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If you have read my last blog post [Grace] Under Fire then you know that my life is in transition. This is a big one too. But today, after about a month of feeling like I was trying to walk in quicksand, everything came together. I got caught up on my chores around the house, our home is finally clean, we have something to eat (thanks, Mom), and my oldest is all caught up on distance learning. Having some semblance of normalcy gave me time to think and get off this hamster wheel of perpetually trying to find my feet. I am on solid ground now. I am good.

One of the things I have been pondering today is the fact that this life I currently have cost me a lot just a few short years ago. Today, being able to see my dreams of writing my book to fulfillment still brings me great joy. Having a job that pays me well for my time and effort gives me great joy. Having a marriage that literally fills my love tank to overflowing brings me great joy. Having sisters who would drop everything when I need them is an honor. But these things did not just come over time. I had to “do” something.

Writing my book took hundreds of hours between the years 2018 and 2020. I was taking notes during podcasts, conversations, at work, and then sitting at my computer for hours at a time fleshing out these thoughts. And the effort gave birth to something beautiful. This 400-paged manuscript is a love letter of sacrifice and I will always be honored that it is mine to share with the world.

Before I got my current job, I had to heal from my fear of failure and success. It took six months of conquering my fears, and eleven months of submitting applications to secure this position. I have invested hundreds of hours with my employer to gain their trust and earn my place in the company. It took sacrifice and hard work but I am finally seeing a semblance of career satisfaction. This job literally gives me the financial ability to pursue my dreams.

My marriage is enjoying one of our sweetest seasons ever. But we didn’t just arrive here suddenly. This was not a matter of time. This was a matter of investment. Four years ago, I invested eight months into marriage mentoring through Good Thing 101 by Wives in Waiting. My marriage is STILL reaping the reward of the work, lessons, and in-pouring I encountered in the program, and I keep the lessons on the forefront of my mind in my daily interactions with my husband. I recently took on the Respect Dare through Good Thing (as a leader this time), and even that little tune-up has brought new joy into our marriage and friendship as husband and wife. Four years ago, my joy in marriage was disappearing and mentorship literally turned the whole ship around for us. It took time, investment, intentionality and prayer but we are on solid ground today.

I prayed and cried out to God to prune me and make me a better friend than I had been in the past, and to give me women/sisters who would love me and accept me. God did the pruning and I saw the fruit of it. The friendships and sisterhood I enjoy now were a direct result of God teaching me how to be the type of friend I would desire. It took tears, prayer, listening, learning, forgiving and humbling myself to be ready for the gift of friendship. But the risk was more than worth the return I am enjoying today.

Today, I saw some publication from women and leaders whose work, life and ministries have impacted me for years. These women have been ministering and pouring out publicly for years at no cost. Recently, most of them have launched masterclasses and mentorship programs that require a fee or an investment. And I immediately had a thought. As much as I have benefited from these women and their free content and wisdom for years and decades, there is a reservoir in them that is strictly for those who will INVEST their money and substance to gain the wisdom and gold that these ministers carry. I fully expect that if I pay the fee/make the investment, the level of access I will have to these women’s insight would be deeper, richer and more transformative. It would be foolish of me to expect to grow to the same level from the free content as I would have if I had paid for mentorship or a masterclass. That is the very definition of trying to reap where you did not sow.

Every new level has a cost. Every single one of them. There is a cost for a better marriage, a deeper walk with Christ, more fulfilling personal relationships and even a top-notch career. And when I say cost, I am not talking about dollars. I am talking about sacrifice. We must sacrifice comfort for growth. We must sacrifice the familiar to conquer new territory. That is just the nature of the beast. Comfort zones are overrated. And when we get too comfortable, they transform from places of rest to places of bondage. The new joy in my marriage cost me a great deal of selfishness. I had to lay down my pride and my own will so that I could esteem my husband above my selfish tendencies. The new job costs me time and availability. I cannot just pick up and go as I feel like it (I still feel like I can because I am working from home but “home” does not mean available). I have to sacrifice my schedule and my desire to do whatever I want whenever I want for the sake of being an integral employee and a woman who honors my commitments.

