Dreams Delayed Are Not Always Denied: God’s “No” may just have been a “Not Now.”

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I have been silent for awhile as I focused on getting through the pandemic, writing my book Leadership Lessons: Notes From and For the Journey, and completing my studies at the Harvard Business School to become an alumna. But, given my journey of the past two years, I thought it was time to share what I learned about dreams deferred.

Let me begin with my book…

Leadership Lessons had been an idea of mine for over 10 years with the encouragement of people I’ve known and others I met along my path. I’m so proud to say, “I did it!” I, of course, can’t take the credit — the book was birthed through me but written by God and published in 2023.

The process of writing the book was taxing because I had to contend with feelings of: 1) doubt — there are a million books, what’s one more going to matter?, 2) confusion — what should I write about and what should it be titled?, and the one I struggled with the most 3) insecurity — why would anyone want to hear what I have to say?

As with anything God-compelled, I had to write the book because the lessons were meant to be shared; while I have written about my experiences in my blogs, the book is the first time that I can tell my story fully, with the hope that it will inspire others. (Shameless plug: the book may be purchased at drjacklynachisholm.com.)

Harvard Business School…

As far back as I can remember, I’ve wanted to attend Harvard, but as I’ve recounted in my book, I found myself: first, as a victim of a high school teacher’s comments in the 10th grade that eroded my self-confidence, affected my grades in math through my senior year, and ended any hope I had of being accepted to Harvard as an undergraduate student, and secondly, at the same time in an abusive relationship that held my life and my dreams captive for several years until I was able to escape from it.

As a dedicated life-long learner, I believe in investing in my professional development and am privileged to have earned three degrees and several certificates from universities that I could only fantasize about as a young woman, and that recently culminated in my becoming a Harvard Business School alumni.

I shared the happy news on Facebook and LinkedIn and received some wonderful comments, especially to my statement that, “What God has reminded me over and over is that my dream of attending Harvard decades ago while deferred, was not denied! To God be the glory!”

So, to those who may have given up on a dream because you think God said “no,” maybe it wasn’t a solid no, it was just a “not now.” And maybe, like me, it’s your time to dream again!

A Picture Is More than the Paint You See: The Layering Of A Life

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After an almost two-year hiatus due to living through the COVID pandemic, I’m grateful to return to my blog. I hope my stories will continue to inspire!

Now, onto the new lesson…

———————————————————————————————————————

I admit to having a habit of scrolling through YouTube videos when I’m bored. I am especially fascinated by artists who paint.

One evening, I watched a young woman paint a portrait of herself underwater. I saw the finished picture as she demonstrated her technique. What captured my attention was her initial use of only the color red to outline her subject matter.

I watched as she began using other colors to build texture, definition and depth to the painting. I also marveled at and was inspired by her ability to bring her vision to light and by her process, as well as by how her picture was formed layer by layer.

This led me to think about how I, like many others, compartmentalize my life — I grew from child to adolescent to young adult to older adult — and viewed each as a stage I lived through then went on to the next. However, my goal is to not rush too quickly to the next stage; I try to savor the good of where I am and learn from the bad when possible, recognizing that past experiences may be preparation for my life’s future.

How would my life narrative change if instead of viewing it as a series of beginning and ending stages that I intentionally keep separate — like colors in an artist’s palette — I viewed them as layers in my life’s masterpiece? It’s a worthy goal to be sure.

So, for the artist in all of us…here’s to painting and living your life in layers!

The Burden of Leadership: The Art of Maintaining Your Crown

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“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” (Paraphrased from Shakespeare’s play Henry IV, Part 2: “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”)

I’ve been silent for almost a year because the last two blogs, while I hope were helpful to some, took a great deal out of me in their retelling.

I now feel that I’m ready to cultivate some old ground in a new way as a result of my experiences over the past five years in a C-Suite leadership position.

I distinctly remember the day I was offered the job of leading one of the largest organizations of its type in my state; I knew that I had very limited experience as a president and chief executive officer, but had every confidence that this was a “God assignment” for me at this point in my career. I described it at the time by saying that, I felt like I was in the deep end of a pool; I didn’t know how deep the water, but I knew how to swim!

