The Time I Dropped F-Bombs In Front Of Jesus

The day it happened I was an emotional wreck.

I was tired, sad, angry, and frustrated. All at the same time. And I let it rip. I cursed out loud, in private (thank goodness), in front of Jesus. I’m not one to use much profanity but with how I was feeling at the time, it felt warranted. This season has been challenging and there have been times when I have honestly hated it. I haven’t enjoyed the negative ways it’s made me feel. I don’t like how it’s disrupted my sleep. And I really don’t like how it’s robbed me of my hope and my peace. Even before the pandemic hit, I’d been praying and asking God to move in different areas of my life where I wanted to see change and progression. And while I won’t deny that there have been some occasional blessings here and there, at the time I was upset, I wasn’t experiencing the kind of breakthroughs I’ve prayed for, worked for, and waited for.

So the day I dropped those f-bombs during my prayer time was no joke. I was deeply disappointed. And exhausted. And very miserable. The funny thing was the next day after my not so proud moment of crying out to Jesus (with questionable language included) I had just received an email that I won a writing contest and a cash prize for a piece I submitted a little over a month before I fell apart. I wrote an original psalm about everything I was feeling and going through. And that moment reminded me that Jesus hears me. As a Christian, I know I don’t have to be fake with Jesus or silent about my pain. Sometimes I think different Christians struggle with this. They don’t always allow themselves to be raw and honest about how they’re feeling and as a result, they pretend to be okay instead of admitting when they’re not. It’s okay to not be okay. I believe in being honest with yourself and with Jesus. If there’s anyone you can be completely honest with, it’s Him. I was drained the day I let it all out but felt relieved after my moment because I was able to communicate what I was feeling and why I felt the way I did. I know Jesus understands. And while I’m still praying, working, and waiting for breakthroughs in this season, I’m also hitting the refresh button on my faith and looking forward to some positive changes ahead.

The Day I Became A Kidney Donor

About a year ago, I had a dream my dad wanted to talk to our family about something serious. I wasn’t sure what he wanted to discuss, but I knew it was something I needed to prepare myself for. Around the time after I had this dream, I remember stopping by my parents place and sensing something was going on that they weren’t telling me. I tried to dismiss what I’d been feeling, but I couldn’t shake it. Something serious was happening. As I returned to my home after visiting them one day, I was in my kitchen washing dishes when a heaviness hit my heart like nothing I’d ever felt before. Something’s wrong with dad. That’s what that dream was about. God, what’s going on? As I continued washing dishes, I started crying and praying. Then in mid-spring, my dad held an unexpected family meeting that would change all our lives forever. He hesitated at first, and as his voice started cracking and he started crying, he said, “Well, I wanted to talk to ya’ll to tell you that I have kidney disea...

Thoughts From a Black Educator: Qualified, Credentialed, and Constantly Undermined

I’m a Black educator in my fifth year of teaching middle school English, and in my third as the 8th Grade English PLC (Professional Learning Community) Lead. And while I genuinely enjoy the purposeful work I get to do, seeing the growth of my scholars, and continuing to hone my skills in a content area I’ve loved since I was a little girl, I’ve had to confront some unpleasant experiences in this space. I’d been through much worse when I was an academic advisor at a Christian university. Racism, sexism, harassment, and workplace bullying were sadly norms in that environment. However, some of what I’ve experienced as a Black educator hasn’t been normal … It doesn’t seem normal to be the only Black educator in my department – in a predominantly Black school. One of my Black colleagues once said, “It should look like a Tyler Perry movie in here.” But it doesn’t. It didn’t feel normal being reprimanded in a meeting (during my second year of teaching) by an administrator who went in on...

The Day I Made A Will

When I was a teenager, I remember writing a list of my greatest fears. One of the things I listed was death. Looking back, it was an interesting item to list because inevitably, death is something each of us will face at some point in our lives. Even though it’s no longer a fear of mine, I understand why and how it’s not a comfortable thing for everyone to navigate. But regardless, this past summer I completed a detailed will. I signed it, had witnesses sign it, and got it notarized. As I was getting everything done, one of the witnesses looked at me and said, “You know, it’s just that you’re so young…” I’ve learned that death doesn’t care how young or how old you are. You can be five, fifteen, thirty, or fifty, and it’s still something that happens. Completing my will wasn’t scary. It gave me peace of mind having documentation in place stating my detailed directives and requests. A year ago, I had one of my kidneys removed. It was a surgery that came with risks that were presented cle...

Making Waves