able to write about my journey in an authentic way that is brimming over with God-given joy. Life is still not perfect but at this point, I have more testimonies of God’s goodness over my life than I have ever had at any point before.

Without the threat of failure and the fear of unknown danger that presented itself in my life in February, I would probably be coasting along, the same version of me that I was when the year started. There would have been no motivation to examine why this fear almost paralyzed me and subsequently, I likely would have lived with this unknown fear for the next several years never realizing that it was unnatural and destructive to the plans of God for my life.

So, I am finally at a point in my life where I can say, I am incredibly grateful for the storm. I am thankful for the fiery furnace. The storm did not drown me and the fire did not consume me. The waters washed away more than just the unnecessary material things that I thought I needed; it also cleansed my vision to see clearly. The fire did not just burn away the security of a life where nothing changes so nothing grows; it also purified the gold that was within me; melting away impurities such as fear and self-reliance until all that is left is a faith that has been tried by fire.

Exactly seven months and five days after the enemy’s attack, I am happy to report that I am walking in breakthrough. Fear no longer has me.

I, Omowunmi, have escaped like a bird out of the hunter’s trap of fear and failure. The trap has been broken forever and ever, and I am free! (Psalm 124:7)

Uncategorized

The Weight of Rejection

Omowunmi

I did not always have a fear of not being loved or accepted. Even when I was ten years old and classmates were calling me ugly for my dark skin and making fun of my accent, I took it all in stride because my weekends were filled with other Nigerian kids who looked and sounded like me. And they made room for me in their hearts. I was accepted and loved, even if it was not at school.

No, rejection did not become a fear that could deter me from reaching out to others until my first instance of abuse. I knew my way of looking at the world shifted at the age of eleven, but I did not realize that the trauma had changed my very personality and would not let me go for the next two decades of my life. Although trauma kept me quiet as a child and a teenager, I knew that I was too “broken” to be loved fully. I began hiding key aspects of myself from the people who loved me. They could have the acceptable parts of me. I was more than willing to show them my sense of humor, my love for cooking and even my creativity with words. But the parts of me that had been informed by trauma – my overwhelming sense of inadequacy, my secret competition with any other woman who had the audacity to be prettier, my jealousy of anyone who had what i didn’t – those things had to stay well-hidden. Behind the bravado and the constant boasting of how well life was treating me, I trembled with fear that anyone who see the “real” me.

When a long time friend told me that what she heard about me made it impossible for us to continue to be friends, my worst fear was realized. To be fully known was to be instantly rejected. I never knew what she heard that left such an impression but from then on my guard went higher. Eventually as I came to Christ, I learned to find my worth in what God says I am rather than the opinion of men. But I did not realize that I was still allowing my traumas to dictate my response to others. Even as I made the effort to cultivate authentic relationships with others (especially other women), my response when people do not accept the friendship I offer has always been over the top.

When someone rejected me, i would simply pivot. I was able to accept that God had a plan for me that did not include whoever was not willing to play a role in my life. The initial rejection always stung but I could move past it by reminding myself that I had plenty of others who saw my worth.  I took comfort in the unwavering presence of God in my life and invested my energy into deepening the relationships I already had. But I did not realize that I was only able to pivot away from new people. I had no tools to deal with the rejection of those that once loved me.

The second time a friend rejected me rocked my foundations. After six years and hundreds of hours invested in our sisterhood, the words “everyone warned me about you and I should have listened” brought all the trauma I had accumulated over twenty-eight years to a head. Here was more proof that to be fully known was to be ultimately rejected. It took everything in me not to go back to the comfort of hypocrisy – if I did not let anyone see the real me then the only thing they had to reject was a persona. I was free to be my messiest self behind closed doors. But hypocrisy had served me badly before I came to Christ and I remembered the pain of trying to live two lives. I could not go back.

Rejection seems to rear its head in two consistent area of my life. I am either afraid to follow a passion that I know God has given me because someone I trusted rejected my gift. Or I am afraid to open up to people I love because someone I loved pushed me away for being vulnerable. I am only just now realizing how heavy the weight of rejection has been over me. Rejection kept me from going back into the workforce for ten years. Rejection kept me from owning the stories and books I wrote because I decided it was safer to print them without my name on it. Rejection kept me from re-embracing the people that have broken my heart because the risk of being pushed away was higher with someone who had already done it before. Rejection kept me from asking my husband for help because him saying no would be confirmation that I was not deserving of his help. Rejection keeps me from seeking certain connections with other women because it is constantly whispering that I am not good enough for them.

