Delaying my obeying through this dismay, in the popular decay around me, moves the ground and makes me want to flee. I’m over and under, in this drowning plunder, of cheap self made lemonade. Those call your chosen, allow in their hallow swallow, avoidance to their bow. Worldly confinement is in the space of the place to His Alignment. I’m tired, and wired because sleep is deep, and I avoid counting sheep where God and I meet. There’s a heavy lead of dread, from my residue of what’s simply not true. Corruptive confetti will never replace the space of empty. A hit it and quit it will never be made legit, through the protest of no confess and the distress of a last dance becoming a legal stance. There’s no tomorrow in the choice in the voice of sorrow. False prophets made it hobbit to peel the reel to never feel. Wrong rings will always sting because God said no in the go of man. This will never be a biblical stand.
I am really tired God. This wilderness is so real. There’s no breaks in what you’re constantly showing me is at great stake. That’s okay, I choose your Obey, but your wrestle with me, prevents me to flee from what I don’t want to see. This is career five or six, you’re removing my groove to move on, and create a new song. You’re retuning my pruning, to no longer be stronger in my redirect to neglect your fine tuning. In my gauge I usually turn the page, and quickly disengage. To my dismay, I can’t delay or turn from this stage. You reject my rage. I must face what makes me feel disgraced. My salute can no longer be mute. I must express my defense and what greatly makes me stressed.
My obsession in my lack of confession is being dismantled by you God. My flesh god facade can no longer be my mirage of self sabotage. You God let me live, for a very long time, in my sorrow to avoid tomorrow. Today is the way, to face my dismay, and no longer be stronger in disobey. It’s not okay to call out the fall outs of my screams, shouts, and hidden pouts through me, that I sometimes see. It’s not okay to be in dismay, to those that choose night community in no real love unity. Especially when, you’ve ruined my running zen God, and my ability to press play in pretend.
This is the hardest season I’ve ever professionally had to walk. Not because I’m an apprentice reacher through my current assignment as teacher, but because all the issues I’ve avoided in past careers, are coming out full throttle in this current painful season. There’s so much going on that’s case sensitive where you’ve changed my ability in transparency, to stay in my desire to be biblically aligned to order. Thank you for my growth in writing God. Sometimes I can figure out where you’re leading us through words, and other times like now, I just walk through the unknown knowing you go before me. Like your three vessels in Daniel 3. That’s one of my favorite references of biblical faith. I feel very closely to that journey now. I feel like I’m walking through a scorching fire from all angles and three people are here: me, Jojo and you God. You keep covering us in the madness of our lives.
I’ve been in and out of having a head cold for about two months now. I’m struggling. It’s really hard. I have no insurance, because I have no time to actually fill that stuff out. I had to wait until November to come, now it’s here but my health is just not something that’s a priority to me. I’m not a priority to me. It’s kind of hard making me important, because I’ve been effected by so much that went down in the last two years of my life. That this recent pain, triggers pains from my past. I just want to keep moving, and leave New York completely.
I’m over everything. I’m over the politics at my job. I’m over the politics of church, which I learned about from my old church. I’ve been deeply affected by my experience of my old church, that I’m so traumatized to serve at my new church. Acts of service is a strong love language for me. I love showing people how much I love to love by serving. But I don’t want the insanity of my schedule to clear, because then I’ll no longer have the legitimate excuse to not have time to serve. I no longer want to serve because of my old church. It’s sad that I like no one knows me at my new church. It’s even sadder I’m so happy to no longer be at my old church, because I will never see some of them ever again. With the exception of the few gems that showed me love. I’ll be okay with never ever seeing a lot of them ever again.
I went to an event last weekend, where I encountered a lot of people from my old church. Seeing the rare gems that showed me love was nice, but I was very concerned with seeing those that weren’t so nice. Thank GOD it was just a wonderful worship experience for me. Thank GOD that in my mind it was a lot worse than it actually was. Going to this event brought me great anxiety. I was so stressed out about it. And not being a hundred percent doesn’t do any good to my health.
I have this cough that deeply stresses out my dad and Jojo* to the point they’re on my case and it annoys me. They are both getting on my nerves, like why can’t they just ignore I’m sick like I try to? I don’t get it. But then I have to remember, that not everyone deflects like I do. And I have to remember people love me. I have to remember despite everything people care about me. I’m so happy that the event last week, was all about Jesus and worship for me. I love Jesus and I love worship. I love singing. I miss singing sometimes.
