In November, I was given the word Pause. It’s funny because I remember the exact date this word settled into my mind—Sunday, November
24, 2024. I took note, wrote it down in my journal, and thought nothing more about it. At the time, I had no curiosity about its potential meaning. I simply asked myself, Am I ready for something new?
What was real for me in that moment was the growing sense of exhaustion and discouragement I felt professionally. On top of that, my nerves were a wreck. Deadlines were piling up, and my daughter was in the thick of preparing for graduation, writing college essays, applying for scholarships, and planning her next steps. My mind was cluttered, overflowing and I couldn’t fit one more thing into it.
That day, I needed something to calm my nerves. By mid-morning, I decided to tune into two different virtual worship services. What was interesting was that, despite being broadcast from different regions of the country, both services carried an aligned message—one I clearly needed to hear.
I heard:
It’s in the gap when God shows up
He already knows what we need and how things will turn out.
God does not waste an opportunity to demonstrate His glory
We serve a God who is greater than any gap
But what resonated with me most was this:
It’s not about what’s in your (my) hands but about what we (I) believe is in our (my) hands.
As I meditated on these words, I realized the Lord was speaking to me: Regardless of the season you find yourself in, you must center your faith. Whether in difficult times, moments of uncertainty, or seasons of loss and restlessness, you must lean into both trust and confidence—holding onto God’s promises, especially when your vision feels cluttered.
Rest assured, things are being aligned on your behalf.
It wasn’t until January 16th that I began to understand the depth of why I needed to be in those virtual services on that November day and why God placed within me those five letters: P-a-u-s-e. Looking back, I realize seeds of comfort were being planted within me, preparing me for my germination season.
At the end of 2024, just sixteen days into the new year, five days before my birthday, I never would have imagined that I would wake up that morning only to find myself among a growing group of professionals being let go, laid off, or, in some cases, fired without cause at the start of 2025.
I have to admit, in that rushing moment, I couldn’t help but feel as though I had been wronged. Anger and frustration rose to the surface. But in my post-event reflection, I realized what I was feeling most was hurt. After dedicating nearly a decade to an organization, I was cast aside in an instant. I had no words just the weight of it all pressing down on me.
I remember walking upstairs to share the news with my husband. Let’s just say he was in pure shock. He could hardly believe what I was telling him.
Reactively, I thought, I just need to take a shower. Being under the water would provide the peace I so desperately needed to calm my nervous system and offer even a moment of mental relief. I needed a space of comfort, a place for reflection, and most importantly, a space where I could be alone with God.
As the water hit my skin, I looked up in an act of surrender and out of no where, I began to laugh.
“Oh my goodness, You are so funny.”
Now, if you were watching this from the outside (hopefully not, because I don’t need extra people in the bathroom with me), you might have thought I was losing it. But the reality was, I wasn’t. In that moment, God brought back to my memory the very conversation (prayer) we had in November.
That entire month, I felt depleted mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. My capacity to experience joy had dwindled to zero. The weight of the recent election drained me. Like many other Black women, I felt a growing sense of rejection. Finances were on my mind. My daughter was preparing for college in the fall. And professionally, I had begun questioning my place: was I still meant to be doing this work?
I had a desire for something else, something more, and something greater.
And now, standing in that shower, I couldn’t help but laugh. God always has a way of answering prayers. In my case, I strongly believe that He removed a position from my life that was no longer serving me.
Looking back, my initial reaction was shaped by a fundamental human tendency to mourn the very things that are no longer meant for us. Sometimes we often cling with a death grip to emptiness rather than embrace freedom.
The truth is, change is scary; we prefer predictability.
Our response to loss often has more to do with internalized shame than the loss itself. We imagine how the world will now perceive us, which in turn shapes our self-perception no matter how much we try to resist it. In an instant, we start questioning everything: Was I good at my job? Did I truly make a difference? Was I the leader I thought I was? Our minds craft narratives that feed our deepest anxieties and self-doubt.
When unexpected transitions arise, we instinctively turn to self-blame instead of pausing long enough to recognize that sometimes rejection is necessary for growth.
But here’s what I know now: none of those thoughts were true, and frankly, none of them mattered. Manifested distortions only have one goal, to flood our minds with lies. Navigating transition through a human lens is hard. Instead, we need to lean into something far greater than ourself, centered in trust, even when our next step and path is unclear.
I believe God has a vision for our lives, and that vision often needs room to germinate so that it can fully emerge into whatever our next is meant to be.
As we move toward the end of February, here is my advice for you:
1. When life feels out of control, cling to the truth of God’s promises. Peace is not rooted in feelings or circumstances but in God’s faithfulness.
2. When anxiety tries to overwhelm you, practice reflective pausing. You need space to hear what your next move should be. Your mind needs quiet.
3. Sometimes, what seems like rejection is actually your elevation. Growth requires uncertainty but remember, this is only temporary.
4. Surround yourself with people who will pour into you. Find those who offer encouragement and protection for your heart and mind.
5. Unplanned transitions, while challenging, should be approached with awe, curiosity, and wonder. We never know when our journey will serve as an example for someone else.