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Grace & Grounding: The Gospel of Healing

I Told the Storm

By Shereá Denise

It’s over now. It’s over now.

I feel like I can make it.

The storm is over now.

No more cloudy days.

They’re all gone away.

I feel like I can make it.

The storm is over now.

Song – The Storm is Over Now by Kirk Franklin

 

The first week of practicing surrendering and remaining surrendered was interesting. It was like my co-creators were toying with me. Several of the things that typically trigger my frantic research, messages to physicians, and hyperactive planning occurred. I had to resist the urge to revisit my past habits and not-so-productive coping skills.

 

At some point - possibly in early July (2024) - I began looking at my health changes as storms. This is a comparison often made in the Black church. The idea is that storms do not last forever, but they can be difficult to navigate or understand. Much like storms in nature, our personal storms tend to be more likely in some seasons. We tend to fear them and - while they are happening - it can be difficult to see our way out of them. Oftentimes we have to consider - not only what we are telling ourselves to survive the storms - but what we are communicating to the storm, what we are believing about our survival of the storm. The obvious next question (to me) was: What am I telling the storms in my life? What do my reactions and responses communicate to the storms?

 

This reminded me of Dr. Anita Phillips’ podcast interview with Sarah Jakes Roberts, specifically the part where Minister Roberts said, “How do you build something knowing a hurricane is coming? You build it with the knowledge that storms can come, but also the storm isn't here. And I don't want to start building my life for a storm that may or may not come. I want to enjoy where I am in the present. And so I will make it in some way from each storm. I'll learn how to become a little bit more storm proof for the next time, but I'm still going to live like the storm isn't coming because that's the only way that I can experience the restoration. Otherwise, I start living according to the storm instead of the sun.” I was definitely living according to the storm, allowing it to control entirely too much about my life and keeping me from enjoying the present because I was constantly worried about the next moment or embarrassed by the last.

 

I listened to How to Rest in God (Hey You!) by Dr. Anita Phillips a second time. This time, I paid close attention to the advice she gave about what to do after you make the decision to rest (or surrender). I caught something the second time that I did not recall from before. Dr. Phillips said, “The rest ain’t even got to be comfortable, just lay down.” That spoke to me differently this time. This rest, my surrender was far from comfortable, but her words gave me the encouragement to stick with it… or at least to try to. (References: Genesis 28:18-22, Psalm 121:1-2) 

 

A few days later, as I was changing my calendar at work, I noted that the theme on the calendar for the month of June (2024) had been Prayer. I am not sure how I missed the image at the top of the calendar for all 30 days of June, but the month was certainly filled with prayer for me. Sometimes one-word prayers. Sometimes paragraphs. Most times, questions. Initially I wanted to understand why this was happening to me so that I could stop it. The more I worked towards truly surrendering, I had to pray about that too. More than anything, in moments where things were exacerbated or flare ups were unexpected and unrelenting, I had to pray and/or work through the urge to go back to my old habits of trying to understand the why and control what was taking place.

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Turning the calendar also reminded me of the Prayer for Surrender that I had seen on TikTok in May. I saved the prayer for no particular reason at the time, but it proved to be a useful reminder in late June/early July. Not just because of my health.

 

Over the last several months, I have been experiencing intermittent episodes of pushback in my professional life. At some point I had begun saying, “I can always show you better than I can tell you.” During my first week of surrender I started wondering if God was saying the same thing to me.

 

I started wondering about how quick I was to label abnormal experiences as bad. Years ago I had been instructed to consider how quickly I judged things, even if unintentionally. I was encouraged to try meditations or activities where I recognized things for what they were (like a cloud or a car or an animal) without immediately categorizing it as right or wrong, good or bad. Once I had semi-mastered this with miscellaneous objects, I was encouraged to try it with people, with my own thoughts, and with my own actions or mistakes. I faltered a bit there, moreso with my categorization of my own thoughts, actions, and mistakes than with anything else.

 

I realized that - out of habit maybe - I had started labeling things with my body, like how it had changed with weight loss or the different symptoms that I was having, as good or bad, normal or abnormal. I failed to consider that (1) they should not really be assigned such a category and (2) that my body had undergone such transformation that the things that were happening may not be bad or abnormal. Perhaps some things that I was considering abnormal were just my new normal. Instead of fighting what was different, I may just have to accept that things had changed.

