He said, “If my people, who are called by my name, would just humble themselves and pray.
Oh, pray and believe that their words will be heard by me." 

​​

Song: If My People by Reverend F.C. Barnes & Deborah Barnes
​

While the rest of the nation was celebrating the holiday that comes on the fourth Thursday of November, I was mindlessly scrolling on Twitter with my feet elevated watching Straight Outta Compton. I paused my scrolling when I saw a tweet that said: “Anything can only ever be as big as the box you put it in.” 

 

My first thought was about the size of the box that I may have unintentionally yet intentionally created for God. My second thought was about the box I may have created for my body and my healing. Had I decided what healing would and could be, then confined it to a box that was too small for it?

 

In the weeks leading up to this moment, I had some setbacks with the inflammation in my body. I tried a probiotic for 10 days, but discontinued using it because it sent my body into a painful flare up that kept me in the house for 7 days. The inflammation and burning sensations in my feet, legs, and hip were worse than they had been in quite some time. I tried to treat myself with compassion and not beat myself up for possibly introducing a probiotic (or the wrong probiotic) into my system too soon. My guess was that using a probiotic gummy probably was not beneficial for me because of my body’s reactions to chemicals and preservatives. While there were vegetarian capsules that I could opt for instead, I was cautious about purchasing another probiotic that might just make matters worse.

 

I also tried not to scold myself for not valuing and showing more gratitude for how well I felt in October. I think I was too consumed with the day-to-day aspects of work and life to really be intentionally thankful for the days when my health was not at its worst.

 

In addition to trying a probiotic, I tested out a hemp protein powder in hopes that it would assist with decreasing what I thought was the persistent inflammation in my body while not upsetting my digestive system. I was also actively using a Sweet Ginger Vapor Rub that a close friend had purchased for me. It made sleeping a lot easier at times, but the pain was right back most mornings. 

 

Despite my efforts to continue my grounding practices in the morning, I found my prayers being shortened. Most days, I would just repeat, “Lord, help.” I was hopeful that what the Deacons always say about God knowing your heart was true because I couldn’t find the words or the energy to consistently form full sentences for several days at a time.

 

During this time I started curating some of my social media spaces a little differently. I was holding on to people/followers in the same way that I sometimes hold on to things. A part of me was convinced that I had to start making space. My hope was that - at some point before December 1st - I would have enough energy to clean out my closet, my dresser, and my stash of remedies that I had been collecting over the last four years. This plan was derailed by the lingering pain from the flare-up, but I was still hopeful that it could be accomplished before the end of the year. (Side note: Though it took longer than planned and did not happen on the days I had scheduled it for, the majority of the decluttering was completed by the end of December.)

 

While I was curating my social media spaces, I came across some very interesting Twitter accounts and posts. One of the posts that resonated with me immediately was:

 

Don’t stress yourself out.

God knows what you are facing, and He will provide.

(Reference: @cessadelove)

 

This post made my thoughts about boxes resurface. I understood that I could not create a box big enough for God, but I also understood that my brain seems to function best when I am able to categorize and/or organize things. I did not intend to create a box for God, but my limited obvious encounters with my Higher Power had created somewhat of a workflow whereby certain issues or requests were routed to God and others were assigned to me, to medical providers, etc. I am not sure what made me think I was the person responsible for divvying out assignments, but - in this regard - I was functioning in my healing and spiritual life in a manner similar to how I function at work and with my extracurricular activities. Very solution focused, very goal oriented, very outcome centered. Most importantly, very much so organized and doing my best to remain in control of what I can control. (Yes, I know this flies in the face of all that I learned while reading Power Moves.)

 

At some point I realized that I had not been reading as much and that I had revisited some of my not-so-great habits while my body was not feeling the best. Some of these things - consuming more fast food, not observing my daily practices, endlessly scrolling on social media - do not keep me in the best headspace. I cannot control what is in the food or on the Internet, so I am leaving my body and mind open to unexpected “adjusting” when I do not practice more mindfulness with my attention, my intentions, and my actions.

 

In late November, I decided to pick Power Moves back up. I had about 60 pages left and I hoped that I may be able to finish the book by early December. As I was reading, I made note of the following:

 

• The power of joining forces.

• The power of access.

• The power of moving from fear to faith.

• The power to identify innovative solutions to your problems.

• The power of going from trauma to triumph.

• The power of determining what’s possible/realistic for me.

