Beginning your spiritual journey is no easy feat. Though rewarding, it's easy to go astray. Between being confused about what spirituality truly is (don't worry, I help you understand the true tea about spirituality, here), not understanding what God wants you to do, and doing the internal work that it takes to completely change your heart from its worldly conditioning, the whole process can be a bit overwhelming. I know; I've been there. In my journey, I've used the following tricks to help me secure my footing in this wild ride of spiritual development. Hopefully it helps you, too!
Join a life group
When I began my journey, I was part of a spiritual development group that focused on spiritual principles of womanhood. Every 1st and 3rd Saturday we met and were taught things necessary to our growing in Christ. We were held accountable by the leader and each other. This group helped me think critically about The Word, and my positioning in the body of Christ. I was able to reach out to whomever may have more knowledge than me (at that time I had none), and get my questions answered. This is important when beginning your journey. It's the moment when you actually LEARN what it means to develop yourself spiritually. Having people to lend an ear, and advice, makes the journey a bit easier. It also helps you learn more than you could have on your own. Now, I participate in life groups through church. These are similar, but the structure is a bit different. At my life group we come together as sisters in Christ and share stories, testimonies, and encourage each other toward Christ-like living. While it's not as 'curriculum' heavy, it still helps develop us as women after God's own heart.
Read books
A lot of Christians encourage us to read the Bible when we first begin our journey; and while...duh!...many fail to acknowledge how challenging reading the Bible is - especially for first time explorers. Instead, I urge beginning saints to read books that focus on your identity as a Christian, your relationship with Christ, and books that help you dive into the content of the Bible (i.e study bibles). I just started becoming better at interpreting The Word, recently, and I've been on this journey for 5 years. It's hard to expect someone who's newly exploring spiritually to understand Biblical principles, without additional help. Especially considering that new things in the Bible strike us differently depending on where we are in our lives and our respective journeys.A Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren, is one of my favorite books of the genre. This was the first book I read when I began my pursuit, and changed how I viewed my life and presence on this earth. And quite honestly, without it, I'm not sure I'd be where I am in this journey. I refer this book to everyone who comes to me to begin this pursuit. I have a shelf full of other great reads, too. If you ever need a book recommendation, let me know. I got you, sis!
Start small
It's admirable to want to dive in head first when we first obtain salvation. We want to cut out cussing, stop drinking liquor (even wine), pray long hours, fast for many days, and completely leave our old selves behind. While the desire to make such huge changes so swiftly can be exciting, it's the easiest way to get burned out. Much like dieting, when you start by focusing on everything you can't have/do, you start to regret the decision because it's so far from the life you were accustomed to. Spirituality - and spiritual development - is a lifetime activity. It is not a crash diet to help you grow in 20 days. It's a lifetime worth of focus, and dedication, and work. Because of this, I encourage everyone to take it slow, first. To start by spending 10 minutes with God, before jumping into all-night prayer services. To set realistic restrictions, not ones that will tire you out before you even begin. The further you grow in Christ, the more convicted you will be to live right; but that conviction will only come with consistency. After a while you will no longer have to write a list of things to not do, your spirit will remind you each day.Don't exhaust yourself too soon. Know that every bit of this process is a process, and rushing into it won't make it any easier.
Connect to a gospel song
This has helped me most when I grew weary or felt like quitting. Music is a gateway to my soul, and being intentional about what I choose to pour into my soul is incredibly helpful. Think about how you feel after listening to your favorite Trey Songz album - your carnal self is ready to send a late night text. Think about how much listening to Keyshia Cole after a breakup heightens your sadness. The same premise is true with Gospel music. What you listen to can (and typically does) affect your mood. It's why you get hyped up listening to the Bad Boy 20th Anniversary album on Apple Music (or is that just me?).Choosing to fill your spirit with God music - especially during hard times - allows you to refocus your energy and emotions on what matters: God's goodness. Pick your favorite gospel song and listen away! Mine is 'Still Amazed' featuring Jason McReynolds. No matter what mood I'm in, or what I'm going through, that song reminds me to constantly be amazed my God's love, grace, and mercy in my life. It makes me cry every.single.time., and gets me right back in order when I start to veer away.
The following is an excerpt from DEAR QUEENS' October e-mail newsletter. To receive this monthly magic straight to your inbox, click here.
Are you willing to give up everything for what God promised you?
This question provoked confrontation that I didn't expect to be met with on that rainy Monday evening. It was presented at the end of a dynamic conversation about trusting God. Eight black women surrounded the table to share testimonies and insight about the burdens and breakthroughs of trusting God. Many had triumphant stories to share. Me, I was there to absorb what they were pouring out.
This season – this entire year, really – has been incredibly challenging for me. This isn’t the first time I shared that; and I’m not sure that it will be the last (though I am hoping it will). It’s a truth that I’ve begrudgingly come to accept. "This is how my 2017 will be, I guess," I thought to myself month-after-month.