Even my relationship with Christ cost Him his very life. Just because it was free to me does not mean it was cheap. Every good, godly, and worthy thing in this life has a cost. Some have been paid by heaven, others we must work out on earth. You cannot see the depths, heights, breadth and width of what God has for you by refusing to sacrifice.

From one sibling in Christ to another I advice you, pay the cost. You will not regret it. When you sacrifice for the sake of the Gospel, the return on your investment is out of this world.

I very briefly contemplated titling this post “Through The Fire Part 3” as a continuation of the journey of From Breakdown to Breakthrough -Through The Fire Part 2 but I quickly abandoned the thought because this is an entirely new journey. Bear with me as I take you through the adventure that is my life.

Over the last seven years (hello, marriage) I have noticed that before any significant breakthrough for my family, we encounter hell on earth. There have been unexpected crisis upon crisis at each turning point of our lives only for the clouds to suddenly lift and we find ourselves better off than we ever were before the bottom fell out of our world. I did not always recognize the cycle. The bliss of newlywed life had me temporarily unable to spot a pattern. We were still trying to find a new normal after all. But in the last couple of years, I have been very intentional about paying attention to what is going on with us. If you read my post from last month, I wrote that post after one of the most personally productive and fulfilling eight month stretch of my life and exactly one month after one of our family’s biggest win. It is not even a full month later and I am already updating you about being “under fire.” Coincidence? Only if you believe in them.

I serve a very intentional God and I also happen to agitate a very calculating enemy, as old as the fall of man. My family and I have been flourishing despite the pandemic and I pray God’s continued grace over us. But the last two weeks of our lives were completed upended. We lost our normalcy, our sense of well-being, and the ability to plan for our foreseeable future. It is literally the 100th or so transition for us as a family. Something is always changing for us, and as soon as we establish a new normal, everything is thrown into a blender and blown to bits again. I have come to expect the unexpected and I have gotten quite good at it if I do say so myself. I have become something of an expert at establishing a consistent home life for our family even when the changes happening around us are moving at a million miles per hour. But even THIS current pivot took me completely by surprise. We are looking at three major life transitions before the year ends, all happening simultaneously. I should be reeling from the force of impact (and last week I was). Just today, I had my first GOOD cry about all the changes and the loss in stability that was in the works for us for the next several weeks and months.

But after my good cry, and about two hours of check-ins, texts and conversations with my village of sisters, I had an epiphany. Every time God elevates my family, it is preceded by the worst kind of warfare, destabilization or crisis. The elevation is never one we know was coming and we never realize what our heartbreaking time of wilderness ushered us into until we are actually walking in it. It happened before we became homeowners, it happened before every major pivot we have had as a family, and it happened again before my promotion and before I successfully published my book. It definitely happened before I took the leap to close my practice and follow God’s voice in the direction of my dreams (hello, panic attack. You guys remember that , right?). Every victory has been preceded by a battle we never anticipated fighting.

So I am sitting here, in the midst of one of the most life-altering experiences of my life, living in a peace I cannot really explain. I have no clue how the other side of this valley looks for my family. We are going to be living life moment by moment and day by day – unable to make long term plans for probably a few more weeks, maybe months. But I am deeply assured that God is orchestrating this time to bring me to a “promised land” I did not know was even available for me and my household. He did it three years ago when He brought us to our “Rehobeth” after seven transitions in one year. He is faithful to do more than I can ask, think or imagine in this situation as well.

In the meantime, I intend to pull on my history with God. The goal of this time is not just survival. It is to live gracefully. Full of grace, abounding in grace, rich in the grace of God. Because it is available for me. God’s grace is the ointment that soothes every smarting sting of loss. Grace is the oil that keeps the machine of my life operating at full capacity. So in this place of yet another “wilderness” experience, my goal is to see God with fresh eyes; rediscover just how deep, wide, tall and vast His wealth of grace towards me happens to be. God has proven Himself to be exactly who He said He was and is. And because of that, I am more than convinced that I can prosper in anything – even under fire.

