This is the hardest season you have my sister Jojo* and I walking through, to date. Thank God, we have each other walking through as sharpeners in the sadness of our madness. Thank God we can uplift each other through these very challenging, and unspeakable times. We’re mired in the peeling feeling of our wired pain, because the be to our see is a three year no gain. What we see as our bane in this long song is our transform from this worldly conform; by the renewal of our minds. Romans 12:2. Only you God are True.

You’re halting the self made faulting of our rewind in time. It’s not 2005, or 2015 so the reel and the peels of these scratching heels is truly the past, let it no longer last: the missed mark of dark is truly Your Spark. There’s no tranquility in the conformity of pale scales prevailing. They’re ailing the choice, to allow the follow in your dominant voice. The looping reels we peel to feel, are self made lemonade reacting to these ribcage stages, of suffocating wages. They’re caged too, and doesn’t change they are also true. Just like you God. So our flesh god facades are no longer stronger. They don’t work, because you are near and far. You are the Great I Am. And in your command we stand as your unified band, to edify this broken land. What Jojo and I push to neglect; you lovely correct with your graceful suggest, to show us the press flow in go of worldly reject. There’s no disconnect, despite our protest because only God confirms the affirm of His Return. 

Man cannot stand, that Jojo and I are a unified godly band, going on seven years in these hidden tears. In our fears, our sisterhood always seeks God in all facades he calls us, to spark in hidden darks as His Covered Marks. In our hiccups we make up, and remember that we are lenders and senders, in the mundane routine of everyday mean. We are saints on assignments, in this solitary confinement, in this fall, all truly need to see His Alignment to be set free. What’s done in the dark will always come to light. Press play in fight, and clinging to all His Singing Might. November 5th is the shift, in the flesh god facades, nightly unity rifts will never ever be of God. There’s only unity in the maturation, and penetration of His Humility. There’s no room for hesitation. Just dedication and the absurdity, of the nonconformist-lyrics of His Painted Gain, through our written poetic pain. Isaiah 66:9. Only you God are Above Time.

Every angle in this scorching fire, called this season both Jojo and I are walking overwhelms us. Like your saints in Daniel 3, we are not getting burned because you go before us. There is a peace we both feel, that surpasses all understanding. For your rod and thy staff comforts us. Psalm 23:4. My mom used to read the Bible to my brother and I, to get us to fall asleep, and she read Psalm 23 to us every night, from memory. Her mom: my late amazing grandmother, pushed her to memorize this scripture power, because she recited it to my mom and her sister growing up. As much as my mom irritates me, she’s a flawed woman of strong faith. Just like my grandmother was, just like my dad is. 

God has been walking me through breaking my habits of worldly perceptions on how I see flawed humans. My weeds make me bleed out, and shout in pouts of brokenness. It’s not healthy for anyone around me, and definitely not healthy for those that I go hard for and love. I’m so protective, and I so love hard. I’m all about God, sisterhood, brotherhood, my family and human unity. I’m just like my dad in the belief that God made us all the same. But the world chooses to press a play, which is really a decay and a delay, in the plane Jane lane of shame and lame. 

I’m tired of being obedient, and I’m tired of crying. The worlds confetti will never ever replace the space of our inner empty. Words always hide what’s inside, when we choose to let them be the see, or press play in refuse through fear to rise above in love. So we choke on the provoke of ruse. It’s unpopular to choose to lose the patrol in control. It’s unpopular to be appalled in the fake call, of the lying decor of dying. It’s popular to be mute and dilute the half way tribute, to give a suffocating hibernating salute to somewhat all. I decided enough is enough. But that’s a flesh god facade, that my King is making me walk out, in my stings and shout outs, because only God makes me sing. I avoid feeling and loving, because when I’m caught off guard, that drop of betrayal is so painful. Like what I felt before I left my old church too many times to count. And according to Crysta there’s no gain, in that recovery of deliberate pain. People suck and they’re fake, in the replay reel of break and take. But guess what? I’m a prison in this schism too. I’m not removed from the groove of being too cool, for the school of rejecting being a fool. I’m a people too. This truth is about me too. 