 

The third point stood out to me the most. I continued to think about the statement that inflammation is fear in the body. Everything I read about inflammation emphasized how it is meant to protect the body when injured, but can sometimes overreact. Truthfully, it sounded a lot like me: Well-intentioned with the occasional misplaced energy.

 

Considering the idea that my body was harboring the fear that I could not always express definitely explained the consistent inflammation. In this moment, my fear of not healing or totally recovering alone was enough to keep my whole body on fire. Luckily my food-induced flare-ups were not as frequent, but when they occurred, it took longer and longer for me to bounce back. From what I recall of my last two flare-ups, I noted that I halted some of my healthier practices and routines while in pain. I found myself revisiting some not-so-good habits in an effort to comfort myself during these exceptionally uncomfortable times. I realized that I was not just trying to comfort myself in the midst of the pain, but to (hopefully) keep my anxiety at bay. During particularly difficult flare-ups, my mindset tended to drift the most. The sadness coupled with the pain and upset created the perfect breeding ground for a different type of fear, not an everyday fear, but a fear about the future. 

 

I recall being told that fear and faith cannot coexist. That lends itself to the idea that - if I found myself fearful - my faith must be in question and/or altogether absent.

 

My prior posts have made reference to the importance of mindset in this journey. When I allow my thoughts to slip too far into the “what ifs” and the “shoulds,” my mind gets stuck there. In order to bring the inflammation and pain in my body back to a more tolerable level, I have to keep my mind in a space where I can process what to do to help myself while remaining encouraged that this current state of being will not be forever for me.

 

Turning back to Power Moves - in the same chapter referenced above - Sarah Jakes Roberts says, “You must first begin by assessing the areas where your mind disagrees with what you've heard about or experienced from God. Where is the disconnect between who you understand God is and who you are? When you begin to confront the area where there is separation between you and God, you directly attack the space that doubt, fear, and dark forces exploit.” 

 

In this moment, the separation between God and I seemed to be most noticeably about my health. On my best days, I tried to keep myself busy to distract myself from the fact that I was in a ridiculous amount of pain. While there was a part of me that felt like Sarah Jakes Roberts was providing me with the roadmap to navigate the land mine that was my fear, there was a louder part of me that felt that I had not arrived at the level of faith that she had just yet. While there were parts of me that believed, there were parts of me that felt like my prayers were just… shots in the dark. It was never that I felt that God did not hear me, moreso that I felt that I was being ignored while God tried to prove a point. This was emphasized by the absence of a solution, a diagnosis, or an effective treatment plan for what was happening in my body. I continued to struggle with being frustrated about the delay in the answer to my many prayers for healing. I felt like I was pestering God. I mean, I was annoying myself with asking all of the time and with repeating myself, but I did not know what else to do. If I stopped asking, did that mean God would think I no longer wanted or needed to be healed from this?

 

Yes, I fully realize that I am analyzing this situation as if God is a human being… but I also realize that I know how to interact with human beings (most of the time) and have not found “the best” way to engage with my Higher Power.

 

I was in a rut. In addition to continuously asking myself questions that I could not answer, I was limited in what I could do for myself. I had to draw the line when I realized how many times I extended the designated social media time limits on my phone. I was distracting myself, but distractions are rarely helpful or productive in times like these. I had to acknowledge and accept my feelings without trying to control or “fix” them.

 

We all know that I am battling various levels of frustration… with myself, with my body, with God. The level of frustration that I have about how long it was taking for either my healing to happen or a diagnosis to show up was only rivaled by my fear of the diagnosis being something terminal and my annoyance with how little I was able to get done while recovering. 

 

The last five weeks of the year were like one long flare-up. I was - for the most part - working or confined to my bed with my phone, a book, and the television. Everything on my calendar that I had hoped to do or complete was being delayed, delegated, or deleted. I guess my therapist’s recommendation to use the Eisenhower Matrix came in handy.

 

“Let's face it - many of us are striving for awards that don't exist. We push ourselves to be 'Most Perfect', say 'Yes' to everything, never ask for help, work ourselves to the bone, and expect to live mistake-free. But in reality, there's no trophy for burnout or overextending ourselves. It's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that being exhausted is a sign of success or that we need to meet every expectation placed on us. Remember, you don't need to win an award for working the most hours or making no mistakes. What matters is taking care of yourself and knowing that you're enough just as you are - flaws and all. Your worth isn't measured by how much you do, you are enough.”

