There is Hope in her, Part 3
My supervisor had just given me a supreme revelation, leaving me with a giant task in which I had no idea where to start. I could mention how, from 2010-2013, I tried periodically and failed to write. I put it off because I was discouraged by those around me, unmotivated to write, and had no direction as to which way to go. It’s funny how God will protect your gift and hold off on allowing you to birth it when He knows the time is not right. I was unable to write anything productive during that time, but there was not a day that I can recall the idea that didn’t linger in my mind. That’s how I know it was something meant for me to do.
By November 2013, I had tried to forget about whatever ideas I had of writing. But, God wouldn’t let me forget… I can’t remember the date specifically, but while working in the local hospital, I once again was reminded of my assignment. A few of my then coworkers could probably recall this day because I came back into the office completely freaked out by my encounter…
While standing in line at the hospital’s coffee stand, a man- well dressed with a hospital badge placed where it made it too awkward for me to read the information on it- approached me. I do not recall the details of the conversation, only that I was trying to be nice while I waited on my iced coffee. I assumed he was an administrator of some sort. After friendly small talk, he asked if I ever considered training in the area of pastoral care. At this point, I was like… “Ok, here we go again! (eye roll) He’s gotta be crazy… What is his name?!”
As I kindly declined and attempted to walk away, he gave me his card and gave me a website to look into. He left me with the instruction to email him once I looked at the website. I took the card, went back to my department and mentioned the encounter to my coworkers.
I also casually mentioned why I thought it to be odd for him to say the things he said while recalling the conversation from 2009. With their encouragement, I read the card and visited the site. What I found was information about the man I have spoken to and learned he was the head guy of the pastoral department and the site had information about specialized training/school ministry!
In my head, I immediately regretted being dismissive of his suggestion but, in response to my coworker’s questioning, I laughed it off and shut down the computer.
Secretly, I was freaking out- "I am too young for this! I am not ready for that! Clearly, he got it wrong!”
The more I thought those things, the more I believed them, and the easier it was to forget it happened.
I threw away the card.
Its seven years later, and here I am. Writing again, having found hope to move past life events that I felt had previously defined me. Now, I am more confident than ever in my ability to walk the purpose I have tried to avoid for so long. My journey came complete with roadblocks, mountains, detours, and dead ends, but through writing, prayer, resiliency, and a genuine desire to move past places where I felt I fell short, I was making it. There have been disappointments, dream killers, and even my own self-defeating doubt, but still, seven years later, I’ve made it to this point and I’m excited to share my latest endeavor with the world. *PAUSE* For the second time in this post, I have mentioned that it has been 7 years later! 7… SEVEN YEARS! If it had resonated by now, 7 is the biblical meaning of completion and perfection. From what I have learned, it derives much of its meaning from being tied directly to God’s creation of all things. To me, even as I write this, it conveys that the whole mission of mine is right on time. I am here doing this at the EXACT moment I should be. eight years ago or even three to six years ago- my story wasn’t complete. I wasn’t ready to handle the task God had in store for me. Sometimes, even today, I don’t believe I am ready but, He does. So I will follow his lead. But, I digress…
Hope In Her, a brand, a platform that’s created a safe haven for women of color (WOC) to share stories of trauma, encouragement, and support for one another.
Living life after trauma is hard, extremely hard, but what I have learned, is that as women, black women particularly, we try to keep living every day as if we’re unaffected. We fight, push, and endure every burden bestowed upon us and we continue to maneuver through life as if we’re strong enough to handle it by ourselves. It’s no secret that Black women, so common are the ones who suffer in silence. Generations of minority women before us have conditioned us to suffer in silence, to never speak of hardships, as a way to avoid the shame that lies in perpetual suffering.
So, here I go, choosing Hope. Not only in myself but in other women who look like me.
Join me on this journey of having... JUST. MORE. HOPE.
*This post was originally published on Oct 16, 2016 on www.hopeinher.com
