I Only Love My Pen And My Momma

“With each opportunity, I found a way to sabotage it by running to jobs (and people) that guilted my hand into reshuffling priorities. ”

I’m fearful of the call God has on my life because I don’t understand why He chose me for my gifts.  I’m not from a family of dreamers chasing steadfast after purpose nor did I grow up surrounded by friends with unconventional aspirations. I wasn’t raised in church and scripture nor do I have a background of extraordinary privilege. So, each opportunity has meant wilderness and distance from the comfort of what I knew.

When you’re fearful of calling and purpose, you attract people that reflect your inner monologue. For the longest, my inner monologue spoke of doubt and disbelief, and that created space for abusers, losers and users to feed off my power. Those people aided me in convincing myself that I was less than. So, for each successful block I built, I tore two down. But, the funny thing about calling is you can’t hide from it.

“You can’t hide from calling.”

My gifts separated me from the pack which placed stigma on my character. To my detriment, I deal in truth. I like definitions, facts and numbers because they’re definitive; there isn’t room for interpretation. Being labeled as thing I knew to be untrue bothered my ego, and it made me want to prove folks wrong. So, I taught myself to ignore the call, and I tried to bargain away my gifts for relationship to prove my loyalty and love.

“Just bring them with you,” urged my bright ideas when schedule conflicts arose.

“I can be happy with this job because the hours are more traditional and that’ll give me time for functions,” I told myself each time I put down the pen, neglected deadlines or passed on work opportunities.

The irony is the more I made time for them, the clearer it became that I didn’t belong and how far apart we’d grown. I got stuck in a comparison trap. I too wanted to be surrounded by laughing girlfriends and to belong to a pack bounded by time. But I traded in my safe spaces filled with like hearted peers, all for a dream that was never mine, and it killed me.

For better and worse, I don’t care for anything like I do exhortation and faith. I’ve tried, but the truth is, if it takes me away from those gifts then it’s not on my priority list. That’s something I’ve always known about myself, but now I’m willing to walk in that truth.

I've grown to understand that I don't have a monopoly on truth. So what rings true and clear to me, may not be received or seen that way to others. Even more, I’ve learned it’s okay to grow apart and to love from afar without explanation. Doing so, doesn’t take away from the season you spent with people. If anything, it preserves the bond, and that’s much more worthwhile than trying to stretch what just doesn’t fit any more.