I need to cry. I need to grieve. I have been walking around with a lump in my throat for so long that it is barely noticeable to me anymore. When the separation process started I did not have time to grieve, I was too busy putting out fires. I had two little girls to stay strong for, I had a job to go to and a face to put on. I never once took a day off to just stay in bed and cry. I hit the ground running, strong black woman that I am. I was determined that he would not take me down, that I would persevere through it all. I proclaimed to the world, “No weapon formed against me shall prosper” and “I am more than a conqueror.” I have built a fortress around me that rivals Fort Meade, Fort Bragg and Fort Detrick combined. But now, I need to cry. I need to grieve. It’s time to breathe and break free of all that holds me back. As I now work to face the feelings, my hurts and my pains I can understand why people turn to alcohol, drugs and other vices to numb themselves. Before this trial, I had no empathy for them; I considered them weak for falling into such destruction. Now I understand because the pain is mind-numbing and life altering. Thankfully, I have an intimate relationship with God and turned to Him. However, I must question if my walls have kept Him at arms length as well. With heartache comes revelation.
So today, I press on and work to pull down the bricks of my fortress. This blog is part of it all, the masks must come off and the walls will come down. As the feelings surface I will face the pain instead of pushing through it. I am not strong, I cannot do this alone, but my Father who lives in heaven is my rock and my shield – He will bring me through.
Matthew 5:4 - NIV – “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted”