The belief was the entire system my spirituality was built. If I didn't see it, I would still believe it. No matter how bad life got, as long as you had faith in the size of a mustard seed, I was still winning. I found myself believing through trial, tribulation, storm, and the rain, through the hurt and the pain, only to feel like I was losing. The positive self-talk did not prepare me for the season of discouragement I went through. I was a true believer. To do God's will was my only focus. Other people wanted material gain but me, “ I wanted to be pleasing in God's sight.” I never understood what was so difficult about that? Why was it so painful? Why was I so lonely and felt misunderstood? It seemed nobody supported the vision. I felt disliked because of it. I became one of the most talked-about people for trying to do Good. The work itself wasn't exhausting because I loved it. To be talked about, lied on, mistreated, abandoned, unsupported, and disrespected by those you love, admired, looked up to, and depend on, was traumatic to my soul.
I don't care how spiritual a person is; your first reaction to pain is natural. My natural man had a Jesus in Gethsemane moment. I found myself praying, “God, if this cup of torment can pass from me, let it be.” I just wanted to be loved, understood, appreciated, supported, and not so alone. When God didn't answer, and the gossip, the lies, and the hate didn't stop, I found myself saying, “there is no way, this is meant to be.” At that exact moment, I stopped believing. I stopped believing in the call. I stopped believing in the mission. I stopped believing in the work. I stopped believing in everything I ever said. I had a hard life and made myself believe in more than I could handle only because my spirituality’s entire foundation was based on believing. I no longer believed. I told myself I was going to finish what I started, and that will be the end. Half my life was now over, and I no longer believed. Maybe I was giving the people what they wanted. Perhaps all of this was just an attempt to stop me. Well, it was working. Unless God can show me one reason why I should believe, I had nothing left in me to fight.
One day I heard God's voice say… "Who asked you to fight?” I sent you to heal, not to fight. I'm sending you to teach, not to fight. I’m equipping you to restore, not to fight. Get your eyes off your enemies and keep your eyes on the broken, the lost, and the wounded. You let me, “God,” the one who is sending you, worry about the fight. They fight against me; Not you. You were so intertwined with what was the opposite of what I called you to do that I had to rip what you were comfortable doing away from you. You still wanted them to accept you, but I have caused the rejection for the disconnection.
As I wallowed in my pity for the moment listening to that voice speak to my spirit, God showed me a memory of when my granddaughter was 9 years old. She told me she was proud of me and will always support what I do for God. The tears begin to overtake me because my mind went to Joshua after Moses had died, and God commanded HIM to cross the NEWER GENERATION over into the promise. His words to him were ONLY be strong...He didn't tell him to fight. I was so worried about a generation of people that God had called me out of, and I wasn't focusing on the generation ahead. The generation I was chosen to bring healing. The work he arranged explicitly for me. I was in the midst of Jordan, already crossing into the promise. The waters are rough, but I still have to cross. The generation that is trailing me is depending on me, says the Lord. To all of you who may be struggling with the belief in yourself or your call, know if God called you to it, God will get you through it. Only believe!
Tonya
Lovely Lady Magazine