Lately, I have been thinking about my therapist. I have not seen her in over 8 months but I would love a “tune up” just to check in. I thought about the work we did in our 7 months together and I know that much of the progress I have made in 2020 is due in large part to our time together in 2019 and beyond. I thought about the panic attacks that sent me running for her office for the first time in May of 2019. I still get a little nervous about those waves of overpowering emotion that makes it seem like I will never know peace again. I sometimes wonder if remembering them would trigger another such attack. But I wave away the worry and re-center my thoughts on the progress, and the incredible things God has done to meet me in my darkest hours.

I think about how excited and focused I was at the beginning of the year. Work was flourishing. I finished my book. I had big plans for the rest of the year 2020. My last project wrapped in April. The work promised for June and beyond has yet to materialize but I am here still. I have grown by leaps and bounds in my creative ability. I cherish the flash of inspiration and the continued discipline that motivates me to engage with my audience daily. But a part of me worries about the stall in my income. Again, I have to continue the work to silence the voice echoed by various sources doing their best to convince me that I am not a good (enough) woman (wife, mother, person) if there is no paycheck coming in my name. I have to repeatedly give myself permission to be in this in-between stage of willing to work but not yet working. I have to keep reminding myself that the primary opinion I should be weighing along with my own lives in this house with me. And based on our numerous check-ins, we are in a really sweet spot. Yet, the voices of self-doubt try to convince me that my value has dwindled since my main stream of income has dropped. The work continues to shut those invisible critics up for good.

Over the last few months, I have developed into my most creative version of me. Unapologetically so, too. I launched a podcast on a whim and I have passed the ten episode milestone. I began documenting my day to day looks in photos on Instagram. I created a growing community of like-minded women to have transparent conversations and chats with me online. And I am having an amazing time doing it all. I no longer give any credence to the voice that loves to tell me that I am “doing too much” for enjoying beautiful creations – myself included. While the world has been slowed down, shut down and “safer at home” – I have found new aspects of my creativity to love. It has been such an adventure.

Additionally, I am finally reconciling with the fact that being thrown into teaching my children while working from home full time and running a home as the primary caregiver gave me some form of PTSD. It was utterly demoralizing to witness how quickly life went off the rails for us as I attempted to do worthy work, parent, homeschool and give adequate care all at the same time. The thought of diving back into distance learning this year was completely terrifying. Amazingly enough (it’s only day two so stay tuned), it has been a pleasant surprise and not the nightmare I was dreading. I think I have finally learned the language of grace with myself when it comes to my parenting. I am not in competition with any other mother. I am not even in competition with myself. I am simply going to make the best of each day (or moment). Yesterday may be outstanding while today is a dumpster fire. Neither one takes anything away from what God has deposited in me for the benefit of my family.

I am really grateful for my growth as a minister of the gospel. Even admitting that I am a minister of the gospel is growth. Years ago, I would have shied away from that language because I would have called it presumptuous since I am not ordained. But I have grown. Thanks largely to my training as a leader in Wives in Waiting, I have learned to exist in my identity without questioning it, attempting to dissect it, or quantifying it. I am what the Word of God says I am. I am grateful for the opportunity to study to show myself approved, and rightly divide the word of truth – both for my private growth and for public ministry. The privilege to teach other women what God has taught me never gets old.

By all accounts, life is good. My husband and I are experiencing what I would consider a time of flourishing in our friendship and union. I am grateful. The lessons and challenges of our first years of marriage have given birth to a steady love I cannot stop marveling at (nod to India Arie).

If you are still reading (bless you), let me wrap it up for you here. This year has been anything but predictable for the entire globe, but I can honestly say that God has shown Himself faithful to me in the last eight months. I am safe. I am well-loved. I have grown. I am better equipped than any of my years before. In short, I am flourishing. I pray you can say the same for you and yours.

I am living in a new kind of tension. For the first time in my life, I am closer to my dreams than ever before. When I was just dreaming of writing for a living, there was lots of time to make mistakes, to falter, to disappoint those that I love and find forgiveness. As I have found the courage and boldness to venture out with my gifts, there is a quiet fear brewing in my heart. What if I am still too flawed for this platform that I find myself growing?

