“Faith over fear” is one of the phrases that gained a lot of popularity at the height of the Covid-19 pandemic when we were all quarantined for the most part and not knowing or understanding what would become of our communities and families with the onset of this deadly contagion. Fear was as widespread as this new invisible disease and the government was urging us to stay home. Officials told us it was not wise to even go to church.
Well that absolutely didn’t sit right with me and a lot of the folks I know. A part of our new normal was attending church services from the safety of our homes. It was a crazy state of affairs that I never imagined I would see in my lifetime. But there we were right in the thick of it. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, what kept me sane was my faith. I’m a very on-the-go type of girl. Staying cooped up in the house for days on end had never been my thing so this was a battle on several fronts. My Spiritual Father, who is my pastor, begin to teach us about a familiar passenger in my car that I needed to learn how to deal with.
How I came to have such an amazingly wise and in-tune Spiritual Father, who I often refer to as Dad, is a whole other story that I will save for another post. But this man has been the saving grace in my life for nearly a decade now. I have not been in touch with my biological father since he and my mom divorced when I was about three years old (forty years ago) and Hezekiah Pressley, Jr. entered my life at just the right time. I’m convinced I would not have survived my near-death experience and certainly not the pandemic without his love and wisdom.
My Dad teaches that faith and fear usually travel together. The t-shirts and the social media posts may have had us thinking differently. But have you ever considered the idea that the two are in a sense tied together? What if they are, in fact, two sides of the same coin? And it’s up to us to keep things turned right side up.
What if all we have to do in the face of a dark picture is let our light shine? What if when we are feeling beat down by life, we dig in and choose to elevate things that are lovely to us. Instead of pouting, moping or wallowing in sorrows, what if we lift up things that are pure, things that bring hope and joy to our lives? What if we take just a few moments to get out of ourselves and do something that will be worthwhile and meaningful for someone else? Right about here I should warn you that not only am I an ordained minister, I’m also a certified empowerment coach so I ask a lot of questions.
The very lowest moment of my life came when I was navigating a sudden chronic health condition. And it was at this very same time that I found myself at the brink of divorce from my husband. Spoiler Alert: we’re still together- 12 years strong. Back to my low point. My heart and body were battered and broken. I have never been so weak and hopeless before at any other time that I can remember even to this day. It’s been some five years plus since that time. The reason that I am able to to share this story and possibly some nuggets of wisdom with you now is because I turned my selfish ambition into a compassionate heart for service. That became my freedom, my liberty, my healing.
I’ve always had the gift of gab. And like my mother, who just so happens to be a pastor, I never meet a stranger. For years and years, I would speak to folks in the grocery store, at the gas station or anywhere really. I would always compliment other women on their hair, makeup or outfit. And it made me feel good to see their faces light up simply from a kind word. What I did not realize all those years was that I was laying the foundation for my ministry. Those same kind words, those verbal embraces, those smiles and laughs, those gestures that say I see you- that became the vibe that has attracted my tribe. Now I am a full-time minister, a transformational coach and a best selling author simply because I subdued the fear, the familiar passenger, and I flipped the coin. I elevated what was meaningful and hopeful and it became a beacon light. In fact, it became my life’s work and I could not be more proud if I tried.
Someone reading this is already self-deprecating. You’re already comparing yourself, you’re already saying I’m too small; I’m not smart enough; I don’t have the right words or the right look; no one wants to hear from me; why would I share my story… Someone else is saying what I’ve been through is entirely too painful, and I’d rather just forget it. Yet another person is saying I don’t think I’m ready.
I want to say to you that there’s never going to be a perfect time, a perfect speech or a perfect you. I want to encourage you to take a moment in the next few days to practice. Share a kind word with someone- a real life person- not just on social media. You may still be practicing social distancing; you may still be wearing your mask. I don’t disagree with any of those precautions. What I’m saying is take a moment, take a breath and take a step to extend some grace and show some compassion. Tap into that service to your fellow man. It may be a little nerve-wracking at first. It may feel quite weird, but it may brighten someone’s day. I can almost guarantee it will and it just may save someone’s life.
I don’t want you to think I’m going in for the hard sell. But this is something that I remain passionate about. When I was lying in a hospital bed with tubes coming from everywhere I, for whatever reason, elevated myself above a very dark condition and decided to say a prayer for anyone entering my space. I said prayers for those who came to visit me. I said prayers for those who called to check on me. I said prayers with doctors and nurses, the housekeeping and nutrition staff. I said prayers for the social worker, and I said prayers for the annoying group of observers who were a part of the psychiatric evaluation team.
I did that until my numbers took a positive turn. I did that until I was discharged from the hospital. I did that when I had to be released into my mother’s care because I could not be home alone while my husband worked in another state. I did that until I was downgraded from 24-hour oxygen support and seven additional medications all the way to the present day when I only have to take two medicines. Three if you count the allergy pill.
So I’m telling you the only thing that will get you out of that fearful stuck place is subduing your passenger and flipping your coin. You can do it. I believe in you.
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