–HappinessProject

 

Regardless of my feelings about my health and my recovery, I fully understood that neither frustration nor fear would genuinely help me in this moment. That thought was underscored by a few affirmations that were posted by @j_ivory:

 

• I detach myself from fearful thoughts. I connect myself to higher, more courageous thoughts. I have the power to change my life.

• Everyday life is bettering me in some way. Prosperity, peace and abundance is aligning with me. Goodness and Mercy is following me.

• There is so much more for me to be. I focus all my energy on accomplishing my goals because everyday it pays off.

• I allow faith and optimism to take the lead. I make room for blessings to surprise me.

 

Despite my frustration, I found encouragement in Sarah Jakes Roberts saying, “You should make it a part of your routine to find time to live in the reality that the all-powerful, all-knowing, and ever-present God desires to dwell with you. He is there regardless of your weaknesses, ignorance, or disengagement.”

 

There was something that stood out about her discussion of the power that each of us hold to identify innovative solutions to our problems. In short, Sarah was telling us not to allow complaints to become the conclusion. It seemed like she was saying to me that being afraid was not the solution and that it would not get me closer to the solution. 

 

As I was reading the prompts, I noted a question about coming up with solutions to address what I had identified as a problem in my life. I was drawing a blank about what to do about my health. I pride myself on being a creative problem solver at work, so the fact that my attempted solutions were either not innovative enough or just altogether ineffective was baffling and - you guessed it - frustrating.

 

Part of me thought that I should try not to see these health challenges as a problem, but - in this moment - that is what they seemed to be. It was my least favorite kind of problem because there did not appear to be an obvious solution or strategy to resolve it. I had tried everything I knew to try, everything that I had been told to try, and many of the things suggested by spiritual practitioners. It seemed very much above me and that made me feel… helpless.

 

Sitting in the helplessness made me wonder if my health actually was not the biggest problem, just the most obvious one.

 

Sarah Jakes Roberts also said, “What if we spent less time trying to get rid of the weight we're carrying and more time trying to figure out why God chose us to carry it in the first place?”

 

Just a day before reading that question, I saw an Instagram post from Tabitha Brown where two significant points were made:

 

• When comparing her upcoming surgery to the terminal illness of her mother, Auntie Tab thought to herself, “At least I can be repaired.”

• She spoke of something that her mother said to her, which she continued to hold onto as she prepared for surgery, “God trusted me with this.”

 

In addition to asking myself to consider innovative solutions and why God chose me for this particular experience, I had to wonder what it was that God had trusted me with. Most days this problem seemed too big for me to solve and too heavy for me to carry. I am not sure how I signed up to be one of God’s strongest soldiers, but I was ready to relinquish that responsibility. I have not run from a challenge in quite some time, but - if I could outrun whatever this is - I definitely would.

 

I circled back to the ideas from my prior blog posts about how some of this was intended to strengthen my relationship with God and some of it was likely meant to encourage me to take better care of myself, but - truthfully - while dealing with this current amount of pain, neither of those reasons seemed like the best justification for what I was battling. It did not feel like I was chosen, moreso that I was being punished.

 

While resting and (hopefully) recovering from the most recent flare up, I found myself watching random movies and tv shows. Somehow I ended up watching Sparkle, a movie that is both enjoyable and traumatizing for me. I found myself in tears at the end of the movie when Jordin Sparks started singing One Wing.

 

“Feels like I'm running out of time 

and I've got a whole lot of things on my mind.

I'm walking around in the dark 

trying to find just a little bit of sunshine.

I did everything to make it work, but still I'm all lost.

Now I'm on the run with my life waiting to take off but I…

Can’t fly with one wing.

Heaven, I'm gonna need some help.”

 

It was something about calling on Heaven for help that unleashed a slew of emotions that I did not realize I had. Despite saying something similar each morning, hearing it sung unexpectedly brought tears to my eyes, tears that I think were a combination of frustration, confusion, and exhaustion.

 

After I got myself somewhat together, I decided to revisit some of the screenshots that I had been saving while recuperating and scrolling:

 

• “Our minds are like vibrant, ever-changing gardens. Every thought is a seed, taking root and shaping how we feel and act. When the garden flourishes with positivity, creativity, and calm, life feels expansive. But when the weeds of sadness, anxiety, and self-criticism grow unchecked, it can feel overwhelming and restrictive. Yet, like a gardener nurturing plants, you have the power to tend your mind, cultivating thoughts that inspire growth and transformation. Both Buddhism and cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) remind us that “you are what you think.” Simple practices like mindfulness and reframing your inner dialogue allow you to care for your mental garden with intention. The next time a self-critical thought arises, visualize it as a weed. You don’t need to fight it. Simply redirect your attention to a thought that feels more nourishing, like gratitude or self-compassion.”  –DailyOM

• One of my cousins posted on Facebook and the last line of her post said, “…always remember that your struggle is your chapter not your story so keep writing.”

• A post on Twitter said, “Not all storms come to disrupt your life. Some come to clear your path.”

• Another Twitter post said, “People are going to know that God is real because of your story. Keep going.”

• “Don't let the struggle define you—let it refine you.” –Brad Lea

 

I thought about the fact that I had seen at least six references to or posts about Isaiah 60:22 in the last month. While I initially wanted to find comfort in the scripture and dig into its meaning, I kept getting caught up on the word “swiftly.” Almost four years does not seem swift to me. As I had that thought it was immediately followed by the thought that I do not determine God’s timing.

 

Part of me recognized that this series of thoughts demonstrated that I was becoming impatient again. It seemed like the pain and fear made it easier to do so. I could see how I was losing sight of the good from my last blog post the more intense my pain became. It dawned on me that that was something that was at least partially different in the month of October, I was actively trying not to rush myself or God. 

 

I received confirmation about exercising patience in multiple ways over the next several days:

 

• “Your ego forces an answer; your intuition smoothly waits.” –Lalah Delia (Reference: https://x.com/lalahdelia/status/1868139892863287361?s=46) 

• Facebook post: “Are you praying for something that's taking longer than you thought or expected? No matter how long you may have been standing on God's promises, don't give up! Your season is coming. Your harvest of blessing is on its way. It might be today, it might be tomorrow, it might be next week, next month or next year; but remember, at just the right time, you will experience your breakthrough.”

 

While I am gaining a greater appreciation for resting and actively trying to trust God more, I realize that - for me - it is important to act on the ideas given to me, as I assume that I have them for a reason. Perhaps it’s God. Perhaps it’s all of the research that I had done before. 

 

“…we must look within for both the source of our difficulties and the solution. Reacting to the situation by getting upset will only entrench us more deeply in it. Only by disengaging, becoming still, and going within can we begin to see what has hooked us into the mess in the first place. We will most likely find unprocessed emotions that we can finally fully feel.”

–DailyOM

 

In early December I decided to make some additional dietary changes and to begin researching Isaiah 60:22 further.

 

With regards to the dietary changes, I started including blueberries in my morning smoothies to control bladder inflammation, switched to a different brand of gluten free oatmeal, limited my consumption of eggs and focused on using egg whites instead, and I tried drinking the Anti-Inflammatea that had gone viral on TikTok. Though all of these changes were not completely effective, I was able to decrease the inflammation and the pain enough to return to work without any major complications. 

 

I decided that - over the next several weeks - I would start incorporating Moringa capsules, a histamine blocker, and an omega 3 supplement into my daily routine. I felt that it would be beneficial to revisit using almond protein powder and some of the other practices that seemed to benefit my body in the month of October

 

I did not know that any of these changes would help to heal my body, but I knew that I had prayed for guidance and these ideas had shown up. While I wanted to believe that I could truly and fully heal myself with the support of my spiritual cheering squad, I knew that I had to find the balance between taking action and becoming obsessed - again - with figuring out what was happening to and in my body. This meant that I had to find my place in the spaces where rest, trust, and action intersect.

 

As I was writing this post, it occurred to me that the last four years have shown me that I typically only rest when I am forced to or when I am willing to trust God to handle what I cannot handle. That thought led to a slew of other thoughts that I was not expecting. The top three being:

 

• Maybe part of the ease that came in October was me being more trusting. When my health faltered, my trust wavered, and led to several days of being stuck in the rut of not feeling nor being well.

• This thought implied that - to some degree - I was able to trust God and not confine Him when I actively chose not to.

• I preferred to rest from a space of trust rather than from one of recovery. 

 

It is possible that my health was just a symbol of the disconnect between God and I, or maybe the catalyst to help me realize what the disconnect was. In truth, it seemed that the issues with my health, my fear, my certainty were all still primarily about faith and trust.

