Choose Your Hard: The Storm, The Shipwreck, and The Snake

Since we serve an all powerful God, why do we know pain?  

Because there would be no rainbow, without the rain. 

And some lessons can only be learned the hard way…

May these Wounds to Wisdom help your pain meet peace today.

“We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.” -Isaiah 53:6

Humility does not mean thinking less of yourself.
Humility is knowing exactly who gave you your power.

It is understanding that every gift, every ounce of strength, every light inside of you came from God… and because it came from Him, you cannot shrink yourself to make other people comfortable.

You cannot dim your light so someone else feels safer in their darkness.

That is not humility.
That is fear disguised as politeness.

And fear has robbed too many people of the life they were meant to live.

I have learned something simple, but costly:

Choose your hard.

Because there is no easy path in life.

Every road costs something.

Staying stuck is hard.
Growing is hard.
Leaving is hard.
Obedience is hard.
Healing is hard.

You just have to decide which hard is worth living with.

Recently, I wrote in my journal that if I did not have Jada, I would have died in Pine Bluff.

And I meant it.

That sentence shook me because it forced me to tell myself the truth.

So many people do not make it out.

For years, I encouraged people to stay.
I thought staying meant loyalty.
I thought staying meant service.

But now I understand something deeper:

Some people who stay… never grow.

And the people who remain to serve must be willing to bleed.

Helping the hood hurts.

Because when you really mean no harm, people often cannot believe it.

Pain has made suspicion normal.
Trauma has made distrust cultural.

We have normalized negative language so deeply that hate sounds ordinary now.

Fear rules our nation.
Fear rules our timelines.
Fear rules our minds.

And because we do not know enough of the Word to fight spiritually, we end up fighting each other.

Killing each other.
Hanging with ghosts from the past.
Trying to rewrite history.

But only God controls how the story ends.

Our job is not to rewrite the ending.

Our job is to control ourselves, trust God, and believe His Word.

That sounds simple… until you begin to apply it.

Because once you actively apply the Word to your life, it feels like dying daily.

Parts of you must go.

Old habits.
Old wounds.
Old thinking.
Old versions of yourself that no longer serve where you are becoming.

Some changes you choose.
Some changes choose you.

Either way, you still must decide how to respond.

The brain hates change.

It wants patterns.
It wants familiarity.
It wants comfort.

I first learned to choose my hard sitting in an abortion clinic in October 2022.

That moment changed me.

And yet, by the end of November, I still chose to go back to the father of that child.

On January 1, 2023, he proposed, and I said yes.

I kept trying to rewrite that love story a thousand different ways.

We met in 2019, but did not begin dating until January 2022.

And after everything I survived in 2021, that relationship felt like hope.

It felt like relief.
It felt like promise.
It felt like something I could hold on to.

And though it was never meant to last, it was still part of my becoming.

That chapter cannot be erased.

Because even what breaks us can teach us.

That relationship gave me wisdom I will pass down for generations.

I wrote about that journey in I Almost Married a Man That Was Never Mine, because some lessons are too costly not to share.

Over time, I had to grow up.

And growing up required letting God teach me.

It was not easy.

But it was never supposed to be.

That is the thing about wilderness seasons:

If you are willing to learn, they will elevate you.

And if my story can help someone else stop circling the same mountain,
then none of it was wasted.

We all have to survive.

But we are never alone.

God desires to give us more.

It just requires us to release the life we keep clinging to,
so our hands are open enough to receive what He has next.

So the real question is:

Do you trust Him?

God will not make your decision for you.

He will invite you.
Stretch you.
Call you higher.

But you must choose.

Every single day.

Will you spend your mind in hell…
or dwell on the things of God?

Because in the same breath that says, “The sky is beautiful,”
you can also curse someone with your words.

The tongue is a double-edged sword.

Are you using it to tear down strongholds and bring light into dark places…
or to wound people you claim to love?

Your words matter.

As a professional, I had to learn discretion.

I also had to learn to believe everyone around me is doing their best.

Some people truly do not know better.
Others do know better… and choose not to change.

Either way, focus on your assignment and do not get distracted. 

God gave you one thing to control: Yourself.

That is where your real work begins.

And if God feels quiet or distant, remember:
the teacher is always silent during the test,
but that does not mean they are not there with you.

Recently, I learned an acronym that made me stop and reflect:

S.H.I.T. — Secrets Hidden in Torment.

Are you handling your shit?

And if you are… is it working?

Because nothing is hidden from God.

And if you have surrendered and asked Him to search your heart,
be ready.

Be ready for the stretching.
The pruning.
The storm.
The shipwreck.
And yes… the snakes.

And while some storms are born from the choices we make, others arrive whether we are ready or not.

My storm began brewing in 2019, the same year I joined my church, Destiny Worship Center.

That year I lost my first student to gun violence, SaTavis Reece.

His daughter was just a baby.

And since then, I have lost too many children to the system to name and count…

on both sides of the gun.

It never gets easier.

The grief does not get lighter.

But I have learned how to carry it without letting it destroy me.

And I refuse to ever become numb again.

Because feeling is a gift.

To care this much is a gift.

To have loved and been loved by every child God allowed me to pour into while still learning how to tend my own garden… that is a gift too.

And I am grateful.

I have learned to get out of God’s business.

The first thing my equity program taught me was simple:

Focus on what you can control.

That lesson changed me.

Because so much suffering comes from trying to carry what was never ours to carry.

