I had to fail

"Whenever you find yourself doubting how far you can go, just remember how far you have come. Remember everything you have faced, all the battles you have won, and all the fears you have overcome." -unknown

I remember the summer after my freshman year in college. After a rough first year of adjusting to college, I made the decision to quit school. It just wasn't for me, and I was tired of wasting my time. Before going to my mother with my decision, I went to my older cousin. At this time, he had started his second year of teaching and coaching football at our high school; and I figured that he would understand the struggle of not wanting to return back to this "hell hole" named college. 

"I don't think I want to go back.", I said. 

His face showed no expression, and his tone showed no emotion, when he asked "Why?".  For about  15 minutes, I went on and on about how hard the classes were, how I felt so out of place, and how after struggling through the first year, I refused to fail at something everyone expected me to do so well at. I told him that college was just not the place for me. I was a free spirit. 

Free spirits like myself didn't belong in a cage like college, but belonged floating around the world discovering their purpose. 

Still with no emotion, and almost "Bill Cosby" like, he told me how full of crap I was. He refused to entertain the thought that me being a "free spirit" was the only thing that was going to stop me from getting my degree. He knew, just as much as I knew, that I was afraid to fail. This conversation between the two of us went on for hours on end, and he ended it with;

"You know, if you're scared to fail, you'll never succeed."

What in the heck was that supposed to mean? After quitting school, I worked here and there, never really feeling fulfilled by anything; and throughout the years, he would remind me through conversations, how I would never succeed, being afraid to fail. I didn't get it. I mean, I heard of many prerequisites for success; but I couldn't recall hearing that failure was one of them. 

After two years of working non stop at jobs that led to only dead ends of self discovery, I was left unemployed for the first time in about five years. I remember calling my mom upset, asking "What am I going to do?!?!". The first question my mother asked was, "Have you registered for your classes?". So that is what I did. The next day, I returned back to the "hell hole" I once feared, and registered for classes. For one year, I did not work. ANYWHERE. I applied for places, but did not get 1 interview in an entire year!

I had failed. Although, I was now back in school and doing exceptionally well; I was left with no vehicle and no money (other than the couple of dollars I earned writing papers for my lazy classmates). Often times, I would hear how lazy I was during this time from family members, and oddly during this time, my cousin was often present saying "This is all apart of the process...keep going."  How backwards was this?!? I just wanted to work, earn money, and find my purpose... how was being in school getting me any closer to my success?

A year after I returned to school, and even made up two school years, in one (yes, I was about that business) I got a job at a local bank, where I stayed at for 2 years. Throughout that time, I often found myself wanting more and wanting to know what else was out there?  I went to some and expressed how I wanted to move away from home. I mean, after being in the same place for the last 23 years, I think I deserved to move away and see what else the world had to offer. But I would constantly hear "You're crazy! Why do you want to move?"

"What happens if you move away and fail?"

and I even heard the comebacks of:

"You're going to fail."

and

"When you fail, I'm going to remind you how you should have listened to me!".

How discouraging is that?!? But eventually, I braved up. I took the advice of my cousin, and moved three hours away. Thankfully, I accepted a job at another bank which located me to the very same city my cousin and his family had just moved to. With much excitement of the new change, I was sure I had hit my destination of success. After living with my cousin and his family for 6 months, I signed the lease to my first apartment. Now, don't get me wrong. The experience in this city was not what I expected. I had high hopes of meeting and making new friends, finding a husband, and being able to "cheat" the idea of having to fail in order to succeed; but that's not how it worked out. I made no new friends outside of the few from work,  the dating pool did not have a high selection of candidates, and I often considered myself a failure when it came to where I was in life.

But that's exactly what I needed.
After spending well over a year in this city, I accepted a position in a city only 2 hours away from home...
And this is where it hit me:
I was no longer allowing the fear of failure to hold me back. No matter what, I refused to allow the cruel words of those who had no faith in me keep me away from where I needed to go.

I often look back over the last couple of years, and I can't help but smile at my progress. I've failed, several times. The ideas that I've had, and plans that I've set forth, haven't always led to the correct destination; but through every set back, I haven't remained the same. Go out. Do things that you've never done. Fail a couple of times. And from each failure that you run into, you will soon see that you haven't failed at all, but that you've only taken a step closer to your success.

My prayer for you 11:11 readers, is that you will no longer be afraid to stumble. You will walk bravely across unfamiliar territory and make a believer out of yourself! Proving others wrong is not always the goal, many times, its proving ourselves wrong.

Don't be afraid to fail.
I promise, you'll be better for it. 

Dear Son,

Dear Son,

Although you're far from present, you're often thought about. As your mother, I know that I'm  obligated to protect you from many things; but unfortunately, some things not even I or your father can keep you away from. This day and age for men like yourself is dangerous. Unfortunately, no matter how many degrees you get, how loved you are, and how valuable you are to the world, some people will forever look at you as a mere target. To many ignorant people, you will be considered dangerous, a threat, and deserving of mistreatment just based on the color of your skin.