 

No matter how many different ways I examined this issue and no matter how many times I have acknowledged my struggles with trusting anything that I consider external, I knew that I was going to have to work through this a little bit more.

 

Breaking down the concept of trust for what felt like the tenth time, I found my way to Beyoncé’s internet to see what Google had to say. 

 

Oxford Languages defines trust as the “firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strength of someone or something.” Oddly enough, this definition reminded me of what I believed that the word faith meant. It was not until I began experiencing the changes to my health that I genuinely realized that trust and faith were so closely connected. Oxford Languages defines faith as “complete trust or confidence in someone or something.” While having trust and faith in myself was important, I knew that I could not solely rely on myself, no matter how much I wanted to believe that I could. Situations - like what was happening with my body - were a clear indication that I had to trust in more than myself because solely relying on self and the way that I handle things had possibly caused some of the issues that I was experiencing.

 

The Google AI Summary feature proved helpful as well. The summary noted that the Bible says that God is trustworthy and in control in all situations. It also provided some Bible verses about trusting God:

 

• Proverbs 3:5-6

• Psalm 33:4

• Psalm 62:8

 

Upon reading them more closely, Proverbs 3:5-6 and Psalm 62:8 seemed the most relevant to me. I was extremely prone to leaning on my own understanding. I was also prone to having trust that wavered, typically when not-so-good things happened that I did not clearly understand. There was something to be said for how submitting and “all” are referenced in Proverbs. I cannot honestly say that I consistently trust God with all my heart nor that I submit in all of my ways. In fact, just reading those phrases makes me side-eye my phone.

 

Looking more closely at Isaiah 60:22 and its connection to trust and faith, I found that many who seek to explain this verse emphasize trusting God’s timing and accepting that God has a plan. This verse reads differently than Jeremiah 29:11, though. While the book of Jeremiah tells us that there is a plan, the book of Isaiah is telling us that there is a plan, but we will be unable to wrap our minds around the plan or the timing because it is God’s plan and God’s timing, which are essentially above our pay grade.

 

Being told to deal with what is happening to (or for?) me without being able to do anything about it is - yep, that’s right - frustrating. I am tired of creating a different plan every morning to get through the day without incident and in spite of being in a continuously fluctuating amount of pain. What initially seemed like an interesting puzzle to solve or a particularly individualized Rubik’s Cube is no longer enjoyable, in part because I no longer see any progress or improvement. The truth is, I am tired of not being well. I am tired of being equal parts cautious and hopeful. I just want answers, a treatment plan, and to feel better. I am not sure if I am being forced into surrender or if I have just not managed to pull myself out of my flare-up-induced rut from a month ago, but - either way - this is the truth of where I am. I am too tired to continue fighting whatever this is. I am not sure if God accepts forced surrender in exchange for trust, but that is all I seem to have at this point.

 

Yes, I realize that I am treating much of this in a very transactional way. I fully see how I am bartering with God and my spiritual cheering squad for my healing, but I am not sure what else to do. Reasoning, prayer, and medical visits have yet to work. So, here we are…

 

Another thought that stems from my upbringing in the Black Church? I still - to a degree - believe God to be someone or something separate from me… and part of me cannot trust God completely because I have become overly self-reliant. Though I had become more comfortable with communicating with God, I still considered most of those conversations to be with an external source. I was unsure of how to change that way of thinking. Regardless of the many social media posts indicating that we are one with God and/or that we are what we have been looking for, I could not seem to break the habit or change the thought pattern that God was an outside force.

 

These thoughts continued rolling around in my brain while I watched the end of Wicked and noted how - in the scene with the broom - there was so much trust that had to exist for Elphaba. She had to trust her Higher Power and herself enough to exist in her truth and to begin flying with a broom after plummeting through her past and her childhood trauma.

 

The hard truth is that - because I do not see God as part of me - I cannot trust Him but so much. That means that, while I am praying for God to handle it, I am also planning to handle it myself. 

 

Since my health had started changing, there were times when I was consumed with over planning, with handling things myself. My professional experience in working with those who have been traumatized helped me understand that my level of planning was a trauma response. Despite my extensive professional training and the coping skills learned during my therapy sessions, this trauma response is still what comes most naturally to me. I have gone for periods of time with and without over planning, only to find myself right back in inexplicable pain and discomfort.

 

Maybe part of the lesson in all of this is not just about evaluating and determining what is internal, but also about deciding how much energy I should give to what is truly external. At this point I have to accept that the external tends to be what is outside of my control and that fighting the water will not keep me afloat. I cannot force things into my control and I cannot plan my way into healing. 

