Tag: Women

  • Sunday’s Writing

    Sunday’s Writing

    #SuperSundays: I used a gift card I won through a health app and treated myself to Starbucks this morning. I walked in, minding my business, and they handed me a free Red Cup for being a regular coffee consumer. A small, unexpected kindness. A wink from God. #WinWin 🤓

    The Tribe… they were all here this weekend.

    • Autumn fussed about my eating—and my not eating—habits. 🥰 A full Tillman. When she “moms” me, I hear Pearlie Mae, Val, and Keyna speaking through her. Healing comes full circle when our children carry the tone of the women who shaped us.

    • Brutus texted a whole list of demands… while at work. 🧐🤷🏽‍♀️

    • Darius seeking Umi duties. 🥰 His way of staying close.

    • Damien, the big brother who shows up—not loudly, but faithfully. 💛 His presence always lifts me.

    Damien and I spent Saturday together—shopping, movies, dinner. I drove him around for a bit. We got home and he immediately started dressing to go out again. I fussed because truly… he only comes to see his barber and his brother.

    Him: “I’ve been with you all day.”

    🤷🏽‍♀️🧐🙄

    #FirstBornJiltsTheHeart

    There’s a sacred sweetness in this stage of life—grown children finding their own paths but still circling back home in their unique ways. Their presence reminds me that love doesn’t leave; it shifts, expands, and deepens. Even the fussing is a kind of prayer.

    Pair all of that with one spoiled pup and I feel surrounded by a living testimony of God’s goodness. 🌿🧡🌿 I’m leaning into these new chapters, not just gracefully—but spiritually aware.

    🍂 Fall is here again. My favorite.

    NC weather gave us every season this week:

    🌦️☔️🌬️❄️☀️

    But today is calm, bright, and warm in that gentle, soul-softening way.

    This morning was #CoffeeAndQuiet and #PrayersAndSage.

    A settling. A centering.

    A reminder of Psalm 46:10 —

    “Be still, and know that I am God.”

    Stillness is not the absence of movement; it is the presence of awareness. It is choosing to pause long enough to hear what your spirit has been whispering all week.

    Today, I’m reminded:

    Healing isn’t optional; it’s required.

    And it often begins in these small, ordinary, holy moments—

    a free cup at Starbucks,

    a child fussing in love,

    a weekend full of familiar voices,

    a quiet home after the laughter settles.

    Happy Sunday, Good People.

    Take care to take care of yourself. 🌿

    Intimately worded,

    Michelle ❤️‍🩹

  • Sundays, Early Mornings & Friendship Loss

    Journey towards Better

    There’s something sacred about early Sundays — before the world fully wakes. It’s where truth sits quietly, waiting to be named.

    I know the world is on fire—

    yet what continues to amaze me is how these global flames mirror our internal ones.

    The ache, the quiet unraveling, the loss that comes not only from tragedy but from truth.

    Humanity feels lost.

    Personal and political beliefs now hold the power to alter the direction of our lives, our connections, even our sense of belonging.

    Recently, I severed a long-term friendship—

    one built on love, laughter, and shared seasons.

    It wasn’t over something petty or misunderstood.

    It was because of politics.

    Not politics as in policy, but politics as in morality.

    People often underestimate the depth of their words or the weight they carry.

    What I’ve learned is this:

    if an apology begins with “I’m not racist” but ends with unwavering support for those who harm and divide—then it isn’t an apology at all.

    It’s an attempt to seek comfort in the very space where harm was done.

    And I’ve decided I don’t have to comfort you through the ending of our friendship.

    My heart is fragile, still healing, still learning.

    But I am also living—intentionally, fully, and with boundaries rooted in love for myself.

    I love deeply, in both length and width.

    But I will not prove that love by tolerating hate, bullying, or dismissiveness disguised as “difference of opinion.”

    “Some endings are not betrayals of love — they are affirmations of self.”

    Sometimes I chuckle, not out of humor, but out of disbelief—

    because people truly forget how long we have been Black and hated.

    How long we’ve known the weight of racism—not as theory, but as lived experience.