My initial reaction was fear and self doubt: could I really handle an organization of this size knowing that the budget was over $40 million and that more than 400 people would depend on my leadership of an organization in turmoil due to my predecessor’s imprisonment, as well as funders’ questioning whether the organization was still viable? Could I build a team of leaders to support the monumental work that had to be done to transform an organizational culture that had become stagnant? Could I cast a vision that clearly articulated who we are as an organization and what we aspire to be in service to our staff, customers, and our community? Could I help our staff eliminate the silos that had been constructed with heavy duty concrete and reinforced by departmental prejudices and unhealthy competition? And, finally, could I help the organization become one of learning and innovation rather than one that primarily sought to simply keep what it had rather than risk more to serve better?

The answers to these questions could not be found in my past because I didn’t have a frame of reference for the enormity of the problems or the experience of leading an organization of this type or magnitude. What I did have, and what I depended totally on, was my belief that I was sent to the organization by God to do my part in its restoration. I’ve written in past blogs about having “Esther moments” that are biblicaly described as being prepared “for such a time as this” (Esther 4:14).

I’ve also recounted in other blogs how difficult this particular journey has been due to unforeseen obstacles like external threats and threats from “friends” who meant to kill me professionally. Those attacks were the most difficult, but God reminded me that, “…the time will come when people will kill you and think they are doing God a favor” (John 16:2 CEV).

Each attack was an opportunity to walk in grace with God. In fact, God gave me the imagery that I had a crown on my head to remind me that it matters how I walk through my trials, being confident that I am not alone — He’s with me. So, whenever I enter an unfamiliar or potentially hostile environment, I put my imaginary crown on my head and act as if nothing can penetrate the protection that God gives me simply because I belong to and trust in Him.

I have to admit that I’ve become fixated on this notion of a crown, so much so that I have purchased items and placed them around me as reminders. Like one recent poster acquisition: “On my darkest days when I feel inadequate, unloved and unworthy, I remember whose daughter I am and I straighten my crown.” Or another poster that says, “Be a Pineapple: Stand Tall, Wear a Crown and Be Sweet.” Or, finally the crown charm that I’ve placed on my bracelet that I view throughout my day. These visuals remind me that, leadership is very much like wearing a crown: your subjects (i.e., your staff and your customers) and your benefactors (i.e., your funders, sponsors and superiors) are looking to you to lead and to do it well.

Unfortunately, a skewed or unpolished crown is often the first head gear you receive when you are new to leadership. However, over time and with experiences — challenges, failures and triumphs — your crown becomes more fixed on your head and it acquires a shine that is difficult to ignore. Changes in your crown may be noted in: (1) your posture (how you stand), (2) your voice (how and what you say), and (3) your perspective, which broadens to encompass the multiple roles leadership requires such as caretaker, cheerleader, taskmaster, motivator, and the list goes on. In the case of the Chief Executive Officer (CEO), add the roles of Commander-in-Chief, visionary, advocate, bookkeeper and “rainmaker” (lead fundraiser) among others.

Finally, I’ve learned that, while the crown of leadership may be heavy on occasion and the burden of wearing it may become back or shoulder bending, too, the rewards can be even greater than the burden because I can affect change that is more impactful for my organization and those I lead and those we serve. And, with each success, I am reminded that I am only a caretaker of my leadership crown — it is a responsibility that God has given me; I must maintain it and wear it with humility and complete confidence knowing that, even though it’s heavy, I am not holding it up by myself — God made me its steward, not it’s owner!

Happy polishing!

