OK, let's talk about Freedom! I'm going to share an in-depth breakthrough that I experienced yesterday. I want to break down what I talk about and remind you that this is the planting season, and I'm planting the seed of freedom. God is giving you the safety to free yourself in the comforts of His arms.

Let me discuss how we all start out and how the reason that we love to know that community is meant for me. I hope the person reading this knows that God, the creator of all things, also made a space for you when you are up and when you are down. He already has a community waiting for you to come in and be free. Judgments of the things you deem as flaws are perfect in His eyes. He has your teacher or your mentor who has been there, done that, learned the lesson, and thrived through exactly what you are going through at this very moment. He is your help in times of need. “Hebrews 4:16 Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” I want you to know He knew you before you were born; He knew the decisions you would make, the thoughts you would have, the struggles you would face, and whether you would find the answers along your journey.

Being a Journaling mentor is special to me; it allows me to guide souls like you into a more intimate space with God through journaling. To show you how you can become the person you have been navigating from becoming for so long through pen and paper. He wants you to know He has not forgotten about you and that signs and wonders are just one aspect of how He speaks to you; He uses His word, His people, and even the rock if you just won't listen, lol.

So, when was the last time you looked in the mirror and said you are doing your absolute best to sit at God's feet and soak up His wisdom, His knowledge, His blessings? That He has for you, for you to get so that you can give, you would go through so that you could bless others through the words of your testimony? I want you to sit with that for a few mins and be truthful with yourself. Really recall when was the last time you sat and truly were present, not distracted, and attentive to really soak Him up like a piece of hot, straight out the oven from scratch biscuit with some of your grandma's best gravy, lol.

Let's start with not having a safe space to express your thoughts, your feelings, your inmost insecurities, the things that scare the bejesus out of you, and will have you crying and hyperventilating in a corner somewhere if you thought someone else could find out. Let's start there. Well, guess what, at the young age of 12, 13, or 14 for me (what I remember was 16), writing in a diary/journal was not an option for me because my thoughts (as I thought) were wrong. My thoughts were such that if written down and discovered, could be more detrimental than the words that would come out of my mouth and really put me on punishment, or kick out, or hurt others' feelings so bad it would be irreconcilable. So guess what, I didn’t write the words of joy, of hate, of pain, of pleasure; I wrote no words at all. I bottled them up for years, not really obtaining a true safe space or an outlet that was truly me and God, and had moments of anger, outbursts, fear, knee-jerk reactions, fights, tears, and so much more because I truly didn’t know how to manage my emotions, how to process them and feel them, and then release them properly. Now, I’m not saying that anyone with these issues as a teen had these issues because they didn't journal. What I am saying, from an experienced journaling expert, is that over the years, listening to others talk about not having a space, then finding safety in His arms and a journal, and then discovering that it could be used as a powerful therapy tool… I’m just saying, I'll come back to this one a little bit later.

Well, let's move on a little bit further. Growing up in a COGIC church cast a lot of burdens on you; things that you are doing wrong, things that you will go to hell for, things that if you don’t do it this way, you will be judged, lose your position, and maybe be put out of church if left up to the right person type of burdens. The list can go on, but this ain't about bashing a religion type of blog today, lol, not in my agenda.

Now, at the age of 19 (I think it could have been 18, not really remembering the exact time, but I remember the place), and it was in college, and I was living free, single, and me but was silently being attacked by the devil. So much so that I allowed him to enter into my thoughts and persuade me to think that the breath God so graciously gave me was not enough, that I had done something so wrong that living past the day was of no need anymore. Yes, the girl that was bubbly, as my mom would say, conceited, full of herself, and confident like no other was thinking that God had made a mistake and that living past that day was of no need, and I actually was in the way of others. So taking pills to ease the pain and exit stage left seemed like the best thing to do. Well, needless to say, I ended up in the hospital and recovering after scaring the living sh!t out of those around me who loved me. I survived this tragic event and was met with visiting a therapist. Having the space to visit her, and if you grew up in a household where going to therapy is taboo, weak, and frowned upon, you are not alone. In the Black culture, you dare not go outside this house and tell my business because what happens in this house—rape, theft, fear, abuse, and more—stays in this house, period, and you better not even tell your grandma or aunties it ain’t their business either. (As I roll my eyes at the cultural abuse that any child is responsible for carrying at such a young age.) But yes, this is the seed that God had her plant inside me, that He would water, He would use, and later use me to teach others like you how to use it as well to get closer to Him.

But I used it as the years went on. Off and on, but it became my safe space when no one else, I felt, could understand me. Well, I left college and joined the military because it was time for me to move on and experience more of what He had in store for me. So when I joined the military, I had to carry the burden of being a hardcore, stone-cold killer from Chicago. If you know, you know. Having an exterior hardcore was called surviving in the city of Chicago. So Him allowing me to enter into yet another space of people and now having a tool to help me maintain my sanity on the journey was His way of saying, baby girl, I got you. Be reminded, He has you.

So one of the first things you are greeted with when you enter the boat as a new, attractive female seaman on a floating city is you being fresh meat. Meaning you look good, you're tender, and you could be easy to sleep with and move on. That, believe it or not, is facts, and I kept my distance and played the field most of the time. But the next level of burdens that I acquired was heavy, yet I had to manage to carry them while being responsible, while being a good worker, while going to school trying to advance my career, I had to carry them while becoming a young mom; the burdens just keep getting heavier and heavier. If you know what I'm talking about, can I get an amen! I hope I ain't preaching to myself, y'all, lol (in my pulpit preacher voice), but really, I know I'm not the only 20-year-old carrying burdens from her past into her adulthood that were not hers to carry in the first place.

