Becoming Stronger Than Your Storm

This past summer I was that girl at the edge of the dock. Life delivered me another unexpected blow. The company I had moved my life across the country for was undergoing a reorganization and, as such, my role was eliminated. I was forced into the thrashing waters of a job loss, having to confront the anxiety, humiliation, frustration and myriad of questions that come when you are severed from a company. I was provided a healthy severance; however, my exit was not handled well and left me feeling wounded and incredibly confused. When speaking with trusted advisers they assured me I’d easily find work, which I did, but something fierce welled up inside me this time. I was angry, deeply infuriated, yet felt guilt for being so.

Why? Because anyone looking at my life would think I’ve got it made. I have my health, an amazing son, great family and friends, a beautiful home, money in the bank, and a robust dose of skills and talent. But these are all external influences.

How do we give ourselves permission to sort through the yuck when our soul hurts and when we feel profoundly wronged and lack clarity and purpose? How do we move past the fear of feeling we’re forfeiting our faith, perspective and gratitude for the emotional fragility we’re facing?

As a woman of faith, I struggled with the raw emotion I was experiencing through my circumstances. Not only was I confronting a job loss, but agonizing isolation. My support systems are thousands of miles away. I live in total day to day seclusion that, at times, crushes me. Intrinsically, I knew God had his hand over me and would guide me through this difficult period; however, boiling inside of me was a cornucopia of emotion that needed to be confronted.

One morning I sat in silence and wrote out the ugly I was feeling. I gave myself permission to have an honest dialogue, without guilt, over what I was experiencing.

And this is what I wrote…

I am angry. I am frustrated. I am confused. I am afraid. I feel painfully isolated. I feel lost. My heart hurts. I am weary from crying. I feel irrelevant. I feel lack of clarity. I am exhausted from the continual dialogue and replay in my head. I am drained from fighting to be strong. I feel like a fraud for appearing to be strong when I’m crumbling inside. I feel humiliated. I feel taken advantage of. I feel as if I give more than I get. I feel grief for the time I’ve lost. I despise this and those who brought these circumstances into my life. I don’t want to feel like this anymore!

I spoke these words over and over until I could read them without wanting to cry. Until I could fully give them over to God to dispose of. Until I no longer felt a pang in my heart. Until I owned them and obliterated their power over me. It was intensely cathartic and freeing. I was no longer running from the complex matrix of emotions that chased me morning, noon and night, but rather, I had driven a stake into its putrefied heart snuffing out any ability for it to beat further. By doing so, I was able to eradicate the mountain of ill my soul was feeling and replace it with grace and peace, and have clarity of vision and purpose again.

It’s ironic that when we strip ourselves to such humbled vulnerability, we become fiercely empowered. By authentically owning what we’re experiencing and facing it head on, we become stronger than the storm raging in us. We now own the storm and have the power to bring the howling winds of all the negative emotions we were feeling to a silence. Once in the silence, we can look out from the docks edge, take in the tranquility and beauty of the new horizon, whisper a prayer of gratitude for the strength to have conquered yet another storm, and then set our compass in the direction of our next journey.

Doing The Charleston

This past year has been a year of many exciting firsts, both good and challenging. One positive first, was taking a mini-vacation solo. I recently ventured down the eastern coast to the lovely city of Charleston, SC. Traveling has the amazing ability to broaden your mind, open you to new cultures and completely transform you. I spent three days immersing myself in the rich, albeit, difficult at times, history of Charleston; from the battle worn brick walls of Fort Sumter to the slave trade market and cobbled stoned streets of the city. My soul was moved, at times my heart broken, for the right reasons, and my desire to travel more intensely amplified. I came away fortified with a deeper knowledge of our nation’s history and a renewed respect and admiration for our fore sisters and brothers.

You can’t walk through the entrance arch of Fort Sumter and not feel a pang in your heart. The average age of the men at Fort Sumter was 25, and as young as 18. They were sons, brothers, fathers, and husbands, enlisted as soldiers, armed with artillery and patriotic zeal, embarking on a war that would be brutally won by the North. It was humbling to stand at the Fort’s center and know that this was the birthplace of the Civil War and that Abraham Lincoln once walked these very grounds.

I also took what is known as the Gullah Tour. Gullah is the language the slaves spoke, and is still used among several Charleston communities. Our tour guide, Alphonso, was a lively character as he shared his incredible knowledge of Charleston as well as its role in the slave trade. You could feel the history of the city come alive as he spoke. There was deep emotion felt by all when we came upon what was known as the “slave markets” and “whipping house”. There were tears from some and a collective quiet respect and reverence as we feebly attempted to understand the atrocities that took place on those grounds. It made us uncomfortable in a way we needed to be, and you would be void of a soul if you didn’t leave changed for the better.

I returned from Charleston schooled with its rich history and a love for the Charleston people, both past and present. I also felt a twinge of pride in having embarked on this journey alone. There were many moments I would have liked to have shared with a friend or special someone; however, the solitude gave me the freedom to prove that I could successfully travel solo. It afforded me time for much needed reflection as well as discover more about myself and undiscovered interests and aspirations… One of which is to certainly travel more.

Now, where to next?

So, I love you...

This past week I received news that a dear friend in LA was struck and killed in a hit and run. The driver was caught within the hour; found to be driving under the influence and charged with vehicular homicide. Tragic and senseless!

I met Dahly two years ago in church. We were seated next to each other and exchanged a warm hug after the worship service. The connection was immediate and sincere. Dahly was accomplished, beautiful, intelligent, grounded, authentic, and had a heart for God and anyone who crossed her path. We were drawn to each other’s energy and passion for life and God. We would have lunch after church and prayed like the mamas we are over our boys. We referred to each other as forever sisters in Christ. We exchanged texts of encouragement when either was facing a difficult challenge and celebrated each others successes. Dahly was pure love and light and I always looked forward to spending time with her.

Upon receiving the news of Dahly’s untimely passing, I rushed to pull up her last text.  It said “One day one of us may not be here and it will be too late to say I love you… So, I love you.  Love ya, girl!” My reply was “Aw… sweetie. Thank you.  I love you too. Have a wonderful day ahead.”  I fell to the floor, intensely grief stricken and sobbed uncontrollably. It was chilling, cruelly ironic and ripped my heart wide open. How would she have known that within a few weeks her life would come to such a tragic end and that her words would have an immensely powerful and lasting impact?  How would either of us know that these would be our last words to each other? Yet, despite them being our last, they are the most precious words you can share with another soul.

As I struggle to make sense of Dahly’s passing and navigate the waves of grief that pour over me, I am reminded once more of our incontestable mortality and the brevity of our journey here. None of us gets out of this alive. We all have an end date.  It’s vital to live intentionally and fiercely in the dash of our birth and end dates. I am reminded, again, to love harder, hug longer, appreciate more deeply, forgive easily, live courageously and with greater purpose, relentlessly pursue my dreams, worry less, stay out of the shallow end of life's pool, and NEVER EVER let someone you love not know how much you love them.

I thank God for giving me the gift of Dahly and her beautiful effect on my soul. I am grateful to have experienced her words of love as well as her love in action. I will miss you, my dear friend and forever sister in Christ, and look forward to the day when I can warmly embrace you again!