Grace In And For The Fire

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I’ve been thinking lately about the times that, in carrying out my God-given assignment, I was forced to walk through the fire until God delivered me from it. However, I found that it wasn’t just having grace in the fire, as typified by the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Adednego, it was also having grace for the fire. Let me explain…

You may remember the story of Shadrach, Meshach and Adednego, who were thrown into a fiery furnace because they refused to obey King Nebuchadnezzar’s decree that, when music was played, every citizen had to worship a golden image:

There are certain Jews whom you have appointed over the affairs of the province of Babylon: Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. These men, O king, pay no attention to you; they do not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up…

…Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered and said to the king, “O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up. (Daniel 3: 12, 16 ESV)

Their story demonstrates the importance of faith in God and His grace in and for the trials and tribulations we experience that have no end dates or known outcomes. It also reminds me that, while trials may come, their purpose may be to not only build my faith in God, but also the faith of those who are watching me. Additionally, if I successfully endure the trial, I may receive a promotion of some kind from God (e.g., King Nebuchadnezzar decreed that Shadrach, Meschach and Adednego’s God is the true God and the King promoted each of them!):

…Then Nebuchadnezzar came near to the door of the burning fiery furnace; he declared, “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out, and come here!” Then Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego came out from the fire. And the satraps, the prefects, the governors, and the king’s counselors gathered together and saw that the fire had not had any power over the bodies of those men. The hair of their heads was not singed, their cloaks were not harmed, and no smell of fire had come upon them.

Nebuchadnezzar answered and said, “Blessed be the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, who has sent his angel and delivered his servants, who trusted in him, and set aside the king’s command, and yielded up their bodies rather than serve and worship any god except their own God. Therefore I make a decree: Any people, nation, or language that speaks anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego shall be torn limb from limb, and their houses laid in ruins, for there is no other god who is able to rescue in this way.” Then the king promoted Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in the province of Babylon.”
( ‭‭Daniel‬ ‭3:26-30‬ ‭ESV‬‬)

Over the course of the seven years that I’ve shared my spiritual journey with you in this blog, I’ve struggled to trust God when I was unsure as to how the situation would be resolved; I wanted God to be glorified, but I also wanted Him to vindicate me. Those times were difficult and very stressful! After every trial that found my name associated with negative stories about me — that were never true of me — I was often asked how I managed to persevere with poise and confidence. My response then as now is that God gave me Grace In And For the Fire!

Consent Isn’t Always Consensual

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NATIONAL SEXUAL ASSAULT HOTLINE 1-800-656-4673

RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network)  https://www.rainn.org

In 2012, when I started this blog, I promised God and myself that I would share my experiences with the goal of inspiring others.

So, in the wake of the Brett Kavanaugh hearings, the #MeToo movement and the #WhyIDidn’tReport Twitter feed, an over 30-year old experience that I placed in a high security vault and buried deep in my memory has decided it is time to have its say. I called the event then “my humiliation,” but later the term that most aptly applied was “date rape.”

This long silent memory was reawakened with the thought: I’ve heard people recently talk about their willingness to take a lie detector test to prove their innocence or truthfulness regarding disputed “intimate interactions”: both the accused and the accuser are certain they will pass and do pass the test. This caused me to wonder how that could happen? How can both be right? The answer became abundantly clear in light of my own experience: the accused may have viewed the interaction as having the person’s consent; the accuser may have experienced it as coercsion.

I’ve written extensively about my past and, in particular, my divorce. It was during this period, I returned to college (and campus living) and began attending events with my friends. At one of these events, I met a guy, who seemed to be genuine and interesting. He asked me to dance and the rest of the evening we spent in good conversation and trying out new dance moves. I had a great time!

Before the night ended, he asked to take me out to dinner the following evening. I gave him my phone number (mistake #1 — didn’t get his) and he called shortly after I arrived at my dorm to agree on a pick up time.

When he arrived, I got in the car (mistake #2 — should have agreed to meet somewhere) and on the way to the restaurant, he said that he forgot something at home and had to stop and pick it up. He parked and asked me to wait inside his house while he retrieved it. I said okay (mistake #3 — should have stayed in the car). Shortly thereafter, I learned that he had locked the door and had no plans of opening it without a concession that included my body. My choices in that moment as I saw them were: (1) say no and demand to leave (did that, it didn’t work); (2) fight with the possibility of injury or death; or (3) capitulate and, hopefully, be released. After the first option failed and I decided not to fight my way out (this was on the heels of working through my previous domestic violence abuse), I chose #3 — the only option I thought gave me the best chance of getting out of there unhurt. (I later learned through this and other experiences that some hurts can’t be seen on the surface, but are scars that are buried deep in your soul).