I wasn't sure how this process fit into God's promise for my life; it felt more like misery, to me. I often challenged Him on it. Sometimes I scolded Him for it. But I stayed diligent in the reality that this is what I must endure—so endure I shall.
Then Lisa asked that question and my entire heart sunk. I was conflicted.
Are you willing to give up everything for what God promised you?
Did I want God’s will? Yes, I’d be crazy not to.
But did I really want God’s will? No. I knew that by my hesitancy. I wasn't willing to give up everything for it. I felt like God had already stripped me of much, but losing everything to pursue His promise? I don’t know about that, God. At least not for the promise I was currently in pursuit of. Not through what I've had to go through already. I wasn't willing to get any lower than I already was. Not for this.
Then I did an honest evaluation. One separate from my very temperamental emotions. One that was straight-up real.
Did I really want God's promise for my life? HECK YEAH! But this process was hard. So hard. And because of that, I was willing to convince myself that I didn't. For eight months I told myself that His promise isn't "worth it". That I never wanted it. That I didn't care if He fulfilled it or not. For eight whole months I spoke against the very thing God wanted to bring into my life because the way He chose to deliver it knocked me off my feet (in a bad way).
Truth is, I wanted it then and I want it now. Yes, I'd give it all up to get it. And, despite what I say outloud to convince myself otherwise, I realized, in that moment, the role my hurt has played on me receiving the will of God. I recognized how much—despite feeling like I've been obedient—I've been standing in my own way. I acknowledged that it's time to stop letting the hurt I've experienced force me to disregard it.
FIX YOUR HEART.
The only explanation for my disregard for God's promise, one I so desperately wanted a year prior, was that my heart was still hurt. The pain from the journey was still so real. The pursuit was still sucking the life out of me. I was exhausted. Weak. Frustrated. All of that sat in my heart and tainted every vision I had for my future. For God's will. It wasn't that I didn't want it, it's that my heart wasn't right. My heart wasn't in a position to receive it.So what is your heart like? Are you convincing yourself out of the will of God? Are you so hurt by your circumstance that you've begun dismissing God's promise? Are you so weary, that you'd rather stray?
If you don't earnestly want God's will, you won't wholeheartedly pursue it. But to operate outside of His will is to diminish the true essence of your creation. It's to deny God the right to do in you what He put you here for. To dismiss His plan for your life is to tell God that it is not good enough; or that you are not sufficient enough. It's an insult to His beautiful creation (you) and His omnipotence. And it turns to all of this because you allowed your feelings to control your faith. Because you let your circumstance dictate what your forever would look like, despite what God already showed you. Because you allowed yourself to trust your condition more than your Creator.
Are you willing to give up everything for what God promised you?
In that moment it all made sense. It wasn't me, it wasn't my situation, it wasn't even the other party(ies) involved; it was my heart. The hurt that I'd been experiencing. The pain that I'd been desperately trying to fight. The lies I'd been telling myself about why it didn't work, why it never could work, and why I didn't want it to work. I had to let go of the limiting thoughts my carnal mind constructed and get honest with myself. Brutally honest. Faithfully honest.
Zora Neale Hurston said it best "there are years that ask questions, and years that answer”. Ironically, the question that was asked, was also the answer I'd been seeking.
So I pose the same quandary to you: Are you willing to give up everything for what God promised you? Or does your heart need a little fixin', too?
With love,
Z.
P.S - Thank you Dae, for reminding me that no matter how loud I scream a lie, it is still a lie. No matter how hard I try to convince myself of something that isn’t true, my heart will always know, and feel, the truth.
P.P.S - This will be the last time I share about the exhaustion of this season. Because now, my tongue is only claiming victory. As always, I thank God for this revelation.
I sat in the break room and listened to the sound of the clock as the seconds passed. The ticking was therapeutic. The rhythmic sound eased the frustration I had been experiencing all week. It was every bit of the solace I needed to continue my day in my right mind.
Over the years I learned a thing or two about the power of silence. About the beauty of stillness. About the peace that lies right beneath settling into one's existence. Not doing anything, not thinking anything.
It's one of the greatest things I learned to do during a people of color meditation event. How to exist in your body as a person of color trying to identify their inner voice without the microaggressions we experience as a result of our colored bodies. Utilizing stillness through the attention it takes to feel your skin, your limbs, your toes without actually touching them. To experience what breathing feels like. To feel the rising and sinking of your chest without looking at it. To allow yourself the time to feel your lashes tap against your bottom lid when you blink. And while I know there must be questions about how anyone can ease chaos with stillness — how is it even possible to find time to be still amidst chaos — the answer is simple: you just do.
