Tag: grief

life

The Great Surrender of 2024

Omowunmi

The way my life has been set up for the last two years or so can only be titled “the great undoing” – shout out to my sister Dr. Gabrielle Gibson who introduced me to the concept of “undoing to become.”

Here is a quick recap of my life in case you are new here. The most significant shift of my life started in February 2021 when I went through my first time of deliverance through the ministry, Restoring the Foundations. It was three days and fifteen hours of ministry time that went into the very foundations of my life and restored me to God’s original intent for my identity. After that life-changing time, I went through a deliverance “tune-up” in December 2022 and received even more freedom. I eventually became a certified deliverance minister in February 2023 and was trained to use the same tools that brought me to freedom to minister deliverance to others by the power of the Holy Spirit.

I expected that becoming “freer than the day before” and now certified to minister deliverance to others would make this walk of freedom easier. Instead, the last 22 months since I became a deliverance minister have been filled with a shaking like I could not have imagined. I knew something was brewing as I came up on my 40th birthday in 2023 but I could not have anticipated what the year would bring.

April 2023 met me releasing the one career path that I had laid out for myself since the age of three. I surrendered the title of ‘attorney’ along with any intention to return to the practice of law. I closed my law practice in February 2019 so one would assume that formally walking away from a legal career in 2023 would have given me ample time (four years) to adjust to life after law. But what met me in the wake of my decision was a wave of grief like nothing I could have anticipated. I kept brushing off the grief, telling myself it did not matter. I had already decided years ago that legal practice was not for me. I gave law my best shot (was it really my best?) and all I had received in return was a growing sense of imposter syndrome that eventually gave way to mental health crises and panic attacks.

Try as I may, I could not shake the grief that I had “lost” something by giving up my legal career. Eventually, I stopped trying to “push through” and decided to acknowledge my grief. The sense of loss I was carrying was because being a lawyer had given me a well-defined understanding of what my career identity would entail for all of my adult life until the age of 39. Without law as even a possibility, I was faced with reinventing myself at 40.

At a time when my colleagues from law school were collecting accolades for fifteen years of experience as legal practitioners, experts, judges, and industry movers and shakers – I was starting all over. The waves of grief came in pulses. Many days and weeks, I would be filled with hopeful optimism at a future that looked wide open, and other days I would lament the thought of having to be an “entry-level professional” almost 20 years after entering law school.

I spent the rest of 2023 processing my grief and sense of loss. The Lord was kind in meeting me wherever I found myself. As I entered 2024, I kept asking the Lord what was next. I got my answer in February of 2024 and began carving out my next path towards a meaningful career. I enrolled in a grueling certificate program to learn a new industry. It took me seven months and three weeks to complete my six-month certificate, but I persevered. Through serious illnesses, multiple hospital stays, and a terrifying week in the children’s hospital, I eventually completed my certificate in September of 2024.

Enrolling in and completing that certificate program was an act of surrender. It meant that I was ready for the Lord to lead me down a different path than the one I had carved out for almost 20 years.

I was optimistic about the future once again.

But this new place of promise has also been filled with familiar giants and new opposition. The imposter syndrome that paralyzed me at various points in my twenties has once again raised its ugly head. Every day is a decision to contend against the lies that undermine my dreams. The sense of inadequacy and unworthiness that plagued me when I was out of work have become familiar tools that the accuser wields against me in this current season.

But I remind myself that I am not the same woman I was ten years ago. In 2014, as a new wife and mom, the enemy found a gaping hole of insecurity in my identity as a wife and mom whose primary role was at home and outside of the marketplace. My lack of salary convinced me back then that I had little worth to my husband and my family. I have since healed my understanding of my identity, my worth, and my indispensability inside of my home. The enemy was trying old doors to see if I had changed the locks or if they would continue to yield him access. It is an honor to be equipped to pull down imaginations and everything that exalts itself against the knowledge of Christ in my identity.

My surrender in 2024 is to the God who can make beautiful things out of the ashes of my life. Mourning the loss of my career from 2023 into 2024 reminded of King David of the Bible when the child he bore in adultery with Bathsheba was sick. David lamented as the child struggled to live. One would have thought that David himself would die with the child. But when the child finally passed, King David got up, washed his face, ate, and continued on with the business of serving the Lord and ruling as king. I was afraid to mourn my career loss because I thought if I started, I would never stop. And grieving so vehemently over something that the Lord had allowed seemed sinful. But the Lord Himself showed me that if I did not grieve properly, I would not heal. There was a way to grieve my sense of loss that honored my humanity and yet did not dishonor my God.