Just the other day (thanks to the work I’ve done in therapy since May 2019), I recognized immediately when something that was said publicly triggered my feelings of inadequacy. I am healing, but I am still susceptible to some of my old wounds. The old whispers that I am not good enough to be loved, knowledgeable enough to teach others, or worthy enough to be on the forefront still try to silence my giftings as a teacher and a writer and a minister of the Gospel. My emotions still enter the dance when someone questions my relationship with God or my theological standing. I am learning to dissect who I am and what I do – I am not accepted by God because I teach Bible study or pray well in public. I am His and He is mine.

This new tension of living a private life of consecration while also obeying God when He asks me to step out onto deeper waters (by publishing a deeply personal book for example) has me re-examining myself every step of the way. The missteps that would have minimal fallout as one woman living a quiet life have a greater and wider impact now that I am a leader and teacher in public ministry, encouraging and helping other women find their own deliverance. I find myself oftentimes terrified of doing long-term harm. I do not want people to have a misunderstanding of Jesus Himself and the Gospel because of my own failure to handle either the scriptures or the people of God rightly.

My ability to “cancel” someone because I do not like their attitude, their behavior or their beliefs has been severely limited because when I want to turn my back on those who have turned their back on me, the thought “But you are a minister of the Gospel” convicts me immediately. What kind of minister am I if all it takes for me to no longer want any parts of someone’s humanity is a little offense? And why is my heart so inclined to be offended when God is literally calling me to a world that rejects Him daily? Who do I think I am to be offended when Jesus Himself was crucified for the ones He came to save?

This is a new kind of tension. Over the last seven years, the number of times I have thanked God privately and publicly for the luxury of making my mistakes in private is without number. A part of me feels like that season of being able to fail privately and have no public repercussions is coming to a swift end. And I know already that I am going to miss it.

I thank God for the growth that has allowed me to get to this place of leading publicly. I pray for the grace to grow in private so that whatever I give publicly comes from the overflow of my inner growth in Christ. I pray for myself (and every minister in public ministry) that I will never lose my fear of offending God by mishandling His people. I pray that I never see a public platform as something that belongs to me by merit. I pray that I always see the privilege in walking alongside women and sisters who are looking for freedom in Christ and seeking deeper fulfillment in their relationship with our heavenly Father. I pray that this never becomes common to me. I pray for the grace to carry this season well.

The tension for me is in my realization that my season of being behind the scenes may be coming to an end and although I am overjoyed at the opportunity to serve more women than ever before, I will definitely miss the luxury of living a life that did not affect anyone beyond the four walls of my home. I trust that the Jesus I have walked with since September 2009 has pruned me to bear much fruit and He has made me a planting of the Lord that others can eat from. I have no choice but to depend on Him for what comes next.

I lived the first ten years of my life where blackness was the norm. To be black was to be in the majority. Every millionaire, government official, and CEO I knew was black. Every last person in my world who was doing something worthwhile was black. Blackness was the norm. I knew my skin was a deep shade of brown and it deepened in the sun, but it did not feel like a crime to be black. It never occurred to me that I could not be anything my mind dreamt up because of the color of my skin.

The first time I realized my skin was a problem (for others, not me) was when a classmate who was also black told me I was not black like the others in our class – no, I was purple. After that, I was an “African booty scratcher” (whatever that meant or means). Then I was the girl who would “do voodoo on you” if you got too close. My introduction into the American system of education and daily life reminded me constantly that I did not belong here. My hair was wrong. My skin was wrong. My clothes were wrong. My name was convoluted, and on and on the list of transgressions grew. From the age of ten till seventeen, when I went off to college, I was grappling with what it meant to be black in America.

I have had to keep my race in mind pretty much since the day I arrived on US soil and realized everyone around me was not black. I am overly reverential to police officers and law enforcement in all our interactions (while I’m driving, in my community or in my home) to make sure they see that I am not a threat. I still get a lump in my throat when a police car pulls up behind me but I hope with each interaction that my law degree and education (and the expertise they’ve afforded me on how to navigate the world) provides enough shield to get me home safely to my family.

I miss the freedom of being a Lagos girl who did not have to think about her skin and anticipate what people would be thinking of her when she steps into rooms at school, at work, in court, behind the wheel, or on public platforms. I breathe differently in Nigeria because despite the deep-seethed issues of colonialism in Nigeria, I never felt like I had a target on my back because of my skin color.