Once the deed was done, he acted as if all was well, while I felt haunted in my own body! He planned to take me to the restaurant as before, but I said that I wanted to go back to my dorm.

During the ride, he kept up a steady stream of conversation, while I hugged myself and huddled in the corner of the front seat waiting for the ride to end. As soon as he parked, I jumped out of the car and walked quickly away without a backward glance.

Once in my dorm, I confided to my roommates what happened. They urged me to file a police report, but all I could think about was how humiliated I felt by the experience and the strong belief that the police would blame me for going into his house and bargaining with my body for my release (this was in the early 80s, three decades before the #MeToo movement). I was also just piecing my life back together and the thought of opening up a Pandora’s box was less than appealing to me. So, I decided to lock the experience — and it’s associated memories and feelings — away “as if it never happened.”

A year or more later, I was surprised by my resilience; I didn’t dwell on my humiliation at all! In fact, I thought  I had successfully moved on until I attended a friend’s house party and the rapist was there. I froze! My boyfriend (now my husband of 33 years) became concerned and asked me if I was alright. I finally told him about that night. Intensely angry, my boyfriend approached the guy, which opened the door to my confronting him about raping me. The guy looked seriously surprised by my accusation and then proceeded to apologize IF he did something wrong. I told him that he did and the only reason I didn’t call the police was that I didn’t know his address. I walked away feeling some closure, but also knowing, because of my response to seeing him, that the scar was (and remains) very present, and it’s a reminder to me to do everything within my power to make sure it never happens again.

Those 30-year old feelings of humiliation, powerlessness and fear resurfaced with recent stories of sexual abuse by powerful men —  I hate that!  But I can do little about those feelings other than to honor them for what they are, be thankful that I’ve survived and thrived, and to share my story so that people will know that consent is not always consensual.

If you are the victim of sexual abuse, please call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-4673 (https://www.rainn.org) or your local Rape Crisis Center for help and support.

When The Pain Or Despair Is Too Great To Live…Please Live Anyhow!

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NATIONAL SUICIDE PREVENTION HOTLINE                           1-800-273-8255                 https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org

I woke up this morning to the news that another celebrity died of an apparent suicide. Tragic!

I’ve read that suicide is the most selfish thing anyone can do because they don’t take into account the devastation that it leaves behind for their family and friends and the unanswered questions of “How did we miss that?” or “What else could I have done to prevent it?”

If you have not been to a place in your life where all around you seems hopeless, that’s wonderful! But for those of us who have travelled this road in our minds, let me try to explain at least my journey to seriously contemplating suicide.

I’ve shared in the past a troubled upbringing with my parents: my father physically abused my mother for years. Home wasn’t always pleasant, especially when my father came home after several days of spending time with his girlfriend and her family or after having stayed out drinking with his friends. He would argue with my mother and then hit her. My sisters and I tried to stop him, but it seldom worked.

Thankfully, at about the time I turned 8 years old, my mom (and my sisters and I) had had enough; she filed for divorce! I know the decision to do so was very difficult because she was now responsible for 3 children under the age of 11 and knowing that she would get little, if any, help from my father. I admire her courage!

We struggled for a few years living on her paycheck, whatever child support my father decided to contribute and whenever he decided to pay it, and government food programs for which we were suddenly eligible.

I think my mom was looking for a real partner to help share her load. Unfortunately, she found help in the form of an alcoholic, who promised that he would buy her a house and support her children. My mom saw it as salvation, we lived it as a nightmare. They were married for almost 17 years until my mother’s untimely death from heart disease at the age of 53.

During those years, I recreated the most influential relationship I had experienced in my young life: I found two men to abuse me — one physically and one mentally— in successive relationships over a 13 year period.

I wrote about my failed marriage in my blog “Fish Don’t Know They’re In Water: So Why Should You?” (May 24, 2012):

I’ve written earlier about the abuse my mother endured and how I unwittingly recreated the same lifestyle when I was a teenager. What I didn’t mention is that I continued to try to recreate that same situation during my first marriage. Fortunately, my ex-husband asked me a profound question during an argument. He said, “Are you trying to make me hit you?” That was the first time that I became consciously aware of how my actions, unchecked, were leading me to the same abuse I had just escaped two years earlier! Thank God that my ex-husband was clear enough to know what I was unconsciously trying to do – swim in the same unhealthy, but familiar water!