    I have felt its ugly claws, tasted its unyielding rage, and recognized how ignorance allows it to thrive.

    And still, on early Sunday mornings, I rise.

    I pray.

    I breathe.

    I choose peace over pretense.

    Friendship loss hurts, especially when love still lingers in memory.

    But truth has a frequency that can’t be silenced, even for comfort’s sake.

    Reflection for the Soul

    This Sunday, take a moment to sit with the quiet after loss.

    Friendship, even when it ends, leaves imprints of who we were — and who we are becoming.

    Ask yourself: What does peace require of me now?

    Not the kind that avoids pain, but the kind that honors it, transforms it, and releases what no longer loves you back.

    May you find grace in your boundaries, rest in your truth,

    and gentleness in the parts of your heart still learning how to heal.

    Intimately worded,

    Michelle 🌿

  • The Eighth Month: A Season of Shifts, Soul Work, and Soft Becoming

    The Eighth Month: A Season of Shifts, Soul Work, and Soft Becoming

    By Michelle Tillman, PsychoTherapist/Founder of Transitional Pathways, PLLC

    Graced for more💕

    August has always felt like a threshold month. The eighth out of twelve, it marks a quiet turning point—a slow descent from summer’s height into something more inward, reflective. The number eight, symbolizing new beginnings and infinite cycles, reminds me that change isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s a whisper, a knowing, a sacred nudge inward.

    This August, I’m paying closer attention.

    I’m noticing how much I’ve grown through the stillness and the storms. Life, love, and relationships—each carry layers of complexity I continue to unpeel, not just as a therapist, but as a Black woman who holds space for others while learning to hold space for myself. Each interaction becomes an opportunity for reflection and growth, revealing deeper truths about my journey and the interconnectedness of our experiences.

    Parenting Through Transitions

    Parenting adult children is its own sacred terrain. There’s a constant balancing act between support and surrender, concern and trust. The role shifts from being a protector to a mirror—from telling them what to do, to showing them who I am becoming. And in that, I’m relearning who I am, too. It’s an intricate dance that requires both courage and vulnerability. As I navigate this evolving relationship, I find myself reflecting on the lessons of patience and grace that I wish to impart. There are days I want to gather them like I used to when they were small, encasing them in the warmth of my love and protection. And there are days when I sit quietly, choosing not to fill the silence, letting them figure it out—letting me figure it out. It’s hard. It’s holy. It’s human, a reminder that growth often comes in layers, revealing more of us in the process.

    The Inner Work of Love

    In love—romantic or otherwise—I’ve stopped striving for clarity at the expense of peace. I’ve learned that deeper connection doesn’t come from figuring someone out but from allowing myself to be fully known, even in uncertainty. Intimacy, for me now, feels less like pursuit and more like permission. The permission to be present, to not shrink, to not pretend I don’t need gentleness. Embracing this vulnerability has deepened my relationships in unexpected ways, fostering a sense of safety and trust that allows us to explore the beautiful complexity of our connections.

    I no longer equate urgency with care. Instead, I ask, Can this connection honor my healing pace? That question alone has brought more clarity than some relationships ever could. It’s taught me the power of setting boundaries and recognizing when a relationship fuels my spirit versus when it drains my energy.

    Spirit-Led Slow Living

    This season, I’ve been deepening my relationship with prayer, meditation, and the quiet art of slowing down. I used to think rest was the reward. Now I know it’s the way. Meditation isn’t always serene. Sometimes it’s tears. Sometimes it’s silence that says, “you’re safe now.” I’ve learned that God often speaks in the pauses between breaths, not just in the outcomes I used to chase. There is a different kind of wisdom that rises when you stop rushing. It invites you to savor life’s moments, to appreciate the beauty in the mundane, and to embrace stillness as a teacher.

    In this letting go of haste, I’ve begun to uncover the richness of my inner landscape—thoughts, feelings, dreams—and allowed them to unfold naturally.

    Holding Space for Myself

    As a therapist, I’ve witnessed transformation in others. But this year, I’ve been asked to be the witness for myself. To name my desires. To grieve what never happened. To celebrate how far I’ve come—even if no one else sees the full stretch. Healing is a personal journey, and each step brings me closer to my authentic self, reminding me that I am not defined by my past, but rather by my resilience.

