Crazy How Life Changes In An Instant

Yesterday morning started out with so many good intentions.  Before falling asleep, I asked God to wake me up early, in the silent hours of the morning so I could write some memoir content.  So of course when the hour came, I ignored the purple promptings in my 3rd eye, and decided I needed another hour of sleep.  Thinking all the while that I had nothing but time yesterday.  I ran all my errands the day before and I only was obligated to hit the gym then I was free to let my creativity loose. As usual, my plans were not the Creator’s plans.
  While I was in Starbucks, getting my morning motivation, I got a text that my Brother-in-Law’s Dad was about to transition and the whole family needed to get to the hospital.  Since my niece attends college closer to my house and the hospital was on the other side of town, I decided to be a help and drive her to the hospital so she could see her grandfather before he passed.  Since I am not immediate family and I am squeamish around emotion, I had no intention of being in the hospital room.  I simply thought of myself as easing the burden on my sister and family by doing what I can do, which was drive.
Soooo, what had happened was, I pulled up to the hospital entrance, my niece jumped out and I took my time looking for parking.  I then took my time meandering through the hospital to finally arrive at the ICU, and then I even took more time just waiting outside the doors to ensure that I missed all of the emotional goings on.  Once I finally mustered up the nerve to find the room, I was welcomed in by his daughter.  She was genuinely glad I came to show support and we just hugged and stood in silence watching her Dad on the breathing machine, with the rest of the family doing the same.
 All of a sudden, the nurse comes in and says they’re ready to remove the machine.  I see her unhook the tubes and disconnect the monitors and then I realized in horror what was about to happen.  My face could have been a GIF at that moment because I was not prepared for all that transpired.  This regal man of God, that I had seen for the last 2 decades of my life was desperately gasping for air as his soul left his body.  Even though I had told myself that I wasn’t going to cry, the sobs escaped me uncontrollably because this was the most raw and painful sight I have ever experienced.  When my own Mother passed, thankfully I missed her last moments.  I don’t think I could have recovered from that sight.  I always hear people say, ‘He passed peacefully surrounded my family and friends”, and that sounds so comforting and serene.  That description is some bullshit, because this man was surrounded by family and friends but there was nothing peaceful about his labored breathing and the fact that we were all helpless to do anything.  I’m sure the process took only a few minutes but it felt like hours to me.  The expression on his face, mouth open, eyes staring blankly, will be burned on my brain forever.
What was so crazy was that prior to me going to Starbucks yesterday, I had a long conversation with my wife and another friend about grief and its lifelong effects.  I explained how I went through a period of grief from late 2009 until about mid 2013, which began with my dear friend passing, my Mother, then my sister.  Throughout the conversation I was fighting back tears but I thought that I had compartmentalized that sorrow enough that it wouldn’t pour out again in full force.  I was wrong.
The other crazy thing was that my nephew’s birthday, his grandson, was yesterday and although it was a traumatic moment physically, I feel like the spiritual mantle was passed on to him when his grandfather transitioned.  I have always noticed the physical similarities between them ever since he was born and my Mother prophesied that my nephew would be a preacher.  Time will tell.
I woke up at 4am this morning wondering why I was allowed to be privy to such an intimate, vulnerable yet spiritually charged moment.  Since he was such a noble man, I felt like I wanted to salute or stand at attention while he transitioned.  I know he was welcomed into God’s bosom with a hearty “Well Done”, because he left a legacy of integrity and strength. I thoroughly respected him because he reminded me of the  strong, West Indian men that I remember from my childhood.  I don’t know if I was there for me or for his family or out of respect for my own Mother because he was such a great confidant to her, even up until her last night on earth.  In any case, despite the tears I shed, I want to thank God for allowing me such a privilege.  After witnessing death, I am once again assured that this physical body is only a shell and I need to continue strengthening my spirit, which is all that matters in the end.

 

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YES, I AM ENOUGH!

So you know how your parents used to tell you that a hard head makes a soft ass?  Well, for me that is still sort of a mantra because I constantly get distracted and swerve into a lane God didn’t put me in.  This past week, as I was further procrastinating about getting back to the blogging, I had some conversations that sparked some much needed “Ah-hah” moments.  Basically God’s way of letting me know I had swerved out of my lane.
One conversation was with fellow blogger, Jamie Hopkins of Matters of my Heart, who reminded me that I had a gift and I wasn’t using it to the fullest. I argued that I didn’t have a product yet so I didn’t think that my blog posts were relevant enough to warrant any marketing.  She countered with the fact that my blog is my product until I have something else and people that I don’t know are waiting for me to show up with a unique perspective on questions they’ve been seeking answers for.
 It’s so crazy how I can almost instantly go from having a plan on how to encourage people with my words to not thinking what I have is good enough.  Ironically, it took the blessing of becoming a homeowner for me to forget that God is in control and He told me to write.  Once I got the call from my realtor back in July saying that our offer was accepted,  I automatically jumped into hustle mode.  All the while rationalizing that I need more income to maintain this blessing, and came up with a few ways to make money.  They all seemed legit, to me anyway, although they are things that were never in my sphere of thinking, like teaching or personal shopping.  I still surmised that this was the path I was supposed to take, because these humble opportunities  were presented to me.
 I fell into the trap like so many others of thinking that the first thing that shows up after I prayed for something is that miracle I waited for.  My experience has always been that the first thing that shows up, is a distraction.  Although my gut and that still small voice kept telling me, “Nope, I told you to write”, I busied myself preparing for what turned out to be fruitless endeavors.   I’m so hard-headed.  See, I was scared shitless of my promotion and thought that I had to do something extra to keep it because I didn’t feel deserving.  I convinced myself that I needed to do something other than what I have always done which is, ask, thank Him for it, prepare for it as best as I can and wait for it to manifest.   These damn feelings are an unreliable mess!
I guess God had to be extra to show me I was wrong.  He shut down every job opportunity I thought I had landed.  The way I knew it was God was because of the randomness and improbabilities of the shutdowns!  Things such as failing IT connectivity tests with brand new equipment and companies disappearing from my area although online they exist.  Every single opportunity dried up except for getting back to this writing.   I was so busy trying to figure out how the money was going to come instead of actually doing the task which I was assigned, simply writing to encourage others.  One of my excuses is that I always feel like the writing is not good enough, I agonize over phrases and topic choices and many times i talk myself out of writing what is on my heart completely.  So, as I was praying and thanking God for the gift of writing, I was saying “I know it’s not me Lord but your words flowing through me…and then I distinctly heard,  “If you know it’s Me and not you, why are you afraid?”  Whaaat?! I had to stop and write this down.  If my inspiration is from God and I trust God’s promptings, why do I agonize over the right words?  Blew my mind.  Which takes me back to the original point of this whole post, getting my ego out of the way and simply let Spirit lead.    So, I’m back with a renewed sense of purpose and new level of freedom to create.   I’m grateful my hard-headedness doesn’t last forever and at least you get a story out of it.
Until next time, Be Blessed.
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