Stillness: the absence of movement or sound. It's literally just existing; being present in the body. But in order to do that — to merely exist — you must allow yourself the time to do so. You must be intentional about being gentle to oneself. Of being patient, and kind, and caring to what you're going through. Being understanding of your need to do so; to silence yourself and everything around you and just be. You must give yourself the time, and love, and space to be still.
So, amidst all that you're going through, I urge you to step away. I encourage you to find a quiet space at work, in your home, or at the park, and fix your mind to silence all the distractions around you. Don't think about the distractions (the more you think about them, the more present they'll be), allow them to merely exist. Don't put your mind on anything in particular, rather allow it all to just happen around you. The butterfly that touches your nose, the fly that just buzzed past your ear, allow it all to just be. Feel the air. Experience a deep breath. Feel the wind softly caress your spine. Become one with your being, separate from all that you're dealing with. Recenter yourself to your true essence of existence.
In the moments of chaos? Especially in the moments of chaos.
In the moments you feel there's no time to step away. In the moments where your to-do list is overflowing and your inbox has 100+ unread messages. In the moments your phone is ringing off the hook. In the moments the kids are jumping off the wall. In the moments your boyfriend is being needy. In the moments your boss is hounding you for the report you just found out about. Learn when to flee. Learn when it's time to shut your laptop and take a coffee break. Learn when it's time to do a lap around the parking lot. When it's time to stop answering the phone and stop responding to e-mails. And learn when it's most necessary to use your lunch to sit in silence, instead of run those errands. Your mind, body, and spirit will be grateful...so will your productivity.
The sound of the wall clock calmed my anxiety. It brought my racing thoughts from 1,000 to 10. And, since then I've been practicing the art of stillness. I've been making my acquaintance with being gentle, and patient, and kind, and soft to myself. Because I've learned that there is no emergency greater than the one that threatens my peace.
It's odd to pen a piece like this immediately after publishing one about pleasing God. But see this very post is about God. It's about the subconscious plight of letting God fight my battle. I tried to read all my inspirational posts. I tried to excuse myself from my utter desire to give up. But nothing helped. Nothing was good enough to curve my feeling of defeat. Nothing was worth it anymore.
I spent 7-months talking myself out of this decision. I told myself I was stronger than that. Yelled to myself that God made me for this. And convinced myself—time and time again—that God would pull me out of this. That He would do what's right. That in the palm of His hands would be the end of this battle. That in His hands would be my victory.
I've never been this exhausted. Never felt this depleted. All the words the world once offered me no longer meant anything. I spent 7-months reciting words that no longer provided comfort. 7-months of meaningless sentiments and empty promises. 7-months of expecting things to change. Of expecting some type of breakthrough. Of expecting this condition to get better. 7-months of fighting everyone, everything, even myself, with a hopeful heart of a better tomorrow. 7-months of pain in anticipation of healing. Of a future. Of God's promise.
7-months later and the same pain existed. I hadn't heard from Him. Hadn't seen Him. Barely experienced Him. God was working in the background when I wanted Him to be on the frontline. Have you ever had to fight a battle like that? It's like when you tell your parents you need help but they believe you're strong enough to push through. Why the hell does God think so highly of me?, I asked myself. He'd never leave me, I know. But over these last few months my sobs have drowned out the praise I used to keep myself lifted, and the pieces of my pain have spilled onto the space I used to pray. I couldn't figure out why I was in this battle, but I knew that if God wasn't going to take me out of it, then I would take myself out. I was going to exercise the only power I had and withdraw myself.
And that's exactly what I did. I removed myself from a 7-month battle that I never wanted to fight. A fight that I'm sure would've made me an even better woman, had I stuck it out. Had I been willing to set my limbs on fire and stay in this cave. But I couldn't, and I didn't. So I gave up my fight. Gave up my hope. Gave up everything I had; everything my fingertips were trying to clench onto. I put down every bit of armor still stuck to my body and threw the white flag. I surrendered. I gave up. I lost.
Yet, for some reason I feel more victorious now than I've felt in these last 7-months.
I'm learning that sometimes losing isn't all that bad. In fact, this loss liberated me. It set me free from a bondage I allowed to go on for too long. From guilt. From shame. From embarrassment. From hate. From anger. From uncertainty. From confusion.
Today I gave up on a 7-month battle. I ran out of endurance. Had no strength left. I had nothing to offer. The only thing left to take from me was the very bones that connected my infrastructure. I didn't fight for those bones at all. I pulled them apart myself and left them on the ground. I freed myself from the feeling of having to fight. And oddly enough, in doing so, I (finally) subconsciously gave the battle to God. Whatever He intends to do with it, He'll do. And, whatever level of defeat I have to stomach, I shall. Because I couldn't fight this battle any longer; I couldn't fight myself any longer. I could no longer battle my own well-being.
This freedom comes at the cost of defeat. But sometimes losing the battle is more rewarding than winning.
Perhaps, this is me winning.