    August reminds me that healing doesn’t have to be complete to be worthy. I can be tender and powerful. Grieving and grateful. Longing and whole. This dance of contradictions is where I find my strength, my joy, and my truth.

    To You, Reader:

    If you are navigating change—be it in your body, your boundaries, your beliefs—I hope you honor the pauses. I hope you let softness find you. I hope you remember that your pace is not a problem. It’s part of your becoming. Each step along this path is significant, and each moment of reflection is a gift to be cherished.

    Let August be an altar. Not to who you used to be, but to the soul you’re still discovering. Embrace this time of introspection, allowing it to guide you into deeper understanding and appreciation of both yourself and the intricate tapestry of life that connects us all.

    Always, with grace and truth.

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

    @TransitionalPathwaysPLLC

    Where healing is sacred and intimacy begins with you.

  • Significant Losses; Reflection.

    #NewThings: Embracing the newness of things. Learning to let our light shine after dark times and during the difficult moments. Learning how to want the better while unlearning the hurt of our wounds. Healing is not a measurement of how good things are going in your present.

    Trust yourSelf more with each decision you’ve made to be where you are. Love comes and how it flows for you is the healing process. We’re always evolving…our healing is a journey. Level up with grace. God is intimately intentional.

    I’m still moving within my goal word for this year: trusting mySelf. Try your best not to minimize any parts of your life. You are worthy of your work—even when it is difficult.

    Growth and healing will continue to be a hard process. Grief, loss is seemingly consistent; often it brings and leaves us in places unfamiliar. Do not lose your way in fearing what’s next. Learn to be, with love.

    I am reminded of the gentleness and generosity of #God. Grief does not miss anyone. We lose our love Ones. We want something entirely different than this type of loss. Although as painful as it is, grief and healing is not about forgetfulness or any particular destination. I encourage you to see yourSelf, to allow healing into those hidden places and within your prayers. Do not minimize where you are…you’re worthy of healing and of love. I pray your day leads you to nurturing and replenishing your soul. You’re worth of your journey.

    This work week has been a tremendous time of grief and loss —staying present with others as I proactively listen and assist them in their grieving process is challenging; in reflection, it does my heart well.

    “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being. Karl Jung, psychiatrist

    Take care to take care of you. Do those things that comfort your soul. I see you. I love you.

    Intimately worded,

    ~Michelle

    Vulnerability will guide you—you choose. 💕💕

    #GoodGrief #Loss #Transitions #HeartWork #RequireMore #Love #InnerWork #Healing #BeGentleWithYourSelf #Growth #FindYourYes #TrustYourProcess #SelfAdvocacy #BelieveBetter #Women #BlackWomen #Coffee #Therapy #MoveMountains #LevelsToThis #EmotionalWellness

  • Freeing…a healing journey

    Pain has purpose, I hear that a great deal. I believe the statement to be true. Pain has purpose and I’m learning to heal with it: the pain and the purpose of the pain. I’m learning that quietness and confidence leads toward greater strength. I’m following grace and no longer leading grace. It has been another Earth Year, another birthday. I smile. I reflect. I pray. I breathe deeply and I praise God for all of intricate, unearthing, undoing and unlearning of 52 years. I am honoring my journey more.

    I scheduled a few days off to celebrate my birthday; however none of the week slowed down, my stillness was high jacked and I found it difficult to sit, to deep breathe. I believe we often take for granted the days we’re given and the time we are to spend with one another.

    Our souls will get weary, our physical gets tired and the mental fatigue with personal and professional life is challenging. I do not often want to go, go, go. I’m learning to not grow bitter in my living. I’m learning to release those and their actions when being helpful, productive turns towards hostility.