 

In a prior session my Therapist mentioned that she thought I was grieving my health. As I was learning to surrender and to rest I realized that I had had moments of grief about my health, but - much like my emotions about other difficult situations - I had pushed through the feelings to focus on action and resolution. I never really sat with or in the grieving process regarding my loss of health as I have known it, in part because I thought that that would mean accepting that what I hoped was temporary was more of a permanent fixture in my life.

 

While navigating my first week of surrender, a Sarah Jakes Roberts sermon showed up on my YouTube main page. During the sermon (A Fresh Wind, reference: Romans 12:1-2), Sarah Jakes Roberts discusses interruptions and endings, emphasizing how we tend to confuse the two. She breaks down the idea of being renewed by the transforming of our minds, highlighting that we do not have to become our conditions and that our mindset will prove most significant in times of difficulty. Sarah seemed to be talking about more than just praying. Her words seemed to confirm that I needed to work on my mindset. In the midst of episodes and flare ups I had to remind myself that things could be worse. I will be honest, it was in the most difficult times that I really struggled to keep my mind, my eyes, and my hands off my health. As I mentioned earlier, my first week of surrender was riddled with multiple flare ups. After some changes in medication, the flare ups intensified in July. I felt tried, like something higher than me was checking to see just how committed I was to surrendering.

 

Another Sarah Jakes Roberts sermon asked the question: “What is the real test here?” (Own Your Lesson) While listening to the sermon, I started asking myself if my health challenges were a test that actually centered on how I had treated myself historically. Though my health changes (because maybe they were changes, not challenges) were the most obvious issue to me, perhaps they were not the actual test. 

 

Sidebar: I am not a big fan of Bishop T.D. Jakes, but I began watching one of his sermons because it seemed related to the Own Your Lesson sermon. In his sermon he mentioned that we had to start working on getting beyond what is happening to consider why it is happening.

 

In prior posts I mentioned how I had never really listened to or considered my body unless pain was involved. That thought resurfaced. So much of the last 3.5 years had been focused on my body and that was genuinely foreign to me. I had never consistently thought about my body this much unless it was a random series of months where I was focused on losing weight. Then it dawned on me just how much of my life - before and after weight loss surgery - involved me thinking about my body as a burden, as a problem to be solved. Yes, I was thinking about my body more, but not always from a space of consideration. Rather it was frustration about what was happening, concern about how long these problems would persist, or fear that the negative changes would never be resolved and that I would continue to spend my days preparing for an episode or recovering from one.

 

I started reflecting on some of the things I had discussed with my Therapist and some of the thoughts that I had never shared with anyone else. They aligned with some of the things that Bishop Jakes said, particularly the idea that we believe we are going through things alone even though other people are around us. He also said that we have to:

 

  • Understand why we are being attacked, recognizing that the level of attack determines the level of respect, the level of power.

  • Ask God to walk us through the situation.

  • Accept that - sometimes - the best response to the attack is rest because rest implies trusting in a higher power to resolve the situation.

 

If I put my symptoms to the side and sat with what the test was and why it was happening, I had to ask myself a series of questions: Should I be treating myself better? Have I been pushing myself too much for too long? Does this highlight how I have not listened to or trusted my body over the years? I briefly sat with the idea that I needed to not only own the lesson that I had not treated myself well in the past and that I needed to do better going forward. 

 

I considered Sarah’s words about owning who we are in every season, recognizing that - because I was operating as if my self and my body were separate entities - I had not really owned that who I was in this season had health changes, needed accommodations, and needed more self-compassion than I had previously offered myself. As I thought through the injuries I had suffered while going through the challenges with my stomach and my bladder, I had to consider what the injuries signified:

 

  • Foot injury - When thinking about how and/or why this injury happened, it definitely highlighted how I have allowed myself to be inconvenienced by others and/or how I have put more responsibilities on myself than necessary (or required).

  • Shoulder injury - When thinking about how and/or why this injury happened, it made me consider how I continuously overextend myself, oftentimes to my own detriment.