So, to my skin-folk (black people all over the diaspora), our skin is not a crime. Being black is not synonymous with being suspicious or being “criminal,” no matter what the neighbors on your NextDoor app happen to think (“suspicious activity – 3 African American teens seen walking in the neighborhood”). Your skin is not something people need to “look past” or be “colorblind” to. God created us in His image so our melanin is purposeful and worth celebrating. Celebrating our culture is not synonymous with “playing the race card” or “making everything about race.” We have a godly heritage in the Lord and He rejoices in our full expression, our joy, our creativity as a people – even in the midst of a world who would rather we just ‘shut up’ about being black because all lives matter.

Your skin is not a crime and your blackness is not a sin. God delights in us. We bear His image and we display His glory.

Embracing your God-given dignity and worth in a world that is hell-bent on “keeping you in your place” is a revolutionary act. With all godliness and grace I bid you to “fight the power.”

Yours in Christ,

Omowunmi

There was a time in my life when I was scared of money. I remember it vividly. It was only four years ago (and all the years prior to 2016). I did not realize it was fear that was operating in my life. I just thought I was living out the premise of Philippians 4 where Paul told us that he has learned to be abased and to abound and he (and us) can do all things (like living with little or with much) through the strength of Christ. I encourage you to go read that chapter and verse in the proper context. Despite what we believers have decided to make the verse mean, it is not a verse about our ability to do EVERYTHING. Apostle Paul was literally talking about the fact that as believers who carry the grace of God, we can be content with life in whatever state we happen to find ourselves.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I thought I had learned to be content with little. Wasn’t that the goal of every believer’s life? I took a spiritual gifts test during that time and my highest scoring goal was poverty.

Yes. Poverty.

The cycle of struggle in my household had become so repetitive that I was convinced that God was keeping me poor to keep me holy. Yup. Money was nothing but trouble and God wanted to make sure that I had just enough to almost cover my expenses but nothing more. So, I embraced the cycle of lack. We did our best with my husband’s wages and I did not attempt to make any more money from my fledgling business. I just focused my attention on our young children and comforted myself with the thought that if I could not be a income earner, I was at least a good wife and mother. That had to be enough.  I never fully admitted how much my fear of failure, fear of success and fear of money were driving all of my decision making during that time. I really thought I was doing what God wanted of me. God told us not to love money right? So if I did not do anything to get any more money, that had to be proof that I was not money hungry, right?

But do you know you can be poor and still have an inordinate amount of affection for money? I sure didn’t. I thought that as long as I was living paycheck to paycheck and not looking for more than covering my basic necessities, I was safe from the love of money – the root of all evil.

But I would come to find out that the LACK of money was fully capable of ruling my life just as much as having several fistfuls of cash, and the outcome was just as destructive. My fear of money built an obstacle against my faith in God. I did not trust God for more – if He wanted me to be poor what was the point of me applying for new jobs or trying to create new opportunities for myself – they were not going to work anyway. So, I spent years running away from new risks and challenges because my fear of money had morphed into a fear of failure and success.

Changing my mindset about money took several interventions. I had dozens of conversations with my parents that did not quite do the trick. I had ongoing conversations with my husband that finally helped me breakthrough my fear of failing at new things. And I had a session with a money mindset coach that absolutely transformed my thinking (shoutout to Toyin Crandell; if you don’t know that name, Google her!). Changing my mind about money and getting God’s perspective was a work of deliverance that God had to do in my life. I am so deeply grateful that the Lord opened my eyes to the ways I was shooting myself in the foot all while crying out for Him to rescue me, bless me or provide for me.

Money is a terrible master but a wonderful servant. Money is supposed to serve us believers as we endeavor to bring the Kingdom of heaven to earth. Heaven lacks nothing good, so why should the life of a believer who God has blessed with the power to make wealth and fund kingdom projects be a life wasted in worry about the basic necessities of life? God will provide for us – just as He feeds the birds, and clothes the lilies. But God has also given us an extraordinary amount of gifts, talents and wealth-generating ideas for us to sinfully sit and do nothing about them while the world languishes in lack, waiting for the manifestation of the sons and daughters of God (Romans 8:19). Children of God (creative, educated, intelligent, with an extraordinary amount of privilege in a world where the vast majority lives on less than a dollar a day) whose means are able to answer the needs created by poverty, disease, famine and many more world crises. We are created in the image of God to be problem-solvers on this earth. If the only problem we ever solve is how to feed and clothe ourselves and our own household, then I honestly believe we have not even scratched the surface of the abundant life that God intends for us.