    What I know: I have become very protective of my time. I have learned to value it more. I long for moments of solitude, of quietness. I do not feel like I need to be seen for you to “see” me. #Epiphany

    I’m unlearning that my softer isn’t weakness and I’m loving this part of my growing 50s. I’m doing things different and hopefully, better. #Smile I will celebrate this birthday without a flood of anxiety and busyness. I’ve scheduled me an integrative Thai Massage and I’ll spend a day with a friend lunching and antiquing in a small town…next month. I encourage you to trust the bigger of these days, the good things of this life. Love yourSelf better and those good humans you want/and or have will always find you.

    I pray that you see your miracles, live your answered prayers and love your healing path. Knowing that we want to heal and need to heal does not protect us from doing the work. Healing is hard, life grows difficult in most parts of our journey; trust where you are. I beg you not to start over just begin where you are, begin again in those moments. I love you. I see you. ~Michelle

    “When the time is right, I, The Lord, will make it happen.” Isaiah 60:22.

    Reader Takeaway: Pay attention to how people pull at you and what they pull from you. What parts of you are you giving away? How much does that particular giving wounds your soul?

  • This Doesn’t Feel New: Anxiety

    Sundays are my favorite, always has been my favorite day of the week. Last week, I awoke with #panic. I experienced a panic attack at 4:09 a.m. I haven’t had a panic attack in over 15 years. I am the best at coping, at righting my wrongs and at times the desire to perfect my surroundings will get the best of me. I have a lot going on; I believe we all do.

    It is now March and this Year doesn’t feel so refreshing to me. It’s as if I’m starting over to start over. I’m beginning to get stuck in the hard parts. What is #new isn’t stagnant, its moving and it is not overwhelming. Everything is weird, good weird. I’m internally grateful. It all seems rather uncertain, better and yet undefinable. Four years ago, I was working towards my licensing and no panic attacks doing every thing “right” to make sure I achieved my goals. Perfectionism isn’t the goal yet our thoughts will force those habits to occur. Then again nor were we living in a Pandemic nor was I a working therapist. Anxiety hits us so differently and unexpectedly. I can tell you I’m thrown off of the balance I believed I had achieved. I feel guilty that I experienced a panic attack.

    I’ve come a long way. I know I have. My bond with my #Sister-friendships have deepened even though there has been significant heartbreak for us all. Panic attacks are happening to the greatest of us…it is weird when we’re the strength of our families. My love shows more when I am unable to therapy those I love. (Your therapist friend cannot be your therapist.) I love in so many other ways and I’m proud of my Sister-Queens for understanding that, for being there for me in ways they may not fully comprehend.

    I remain extremely busy yet I love seeing the breakthroughs. One patient, older, has scheduled a face to face session in office for next month. They live several hours away. Patient: “I just want to see you. I’m getting out more this year. Imma fix myself up and make a trip of it. This Zoom ain’t it for everything. Can I see you in office?”

    I love and require the guidance I receive from those I am connected to, my Spiritual Advisor. Her: “Send me your spiritual goals. I want to pray for those same things you want.” My heart smiles. #Heartwork So I’m not so far off course yet this panic attack has me reflecting on where I am, mentally. My heart is healing, my intentions are pure, my soul is unlearning what I theorize as the Black Woman Syndrome. I surely do miss my mother.

    Continue to take your moments; stop seizing the day when your Well is leaking. I take my moments when my teen daughter asks for her pictures when she was 6 years old for a school project. I take my moments when my son drops off my granddaughter so he can shoot ball and our habits become a group text about how and who is the meanest. Koda, Sir Pup continues to argue with his big self. Brutus’ voice is deeper, he’s taller and is frustrated because I purchased Cheerwine instead of 7UP.

    Our struggles do not have to become so weighted that we lose the truth of who we are. Trust your give, continue to do your work. Be gentle with your soul again. Trust your Self, even through this and each time your soul is stretched. God doesn’t pile up the heaviness…we neglect to release those things to Him. Be mindful of your words. How are you treating You? #SoulImage

    Intimately Worded,

    ~Michelle

  • Graced For More

    Committing to writing has always been an adventurous discipline for me. Forgive me for not posting as quickly as my experiences occur. I am ever so grateful for the way Life is treating me and faithfully attuned to how God stands in the gaps of my unknowing.