The details I left out include:

  • Marrying my first husband to escape the home where my stepfather was constantly propositioning me, so I had to sleep with a chair under my doorknob because I didn’t trust the lock or him;
  • Having to leave college because I was no longer eligible to receive a financial aid package I could afford now or in the future due to the marriage, which devastated me because my hoped for future (through attending college) was the most stable thing in my life at that time;
  • Living in what quickly became a dysfunctional marriage rather than the supportive one I thought I was building;
  • Realizing that I lost a child at the same time I learned I was pregnant.  My mind processed this as another failure on my part — in addition to a failing marriage, I couldn’t even bring a child into the world!

I’ve often described to others how I felt during that time that led me to contemplate suicide: it’s like stuffing clothes in a drawer until the drawer is too full to close and everything falls out.

The loss of my child in combination with a terrible marriage and not attending college, pushed me to a mental breakdown. I couldn’t eat or sleep for two weeks; everywhere I looked I saw despair, loneliness and personal failure — the pain was too great to continue to live!

So, I decided to end my life by stepping in front of a bus. I assumed that people would think it was a terrible accident because I wasn’t paying attention, but God and I would know it wasn’t!

And here’s the thing: a bus was coming down the street and I was getting ready to step in front of it when my mother’s voice popped into my head and reminded me of her belief that she shared with me years before: God was not pleased with suicide — it was a ticket straight to hell and I couldn’t come back from hell! While I know others believe differently, that thought stopped me from stepping off the curb!

Instead, I walked to my dorm (I was separated from my husband and had returned to college) and told my roommate my plans for finding a way to kill myself so that God wouldn’t know it was suicide!

My roommate, God bless her, walked me to the counseling office, where I signed a contract to contact them if I felt suicidal and to attend daily counseling sessions.

Unpacking long packed drawers was painful…extremely painful… but absolutely necessary to healing. It was during this time that I committed to seeking counseling — regardless of anyone’s opinion about it — whenever I need it because I’m worth the investment!

My dear roommate and caring counselors changed my perspective from one of failure, despair, fear, and loneliness to one of hope for a brighter future. In fact, right before I would have stepped in front of the bus, I jokingly thought, “With my luck, as soon as I died, the day after, everything would get better!”

I can’t honestly say that the day after things got better, but with much soul searching, self- and other-truth telling and hard work, my life eventually moved forward toward reaching the goals I set for myself prior to my breakdown and the new goals I’ve set since.

With God’s grace, I eventually divorced and found my husband and soulmate Robert, who has been with me for 35 years; birthed and raised two phenomenal young women Robin and Jennifer (who I was absolutely certain I couldn’t have because of the miscarriage, but God knew otherwise); welcomed to our family to spoil and love to distraction my grandchildren Shanum and Yahya; and earned three college degrees including a Ph.D. (when I despaired of finishing just one degree) and a professional career that amazes me!

I now live everyday thankful for my ups and my downs, but mostly for my life because the despair and pain led me to get the help that I needed to “live anyhow!”

(I’ve included information above for the National Suicide Prevention Hotline. If you or someone you know needs help, please call them or seek local mental health resources. I owe my life to people who helped me find my way out of darkness so that I can share my experiences through this blog with you!)

Is Your “Pot” Too Small For Your Dreams?

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I’ve been staring at my bamboo plant in my office because I know that I need to repot it; it’s too big for its current pot. It wasn’t always. It started as a small plant in a small pot, but I knew that it needed more room in order to continue to grow.

Several months ago, I went to the store and purchased a new pot and soil. I lovingly transferred the bamboo to the new pot and watered it weekly. After about 3 weeks, I noticed new shoots growing out of the soil — I didn’t expect those; I just assumed that my plant would continue to grow upward as it had been.

Now, my bamboo plant is tall and has so many new shoots, its leaves are wilting because its current environment is no longer conducive to its growth and health.