Money answereth all things (Ecclesiastes 10:19, KJV). That does not mean money is the only thing you need in the world. Because as believers, we know that without Christ, all the money in the world is meaningless. But does it not make the most sense for children of God, who operate with God’s wisdom to be the one with the means to solve the problem in such a way that brings the Kingdom of God to earth? It does to me.

This post is a very #FirstWorldProblems centered post. Obviously, if you are in the same boat as a majority of the world that has no guarantee of their next meal or a roof over their head, you are not the one being charged with funding the solutions that I truly believe already lie in the hearts, minds or hands of children of God. But if you happen to live in the Western Hemisphere of the world and you know you are privileged in some ways (educated, housed – meaning not homeless, able-bodied, etc.), you have a duty to spend your privilege wisely. And one of the best ways to do that is to make the most of your opportunity rather than discounting them (and spending your entire life only consumed with you and your household).

There is more for you to do in the world than work, pay bills and die. Money matters. Find out what yours is supposed to do in this world for the sake of the Gospel.

In 2009 shortly after giving my life to Christ, I had a deep desire to mentor and minister to teenage girls – so I started a bible study and titled it “Daughters of Destiny.” I gathered a handful of girls between the ages of thirteen and sixteen at the time and mentored them weekly for over two years. When most of them dispersed for college and adulthood, it felt like my work was done. But the desire to continue to get in the trenches with young people and offer them this level of intensive one-on-one discipleship never went away. As I grew, my desire to minister to young people began to focus more on college aged and post-graduate women between the ages of 18 and 25. And as I have grown in the place of marriage, that desire to “do life” with other women has grown once again to include young wives, newlyweds and engaged women.

Over the last eleven years of my life, the unrelenting desire that I am supposed to be partnering with women in a way that eases the pain points in their life has never left me. I did not always understand that this was what people meant by a “calling.” I just knew that I enjoyed this work, I was good at it, and having hours long exchanges with younger women where I literally pour out everything God gives me to share with them did not leave me drained, they left me energized and ready to do it again as soon as my body was physically able.

I always thought it would take money to do this kind of work on a regular basis. If I wanted to meet with women, I needed money to travel to them or gather them together in some sort of meeting, right? I did not immediately realized that I was already doing the work that I felt called to do – by speaking one on one with young women around me, making myself available for phone calls that sometimes stretch into the night as I try my best to get them to understand how God sees them and their situation.

I was already hosting sleepovers for college-aged women in my home. I was already spending hours on college campuses in dorm rooms teaching and fellowshipping with other women. I was already joined in sisterhood with women younger than me whom I have taken into my heart as little sisters. I was already sharing whatever felt pertinent and necessary about my journey with women who connected with me on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. I was already living the vision I had in my heart of ministering to, encouraging and mentoring other women.

But because it did not look like big stages, conference invitations, and perfectly branded flyers and headshots, I thought I was being left behind while other women – those whose platforms were visible and identifiable – did the real work. I know better now. God did not call me to have the most amount of engagement on social media (although, I am still doing my best to do better with those numbers lol). God never asked me to get the best and most updated headshots. He certainly did not tell me that I needed a certain amount of money in the bank to qualify to minister to others. Those were restrictions I placed on myself because I was too afraid to call myself a minister of the gospel without all the trappings that often comes with public ministry.

My life is ministry. My obedience to God is ministry. My authenticity in Christ is ministry. And it is well past time to embrace it as such. I do not need to “do ministry” by having a following, a tour calendar and assistants galore. I needed to minister by recognizing those around me who are in need of what God has graced me to carry.

I get joy out of holding another wife’s hands and declaring her worth in her home and in the marketplace and letting her know that her paycheck or lack thereof do not determine her worth in her marriage or to God.

