Go to God

Where do I fit?

I’ve felt the spirit of God

for as long as I can remember. I have memories of playing in the kitchen and seeing the sun filter through the blinds. My mom washing the dishes. Tiny beads of dust floating in the rays of the sun. As I ran my body through the light, I vividly remember thinking to myself, “Is this what God feels like?”

Several times in my life, I’ve been at a world-defining crossroads. I relied solely on the spirit realm to see me through. I didn’t know what the outcome would be, but I trusted them deep. More than my own voice, they gave me comfort. I knew them intimately.

I’m speaking in past tense because that was my world before.

This is now.

Before I got pregnant with Malachi, I began feeling so lost and unprotected. My identity was slipping through my fingers like sand and I didn’t know who I was anymore. I couldn’t feel myself beneath all of the bodies, the voices. I wanted to be covered by the one living God. I needed order. I needed morality. I desperately yearned to embrace the heart and the values of Jesus Christ - the sound mind and principals in which he existed.

You’re probably wondering, “And why was that such a yearning?”

Well, my life had become synonymous with uncharted waters. It was chaotic, violent, and the veil to the other side was much too thin. The average person could not stomach the depths I was facing on a daily basis.

Anyone who has traversed the spirit realm knows that there is no moral compass amongst spirits. As a whole, they do not practice unyielding forgiveness or find strength in love. They are often caught in their own particular web of what they experienced as humans. They are simply seeking retribution for the lives they never got to lead… for the choices that hurt them.

It was through my friendship and trust in these spirits that I helped many people. I used my body and my mouth as a vessel to uncover many secrets, to facilitate the healing of the wombs of many women.

I can see the past - the unseen poetry of what’s dark. I can feel the pain - the pain that is suppressed over lifetimes of endurance. The ancestral world makes itself clear as day to me, and I can tap in.

Just. Like. That.

So.

Where does this leave me?

Blending the two feels… wrong.

I yearn for God. I yearn for something bigger than me. BUT I also created intimacy with the various spirits I worked with. And that is just as real.

Is ego containing me? Am I too busy trying to make it make sense, rather than living it? Does God really care?

I hoped to die to myself.

Like Christ.

I wanted to sacrifice first, for the ones I loved. I wanted to offer up myself in total devotion. I wanted to endure long-suffering for the sake of love. I wanted to be dutiful to my family and honor God in the process.

And that’s exactly what I’ve done.

This discomfort showed me that I could live and I could die. That I could be in my body, and that I had the capacity to completely empty my vessel, being used by God for intentional works.

The ancestral realm is meant to give us guidance, hope, a sounding board. God is meant to remind us of how small we are, and how important humility is.

I know that God didn’t place these gifts inside of me for nothing. My sight, my feeling - they are deep deep parts of me that deserve breath. They are parts of me that will never go away. They connect me to this world, to Him, and to my community.

I understand them. They understand me.

And it’s how I serve my village.

If I were to trust in my God-given design, I would embrace the spirit world. I would acknowledge it for what it is. And appreciate why it was given to us in the first place. I would guide my community to the principles of Christ, placing service, devotion, kindness, sacrifice, long-suffering, first. And I would give reverence to my ancestors for all that they have given light to.

Is anyone else supposed to understand? Is it supposed to make sense?

Through the eyes of God, would I be shamed? What would be His overall consensus?