Dear Son,

Love and respect them regardless. Don't form any opinion on any race, sex, religion based on bad experiences. Everyone is not the same. 

My prayer for you love, is that you understand that despite of what the world says you are, you're worth so much more. I know that you'll make mistakes, and I know that your father and I will mistakenly TRY to define you by your mistakes...BUT DON'T YOU DARE LET US! Or anyone else for that matter. It's so easy to judge others mistakes, when we have by God's grace and mercy been able to avoid making them. But my King, these mistakes are only stepping stones to get you closer to the path God has prepared for you. Let Him continue to work not only IN you, but through you.

Dear Son,

You will meet a girl one day, and I'm sorry to say this, but I will be jealous of not just her...but of them all! Forgive me. Your dad and I will have talks for hours about me being too overprotective of you, but my love...it's not just you that I'm overprotective of... it's also your heart. Treat not just your wife, like a queen; but EVERY woman you encounter. Pray for her, dear son. Love her. Lead her. Respect her. Yes, I know, praying for her may not be the most popular, but you HAVE to understand, that being a leader at times requires you to do whats not considered popular at all times. 

Dear Son,

Like I said before, I will be jealous of her. But, I will NOT tolerate you ever disrespecting her. No, I'm not taking her side.

But I do remember the many tears I shed over men who didn't treat or love me correctly. I can still feel the heartbreak from my first relationship, and even the embarrassment of staying around men who were just no good for me. Son, those tears are real. Don't take them lightly. I know that you hate seeing me cry (even though I know by now, you've learned I'm a cry baby), so learn to hate seeing her cry too..

and do your best to not make her. 

Dear Son,

Read books. Play Sports. Travel. Have Fun. 

I know that your dad is constantly having talks with you, leading you to your manhood, but my King, understand that he not only wants you to be a man, he hates to see you grow up. I'll do my best to remind him that you're just a child..

but

Dear Son,

although you are just a child, you are a child that will grow into a black man; and making sure that you grow into that role properly and successfully, your dad will not rest until that is done. We will mention names like, Emmett Till, Trayvon Martin, and Mike Brown; and the older you get, and the more you hear these stories about these black men you will understand your dad more.  He's not meaning to be too hard on you, he just loves you; and yes I love you too, but I just don't think I can love you quite like he does. Its different my King. A dad's love is so strong, while at times a mom's love can be soft. You'll understand more when you have your first son, and even your first daughter. 

Dear Son,

You are so worthy. God says so. Follow Him, and when you're terrified to come to us, go to Him. You will never understand just how much He loves you, until you go to Him needing EVERYTHING, while having NOTHING to offer...

and yet, He loves you just the same. 

Pray, dear son. 

Keep your focus on Him, and I promise you that He will lead you to places you could never imagine your feet would touch. 

He is God, and He's so real!

Trust me. 

Dear Son, 

The world will forever try to label you, and I know how frustrating this may be. Keep a heart of God, forgiveness like Him too, and I guarantee that the weapons will be formed, but they just won't prosper. 

You are an heir to the throne. You are not just a black king...but a king!

remember that, dear son.

To "be" or "not to be" CONVICTED.

Conviction [kuh n-vik-shuh n]

"The act of convicting; a declaration that a person is guilty of an offense. "

When was the last time you were convicted of something? I'm not talking about being taken to jail or anything because of mistakes; but more so spiritually convicted? This is a word that was heard often in church, while I was growing up, but until recently, I never quite understood what conviction truly was. Recently, my best friend and I met for lunch at my favorite place (IHOP!! Yuum) and while he was eating, and I was preparing to eat, I asked him, "Is conviction a punishment, or blessing?". The look that came across this place as he was preparing to put his fork of food in his mouth, he asked "What kind of question is that?".

To be honest, I don't know where that question came from. I can't even recall what caused me to bring this up for discussion while I was eating my New York Cheesecake pancakes---but I asked. And from that one question, well after my pancakes were gone, and our glasses of Dr.Pepper had been refilled at least more than 6 times; we were led into an hour long discussion about what conviction really is and is it truly a punishment or blessing.

Well after our hour long discussion that was mixed with laughs, tears (of course from me) and different opinions, we parted ways. After this conversation, my best friend left defining his conviction, while I was traveling three and a half hours away to get away  from mine. Yes, I was running from the conviction that I was facing. 

For several months, I had been in the season of conviction , and as upset as I found myself frustrated with the season, I couldn't help but still see conviction as a blessing. 

Yes...I saw my conviction as a blessing. 

I know that may sound crazy, especially to those who have been convicted by God before, but let me explain. During this time, my cup was empty. I couldn't make it through a good nights sleep, without being awaken at 3:43AM for about a month; and yet as much as I was running from this conviction, I was still holding on to the fact that I would appreciate it. For those who have never been convicted of anything, let me explain exactly what it feels like--or at least what my experience felt like. 

