Sometimes in life, things may seem— to you—disconnected and unrelated. So disjointed. But that is to you. To Me, your life is a puzzle. I see the end and have given you the pieces. The more you seek Me, the more you see Me. The more you see Me, the more pieces you place in the puzzle.
Help me not be like Isaac who ran. Help me stand tall, firm, confident. Give me courage to do Your will, Your work—faith and work. Help me work, oh God! Not nurse work, but deep inner personal work.
It took me 41.5 years to see it—to truly see it. To realize that my name is more than 5 lil letters strung together; it’s a purposeful design, a call to more fully embrace the divine strength within me. Joval actually means ‘divine strength’ or ‘my faith in God is my strength’!
The truth is also simple, though: I am now who I once needed. I didn’t post or share my blog because I first needed to practice being courageous. To say the things I need to say without worrying whose eyes are reading what I’m saying. This blog is my heart on the screen! It’s my deepest prayer, darkest valleys, greatest hopes. It’s sharing my deep longings that yet remain to be fulfilled. This past year has been a practice run of can I really do it? Can I say the things?
Thank You that You communicate so clearly lessons—divine lessons I need—no, that You want and need me to know!
Thank You for honey. On my lips. In my voice, in my heart, on my skin, and in the dimples on my thighs. Thank You that I’m learning to love myself like You love me! Thank You that I’m beautiful—not because of anything I did, but because of who You are!
Hearing is passive. It’s the unintentional act of sound simply existing around us. We hear because we’re alive, because sound waves touch our ears. But in the chaos of hearing, we often miss the beauty and depth of truly connecting with the voices that matter. Conversely, listening is more than the words washing over us. Listening is about diving deeply into the ocean of another’s expression, whether it’s a loved one’s heartfelt story or the quiet whisper of our own inner voice.
I, along with two Black women—one with 20 years of experience and another with over 20—were all pushed out. We were forced into silence. Our voices didn’t matter to those who had the power to hear them. As a Black woman in Amerikkka, I’ll say this: Black and Brown women are often fired for no longer being a “culture fit.” Interesting, isn’t it? We were hired because our excellence preceded us, and yet months or years later, we’re no longer a fit? If (White) folks were truthful with themselves first and with others, are Black and Brown women not a “culture fit,” or are you simply racist or prejudiced?
It takes courage to walk. And despite the fear we may feel, may we not be consumed by it or become it, but may we feel it AND be comforted while we move forward and WALK.