    August, my birthday month has been revolutionary! My 49th year began with decisions, doubts and quiet fear. Those things I kept to myself, internalizing the eternal. My last post I detailed my journey in participating in #31DaysOfPrayer; which generated a great deal of evolving. The Spiritual growth process is unusual and unique, rather intimate. My spiritual life has been enlightening, very different than assumed. We’re all given foundations, taught standards and one or several events will set us on a meta trajectory with our own beliefs changing and/or becoming more.

    I gifted myself a spa treatment. I’ve never had one before and expected service like that of a standard massage treatment. My time there was/is unequivocally a required life-essential. The care I received increased my strength in becoming better in my love of self—acknowledging the existence of how I’ve allowed abuse, sadness and humanness cause a permanence of take-aways.

    The outside doesn’t appear as much to look at yet the facility is tranquil once you enter. How do you treat yourself? Is the first question prompted within the waiting area. I was greeted with warmth, kindness and served Watermelon Basil Water. #fancy I chose the Summer Scrub Treatment followed by a facial treatment. Yes, I still have acne!! Which blows my mind for I never had acne issues as a teen or during pregnancy.

    I’m directed to this beautiful room where water is running slowly in a copper tin tub. The room is soft, full of earthy colors: browns, creamy white and greenery. I’ve yet to relax. There’s a great deal of anxiety even with expecting this type of care.

    The process was gentle. The care exceptional. I’ve never been cared for in such a manner. #Sisters, we serve everyone. We are nurturers. It’s what we do, how we are. As I explained to my eldest: “My first 7 years I cannot remember but no one has ever washed me. Ever. I’ve taken care of others, washed and massaged them. No one has ever cared for me in such a way. It solidified that I want to be wealthy with life. I want to be able to do those type things for myself.”

    Him: “It must be hard for you. To know that you were never loved in that manner. I mean I can’t remember but I know that I was cared for in that way because you tell me. Grandma told me. I know I was loved, am loved. But to know that you were not. Man, Momma. You should be able to do that at least 2x a year.”


    My attendant requested permission to wash my stomach…4 babies, 6 surgeries, numerous stretch marks, c-sect scar, weight gain…I cried, silently. Every negative thing, thought, image was lifted away from me. How shameful I’ve treated myself. It’s all connected—our mental, physical, spiritual and emotional health. Soul-neglecting has to be our greatest betrayal of self. How unknowingly cruel we are, can be.

    As I returned back into my work week, I experienced some soreness, tenderness when I moved. Not painful but just enough to remember the experience as it transpired. We’re not here to just touch others’ lives, to serve others. Be mindful of how you’re representing your soul. We’re not created to take in everything and hold on to it. How are you treating yourself?

    Don’t confuse self-care with maintenance, those things we do to maintain a “finished” look. I am uncomfortable yet grounded…forging and purged…leveling up. I’m unsettled in settling. That makes my soul smile. {Ecclesiastes 3}

    #BeAWholeMovement

    “Trust me when I say, You’re capable of anything imaginable.” ~Anonymous

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

  • For She Loved Much

    This weekend I am off (this is so rare) and I sat on my patio…felt the breeze of the wind on my skin, I did not have to rush anywhere. No counseling, no assignments. The weather was unexpected– cooler than it has been. I noticed the blue of the sky, the green of the leaves on the trees…my recently planted peppers are starting to bloom, my flowers not so much. I breathe. I smile. Daily I commit to reading my Bible, as well as some different devotional books. In reading the excerpt in the Bible of Jesus raising a Dead Girl and healing a Sick Woman, Matthew 9:18-25, a couple of things placed me in a thoughtful mode. Women are powerful and oftentimes how we are is marginalized or interpreted less than positive. During my reading, I tend to analyze and associate my life with the lives of the women in the Bible. Not perfect but faithful. I am far from a Biblical Scholar; however, I am forever a student.

    Nowhere in the Bible was a woman isolated –left alone. Even when Hagar ran—ready to give up, desperate to get away, to die even with her child: God sent her back. He promised her better yet He did not explain how it was going to get better.  He was sending her back to what she was running from. She went back; she obeyed…blows my mind each time I read it.

    Of my experiences, I know abuse of any kind left unchecked will affect different levels of our lives within different phases. Our childhood despite great parenting may and will dissipate; melt into an intangible, become creased with pain, often sadness will occur, coupled with unworthiness and suspicion. What we learn and what we know due to our experiences will become a part of us –it all keeps us—often we use “it” as a protective barrier.

    We, women, we isolate a lot. We pull away. I know I keep the broken pieces hidden well. Through the years and yes it has been years I am learning that transitioning from the emotions of girl-like deadness to continuous healing, to vowing to live and love complete is work. #soulwork I am learning that I have learned to accept rejection –my way, with my own definition. It is difficult to re-frame, remove and grow in your healing. There are different aspects, camouflages we self-incorporate in order to mask what we know, what we will not acknowledge as well as to what we hold on to. #heartwork

    “Don’t be so loyal to your suffering that healing doesn’t stand a chance.” ~ginamoffia.com

    In the times of our deepest pain, the assurance of God’s presence can provide comfort, a comfort that without our knowing commensurate with current and past pain. He is All-Knowing. The great thing is even in our moments of desperation, we tend to develop a genuine confidence in our Higher Power, certain of His power to heal, to make things better. Within my desperation, my faith is undeniable; faith is my driving force regardless of my circumstances. I was told once that my faith was wonderful…this weekend I am leaning towards believing that.

    Back to the strength of women, we are nurtures, we love: the woman with the issue of blood, her condition is desperate both for medical reasons and because of its social consequences; her ostracism would extend even to her private life, she was alone, isolated in her being, within her illness.  Yet, her faith trusted her to not make herself known, not to call for Him but to press forward within a crowd of people to touch,  just touch the hem of His garment. Her faith, her belief in the possible was her healing.

    I encourage you to push pass any significant pain that causes insecurity, anything that is less befitting of your future. All may not go as we plan or how we hope—do not allow confusion to outweigh your perhaps. Press forward, hope for greater and above all keep going. Pursue your healing, evolve with His promises…allow healing to persist and remain present. Be better in getting better, for we love much. {Luke 7:47}

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

  • Embracing the Future

    Throughout my social media outlets and the way I choose to live my life—I would be remiss to not acknowledge the difficulty of transitions.  I have encouraged and will continue to encourage the process of transitioning …at this moment I feel as if I am tirelessly transitioning and it seems in the most difficult yet aimless way. It hurts. It is lonely and it is tiring. I know that my emotions are temporary. I’ve’ been holding it together for so long and all alone that at this point in my life I feel as if throughout the years that all my working is culminating in me grasping at pieces.

    Transitioning is a journey that is quite intrusive at times.  So many different phases to it yet it is purposely unequivocally predestined and purposed. Reflecting, I know that the choices we make ultimately are a reflective of  our wants, wishes, dreams and hopes. How those choices play out are God’s options and opportunities of freewill resulting in continuance and evolutionary progress. #selfacceptance

    I do not speak much about being a single mother not from shame or out of the need of setting an example. I believe I do not because it is the biggest part of me and the status of motherhood is my most honorable to date. I attended my graduation a few weeks ago— sorry for the delay in posting. #transitions

     

     

    I believe the photos speak volumes of the love of my family, what my tribe exhibits. Achieving my degrees while raising four of the greatest individuals is one of my greatest accomplishments. They are so proud of me and I am so mom-appreciative of them. The two oldest ones are becoming great men—other than my father—the greatest I’ll ever love. My daughter, my one and only is by far the gentlest and genius warrior of her generation. My youngest, my Brutus is all of them in one body.  Wow! I have a Masters in the professional field of my purpose. My mornings and days are different. I have been “working” for so long at times I am quite disturbed my all this time I have to be, to do, to grow, to bond and to love without deadlines…it is simply amazing. #Counseling #Therapy #mytribe

    When it turns cold and rainy and your way is unseeable…learn to enjoy those moments your best possible way—it is your challenge to grow—in strength, in self-examination, in self-awareness. God brings us exactly what we need whether we realize it or not. Do not worry if what you see ahead does not quite add up. Go to your heart, act and react accordingly. Listen. Sometimes within there, in your heart place, sits a request for a deliberate inaction.