Rejection and the fear of it is a thief and a liar. Even as I unpack my journey with a licensed therapist, I am committed to not allowing rejection to steal any more than it has from me and I pray the same for you as well. In anyway that the weight of rejection has been leaning on your relationships and your view of yourself, may Christ be the healing and difference-maker in your situation. And it is okay to have Jesus and a therapist. I highly recommend both.

Till we meet again.

A Nigerian who found beauty (and acceptance) in Christ.

 

 

 

Uncategorized

Why Did You Get Married?

Omowunmi

I have told this story many times but I cannot tell it enough because that is how much it changed me. I was having the hardest summer of my life, newly traumatized by a sudden lack of financial security, and interestingly enough, planning our wedding. I went into a meeting with my pastors about our upcoming wedding and was gently advised that marriage should not be entered into while financial insecurity was looming. It was good advice. But for someone who had been trying and failing to find a job for five years at the time, it was another reminder that my life was on hold until I had enough money.

I went into my car and cried my eyes out.

A good question for anyone to ask me at that time would be “why are you getting married when you don’t have a stable job?” They would be well within their right but they also would have poked a sleeping bear in my life. Career and finances were a sour spot for me. And anyone implying that I could not move on in any other area of my life because I lacked the finances would have broken my heart and earned my ire.

But let’s pretend for a minute that someone did ask me that imaginary question.

“Omowunmi, why did you get married when so many things about your life were still up in the air?”

I got married because it was time for me to get married, not based on my biological clock or any external pressure but based on where I was emotionally, spiritually and relationship-wise. My hubby and I did some really deep work on our relationship, from learning to communicate with one another, to discussing and making peace with our respective pasts, to learning to function as a partnership. We were ready. There was no benefit to our relationship by delaying our marriage; if anything it would have increased the temptation that was always a consideration for any couple that valued purity. We got married because we were both confident that God wanted us to. We got married because our maturity dictated it – we were both fully committed to making each other better and there was no higher calling to serve one another than in marriage. We got married because we were already best friends. We got married because my husband was ready to be a provider even if he did not have all the material trappings of success. We got married because I was ready to answer the call to submit to my husband’s God-given leadership. We got married because we were ready to build a legacy for our future family. We got married because we were tired of going home to separate homes at the end of each date. We got married because neither of us had ever meshed so well with any other person before; even our differences complemented each other perfectly.

And lastly, we got married because we wanted to honor God.

Financial security is an important part of marriage and I am not going to pretend that it is not. But it is not the only consideration. Being rich, comfortable or lucrative is not the underlying determinant of a successful marriage. If it were, teenage newlyweds would always end up divorce and millionaires never would. For me, marriage cannot be divorced (pun intended) from purpose. I got married because it was part and parcel of God’s purpose for my life. Right before our wedding I told someone that all of the increase and expansion that God wants me to have will be realized in the midst of my marriage, not prior to it. I had 29 years and 9 months as a single woman and although I did a lot in that time, the plan is to spend more years being married than I did being single. All the future achievements I intend to have by God’s grace are intricately tied to my position as my husband’s wife. There are certain things I want to do for him; there are certain things I want to do for me but cannot accomplish without him; and there are still other things that have to be done by us.

I got married because my husband needs the favor I carry and I need the covering he provides.

Not because my finances were perfectly in order.

Not because our lives were perfect.

Not because I no longer had any issues to work through (more on that in another post on another day – it is okay to get married before you reach the pinnacle of wholeness; as long as you have began the work and started the journey, it can still be perfected in your union).

I got married according to God’s will for my life. And honestly, I would not have it any other way.

Uncategorized

It’s Not You, Sis. It’s Me!

Omowunmi

A few weeks ago, I told my counselor that I wanted to unpack my apprehension around professional women of my age. I have long-standing relationships with women of all professions and caliber. I am honored to be connected to the sisters who make up my tribe. But when it comes to new friendships, if I am making connections in a work environment, my guard goes up. I am open to women in church, at my children’s school, through family friends and virtually everywhere else I can meet new faces, but when it comes to women in my same career field or a similar professional track, I have virtually no work friends. There are no other women attorneys in my life that I go to outside of the ones who have been with me since we started our first study group together in law school. I wanted to know why I have no work friends. I had an inkling of a reason but needed confirmation.