Well, having debates with your family about having children out of wedlock and they telling you you sinned and had a child, but you being confused because you know the act of sex not being married is a true sin but also remembering that the scripture said that God gives life and gives it more abundantly, so now being burdened again with, will God forgive me, will He love me again, is my sin too much for Him to bless me, and how do I keep from sinning again all in the same breath.

Writing is still part of this journey, so can you imagine carrying these types of burdens and not using a therapist, not using a journal, not having a mentor, not having any guidance at all? I will confess to you this day that journaling saved my life one page at a time.

The things that God kept me from, like jail after trying to run over my child's father with a car, stabbing people when I'm angry, having the spirit of get-back, were things that I would physically act out, but some days I would only think out loud and write the desires. So when I say it could have been worse, it could have been worse.

Have you ever felt that someone helped you, you would not be here if it wasn't for me, for me saving you, giving you, helping you type of talk and actions? Well, I'm the person on the other end telling you I don't need your help; I'll do it myself and show you better than I can tell you. The drive, the push, the shell that has to be placed on and carried leaves no room for you to show emotions, fear, or vulnerability in any shape, form, or fashion. So when I say screw you and proceed to still do the thing I thought I needed your help for, it gets heavy with the burdens again. Performing is part of the shell, and sooner or later, you are going to crack under the burden.

Have you ever been so burdened with life that every tragic event has its own little box in the compartments of your body, your mind, your heart? The pain comes, and you say, okay, I got through it, so let me pick it up, not feel it, put it in a box, and throw away the key and never think about this again. Being sexually assaulted, miscarried, mentally abused, physically cussed out, and so much more—you use it as fuel to get to the next space but keep it locked up in the very crevices of your body, never letting it go, sometimes not even being written about, that you didn't even trust God with. Can you imagine what the shoulders of that person would look like, the spiritual bags that would be trailing behind them on a daily basis? Imagine getting into bed and having to pick up each one of the bags every night, every day, dragging them to the shower, cooking with them on your back, getting on the city bus, and pulling them up on the bus, pulling them to the back of the bus as you say, excuse me, my bad, didn't mean to slap you with my bags and boxes of burdens because God isn't trustworthy enough for me to leave them with him, Jesus wasn't enough for me to not carry these burdens around with me for the rest of my life until I have a heart attack or until I have an aneurysm or a stroke. I think those would be worth the burdens I keep carrying around.

Intermission, let this be your reminder to #giveittoGod.

The outside version of what others see is the hard work, the accolades, the mission-driven person who couldn't live in the present because it was too painful, but I could work my way to sleep, pick up another class, find something to do to keep me busy, write when it gets unbearable, and then go back to carrying the burdens. Well, stepping into the tender age of 27 was when I came to a head; it came to the first fork in the road for me when yet another tragedy had hit me: car accident, breakup with my then-boyfriend now husband, and God awakening me after a long time being in a depressive state of mind mentally, physically, and emotionally. Crying out to God to come take the pain away from me, I could not take it anymore; He then came and broke the burdens I had been carrying away from me. It felt like it was overnight, but I just remember not feeling sad, heartbroken, in pain anymore. And reading one of my ghetto books, He gave me the thought that if this girl could write this story, so could I. Well, the worker in me, with all the insecurities, sat down one weekend and began to write. I was in the military, in college, taking care of a kid, so the plate was full as normal, but this mission felt different. He then and there personally gave me the confidence to write my first chapter to my first fiction novel. Well, I wrote it, and after I wrote it, I took it to my English teacher and asked her to read it for me and give me her opinion. She took it for the weekend, and guess what, y'all, God, in His best work, allowed her to water the seed He had just planted in me. The insecurities of not being able to spell, that my story wasn't good enough, that I would hurt, offend, or lose someone I love from writing this book were surrounding me real heavy, but when God has you do something, He will put the right people, the right things, the right places to get His mission done. Lol, so let me fast forward; it took me 2 almost 3 years to publish that book and bring it to life. "What did you make me for?" was answered, and I was confident He was telling me the truth after a few things were confirmed (my Moses moments, lol).

Well, journaling saved my life; writing the story, making it plain was clear to me. I want to encourage you that as special as I am, so are you; He wants to hear from you. He wants to use you in this season; He wants you to lay down your burdens and trade your yoke for His, to take His burden because it is light. He left it at the cross. Matthew 11:28-30, "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light." If we walk with Him, His yoke, His guidance is the easy path; His way is the right way, and being yoked to Him is the best thing you could do to save your life. It being light means He offers the relief you need, and He has all the strength you need to walk out and continue planting the seeds He gives you as He plows and waters them.

As I land the plane and hope this blog resonates with you, I want you to know that God hears you. If you are seeking a better relationship with God, if you are having issues with your children, if you can't seem to get out of your head, and just plain tired of carrying the burdens that are on you and need a space to lay them down at God's feet, you should pick up a journal and start with writing a letter to yourself about how you really feel. To take a moment and write out the pains, hurts, insecurities, and leave them at God's feet. Can you see the weight being lifted? Like really being lifted and taken away to never return again? Can you feel the back that is free from pain, the shoulders that stand tall and feel like a fresh massage with no tension to hurt, not hunched over with burdens? I see it; I see it for you if you don’t. I feel it; I know He's waiting. So tonight, start with your first page and see how well you sleep. I'm here to remind you He’s waiting on you. Like always, I love you and hope to see you next week.

Love,

Angie, your favorite Journaling mentor.

If you want to see the short version of this story check it out here.