I’ve written before about the process of transformational growth (See “Personal Transformation Has a Cost: Are You Willing To Pay?,” May 6, 2012):

From the time we are born we are changing or transforming. We don’t often think about transformation in that way, we simply see it as part of a natural process. What made me think about this is the fact that I have had to transform in order to achieve the things that were important to me — e.g., good grades, college education, job, promotion, etc.– or to pursue more personal things like a happy marriage, peace of mind, a spiritual connection with God, passion and purpose.

Each pursuit required a change in my thinking and behavior, which ultimately changed who I was and how I identified me to myself and to others. I’ve come to understand my transformational process as similar to something that happens in nature… For example, when a snake matures (stay with me!), it must shed its outer skin in order to grow. It’s called molting. If it does not shed its skin, it dies — it smothers in its old skin. I believe we humans are often prone to the same thing because we choose not to change our “skin,” meaning our thinking in order to pursue something new and different, especially when we know that our old skin no longer fits us.

I realize that I didn’t go far enough in my explanation because I talked about the internal environment (i.e., thoughts, attitudes, behaviors, etc.) that must change in order to become a better you, but I neglected the external environment that is equally important to one’s growth.

This includes simple questions like, “With whom do I choose to spend time — do they help or hinder my progress toward my better self?” “What places do I choose to inhabit — do they energize me or do I feel drained when I’m there?” “What am I spending my free time doing — am I learning or doing anything that helps others or myself?” These are all important “pot” issues because they determine if your environment is nurturing or restricting your growth.

Like my bamboo plant, I wonder what new shoots are lying dormant within me because I’ve allowed my growth to be contingent upon the size of my current pot — my environment— rather than the size of my dreams, goals and aspirations. But, as many of us know, changing environments means that you have to leave the old one and venture out into a new often unknown environment, and that’s scary, especially when you don’t know what the new will bring.

Ultimately, your new growth will require an investment in a new pot/environment. This may take the form of going back to school for additional training, leaving an unfulfilling job, seeking counseling to change habitual self-defeating thought patterns, saying goodbye to relationships that constantly take more than they contribute, choosing to break “enabling” behavior patterns that keep you guilt ridden and tied to a past and people you no longer want in your life, and attending events that have your future in mind even though your present self-talk says you’re not worthy to participate.

I know that I have to invest in a new pot for my plant; it’s well past the time to do so if I want it to continue to grow.

So, how about you: have you made the decision to invest in a new “pot” for yourself? I certainly hope so because, like a potbound plant, your “roots” — dreams, goals and aspirations — may die because they have no outlet to spread beyond their current confines.

The Harlem Renaissance Poet Langston Hughes in his poem Harlem, said it this way:

What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore—
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over—
like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?

Happy planting!

Dear Warrior: Courage For The Journey

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WARIOR (noun)

A person engaged or experienced in warfare; a person engaged in some struggle or conflict.

COURAGE (noun)

The ability to do something that frightens one; strength in the face of pain or grief.

I recently attended a conference sponsored by the Women of Color Foundation. Its focus was on women in the C-Suite. Throughout the conference, I kept hearing in my spirit the word “courage.”

I am privileged to have some phenomenal warriors in my life, who share their stories of brokenness and triumph with me. One friend called me yesterday because God had placed me on her heart and she said that she had to contact me.

As we talked, I kept wondering what the “God ordained” message would be that necessitated the call. I was reminded of it near the end of our conversation:

Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the assessment that something else is more important than fear. (Franklin D. Roosevelt)

She related to me her 2.5 year odyssey to find and reclaim herself during the midst of a terrible divorce and dysfunctional work environment. We talked about the self-doubt one experiences when you find yourself in a professional and/or personal war someone else is waging against you that’s intended to impugn your character and destroy your reputation just because they think they have the right to do so.

What was telling in her description was the “tipping point” moment that catalyzed her transformation from victim to victor. Webster defines “tipping point” as, “the point at which a series of small changes or incidents becomes significant enough to cause a larger, more important change.” My friend defined hers as the moment she realized that her now ex-husband, who had hidden his assets that she later uncovered, had more to lose than she did. Prior to her discovery, her ex was publicly disparaging her and privately trying to take as much as he could even though his income was significantly higher.

