A New Day: My Story of Broken to Healed

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Less than 3 years ago I was sitting in a hostel in Barcelona in a bunkbed.

I had a dream that I was to quit real estate, like not actively participate in it anymore. I had just carried a duffel across western Europe and little did I know how much that experience would change my life. It was also on that bed that I first saw Toure Roberts speak via youtube. Up until then my relationship with God was outside of institutions because well I had let go of a really closed minded institution. I grew up going to church and I didn’t realize how legalistic most churches were until I finally left 6 plus years ago.

And I saw God like I never saw Him before. Gracious, fatherly, loving, generous, slow to anger, quick to love, quick to extend a hand. 

Then like a snake, I shed everything. I shed my career, I shed my relationship, I shed some friendships, I shed my apartment, I shed my prized super comfy sofa that I really loved, I shed almost everything, the forks and plates.

I had built my life on a lie, that I wasn’t enough. 

And God would speak into those insecurities and continue to speak “you are enough right here and right now” in the next days, next year, and so forth.

I learned to love myself in the darkest places of my heart. I learned to be okay with emotions, you know the ugly ones…emotions like “Hey you hurt me” or “hey that hurt, I mind that you said that”. I learned to VALUE my voice. 

Because even now when I tell people what I’m going through they quickly remark “you are victorious” instead of being there with me in the pain. I have learned that not many people are comfortable with facing their place of pain. Reading “No More Faking Fine” has taught me to lament, to struggle with God in the pain, to be okay not being okay.  

And obviously we all hate it when people complain too much or dwell on their pain 24 hours, we hate it…yah, that’s another issue, but some of us, like me, never learned to lament.

In the months and year of feeling like “nothing was happening” God was actually healing me and replacing the lie of “I’m not enough” to “I belong, I am enough. I am loved and accepted right here and right now”. 

And in doing so, I no longer needed the attention of people…of men, or the desire to need to be wanted or chased by potential partners. I no longer needed acceptance from people. And yah, I still have insecurities here and there but I feel different, I feel at peace with who I am now. 

No longer chasing things, opportunities, friends, potential friends, potential mates…I sunk deeper into God’s unconditional love for me. 

I would no longer be defined by my accomplishments and accolades but by the tiny and still voice of “enough” and “love”.

I found God’s love to be deeply captivating, deeply protective, silently powerful. 

The breakthrough is here. The breakthrough is you. The breakthrough is YOU knowing who you really truly are.

Wealth Comes From The Heart

Wealth comes from the heart. 

Somehow I have been given this unique gift of sensing the heart…I have found that wealth comes from the heart.

Counterfeit wealth is veiled with splendor, bling, things that look wealthy, but comes from the spirit of poverty.

In the eyes of a young woman, sitting and eating my tacos, I saw a homeless person with his bike, in his own world. Half crazy, yet half happy, content in his reality. Then I saw families, buying tacos, happy and content. I went to a beautiful house and saw that wealth hardens people, and that there was poverty in both poor and wealthy. Even though everything was shiny on the outside, new, replicas of ancient furnitures, I could sense a spirit of poverty. This ever seeking of “not enough”, I am not so sure of. My deeper philosophical mind wants to ponder this disparity, yet I could only start to count my blessings.

I could only start to appreciate the way I grew up, I could only start to appreciate all the hardships I have gone through, working full time while going to school to pay off tuition, selling makeup under school desks, jewelry in trunks, I could only start to appreciate the little things. I could only start to appreciate the beautiful nights dancing away my simple life, the days backpacking and snorkeling in exotic parts of the world, adding up the bills I had to pay and wondering where the money would come from, not knowing how I would survive, but still having that faith that could throw a mountain into an ocean…I could only appreciate my simple creativity and zest for life. I could only appreciate having the wisdom to understand any persons, from 0 to 100, being able to relate on any level, listening and appreciating the human story of pain and joy.

Sometimes I feel cursed that I can read someone so well, with just one conversation.  I can feel their misery, their secret story of “not enough”, their constant strivings, their secret joys, their dreams…maybe someday they think…I hear these stories softly being spoken with nonverbal glances. Seek and you will find, I say. True treasures lie in your heart. 

And I continue, writing my heart out, so I can share the wealth that is within me.

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I had a dream the other day about going to someone’s house. I interpreted I was not letting my true self out, that I was suffocating. It’s okay to come out and let the world know who you really are. Where is your house? Where is your heart?

No Bullshit- Letters To the Sane

The need to be normal is the predominant anxiety disorder in modern life. —Thomas Moore, Original Self 

I can feel the wind howling at me, it was all good. If the weather agreed with my inner ranting, then I could say that I was virtually sane.

“I’m saying this because a lot of people are thinking this. Why should I give to her when I have to work 9 to 5 and she gets to travel?”- a family said.

“I’m working too you know. I’m working everyday”- I said.

Does my pieces of art that took me a month to complete mean nothing to the world? Does my writing, my ranting, my art mean nothing compared to staring at a screen in an office all day? Does my longing for beauty mean that I’m lazy, irresponsible, and a complete idiot? 

I sat staring at my coffee, trying to hold back my tears but only hearing the song “maybe you were born with it”. I can’t help that I was born with a vagina or that I have always had this crazy obsession with the outcasted, lonely, weird people. I can’t help that at the age of 14 I wanted to travel the world and obliterate human trafficking; I wanted to run into homes where women were being beaten senseless and bring justice and healing to them. 

After the car started, I wanted to weep. I wanted to yell and so I did. I yelled “MOTHERFUCKER!!!” and then I thought “do you know how many times I prayed that God would take me, or how many times I prayed that I would be normal, have normal desires for a normal life. Do you know how many times I wished upon a star that I wasn’t chosen, that I was just a normal person that could marry young and have kids and age and die? Do you know how many times I wish I didn’t have these abnormal desires to save little children, change the world and be someone really famous and incredible?”

I can’t help that I’m abnormal you know?

And it’s not like I like not having discretionary income. I mean no one enjoys not being able to buy things. So I guess you can only ask yourself, well then why the hell are these crazy people living the way they are- because we really can’t be anyone else dude.

I was encouraged when I saw these cacti today. They were so beautiful, yet they hardly need any water. They can survive the toughest drought and so can artists who see beauty where there is none.