Dreams Reborn

Joseph and the Coat of many colors are hands down my favorite biblical story. I’ve many times referenced myself as Joseph through life’s triumphs and travails. It was just this summer when every morning commute I listened to the Yolanda Morning Show pick apart each passage of Genesis 37-39 for a six week period. Those morning explorations of the story of Joseph set my soul on fire while building yet another rope of hope for me to hold.

See over the summer, I began a period of transition. I was leaving the strain and comfort from the non-working life to return back to full-time employment. I began in an environment that was coupled with good people but a few leaders with no vision (or mercy for the needs of people). Eventually, the Lord would see it that I would gain full-time employment in a region far away from my permanent home. Even now, I find myself recounting a few tales of Joseph.

Frankly, that is it. The points that I love so much about the story of Joseph is that he navigated valleys and peaks. This has always been my life. I am a dreamer by trade and shoot for the moon daily. My journey has taken me far and even dropped me through the netherworlds below the Earth’s crust. I saw a meme months ago that describes the Lord’s journey as crooked for most instead of linear (as we plan).

That’s when the story of Joseph helps me to hold out. See, every twist whether fair or unjust served a purpose. As every battle or imprisonment encroaches, closer Joseph draws nears his purpose and execution of his dreams.

This morning, I opted to rest instead of journey to my place of worship. I felt bad but had that feeling, like many other times, that I would still gather what I needed in spite of. Yes, I tuned into Beulah land Baptist Church in Macon Ga for a guest pastor Linda to speak of dreaming again.  The tears welled up in my eyes and soul as I realized the source of my inner ache.

As life gets tougher, harder, I near the threshold of my dreams. As, my enemies grow and obstacles rise, my purpose manifests itself. I am currently in a moment where I chose to stay and fight versus run. I doubted myself until I thrived through a week of miraculous blessings from above. This morning reminded me today that I am much closer than I think. Just as I began making mental preparation to settle into mediocrity, God showed me his hand.

Unsure

Unsure.

that feeling of not being concrete.

for some, the feeling is relative to quicksand nestled under your feet.

Daily, there are triggers and nuances that leave us feeling less than the 100% we began the day.

Even in those moments of doubt, confusion, or illusion parts of our inner truth fight towards the surface.

A song, meme, memory, or random text.

A billboard, conversation, question, or commercial.

Some material provides context and realign moments of not being sure.

These are not mere coincidences. These are acts of providence using life’s resources to prompt  sway you to stay the course.

Still Letting Go

I can hear myself humming Ant Hamilton’s “Can’t Let Go” as I prepare for this moment.

Actually, I’m humming that tune as I relay a recent event to you.

“Band on the Run” was the actual tune dancing around my head as I made my way to the DMV BMV.

Another license to surrender, another registration to seek, another title to present.

Yes, it was time officially become a lawfully registered citizen of Indy.

Sure, I’ve done this a few times now. It’s supposed to get easier with age and every step state you take.

Setbacks met me on my drive to the BMV as I left part of my life story (SSN, Passport, and your cousin’s info too) in the closet at home.

So, I would be returned home to grab my documents like a school child in trouble to line up with policy.

I returned nourished and more rested clear-headed than I did the hour before.

That setback was the divine providence that allowed me to check in with my wellness and preparation for the book/written exam. Aced it, shazam.

My eyes are still in great shape as I read through a line of words and numbers with great pace.

My new license picture…that’s a story for another day. Apparently, you can’t smile for your photo in this beloved state.

Next up was my registration for voting rights and finding my polling station.

Smooth sailing you would think. Naw, not quite yet. The worker threw a solid brick that did not miss.

“You know that license has to stay here with me today,” she said.

My heart tightened, and a tiny tear in my right eye stung the crease fold.

I belted out a fake but delighted, “Yep, I know.” All the time, my heart ached below.

I never felt attached to S.Carolina, I thought. But, I guess even she made a southern imprint along the way.

I’m a Southern daughter, belle. Filled with grace. I like my breakfast and language direct.

I’ll take my lemonade and affection for others sweet, if you please.

It was yet another rude awakening that day, that on paper, the South could no longer stay.

I am a mid-western local now with a soul as southern as the greatest bbq and college football team will ever reside.

I realized on the drive home, that God is still chiseling away at my identity.

He’s never going to pull the prideful, Southern woman out of me.

But he will state by state get me closer to my destiny.

“I Don’t Know Freedom, I Want My Dreams to Rescue Me”

“I don’t know freedom, I want my dreams to rescue me…apparently”

Those are the words my head bobbed to

as the prose from J.Cole arose through my soul

inviting me to acknowledge a deeper pain from within.

Apparently, my mom, sisters, dad, and a few friends here and there

believed in me.

Apparently, apathy, fatigue, frustration, delirium, and the faceless

haunt of depression departed from recess as my heart began to regress.

Apparently, it was time to stop wishing my dreams would launch me

towards the confines and beauty lines of clear water beaches.

Time crept upon me yet again with my goals far out of heaven’s reaches.

Yeah, that last word was a stretch.

I felt the widening of my heart as my breaths filled with air.

It had been months since I tasted freedom and smelled the aroma of dreams swirling near.

My mind became absorbed by an intruder name fear.

Did I make the right choice. Did I miss an opportunity.

Long-distance travel is not new to me but a rewarding change was overdue to me.

Maybe that was it. Maybe I forgot the cost of freedom or daring to harness a dream.

Perhaps, the ivory tower world in which I work was not too much for me.

It may have been the removal of tension for a while that welcomed naivete.

Life is hard and even harder for some of us.

Rough days happen, people sometimes are unimaginable to deal.

Yet, God reminded me in my toughest moment to keep both hands on the wheel.

l