She said that once the discovery was made, she was able to find the courage to stand and fight in a way that she felt she couldn’t before. We talked about the surge of energy she experienced as well as her newfound strength in God’s grace knowing that she had done nothing to cause the war other than to stand up for what she believed to be right.

We also talked about our biblical Job moments: the times when God pays you “double for your trouble.” In her case, God repaid her by providing her a series of “new” things: a better than expected divorce settlement, a job with unheard of benefits and a self-identity that is stronger and more confident for having experienced and won the war waged against her.

Her story served to remind me that my warrior experiences of having to demonstrate courage began with the questions: “Is what someone says about me who I am? Is it indicative of how I operate?” These are soul searching, transformative questions that require prayer and reflection in order to find the answers.

In my times of trial, God often reminds me of his message to Joshua, whom Moses mentored, upon Moses’ death:

There shall not any man be able to stand before thee all the days of thy life: as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. Be strong and of a good courage…Only be thou strong and very courageous…Be strong and of good courage; do not be afraid, nor be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go.
‭‭Joshua‬ ‭1:5-9‬ ‭NKJV‬‬

Dear Warrior: every war fought, every trial endured and every wilderness walked carries with it the assurance that God will give you the courage for the journey because the experience is as much about your preparation for something bigger as it is about God receiving glory because you trusted him for the victory.

 

Lessons From A “Fire Walker”

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I have been recounting to friends the lessons I’ve learned and the person that I’ve become through “walking through the fire.”

As I’ve shared over the past five years on this blog, I’ve had a number of difficult experiences that have devastated me at different times in my life, but the more I thought about it, each experience gave me a mirror to myself and a lens to a future me that I could be if I chose to focus on the lessons learned instead of the hurt inflicted or what or who I lost along the way.

Fire walking is not for the faint of heart; it requires a deep belief that, eventually, “this too shall pass” if I keep putting one foot in front of the other and trusting God for the victory.  This is not always easy when you’re on the hot coals, but for me, it remains my spiritual compass.

I don’t personally know anyone who is a willing fire walker — situations just seem to pop up from time to time — but whenever life required that I put on my fire retardant foot wear, I was reminded of the truth of motivational speaker Zig Ziglar’s statement that, “It is your attitude, more than your aptitude, that will determine your altitude.”

We each have an opportunity to determine if our fire walking will make us better or make us bitter — our choice.

With each experience, I remind myself of God’s promise to me that:

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. (Isaiah 43:2)

As I noted in a previous blog, steel, in order to be strengthened for use, must be heated or “tempered” (see “Refining on Purpose,” June 24, 2017). We’re no different —often my struggles led to an important victory in some part of my life that confirmed that, while I may have been singed, I was not consumed.

As a seasoned “fire walker,” my greatest lesson has been that I must consciously choose to look for the good in the walk, especially since whether or not I walk over the fire is often out of my control. I’ve also come to appreciate that my personal, and especially spiritual, growth, unfortunately, required the fire experience.

So, while I don’t enjoy the process, I am grateful for the lessons that help me inspire others that “walking it out” through the fire is worth it!

 

Thank You!…You Helped Me Become Who I Am Now

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I recently had a conversation with my sister Karen about an experience one of our maternal aunts had with a friend, who she found was sharing her confidences with someone else. My aunt reportedly called her friend and said two simple words, “thank you.” My sister recounted that she didn’t explain to the friend why she was thanking her, she simply shared those two words and hung up.

I asked my sister why our aunt didn’t go into detail or deride her friend about betraying her trust. She said that our aunt didn’t think the details of what happened mattered as much as the knowledge she gained because of the experience. I was stunned by that perspective because I never considered it before!

This started me thinking about the times in my life when people I considered friends betrayed me — using lies and/or actions as weapons of my destruction or shovels to dig a hole into which they planned me to fall  — and how I responded.

The bible teaches that we should, “bless those who curse you, and pray for those who despitefully use you” (Luke 6:28), but it says nothing about thanking them.

So, like my aunt, for those (former) “friends” who willingly betrayed my trust with destruction in mind, THANK YOU…because you have helped me become who I am now!