I get joy out of speaking words of life over a young person who is at a crossroads in their growth towards adulthood and letting them know that God is literally interested in the details of their life and their obedience to Him is the only determining factor by which they should measure their success.

There are things that come naturally to me, that give me joy and glorify God that I have minimized in their importance because I was not being paid or asked to do them. But that way of thinking is insulting to the God we serve. Is God only required to answer prayers when honorariums are given? Or does He hold back breakthrough and deliverance if there’s nobody there to introduce the guest preacher?

Many of the things I counted as “doing ministry” are just the practical necessities and sometimes the outer trappings of someone who operates on a worldwide stage. The size of the platform is not what qualifies a minister before God. Clean hands and pure hearts are what God looks for in those who call His name. Regardless of how I earn my bread and butter (currently as a consultant), I do not need to be paid for anything I do as a follower of Christ before I should call myself a minister of the Gospel. Jesus Himself called me to spread the gospel. I have no greater allegiance than to answer His call and steward the vision He placed of my heart – that every daughter of God who calls the name of Christ will live a full and authentic life, free of the bondage of the enemy and brimming over with the promises of God.

There have been specific times in my life when I did not feel seen. It has happened at various times while I was growing up and even after I became an adult. The results were always devastating. Before I found a semblance of healing, my natural response was to get more and more outrageous in behavior until someone acknowledged me. I have since learned healthier ways to navigate my need to be seen, especially by those that I love.

So, in the spirit of camaraderie with anyone who is walking an exceptionally challenging valley right now, I am just here to say I see you.

To anyone who is still reeling from the impacts of childhood (and adult) trauma, I see you. I see you doing your best to heal from what wounded you. Even when you do not necessarily have all the tools. Jesus mourns with you in your mourning and He died to redeem you from its impact. Therapy, counseling and professional help is not shameful. It is a God-given tool in your deliverance and wholeness. Use them as often as the need arises and God will complete the work, in this life and the next.

To anyone who is waiting and waiting for God to fulfill the promise He made to you what seemed like many lifetimes ago. I see you. I see you being faithful even when others have long since abandoned the higher calling. I see you holding on to the flicker of hope left in your heart, willing the flame to live. And I see you mourning your empty hands that have failed to grasp what your heart so deeply desires. And I want you to know that you have every right to your pain. Your feelings are valid and you are not a bad Christian for mourning so deeply. Jesus knows our sorrows; He is with you and He loves you. You are not being punished. If God has promised, He will fulfill. Remain obedient, remain faithful and remain steadfast. He will uphold you in the waiting and your joy WILL be full.

To anyone grieving a loss that the world may not necessarily know about. I see you. And I know that you are walking through the valley of the shadow of death. But fear not. Even in this seemingly desolate place, you are not forgotten. I see you carrying the sackcloth and ashes of your despair. I see you heavy under the weight of your loss. And God sees you. He will be with you. He will lead you beside still waters. He will restore your soul. You have gone out mourning but you will come back rejoicing. Cling ever closer to Calvary. Cry, weep, lay it all before Him. Yell, scream, give voice to the silent anger in your heart about the unfairness of what you are being tasked to carry. It is okay. God is not offended by your emotions. He created them and He is best capable of managing them. He will still love you in your anger. He will still love you in your pain. He is still with you in your mourning. He sees you and I see you.

To anyone whose marriage is in crisis or has drifted irrevocably towards divorce. I see you. And I am so sorry. This was not the future you imagined when you said your vows. This was not what we expected when you wore your dress and walked that aisle. This was not the outcome you planned for when you joined your lives or started your family. It has been said that divorce/separation is akin to the death of a loved one. You have every right to mourn this tragedy. I see you and I am praying for you. I am praying that the God of reconciliation and resurrection works in your heart as only He can do. That what man has called dead will hear the word of God and come back to life, better than before. I pray that the glory of your latter days will be greater than the former. You are not broken because your marriage failed. God can still make beautiful things out of these ashes. He can reconcile hearts to Himself and one another. He can rebuild what men have broken. He can do the impossible. Cling to the hope of resurrection and life. He will sustain you.

When you feel forgotten in your circumstance, know that you are fully known and fully loved by your Heavenly Father. He loves you and He sees you.

And so do I.