Lemme tell you how i really feel

I am going to begin this blog post by admitting that some people are not going to like it. Some people are not going to understand it, or want to understand it. Some are even going to be angry that I have the audacity to say how it is I really feel. Yet others are going to read these words, and release the breath they themselves have been holding. One of the people, releasing their breath, will be me. Because I can't hold it in anymore, the truth of these past two and half years, for the sake of anyone else other than myself.

Two years and four months ago, the man I considered to be my soul mate was killed, violently and tragically. His beautiful light, wicked laugh, and whip smart wit, were taken from us, leaving his community without our breath. We grieved, raged, kicked walls in, screamed at God, lamented, bargained, cried, fought, faced his killer in court, navigated all kinds of familial and relational hell, and have (collectively and individually) tried to move on with our lives.

Each day, I learned how to breathe again. A little more, a little more. I put one foot in front of another. I attended one grief support group, then another, before I was able to bring my grief into a church setting. Even then, the secular ones hit a bit more authentic. A bit less Christian-ese.

A year ago, during a mid-term performance review where I was cajoled into expecting a raise, I was told that my job would be reduced to .5 FTE due to no performance of my own, but due to the needs of the company changing. I began looking for a new role almost immediately, in June 2024. Nearly eleven months later, despite some interviews and positive experiences interviewing, I am still enduring looking for a new job, healing from losing the man I loved, and watching the leadership of the organization I am now a .5FTE employee at hire more white women in leadership positions even as they continue to try to eliminate my role (did I add I am one of the longest standing employees at the company, at present)?

This life season has been literal hell. I am so thankful for my family, my brothers and sisters and siblings, my friends, my doggos, even my humble little home. And I am so rageful towards God.

What kind of good Dad creates his children to desire relationship, to desire being in loving, kind relationship, and then denies them that? What kind of good Dad allows his kids to finally find each other at the age of 36 and 33 and then allows them to be violently torn apart, as they were falling in love? What kind of God allows a daughter to endure all that I have had to endure in the last two and a half years? What kind of God really allows this kind of suffering?

I don't know anymore, what kind of God this God is. All I know is he seems to leave all of the work to the Black women. I love being a woman of African descent, but I am tired. I am disappointed. And I am over waiting and praying and begging for this God to come rescue me. He is going to do what He wants. So I am going to do what I will.

And if He is good, he knows where to find me. But I am done looking for Him.