 

On December 26, 2024, I saw an Instagram post from Amber Cabral that summarized so much I was feeling about the last few years, about the concerns and the evaporating hopefulness that I had going into 2025:

 

“A week from the new year and l've decided to give up stress and anxiety for 2025 instead of choosing a

"word of the year."

 

I fought all 2024 long. For work. For growth opportunities. For weight loss. For rest. For ease. For visibility (the right kind). For my hair. For what to put on social media. Against grief. For love. For fair.

 

Pick a mkn battle, I fought it.

 

And in a lot of cases, I won.

 

But despite winning battles, I realized I was losing the war.

 

I won't go into the myriad of ways I know this, because a lot of you are losing the war too. Deepening the creases in your foreheads, wearing your shoulders as earrings, managing throbbing knots in your back and complaining about being unable to lose the same few pounds. I see you.

 

And also I can confirm fighting isn't a long term strategy.

 

It's better for sprints and we are in a multi year marathon.

 

So, there will be some changes to how I show up both online and in the world - though I imagine that you might have already figured that out.

 

Less anxiety.

Less stress.

Lots of resources.

All for the same goal: our collective freedom.”

 

The parts about losing wars and showing up differently hit close to home for me. Amber is right, fighting (or - in my case - planning) is not a long-term strategy. I continued to think about how I felt like I was losing such a major battle with my body, about how I had done so much in the name of not giving up only to feel like I was making matters worse. It seemed like there was no particular food or supplements that I had taken that had helped me feel well in October. The only thing that seemed to make sense about that period of time was how I focused on resting. I was going to have to - yet again - shift how I was showing up.

 

These thoughts were heavy on my mind as I showed up for my first hormone injection on December 27, 2024. From what my OB/GYN had determined, my testosterone was low and had been for more than a year. I found myself trying to actively control my hopefulness that this injection may be the magic cure for all that was ailing me, as well as my concerns that this injection may make things worse. 

 

Regardless of the outcome, I was beginning to - again - make peace with the idea that I would have to try new things to recover and that I could not continue on this pendulum of caring too much and not caring at all if I was going to remain grounded despite the chaos happening in my body and - at times - happening around me. 

 

I had to rediscover the balance that I had found before and much of that balance seemed tangled up in faith and rest. Something told me that I did not have to understand faith fully to have it. Perhaps I had prayed enough. Perhaps it was time to revisit what I was practicing in October, not what I was eating.

 

I skimmed my post, Standing On the Promises, to determine what my mindset had been in October. The part about the Human Healing Unlocked video reminded me of a quote I had seen recently in a “Word of the Year” post by Morgan Harper Nichols. The word that my phone captured was Nurturing. The caption said: “May there be room for you to take the time to do things that heal your heart and help you grow, because in the same way you would nurture a plant that was worthy of care, it also matters to be gentle with yourself while you wait for something new to bloom.”

 

“When we look back on our lives, we can see that we have survived many trials and surmounted many obstacles, often to our own amazement. In each of those instances, we had to break through our beliefs about how much we could handle and go deeper into our hidden reserves. Think of it like a frozen lake: It appears impenetrable, but when we break through it, we find a deep reservoir. When we break through the thought that we don’t have more to give or to even fall back on, we can find a well of energy and inspiration trapped beneath. Sometimes we break through by cutting a hole in our resistance with our willpower, and sometimes we melt the ice with compassion for our predicament and ourselves. Either way, each time we break through, we reach a new understanding of the strength we store within ourselves.”

–DailyOM

 

The following day I stumbled upon a video that I previously shared from Brittainy Noel. In the video Brittainy said, “The hardest thing I ever had to do was stop fighting.” While my health had not fully improved, I knew that I could not wear myself out with fighting and planning in 2025 as I had for the last four years. I did not have four more years of constant and intensive planning and anxiety left in me.

 

As if on cue, a song that I have mentioned in this series before began playing in my head:

​

Tell me, what do you give when you've given your all 

and it seems like you can't make it through?

Well, you just stand. 

When there's nothing left to do, you just stand.

Watch the Lord see you through.

Yes, after you've done all you can, you just stand.

 

Song: Stand by Donnie McClurkin

​

 

Read Part Fourteen: Healing Out Loud

Read Part Sixteen: Coming Soon

Find additional posts and resources here.