So, that is what I did. Grieving well allowed me to see the way forward when the Lord said to embark on a brand-new career in which I have no experience whatsoever.

I am still on this journey, believing the Lord for something glorious in the unknown of the future after relinquishing the familiar past. The testimonies that come after obedience are not yet fully manifested in this new lane. I am still waiting, trusting, and applying for my first big break in a new career. But I trust God to complete the good work He has started. The great surrender of 2024 may well continue into 2025, but I trust the God who caused me to defeat the lion and bear in the wilderness that He will bring down whatever giant stands in the way of His plans for my life in the new year.

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After All…Stand

Omowunmi

After you have seen the errors of your ways.After you have cried out to God for forgiveness. After you have repented and turned away from the path of wickedness. After you have sought reconciliation with your brethren. After you have apologized and humbled yourself. After you have accepted the consequences of your wrongdoing. After you have cried tears of regret for what was lost. After you have searched and searched your heart for more you can do to make amends. After you have taken the hurtful truths that others have spoken. After you have quieted yourself in the midst of lies. After you have comforted yourself in the Lord’s presence. After you have opened the wounded places for others so they can help. After you have received their counsel and comfort. After you have revisited the same hurting places a thousand times again. After you have cried out to God for healing once and for all. After you have submitted your emotions to God, refusing to be mastered by your feelings. After you have given Christ the place as Lord over your feelings. After you have bowed yourself in obedience at His throne, awaiting His instructions and ready to do all He commands, no matter how painful. After you have prayed to grow in love. After you have prayed for them even when they continue to curse you. After you have rejoiced when others are rejoicing. After you have chosen to see things through their eyes, refusing to worship your feelings but rather show compassion. After you have revisited the same memories over and over again. After you have shed the same tears for the same hurt. After you have crawled back to the throne of mercy and grace and asked the Lord for His help yet again. After you have done all, stand.

Despite my best efforts and almost two years later, I am still mourning. My heart is still heavy and my emotions are still raging. A sister asked me yesterday if I have exhausted every opportunity to make things better and I told her honestly that I have. I sincerely believed that I had. Then today I went to my email and saw the confirmation of my efforts. I did not even remember that I ever wrote this email but there it was in my outbox – a humbling and fervent attempt at reconciliation; a written manifesto of my desire to be heard and understood; an overt pleading to be seen as I am and not mistaken for a malicious person of ill-intent. After all of my best efforts, after all of my hours spent in prayer asking God to show me what else I need to do, praying for peace of mind in the midst of an ending friendship, asking Him to grow me in love so that I do not repay (what feels like) hate with hate of my own, desperately seeking to be okay if reconciliation is not God’s will for us – after all of that, all I can do now is stand.

I stand by my efforts to make things better. I stand by my intentions because they were good. I stand by my friendship because even though it is over, it was genuine. I stand by the good times we shared because they gave me real and tangible joy. I stand by my emotions as well, because even though they are all over the place at the moment, I have the right to mourn in my own way.

My frustration was because the weeping was enduring for many more nights than I could have ever guessed. Where was the joy that was promised to come in the morning? Matter of fact, where was the morning? I was tired of the night – it was lasting many more weeks and months than anyone ever prepared me for. I wanted the joy that the morning promised. It can be such a frustrating thing to be genuinely seeking God’s healing over an area of brokenness in your life (in my case, a broken friendship), and never see wholeness on the horizon. I have prayed. I still pray. I have sought counsel. I have journaled. I have reasoned. I have concluded. I have attempted to see other’s perspective and it has all been helpful. There was a time when I thought I was healed. Then yesterday happened and I melted into tears again. And this morning, my thoughts led me down an emotional path once again and I find myself frustrated at myself. Why am I still crying over this? The only answer I have today is that it is okay. I trust God to perfect the healing that has begun in my heart. I am not crazy for still mourning. I am not hurting because I have not forgiven. I have. I am hurting because I am human. Yet I am not without hope. My hope for this hurt is The Healer Himself. I will continue to stand in His grace alone.