This week I have gotten to the root of my lack of professional connections and interestingly enough, it ties back to the fear of failure that kept me stuck professionally for so many years. I do not make new female attorney/professional friends because I do not think I have anything to offer them. For years, I was fearlessly pursuing my dreams and eager to connect with women who were doing the same. I suffered my first real “fail” in and regarding law school and unbeknownst to me, the failure traumatized me. It was the first time I felt like I could not do something I genuinely gave my best efforts towards. “Oh! I’m not as smart as I thought” came the notion, and every seeming failure since then has been a confirmation of my worst nightmare. I have been carrying a deep sense of inadequacy when it came to career and that weight kept me from connecting with others. In my eyes, professional women who were in my age group and other similar demographics were better than me because they took the same set of circumstances as mine and created success for themselves while I continued to struggle. Every affluent, professional, black woman was out of my league. I had nothing to give them. They were smarter than me, had more money than me and probably knew more about their field than I could know about mine. If I opened myself up to them, they would discover what a failure I was with my lack of income and lack of achievements and likely move on any way. It was better for me to keep everyone at arms length than risk their rejection when they discovered how little I had to offer. I have always known that young professional women scared me, but until today I could not pinpoint why.

Nowhere is this more clear than with my mentoring relationships. Women I have watched over and discipled since they were in middle school and high school are now thriving professionals in their twenties and whenever I glimpse their lives I am always filled with a mixture of pride and sadness. Pride at all they have achieved even if my contribution was limited to being a listening ear, a big sister and letter of recommendation for college. Sadness that at my thirty-six years of age, I had no connections or resources to which I could add to their life to benefit them as young professionals climbing their various ladders of success. It made me sad that I was only a benefit to them for that short window and could not be a resource now because in my own eyes, my professional life had not measured up to much.

I did not realize that I had measured myself against my peers, professional women I admire from afar who were thriving in their various field, and found myself unworthy of their friendship. What if I opened my life up to them and they realized how little I knew (I’m not as smart as I once thought, remember)? What if I invited them to my home and they saw how meager we were living compared to their multiple six-figures? What if they figured out I was a fraud who was only pretending to know what she was doing in this field (imposter syndrome in overdrive)? I was actually afraid to make friends within my professional circle because I was deathly afraid of rejection and embarrassment.

Once again, I divided my abilities between my career and everything else. In any other aspect of my life, I fully acknowledge that I am an empathetic and compassionate friend. I show up for my friends as often as possible and I give the best of me to the people I care about. I know that God has given me enough personality, wisdom and compassion to be a blessing to as many as He will lead my way and I derive deep and genuine joy from making authentic connections. But for some reason when it came to professional connections, I was convinced that I had nothing to offer anyone. If it sounds crazy to you, it is because it is. And if it sounds familiar because this is how you operate as well, then pull up a chair and let’s work through this thing together.

I am finally ready to admit to any woman who has known me for years in a professional capacity but with whom I have always “kept it cute and kept it moving,” never escalating our acquaintanceship beyond the few laughs we share between courtroom sessions or networking events – it is not you, sis. It is me. I was afraid I was not good enough for you. I was afraid that you would laugh at me if you truly knew my situation. I was afraid you would deem me as unworthy as I felt. I was afraid that you would talk about me because I did not have this or could not afford that. And I was jealous. Because you had lawyers in your family to guide you and I had to figure this thing out by myself. Because you got the LSAT score for a scholarship and I was drowning in debt. Because you got hired right out of law school and the last 12 years have felt like I am not good enough for a seat at anyone’s table. Because your life seems so much better on paper than mine. I was afraid. I was jealous and I projected all of my insecurities on you without even bothering to learn your story.

It was not you. It was me.

But I am working through my insecurities. I have pinpointed the lies I once believed and I am dismantling them brick by brick, session by session. I am ready to connect now, if you will still have me. Pull up a chair, sis. Let’s talk this through.

Uncategorized

Getting Back To Joy

Omowunmi

Have you ever been in a really good place in life? Relationships flourishing, home life thriving and your chosen field of work giving you a relative sense of accomplishment? Then all of a sudden a quiet dread settles in the pit of your stomach? It could be prompted by nothing in particular but suddenly you cannot shake the feeling that something horrifying is soon to come? If you relate to this feeling then you have an idea what the bulk of my adult life (post-grad) has felt like. I have had incredibly fulfilling seasons of life but in the back of my mind – even in those moments of deep joy – is a thought/fear that immediately fills me with dread. I do not have words to explain it yet, but the best way I can describe it is this feeling of “I am running out of time/I’m gonna die doing this/I am never gonna make it out.”