I used to be apart of a music honor society as a child in my community, where I played the congas and xylophone. I also sang in this community. I got invited to play, and perform in Paris when I was 13 years old. My mom is super paranoid. At first my dad was on board with me going to Paris, but then my mom convinced my dad I’d be kidnapped, and sold into slavery so my dad didn’t allow me to go. I stopped talking to my mom the whole summer, because I was convinced she ruined my life. I’m alignment to God now. I realized I was being protected, from the unknown confinements of the world. My mom was protecting me. My mom is one of my protectors.
When I was a part of this music community, It was the best traveling all over with my band that was my family to just be free in music. It was the absolute best. But the meanness of this world, and getting hurt by pockets of so many moments in life, made me pull out from singing and playing instruments. I was done. I put down a lot of my abilities, because of discouragement. The brokenness of this planet to just break a human, and take without letting up is real. That’s why I don’t trust easily. That’s why it’s hard for me to forgive and forget. Because I refuse to feed the weed of ruse, and let any human think they can make me sink ever again. I’m upward falling in the wings of my King who makes my soul sing.
That’s one of the many reasons why I left my old church, and why I want to leave my current job. I just want to move to an isolated mountain in the middle of nowhere, and be around no one except for God and Jojo* people break, and take like leeches with their poisonous speeches. I’m tired. I’m just tired of the nonsense of politics, being in all facets of my life, that I don’t want to be touched: work and church. My church hurt is real. There’s so much concealed, and not revealed. I’m a woman of peace, and I’m a woman of order. There’s a serious level of delicacy that is tied to my alignment to God, and all that I walked through from the flesh god facades of so many mirages. There’s a lot going on that I must express in a godly manner. Because I’m a daughter to the Highest King. I’m a woman of God.
This election has deeply affected me. It has brought so much emotions that I’ve buried to the surface. My life forever changed the night of my 19th year of life, where I was sexually assaulted. I’m tired of being easily triggered by a moment of time that’s far gone from my everyday life. A century changed and there are moments where that night feels like yesterday. To me it shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t still be having nightmares, and panic attacks over something that happened to me 14 years ago. That’s ridiculous to me. Jojo shouldn’t of witnessed a panic attack, because this election triggered so much that’s tied to that night of my life. Before Jojo seeing that panic attack, I was able to hide them from everyone around me. The blog posts I wrote at my new church, was me working through mild panic attacks.
I have mild panic attacks and severe ones, like the one Jojo witnessed this past Wednesday was severe. The severe ones I cannot breathe. God entered her, and she coached me to breathe, and walk through my panic attacks. We were late to class because of it. I told my professor, which shocked me and she said it’s okay she understands. I don’t talk about a lot that I hide on the inside. I don’t like that Jojo saw that. I don’t like that I’ve been fighting to regain a control, I believe was stolen from me that night when I was 19. I don’t like that God is making me face all that I see as a disgrace. God is showing me this is all a part of my pace in His Race. I don’t like that all that I thought will never be revealed will stay forever concealed. To my dismay God is no longer allowing me to believe that lie because it makes me die inside.
This wasn’t a part of God’s plan: me dying from lying. I’m not always okay when I say. I need to take a stand, in His Land and trust that God will always be My Band. God keeps surrounding me with gems, and people I can be free around. God keeps blessing me with iron sharpeners like Jojo, as my best friend. A God fearing best friend I’ve been praying to have for years, even before I meet her. My bubbly confetti never ever replaced my space of lonely empty. Through all these years, I just got better at hiding my tears and fears.
I became a dame in hiding my shame that makes me feel lame. Thank GOD this facade is no longer a self made lemonade mirage. There’s deliverance in my hinderance called surrender. I no longer choose worldly confine in my silence, because it’s not a godly alliance. I choose to free-fall in my pitfall. I choose to sing through my stings, and swings of the conundrum of my pendulum. My stigmas are no longer enigmas. Thank you God for being my anchor. I love you so much world, because He taught me too. Don’t lose heart saints. Remain steadfast. Remain unmoved: Psalm 46. Thy rod and thy staff comforts. Psalm 23. Love Crysta.
Love your daughter,
*names changed for privacy reasons. #TeamProPrivacy