If I have my own fine tuning pruning process, then so does everyone else on this planet. I don’t get to decide how my lies die, and neither does anyone else. The truth that Jojo and I choose to to cling to every night, and day is our obey in Your Okay. Where you lead my sister and I, we keep saying yes. Where two or more are gathered, that’s where your presences dwells. Matthew 18:20. 

I had a dream the other night about my brother, a white man I never meet called my brothers name. And this white man went to a door he was looking at, when he called my brothers name. I immediately went to the door, and this white man whispered in my ear, “Slide over there three days ago,” at first I said that makes no sense, God moves forward not backwards, satan is the thief of time, and Jesus is our restorer. Then I thought about the Cross of Calvary. Jesus died and rose in three days. Jesus is the voice of hope, and the conquer of death. Then I woke up and the rising of Jesus, where all things are new, has just been very heavy on my heart the last few days. Today, God lead me to Matthew 20:18-19, which discusses Jesus’ resurrection. 

This is the blog post I had no desire to write. I’m tired of obeying God, and everything is getting harder in my life. I’m like flip this walk. Seriously. I wanted to walk away October 16th, then God made his son, my brother in Christ call me as he just read my life. I haven’t even told him that details of the two biggest mountains of my life: this ribcage stressor, and what my family is going through, but he knew all the details. This son of yours just straight prophesied over my life. I really appreciate this son of yours God, and his sensitivity to the Holy Spirit. This son of yours literally pops up, when I’m too through with this walk, like this morning as well. This obedient son of yours, once again text me a timely message, right after my dad blew my mind, with what he said about the human body. Like I SEE you God. You’re making your presence very strong, and very clear in my presence and in my space. 

Regardless of how too through Jojo and I are, of this insane assignment at this specific school, you keep telling us to hold on. And to hang in there and we are both like no, defiance has a facade of flesh god alliances. So let’s jump on that bandwagon too. But that’s just not our truth, neither of us were created to hibernate in the separation of you God. You keep us from drinking the kool-aid, You keep pushing us to reject the dead in dread of that poisonous lead. Instead, we keep pressing play in obey, because You Say eject the decay in delay. We both allow the bow to the truth of Your Proof: every knee shall bow. Psalm 22:27. 

Wisdom will always be better than the withering of popularity. Popularity isn’t bigger than Purpose. Our neglect will always be a redirect by God, because God allows all, to cause us to fall, so that we can give our all. Death of flesh is far better to celebrate than the beginning of newfound life. Ecclesiastes 7:1. Anyone can do well when we are up, what happens whenever we are down and out!? Do we all go to God then!? Everyday is the risk of not falling in the trap, to be zapped in decay of yesterday. Salvation is a one time gift, however surrender is a daily revival. There’s deliverance in the hinderance called our surrender. So don’t choke on the easy yolk, allow the fearful evoke and provoke to be your see so that you can be set free, finally. Take His Hand. 

Dad this is so hard, I deeply dislike a huge chunk of this insane season. Jojo just wants total out. I’m desperate to cling to the hope of this hopelessness, and it’s getting harder. The lies are getting louder, and my cries feel like closed walls in this pitfall. The flames just look so hot, but you protect me so don’t stop. Keep protecting Jojo, too. I keep saying yes, despite my desire to fallback in attacks, and say yes to the road that has nothing to do to my call. I will confine and discern what you keep showing me, so that I can continue to be your lighter and your fighter. I know Jojo will fight to keep choosing you too, despite her desires. You are Higher. Isaiah 55:8 so don’t hesitate to keep showing both of us it will never be too late. I love you because you’re truth God. There’s no fear here, not anymore. You keep showing me that I fully say go, in this free fall of giving my all. 

Love your daughter.

*names changed for privacy purposes. #TeamProPrivacy 


2 thoughts on “Nonconformist 

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