How Forgiving God Transformed My Life

Dear Friend,

It’s been a while, but now I’m back with clarity. If you’ve been following me closely, you know why I went ghost in July. However, if you don’t know, I was tired. The last four years have been hard for me. While you may have witnessed me show up and thriving, I’ve also been honest to say that the journey of following God has been traumatizing.

When I was first saved, people told me this was a decision I wouldn’t regret. When I got baptized in 2014, people cheered me on. When I was filled with Holy Spirit, people were excited. Yet, when the dust settled and all the fanfare quieted, I had many questions and not enough answers. I was left with the hope and testimonies of others but the doubt that God would do anything for me.

I started my journey with God 10 years ago; each year has been challenging. I don’t tell you this to vent or even deter you; I tell you to let you know you are not alone if it has been hard for you, too.

I’ve made more mistakes than I can count. I’ve lost people who I wanted to hold on to. I was stripped of long seasons of happiness. I felt like I was always fighting and losing. I was overlooked by people who I wanted to notice me. I’ve cried more times than not. I’ve given up weekly. I’ve done it all because if we’re honest, following God into destiny can make you feel unstable.

And while we know that a double-minded man is unstable in all his ways, what about the person walking on water? Aren’t they unstable, too? Consider Peter.

Instability has been my close friend for a while now. When I set my mind to follow God—because it is with the mind that we serve the Lord (Romans 7:25)—I didn’t realize that I was signing up for a life of instability. The very nature of following forces us there, whether we want to go or not.

Following God has challenged me to leave my hometown.

Following God has challenged me to move to Texas without a plan.

The following has challenged me to leave my career.

Following God has forced me to abandon the life I knew to take hold of a life I didn’t even know to dream of.

This is where we left off the last time you heard from me in June. For the last year, you saw me dying to myself in real-time. You bore witness to the pain that I was carrying. You watched because what else could you do?

So, you’re probably wondering where I am now.

Well, I’m in many different places and the same place simultaneously.

I’ll start with the hard truth first.

Nothing new has opened up for me like I thought, especially since I received a prophetic word that it would by this time. I thought that since I officially turned in my formal career resignation in December and ended my career on June 30th, God, indeed, would have opened a door for me in July. When the 16-week deadline that was prophesied rolled around and passed, I was disappointed again. This was the second time someone gave me a timeframe that didn’t come to pass. When it happened this time, I was silent. I didn’t have the words to speak. It was like someone had stolen my voice and stolen my hope again.

Yet, God gave me another command, and this time, it was to “Live.” Ezekial 16:6 illustrates the season of my life perfectly: “When I passed by you and saw you squirming in your [newborn] blood, I said to you while you were there in your blood, ‘Live!’ Yes, I said to you while you were there in your blood, ‘Live!’” Like a newborn learning to breathe air and not the fluids in the womb, I found myself squirming and gasping for air. Trying to catch my breath in an unknown world. Desperately searching for the warmth of confort, only to be given the sterile coldness.

This whole time, I’ve been being forced out of the womb that I had outgrown, and any mother will tell you that birth is a painful and bloody experience. This whole time, God held me up because my legs weren’t strong enough. And just like He gave a command to the sun, moon, and stars that are still obeying, I, too, obeyed and lived.

Of course, I spent some time licking my wounds and coping with the reality that another prophecy had fallen to the ground. I struggled because I couldn’t figure out what went wrong. I contended for the word to come to pass. I obeyed. I tried to live disciplined. I did all the things, but nothing happened. It didn’t work. Nothing happened again. The words fell to the ground before me, and I looked up at the sky with tears streaming down my face because I had nothing else.

But maybe, just maybe, I have everything.

You may not have ever been in the place I’m describing, but it’s not somewhere you want to be. Seeing life pass you by is not fun, and you’re in what feels like a never-ending holding pattern.

