Bring. It. On.

Today I went for a walk. I am trying to exercise every single day for a minimum of 30 minutes. I chose to walk today. Not just walk, but, actually storm through my neighborhood.

My heart felt so broken. I felt so suffocated by hope-crushing despair. I felt trapped and less than. I looked at what other people had and felt inferior and lost. How could I be that worthy? How could I matter that much? How could I change myself in order to change my circumstances?

I was literally power walking in sunglasses, so the neighbors wouldn’t judge me for my tears. Hot. Mess. Mama. My tennis shoes hit the pavement like anvils and I prayed to God. I basically begged Him to make me enough.

Ever have days like this, Mama?

There I was moving as quickly as I could to avoid turning into a dang puddle on the side of the road. My heart was heavy. My limbs felt stiff and my chin was quivering. Why could I not make things better by simply improving myself? Or was there no amount of change that would make me enough?

I mean, I had prayed over this area of my life for over a year only to receive no miracle or change. All I found was more pain and disappointment. What was God waiting on? What was He trying to accomplish? Why didn’t He want things to be better?

I looked to my Heavenly Father and in my mind I whispered, “Please, God, just make me enough. Make me worth it. Make me better. I will do anything.”

That is when it hit me. The devil was on me like white on rice. I had allowed the enemy to use heartbreaking situations in my life to tell me that it was a me issue. This truly was spiritual warfare at its finest.

I was more than enough. I looked at what I did every single day for my family, no matter sickness, health, exhaustion, restfulness, depression, starvation, or fullness. I showed up. On time. With bells on. Wearing a game face.

I looked at what I did to achieve my personal goals. I was disciplined and consistent. I did not sleep on my own dreams. I chased them and didn’t care a bit about who thought it was ridiculous.

I looked at who I was as a friend. I have been a Matron of Honor a few times. I have been the ear and the therapist. I have been the one to show up with pull-ups and supportive words. I have remembered birthdays and anniversaries and always answer my phone or texts. I am a beast of a friend.

I looked at who I was as a daughter. I make time when there isn’t any. I make plans and I keep them. I call just to say hey. I cheer my parents on. I am still learning from them. I rock at being their kid.

I am so good at being a supporter that half the time I don’t even have to hear the request, I just fulfill it. I am such a lover of mamas that I see beauty in their spit-up covered tops and disheveled mom buns. In fact I now call those “Mama Crowns”. So why the heck was I being so hard on myself? Don’t I tell y’all all the time that we are in the same club? So why could I not see the goodness in myself?

Because the devil is a liar. A good one. That’s why.

I felt in my soul as I paced the culdesac outside my home, God remind me who I am to Him. He reassured this battered, torn, messed-up Mama heart of mine that He chose me. He created me. I was more than enough.

The devil may accuse me, may doubt me, and may wreck my heart, but my God was already taking His gloves off. Bring. It. On.

John 15:16
You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you.

If you are with me today or there tomorrow, hear this:


Anything that shows you otherwise is toxic and of the enemy. Get away from it!!

You, Mama, are absolutely incredible.

1 Peter 2:9
But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

4 thoughts on “Bring. It. On.

  1. Dee says:

    The Devil whispered in her ear, “You’re not strong enough to withstand the storm.” She stood up straight, wiped her tears and whispered back, “I am a prized and precious child of the King. I am the Storm.”

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.