Have you ever woken up and wished the day was not the day? Your circumstances, not your circumstances? Your life, not your life?

I remember rolling over in my dorm room bed in college. When I opened my eyes, I felt ok, but then the previous chain of events came flooding back. 

Oh. That’s right. I’m heartbroken. 

My fiancé of four years had discarded me like an old newspaper, and I honestly didn’t know if I would ever get through it.

Every morning, I would wake up and wish that what had happened was only a dream, yet, unfortunately, it was a nightmare. Even worse. It was my reality.

Life can be an assortment of hills and valleys interweaving exceptional achievement and life-shaking losses even in the same season. Sometimes, it can be rainy and sunny in the same month. In the same week. On the same day. Especially in Cleveland, Ohio.

I have a friend who lost her husband of 16 years and is now suddenly a single mom of three. A friend who lost her daughter, who was just 40 years old, the same age as me. Another friend who is homeless and simultaneously dealing with a traumatic breakup.

Ever heard the saying, “When it rains, it pours?”

Dare I say, it’s pouring?

I am navigating my own disappointments these days. They sit in my belly like an unborn child that won’t come out for delivery. No matter how much I push. They are there.

Sometimes, I just sit with them with a cup of hot water and stare into the distance.

Sometimes, I am motivated enough to hit the gym and work off my hurt.

Other times, I curl into a ball in the middle of my bed like I did in my dorm room so many years ago. 

I know from ample experience healing takes time.

I tell this to my homeless friend. 

The thing is, with these types of occurrences, more than likely, it’s going to take so much time. 

My friend, the widow, will never feel the arms of her beloved this side of heaven again. 

My own experience of loss has taught me that even with the understanding of eternity in our hearts, our loved one’s passing can feel as if we are missing a limb. How much greater is the loss if it’s your other half?

There are no pat Christian answers that can be said. No comforting words that can be offered. All I can do is be there. Be there to run an errand or two. Or cook a meal. Or keep her in prayer. All I can do is try to shoulder the burden of my community as they shoulder mine.

We lean on each other during these times. We talk and talk and talk. We cry and cry and cry. We offer a listening ear, a comforting hug, or a deep, empathetic sigh.

That is how I’ve gotten through my pain. The heavy, hurtful pain that clings to every breath.

That and writing.

I’m writing a lot these days. On top of a few short stories, I’ve picked up that novel I started last year. It is a welcomed escape from the not-so-fun things happening lately. I can lean into my protagonist and partake in the gifts she’s given in the areas I am void in. But every good story must have conflict. And the greater the difficulties, the better the story.

I was struggling over this with God one day. I knew what He wanted me to do to my protagonist, and I did not want to do it. I did not want her to experience this devastation. It may sound crazy if you’re not a writer or a creative, but these characters become real to us. I can feel what she feels. I can identify with these people as if they were my very group of friends.

I finally gave up the battle because I knew what God was saying was right. I knew the story needed her hurt to be engaging. To keep people reading. But her pain was also necessary for her own development.

I think our life stories are similar. We each have a unique kind of suffering we are called to. No one’s looks the same. Similar, but not the same. But if we let it work out its purpose in us, the pain can be used to mold us into a better version of ourselves.

I tell my homeless friend something similar as she pours out her heartache. 

“One day, you will not feel this,” I promise her. “One day you will be so far removed from this, it will then feel like a dream.”

And this I know to be true. Because I think back now on the college version of myself whose world was caving in on her and who wanted so desperately for her reality to be a dream. I can honestly say, the memory of that time feels more like a dream now than a nightmare. One that became the catalyst for a great read for others dealing with a similar pain.

I look forward to when this time will also one day be a great read.

In other news, this next Girl Talk is going to be a PHENOMENAL discussion on the topic of Black Love 🖤.

Make sure you TAP IN if you are:

1. Single and searching for love🤨🖤.

2. Married and in love☺️🖤.

3. A divorcee scorned from love 😫🖤.

The Black community has many unique challenges when it comes to finding love 🫶🏾 and this is our opportunity to chime in on those challenges. 😃. Come hear from our panelists from the Girl Talk Tribe who range all over the spectrum with experiences and knowledge. 👍🏾

Click here for your FREE registration. See you SOON!

Did you know that I just dropped the pre-sale for my debut novel When Love Wins? You can check out more here! This time around there is an audiobook in addition to the eBook and paperback versions. Make sure you are subscribed to my email list to catch special offers, discounts, insider information, and more!

Are you on Instagram/Facebook? If so, please reach out. I have a series called “Word of the Day Wednesdays” where I share 5-10 minutes worth of nuggets that are on my heart, which I hope are encouraging to others on IGTV/FB Live! I have these also posted on my Youtube Channel.

And, lastly, if you have read “Stories for the (Urban) Soul, please put up an Amazon review here. I was SUPER encouraged and blessed when a new reader put up her review for my 2nd book which you can view here :).

As always, thank you for your support!