    “But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping His promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance.” 2 Peter 3:8-9

    “Trust and act on the guidance you have now, and more will come.” Melody Beattie

     Intimately Worded,

    Michelle

  • My Ragged Bible

    my ragged bible

    Sunday mornings are my love.  I am ashamed that I haven’t written this year. Forgive me. As I sit here meditating, reading the word, and other reading tools that help me go deeper into God’s word I notice my Bible. I notice how worn it is, how the tears, nicks and picks have crept in over the years. I notice how the binder has completely ripped and the back of my Bible, my ragged Bible is falling apart. I notice how the faces of the women appear bubbled, out of focus and I smile. Well I tear up and smile.

    The appearance of  my Bible is a replica of my worn-torn, war –wearied, heartbroken-heart and healed/healing soul. God has watched over me. God has pushed me; He has talked to me and He has loved me because He promised He would. His capacity to love us without the pull of guilt or you owe keeps me hinged to Him. God gives value to our souls.

    In reflection, I purchased this Bible on July 7, 2007 and inside I wrote, “To understand God, you have to spend time with God.” (How God works.)  I began studying more of the Word in an effort to save the beginnings of a crumbling marriage; we had not made it to the seven-year mark. I wanted to find solace in the One Belief I trusted…if I just prayed hard enough—I would not break my vows. God could still trust me with the big things. I yearned for the big things. God will turn our selfishness into His greatest opportunities. Oh, how things got worse the closer I became to God. We were divorced two years later. Nevertheless, my Bible was still intact, still looked new.

    My journey to return to school as a Business Major, older and as a single parent of four was challenging. Many a night, this Bible was read, yet not felt. We are required to read, to study, to show ourselves approved. I cannot tell you when the binder ripped but it hurt when it did. I refused to tape it, to add anything to it to fix it. I let it be —I just carry the pieces together. (How God works.)  Recently, my Masters in Clinical Mental Health Counseling was granted on March 1, 2018. You would think He and I are even…that I have done the work and all is now within the realm of completion. The master’s program journey was devastating. It tore me apart and put me back together so different than I expected. My thought, let’s let the blessings flow, Jehovah. (Laugh) Nope, smh. I have submitted my application for certification in Clinical Pastoral Education—to be educated in spiritual care. I am not a minister…yet my gift is to care for those who are.

    I am so far out of my comfort level. Shoot, I have been for years. These next steps of my life are huge and I am terrified. I am alone. This past week, I have endured so many attacks, spiritual attacks. It has been a whoa-Jesus kinda week. So much so that my deceased parents have visited me in my dreams. My mom, “You’re taking care of everyone else. Don’t lose sight.”  My Dad, “You’re’ not alone. Stick with it, Michelle.”

    Yet, my ragged Bible, this ragged Bible, my, “Aspire, the new Women of Color Study Bible.” My ragged Bible is in pieces, tattered, pages bent, filled with love notes written by my kids; highlighted words that hem my heart…written for purpose of guidance, written for purpose to encourage, written for the purpose to build, written for the purpose to heal…my ragged Bible, is written for the purpose to initiate and cultivate purpose.

    Our need, our individual want to prosper, to be better in life, to live brighter than yesterday cannot be done without Him. I encourage you to find your niche and allow God to incorporate the work, the journey; the balance required to live your greatest life. Again, I write, “To understand God, you have to spend time with God.”

    Each time I read the story of Jesus healing, the man born blind I receive a number of different insights. My favorite verse, John 9:3, “Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the work of God might displayed in his life.” This had to happen. Our things had to happen. Our must go through is required. Know that what has become increasingly clear to me is that without self-evidence, without the pain and heartache, without the disappointments, the hurt, without the journey, without painful, historical insight I could not share with you that prayer —our relationship with God —is the very breathe of our greatest human existence. Spend some time with Him, your way.

    Intimately Worded,

    Michelle