Looking back, I’m grateful that I learned about the power and importance of tears years ago. Though I don’t want to cry, I welcome their presence with compassion and understand that tears aren’t signs of weakness but signs that I’m alive. I used to be someone who bottled up all my feelings and regularly shut down. As time passed, I didn’t know how to open up again. When I started going to therapy and my therapist would ask me to identify a feeling, I couldn’t. I was locked up inside of myself. I couldn’t break free. I was the caged bird that Maya Angelou spoke about. Nowadays, I welcome a good ole cry.

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In July, I remember conversing with my mom as I drove down the highway. That morning, she asked me how I was faring, and I said, “It feels like my life has stopped, and the world has gone on without me.” For the first time, I wasn’t in the race. For the first time, I didn’t know the rules of the game I was expected to play. There were no instructions, no cheat sheet. I’ve never been this way before. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like a sitting duck. I was waiting as if I were prey. I was shook. Terrified.

While processing that, I was also in the middle of another transition. Not only did I end my career this summer, but I also moved to another apartment in the DFW area. The relocation was complicated; nothing was going according to plan, and there were so many things happening and still happening. As a result, all I could do was wake up and try to make it through the day, the hour, the minute. One day, it dawned on me that I had forgotten to breathe.

“Where is my faith?” I asked myself.

What I didn’t realize then that I realize now is that that was faith in action. I’ve walked by faith, not sight, for the last few years. I’ve been taking up my cross and following God (Matthew 16:24). I’ve been walking on water, with every cell in my body morphing without my permission. I’ve been journeying. I recklessly abandoned everything I knew in pursuit of God’s idea of me.

I was in this state until we stepped into August. Somehow, on August 1st, something just switched. While I can’t put my finger on the change just yet, my perspective has shifted.

One of my favorite quotes comes from Octavia E. Butler: “Blank paper is God’s way of showing us that it’s not easy to be God.” Indeed, there is a blank page before me. I’m at the point in my life where I have paid the price to become a servant, and as a result, I have transitioned from being a servant to being a friend of God. I’ve moved into the realm of co-creation. I’ve been elevated, but only with another challenge.

I had to forgive God.

Since the last few years have slapped the taste out of my mouth, I didn’t realize I harbored resentment and anger towards Him. I resented Him for calling me into deeper waters. With every failed prophetic word, a part of my trust left, too. I’ve long felt that while God hasn’t failed me in a significant way, there have been minor letdowns that led to extreme disappointment and mistrust. Everything adds up.

How do you follow someone you don’t trust? How do you purely love if that love is tainted by pain? Is it pure? How do you move forward? How do you become without forgiving first?

To freely move on this new level, I’ve had to do the hard work of forgiving God. It has been one of the more difficult things to do, but it has also been the most freeing. I had to admit that He has let me down, and I’ve been struggling to find the courage to continue showing up. For someone who was wildly courageous, losing courage grounded me. Every time, I would try to mount up with wings like eagles, run and not be weary, walk and not faint, but it didn’t work. I kept falling to my knees. The math didn’t math. I kept coming up short. I kept missing the target because I was weak. I didn’t have enough strength to carry myself, but He kept commanding me to live.

So I did.

Ultimately, this summer has been about admitting I never wanted this life. I obeyed my way into hardship, uncertainty, and a season where I might have to be fed by ravens (see 1 Kings 17). I have no footing. I’ve been trying to stabilize in quicksand. I’m learning how to fly, but in my heart, I needed to forgive God for the journey.

I needed to learn how to love Him and me boldly.

The Bible tells us that those who worship God must do so in spirit and in truth (John 4:24). The truth is that I harbored unforgiveness toward my creator, and the truth is that I needed to work through it.

I’ve finally made it to the other side of my resentment. I’ve finally accepted that there is no going back.

I’m committed to learning to fly unburned by unforgiveness and fear of the unknown.

I’m here, shoulders back, wide-eyed, and hopeful for the first time in a long time.

I came to win. I came to dominate. Let the countdown begin.

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