Then came the pandemic.

Teaching during COVID in Pine Bluff, Arkansas while earning my Master’s in Educational Equity changed me forever.

I remember telling my coach:

“I feel as though I am drowning in a sea of inequities.”

And she brought me back to shore by reminding me I had gone too far.

What I did not know then was that God was preparing me for leadership.

Then came March 2021.

Within the first seven days of that month, life erupted.

I cried every day.

Every day.

And I kept asking:

When will it ever stop?

I asked God to help me not feel that way.

And while I was hurting, I focused on helping everyone around me feel better.

That is what many of us do.

We bleed quietly while bandaging others.

Even in the middle of grief, God was still elevating me.

Then came the shipwreck season.

After two years of leadership, our school was absorbed into another charter network.

Kids scattered.
Families scattered.
Staff scattered.

And then the snakes revealed themselves.

The Word says the snake sees you before you see it.

The snake strikes while you are adding wood to the fire…
while you are serving…
while you are building.

Because the attack is aimed at the anointing in you.

People may think you are cursed.
They may assume you deserved the bite.

But sometimes the bite is only setting the stage for God to have the final say.

What leadership and life taught me most is this:

We are all still God’s children.

No matter how old we become.
No matter how accomplished.
No matter how many titles we hold.

We are still His children.

And it is God’s will for the world to be saved.

But salvation, healing, peace, and purpose still require choice.

Because God gives promises…
but He also gives free will.

It is up to us to decide whether we will receive what He has already made available.

Faith starts where the will of God is known.

That is why we must know the Word.

Because if you do not know the Word,
you do not know how to fight.

You will not know what to believe.
You will not know what to stand on.

Only the Word of God is everlasting.

Everything else will pass away.

The storm will pass.
The betrayal will pass.
The pain will pass.

Even the past itself no longer exists.

There is only now.

And if we do not learn how to be present,
we will miss the gift of God in the here and now.

My great grandmother taught me this in her own way. She is 95 years old, and still in her right mind.

When she turned 80, she was invited into a senior group at church.

She advocated for younger people, ages 55 and older, to join.

But the older members pushed back, saying they were too young and would try to change everything.

I laughed and asked her:

“So even when I get old, old people will still tell me I’m too young?”

She laughed and said yes.

That stayed with me.

Because age has never been the qualifier.

Obedience is.

I was 29 years old when God trusted me with the #1 charter school in the state, the largest school in our network, and flagship of the system we were absorbed into.

I was 30 years old when I became Chief Academic Officer of a private Christian micro-school as its founding educator.

I do not take credit for any of it.

I give God the glory.

I did not apply for the roles I was given.

I was appointed.
I was anointed.

Every opportunity that found me was God-breathed.

And what is next is in His hands too.

That is why I am grateful to be living in my “after this.”

And I vow never to look back
unless I am telling God thank you.

Even for the worst moments.

Because I have learned to thank Him and love them anyway.

Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.

Holding a grudge is drinking poison
and expecting it to hurt the other person.

Release.
Heal.
Trust God with your next.

And watch how He makes all things new.

J. Cole said it well:

There is no such thing as a life that’s better than yours.

Comparison is truly the thief of joy.

And too many people are letting comparison rob them of the beauty of what God has already blessed them with.

Instead of obsessing over what others should be doing, ask yourself:

What can I do to help?

And if you do not want to help… fine.

Just do not choose to hurt.

There is no such thing as neutral.

If you cannot be kind, as God has asked us to be,
then please be quiet.

You cannot shame someone into healing.

You cannot shame someone into becoming better.

If the culture around you is not aligned,
keep your eyes on what God is teaching you.

So when He says go, fear does not keep you bound.

People will always be there.

Do not waste your life talking to ghosts.

Drake said it plainly:

Everybody dies, but not everybody lives.

And God did not give you a spirit of fear.

So let the confusion become your clarity.

Now Jada and I are living on the other side.

This is truly a whole new life.

No more performing like puppets every day for people who are not even satisfied with the breath in their lungs.

And I pray you can relate.

I pray you too can look back and say:

You survived the storm.
You survived the shipwreck.
You survived the snake.

And you made it to the other side.

But hear me:

Even on the other side… there is still work to do.

There will always be obstacles.

Growth does not exempt you from difficulty.

But if you choose to learn, you will be equipped.

If you choose bitterness instead of growth,
you may never fulfill your purpose.

And God will raise up someone else.

Because the system is not black and white.

It is you versus you.

Only the people close to you can hurt you deeply.

And when you choose to serve,
you must learn not to fear being hurt.

Sometimes people mean harm.
Sometimes they do not.

It is not our duty to determine intent.

Our duty is to learn from what pain teaches us.

Growing up, my sisters hurt my feelings often.

And whenever I told our dad, we all got in trouble.

At the time, it felt unfair.

Now I see those moments were shaping something deeper in me.

They taught me that pain is temporary, emotions are fleeting, and not every wound will last.

What endures is what heaven values most:

Faith. Hope. Love.

And I am grateful to have all three.

Because in the end, those are the very things that carry us through.

You do not choose whether you are on a spiritual journey.

We all are.

But you do choose how long you will wander in the wilderness.

So I ask you this:

When are you going to be done going in circles?

Remember, the children are watching.

They are learning.
They are listening.
They are becoming.

They are growing through the concrete…
And if they are blessed,
they will make it out.

Do not be surprised when they do.

Just pray they do not have to pass you by to get there.