 

Hear me clearly, I had no intention of becoming a Bible scholar nor a walking symbolism dictionary in response to trying to navigate the ways that my life had changed, but the new perspectives that I was being offered were hard to deny or ignore. It dawned on me that I was the person who had been talking about less religion and more relationship. Maybe some aspects of this journey were offering me precisely that. If that was the case, then I had to be honest about the fact that I likely would not have received this perspective or this budding relationship without these challenges occurring in the first place..

 

Though I enjoyed these newfound perspectives and building upon my relationship with my co-creator, there was a part of me that still had to reconcile surrender/rest and quitting/giving up. Quitting is not what I do. It is lost on me. That does not mean that I always win, it just means that I am relentless at times. Some of what kept me uneasy during my surrendering was that I felt like two aspects of myself were battling it out. I had a vested interest in the outcome, but seemed to have no control over it.

 

These new perspectives sent a clear message that I had to consider healing separately from just my medical conditions. It appeared that there may have been more of me that needed healing. I realized that I had not always demonstrated self-compassion or self-consideration. There were parts of me that still were not quite sure how to further explore either of these concepts, but I had a few ideas of where to start.

 

  • Using crystals with more comforting energy than controlling/forceful energy:

    • Rose Quartz:Rose Quartz is, above all else, the stone of love and relationships, which may account for its popularity. Like all varieties of Quartz, it is a universal healing stone versatile in its physical and metaphysical applications. Its vibration is nurturing, gentle, comforting, and reassuring.

    • Amethyst: This stunning purple stone is known for its calming energy and ability to promote relaxation, as well as being believed to aid with spiritual awareness and growth.

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  • Reading/listening to things that are encouraging and uplifting:

 

“Grant yourself permission to relax and savor the stillness. If you attune yourself to the calm around you, worldly distractions will be minimized and the unadulterated flow of your consciousness will reestablish itself in the forefront of your mind. The needs of the body, the heart, and the soul will then be revealed to you, empowering you to tap into the essential healing energy of the universe. The mechanism you use to channel this energy will be dependent on your shifting requirements, so each day of healing you enjoy will be unique. All will replenish you, however, allowing you to recreate yourself in a perfect image of health.” 

–DailyOM

 

“What plagues and pursues us in our minds has a way of manifesting itself in our environment, in the form of people, events, and issues that appear to be beyond our control. But all these external expressions are reflections of our insides, and it is inside ourselves that we can safely experiment with surrendering to what we fear and dislike. It may feel scary, and we may find ourselves in the company of a lot of resistance as we begin the process of opening up to what we fear. But the more we learn to surrender, the more the demons that plague us disappear in the process and the more courageous we will become.”

–DailyOM

 

Donnecia Brown’s reading that focused on ancestral reminders about being relentless and “bossing up.” (When I heard this reading, it was confirmation of a few things. I knew I was being supported through my discomfort. I also knew - if only for a moment - that I would survive whatever came of this.)

 

  • Making note of quotes heard or read:

 

“I can’t afford to give into fear.”

 

“…because your body - in and of itself - is an altar.” –Tatianna Tarot

 

I came across some songs and videos that simply distracted me from all of the processing or that helped me to return to being a more carefree version of myself.

 

 

As I write this post I am reminded of some of the beneficial things that have come from my health changes. There are events and opportunities that I have missed because I needed to rest or because I was in the midst of a flare up, but nothing that was truly for me or that would help me has passed me by. I have learned to be honest with others about limitations, to delegate more often, and to stop myself when I start to over-explain or attempt to justify my absence or modified presence. I no longer apologize for needing to sit down or for needing to make impromptu stops for a restroom break. So many people in my life have proven to be far more considerate, encouraging and supportive than I could have possibly imagined. It has become surprisingly easy to let those who are not go. 

 

Sometimes I wonder if my health changes were intended to play a role in keeping me grounded, in protecting me, in helping me to see what I may have overlooked otherwise. As I was writing this, I heard Beyoncé’s Best Thing I Never Had in my head, specifically the line:

 

Thank God I found the good in goodbye.

–Beyoncé

 

I had to pause for a minute to determine what I was saying goodbye to. Was it my health changes? Was it the exhaustion that came with doing more than surrendering/resting/being?