It is terrifying and all-consuming. I have not always felt like this but the earliest I can pinpoint the feeling was my time in law school (circa 2004-2007). Over the years, I have tried to push the feeling aside by striving for excellence. When I am achieving and crushing my goals, all is well. But as soon as I start cruising, or things begin to take a downward turn, the feeling returns. “You life is passing you by while you do nothing. You are never gonna reach (insert any goal) like this. Look at everyone your age who has already passed you by.” And just like that my heart will begin racing and the feeling of doom and dread returns. I often felt this as a single woman thinking about my prospects for marriage. But the most pressing area of my life where these thoughts assault me has been my career. Year after year, I would struggle to find my footing and year after year it felt like I had lost more ground while trying desperately to make a living. Another year in the red and the voice gets louder. “Your life is passing you by while you do nothing.” Another year of working without benefits or retirement savings. “You’re never going to be debt-free like this. You’re going to die owing everybody.”

Getting married and having children was an opportunity to pivot away from what was failing and invest in what I knew I could do well. I poured my all into my family, hoping and praying that it would be enough; but every time I had to confront what I wanted to do with my career or how I could help support my family’s finances, the thoughts returned. “You’ve lost too much ground. There are so many people more equipped than you for this field. You are never going to make a living doing this work.” To avoid the dread, I stuffed my career into the furthest corner of my life and focused on what brought me joy. The people I love, my marriage, writing and ministering to others. If you measured me by everything else, excluding my career, I was living the life of my dreams.

I could only live that chopped in half life for so long before I realized that I had to do something to get my joy back. The first step of that process was my husband challenging me to step out of my comfort zone. The second step was taking a job I was terrified to do. The next step after that has been showing up every day to begin crafting a new beginning for myself. I am in the midst of getting back to joy. I wake up each day grateful for an opportunity to earn and add value. When it takes me twelve hours to achieve an eight-hour work day, I applaud myself for sticking with it instead of lamenting my lack of productivity. When I get constructive feedback from my higher ups, I make a note to be grateful for the opportunity to grow instead of beating myself for not being perfect at my job after only one year in a new field. I save $20 every pay period into one account, and save all the cash I have on hand into another account. I opened a retirement savings account and started a rainy-day fund. It may not be a million dollars, but it is better than nothing and the small steps in the right direction encourage me to keep going.

While working from home full-time and watching my children (side bar – I took them out of childcare for the summer in hopes of finding a summer camp but honestly, my children are at their happiest when they are getting ample time with mom and dad), I have come to realize that my workday does not look like anyone else’s. I hope for nine to five but between making meals, fixing snacks, wiping tears and breaking up fights – it can be anything from 10 to 6 or 12 to 8 and on really crazy days, 4 to 12. But here I am getting it done. My children are happy and thriving. My husband and I have time to invest in one another; and I can still give myself to the things that matter to me, like writing and supporting the women I love. I am getting back to joy. I am giving myself permission to have deep, soul-lifting joy that permeates every aspect of my life – rather than limiting my happiness to the things that are going according to plan.

My house is still a wreck more often than not. I clean it as my schedule allows but I have learned to grace myself when dishes pile up and toys are all over the place. It does not always get done immediately. My house looks more like a home with toddlers than a showroom but I have learned to embrace it. I no longer compare myself to my friends with pristine homes and young children. What works for them wouldn’t work for me and vice versa. I’m graced to live this life and no one else’s. Self-care means seeing a therapist every 3-4 weeks, getting my eyebrows waxed and a pedicure every 2-3 weeks, and saying “no” when people ask for favors that give me anxiety.

I am learning to respectfully voice my concerns rather than stuffing my feelings until I explode. I am drawing boundaries between relationships that require everything I have to give and associations that are for the time being or for convenience sake. I am getting back to joy. Prioritizing joy means shifting my work schedule one hour later so my kids can visit their grandparents and have ice-cream. Life is far from perfect, but it does not need to be perfect for me to find the joy in today. After so many years of sacrificing my joy because I was not successful enough, rich enough, married enough (singleness was an adventure), it is an honor to be getting back to joy.

How are you getting back to (or staying in) your own joy?

(Share with me in the comments! I would love to hear from you)