While I was sleeping, God would wake me up just to talk, and as much as I would try to walk around my house or even rock myself back to sleep, I would still find myself wide awake during a time where even the rest of the world was sleeping. I would be talking about something, and trying my hardest to explain what it was that I wanted to do, and I would find myself speaking exactly what it was that God wanted me to do. Not only was I a sleepy, stuttering person for a while, but I was confused. I felt guilty because I knew exactly where God was leading me, and I knew that He was not agreeing with the decisions I decided to take to avoid His path; and yet, like clockwork---

I would wake up at 3:43AM, stutter my way through conversations in confusion of who's words I was really speaking, and find myself even more confused than the day before. Almost like God was saying "Well...we're going to try this again today.."

My dears, this is where conviction is such a blessing. Everyday, although we have decided to go our own ways, God still tries again. He sees us walking on the wrong path, and yet, He always finds a way to put us right back on track; even if that means He has to convict us!  I was running like heck trying to get away from Gods' conviction. I wanted to continue to live my life the way I had chosen, and ignore what He has been telling me. Occasionally, I still find myself smiling at the blessing that Gods' conviction was wrapped in.

As much as I was trying to run away from it, its so amazing what came from it!

Who's going to save me from being single?

If you're apart of the elite group of "singles" please continue to read. If by chance you find yourself committed to someone, and fear ever entering back into singlehood, you may want to continue reading too.

Well, as another year ends, a birthday has passed, and even several holidays where I promised myself I would be in a relationship by now have come and gone. The chilly weather has arrived, and to be honest, the only thing keeping me warm now a days is a fleece jacket and knee high boots I bought myself last Christmas. Yes. The single life. Not that being completely dateless for all major holidays is enough of a reminder that I'm in my late 20s and still single, I have constant reminder of this singlehood by the constant questions of  "Oh, when are you getting married?", "Do you plan on getting married soon? You're getting old." and my favorite question of them all, "When are you going to have a wedding to invite us to?". Yes. I know. I'm always the bridesmaid, and never the bride...do I really need anymore reminders though?

 

If getting in a relationship was as easy as many "non singles" made it to be, I do believe that instead of purchasing knee high boots for myself last Christmas, they would have been a gift from "him" instead of from "yours truly.". I've spent most of my life hating and despising the single life. I remember how horrible I made my 25th birthday, consumed and drowning in the self pity of my own despair. All because, unlike many of my friends, I saw another birthday ...

single!

After getting through that, I promised myself that I would never have another birthday like that again. So what did I do?

Did I meet someone and fall in love, and was saved from this  horrible single life?

Was my biggest prayer answered, and was a handsome, Christian man dropped from the sky right into my living room?

No.

I just found myself loving to be single.

I know, how cliché' is that? But I did! I came to realize that it was time for me to "Ring the Alarm!", tell every man he was "Irreplaceable", I came to realize, I needed someone who saw me as "Flawless"

(Yes. these are all Beyoncé references)

but you get the point.

The question that I began to ask myself was simple; why is being in a relationship so important? Other than having dates for holidays that were meant to be spent with someone, I realized I was just looking for someone to save me. Yes, save me from living single. I wanted to have someone that could save me from those days where life has kicked me down to only kick me down again. I craved a relationship, because like many, I wanted to date, travel, and have fun with someone. But just like any "ah-ha" moment, it hit me.

I was looking for a relationship to save me, when God created me to save myself.

I could and have very well, attended holiday dinners/functions dateless; I've learned to get in the boxing ring with "life" and fight...and even win! I've traveled and seen new places (well, a few places) alone or with my best friend.  

My dear, living single doesn't mean that you have to hate this season, and it definitely doesn't mean that you have to wait for someone to save you from the world. You were created to be whole alone, just not to remain alone. Enjoy this season singles. Just think..

who can save you better, than you can save yourself?

I borrowed him from her...

Just like many singles, I spent my nights praying for my "appointed one"; so needless to say, I was quite pleased when I met him. He wasn't EVERYTHING on my list, but he was enough. He was charming, kind, Christian, funny, and had a heart of gold. I just knew for sure he was mine. I remember just like before getting on my knees nightly praying, but this time around instead of begging God to send my "appointed one", I was thanking Him for doing so.

 

I just knew after meeting him and even talking about marriage, he was the one; which is why I was so shocked when he turned out not to be. Nothing changed. Even after our breakup he was still charming, kind, Christian, funny, and had a heart of gold; but that just wasn't enough anymore. One day we agreed that it was best to part ways; I mean, if you love something enough let it go, and if its truly yours it'll come back, right? Well, he didn't come back, and after many sad and lonely nights, I grew to be thankful that he didn't. You see, he was never mine...I just borrowed him. No, this wasn't some secret affair, or any odd threesome. This was special. He was special. Now, knowing all of this, I figured that I would struggle with returning him to be free, but this time around it was quite simple.

 

 He was never meant to be mine; only a loner. I found the strength to finally find the strength, the acceptance, to thank God for this loner; because he was everything that I needed. He just wasn't mine to have. He was hers. He did his own thing, and I did mine. He dated a few, and so have I. He's engaged, and well...I'm still praying for my "appointed one"; and that's ok. This loner, was something special. You see, he was charming, kind, Christian, funny, and had a heart of gold...only difference is, he wasn't mine to have, he was hers.