 

In the same way that I had begun to celebrate canceled plans, I was also learning to appreciate no’s from other people. I was learning to accept that other people’s no’s were sometimes meant to hold a boundary for me that I was failing to maintain for myself. Too often, when I was on the verge of doing too much, I would be met with a hard no that I could do nothing about. 

 

I had to accept that no’s were not code for “try harder,” but maybe to be still a little while longer, remembering when Sarah Jakes Roberts said, “God won’t give you an assignment that He will not empower you to accomplish.” (Power Moves)

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In another sermon, Sarah Jakes Roberts offered insight that led me to reconsider some of the ways that I had reacted and responded to my health changes. The sermon, entitled Push Through, begins by talking about attachment styles and how they show up in our relationship with God. She talked about how - when we are wounded or hurt - we may attempt to punish God. For some, myself included, this looks like establishing distance and/or avoiding God altogether. Sarah talked about the difference between pushing through and pushing away, the importance of connection, and the ability to confront God. She noted that sometimes you need to be confrontational with God, emphasizing that “God cannot comfort what you will not confront.” The biblical example that she highlighted pertained to Lazarus’ death and the difference in his sisters’ reactions. I found this perspective particularly interesting because of how so many churches discourage questioning or confronting God, treating it as disrespectful. In a way, I felt like I had not confronted my co-Creator about how I felt punished and abandoned because of my health changes. I had been pushing through and away. I very much so felt abandoned, guilty (for feeling abandoned), and confused about why all of this was happening to me. I prefer reason, logic, and explanations, so the confusion aspect was sometimes more troubling than anything else. I continued to be exhausted too. I felt like I was constantly preparing for battle, always on guard… but it is hard to battle inanimate things, like your health. At this point I was - more or less - swinging at the air because I could not physically do but so much to take on my health. I wondered if some of this was the root cause of my exhaustion. Constantly being ready for war and having no actual identifiable opponent depletes you.

 

Sarah also mentioned how we create openings in our lives, which make us vulnerable to harm. My first thought was whether my health had created an opening. My second thought was if my frustrations about my health had actually created the opening. Like, maybe my health was not the culprit as much as my reaction to it.

 

In addition to my habit of pushing through and pushing away, I have a tendency to become and remain numb emotionally. While the numbness in my physical being concerned me, my emotional numbness has - for the most part - served me well since I often find myself in areas of employment that involve emergencies and crises. 

 

And, of course Sarah Jakes Roberts has at least one sermon about numbness. Lol.

 

In Blessed, Blind, and Broken, Sarah Jakes Roberts made one specific point that I am continuing to turn over in my mind. The point stemmed from Psalm 51:17, where there is reference to a broken spirit and broken heart being the sacrifices offered to God. Sarah mentioned numbness being a form of brokenness. In my mind, numbness was the absence of anything, particularly any feelings. Perhaps I had been wrong though. Maybe numbness was a coping mechanism for the brokenness and for the weight that accompanied it. The idea of having a broken spirit resonated with me, but - even more so - it made me uncomfortable. It made me feel weak. I had always considered myself rather resilient. To acknowledge having a broken spirit seemed to… change that, to make me a different level of human in my mind. Either I was in denial about the brokenness or I was lying to myself about how resilient I thought I was. I do not know why admitting to feeling or being broken seemed like such a horrible confession, but even considering it was upsetting and… heavy. It only exacerbated the weight of everything that I was carrying - the diagnoses, the emotions, the fear, the anxiety. Even trying to write about this topic was difficult because I lacked the words to fully explain how hard it is to go from being able to bounce back from difficult moments to feeling like every day an unpredicted tornado will leave you with even more to repair or to rebuild, that it will leave you with even less of what you started out with.

 

Additional Tools & Resources

Over the course of this journey, I used and/or implemented a few other things that were recommended to me, but that I have not fully explored in this blog series. Most of the items that are available to be purchased are in Amazon List if you would like additional information about them.

 

 

Death can't shake me.

Job can't make me.

Bills can't break me.

Disease can't take me.

You can't drown me.

My God surrounds me.

That's what I told the storm.

Song – I Told the Storm by Greg O’Quin ‘n Joyful Noyze

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Read Part Seven: Finished Work

Read Part Nine: Shake Loose

Find additional posts and resources here.

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