Guiding Nudges From Above
I’m sitting in my car with my head on the steering wheel. The tears are threatening to fall from my eyes. I can’t sulk too long because I’m jarred by the memory of a testimony a reader sent me earlier in the week. It blew my mind. I have to share!
Ms. Tee,
Girl, I have been missing your blog! I didn’t have internet service in forever(ok, truth be told the Blackberry was turned off honey. Lol. I’m not too cute to admit that I too have been on the disconnect list) , so the last time I read your site you were just about to leave for Houston. Your story is so amazing that I had to email you.
I’m orginally from Indianapolis. One day after talking with an old friend of the family I decided to move to Atlanta. She offered me a job as an Assistant Director in her non-profit…I was more than excited because this would give me the chance to learn the ins and outs while
getting my own business off of the ground (sounding familiar?). So, I move the 600 miles with my uncle driving my Uhaul. I hadn’t seen my apartment until the day that I moved in. I didn’t have a car (it had been repo-ed) before I could even leave Indianapolis. But though this all, I was excited. This was on Dec. 17. By Jan. 1st, I didn’t have a job. I didn’t know how I was going to pay my 800 a month for rent, but I remained prayerful. During the days, I would WALK to go put in applications. Not even the neighborhood pizzaria would hire me, even though I attended college and have worked since I was 15.
getting my own business off of the ground (sounding familiar?). So, I move the 600 miles with my uncle driving my Uhaul. I hadn’t seen my apartment until the day that I moved in. I didn’t have a car (it had been repo-ed) before I could even leave Indianapolis. But though this all, I was excited. This was on Dec. 17. By Jan. 1st, I didn’t have a job. I didn’t know how I was going to pay my 800 a month for rent, but I remained prayerful. During the days, I would WALK to go put in applications. Not even the neighborhood pizzaria would hire me, even though I attended college and have worked since I was 15.
I began to fell low. I felt like this move was a major mistake and that I was way over my head. My sorors would call me and I wouldn’t have gotten out of bed. Or my mama would
call, but it killed her to hear me cry all the time. I began to believe that God put me in the ATL for a reason…that reason was beyond me at the moment, but there had to be a reason. But without fail, my rent was paid every month…a fate that was truly the hand of God. On the days that I wanted to give up, God would send me a message…a random check would be in the mail…a woman walked up to me at Big Lots and told me to listen to the message God had for me (I didn’t know this woman from a can of paint). I was at my sorors house and was feeling low when I went to dry my hands and a paper towel said “I may not be able to change the wind, but I can adjust my sails to still make my destination”. It got to the point where these situaitions didn’t trip me out anymore…I looked forward to them as my guiding nudges from God, telling me to keep going and stay focused. A year later, I’m still here. I have a job that I love doing retail (what I went to school for) a man that wants to marry me and a tested faith that KNOWS that God can make the impossible possible.
call, but it killed her to hear me cry all the time. I began to believe that God put me in the ATL for a reason…that reason was beyond me at the moment, but there had to be a reason. But without fail, my rent was paid every month…a fate that was truly the hand of God. On the days that I wanted to give up, God would send me a message…a random check would be in the mail…a woman walked up to me at Big Lots and told me to listen to the message God had for me (I didn’t know this woman from a can of paint). I was at my sorors house and was feeling low when I went to dry my hands and a paper towel said “I may not be able to change the wind, but I can adjust my sails to still make my destination”. It got to the point where these situaitions didn’t trip me out anymore…I looked forward to them as my guiding nudges from God, telling me to keep going and stay focused. A year later, I’m still here. I have a job that I love doing retail (what I went to school for) a man that wants to marry me and a tested faith that KNOWS that God can make the impossible possible.
I truly apologize for writing you a novel, but sometimes knowing that someone else has been where you are is encouraging. Know that you are truly made for greatness. We DO NOT serve a God that would take you all the way to Houston just to let you fail. Stay strong. One day I heard a song at church and the chorus is: “I just can’t give up now/I’ve come too far from where I started from/He never told me the road would be easy/But I don’t believe He brought me this far to leave me”. I couldn’t stop crying. I went home and wrote it in my journal, because there is power in the written word. You are a survivor. You have a gift that meant to be shared with the world. Press forward and know that you are truly in my prayers.
Although we don’t know one another, struggle has a way of binding spirits together at times. If you ever need to vent, need a favor or any thing, please feel free to drop me a line. Until we reach the other side, the struggle continues.
Your sister in struggle and faith.
Just as her words cause my tears to dry up I hear a chime on my cell phone. I check my text messages and I see that it is one of my Houston readers, Kia.
Kia and I met through the internet when I first got here and she has been a major help with directions and information. Houston is her hometown so she knows EVERYTHING about every street and the history of the city. The fact that she used to give tours also helps the way she presents information. I think I met the PERFECT person to help me get acquainted with the city. I had yet to meet her in person but we had chatted once over the phone once and kept up with each other through text message. I gave her my blog address and she admitted that she too, was once a blogger once but she didn’t keep up with it.
“Whatcha doing?” she texted me.
“Man. My car won’t start and I’m stuck. I even missed an interview today.” I texted back.
“Where were you trying to go?”
“No where. I just need my car.”
“Let’s go eat.”
“When? Where?”
“Now?”
“Yeah. Now.”
I call her phone and she says, “Why didn’t you call me when your car wouldn’t start? I have a friend and I’m sure he can come jump your car for you. Use your resources, Tee.”
I shrug. I didn’t want to be a bother. Besides, I’ve never even met this chick.
“Where do you want me to meet you?” she asks. “Let’s go eat in Rice Village.”
“Um..His townhouse is kind of in the back so I can walk up to Luby’s on Almeda. Do you know where that is?”
“Yep. I used to live right over there. Gimme 20 minutes and be safe.”
By now I’m used to meeting the readers of my blog and I even look forward to it. Even though they know way more about me than I know about them, their comfort level is so high that it always puts me at ease.
I wait inside the restaurant and trade jokes with the manager to stay out of the cold air.
Kia pulls up shortly and when I sit down inside her car I laugh because she reminds me of my old mentor from highschool Traci. I miss Traci.
We head down Binz and over to this restaurant called the Goode Company Taqueria and we had the best mesquite burgers ever! I was so grateful for some warm food that I called JB and told him how blessed I was. Her friend Dave, this 31 year old, white guy who plays the bongos met us there shortly after and we all rode back to the Professor’s house to jump start my car.
While we are in the midst of trying to figure out what to do, I see the garage door open and the Professor pops his head out and walks over to me with a piece of mail that I received. He hands it to me and asks, “What’s going on here?” with a smirk.
“Oh, He’s helping me to fix my car,” I tell him.
“Well, he obviously doesn’t know what he’s doing,” the Professor mutters and frowns his face at Dave.
“Young man. You’re not doing it right. You need to do it like this.”
The Professor takes over the project and we all stand back and give each other looks. Yeah. This dude lacks people skills. I can tell his abrasiveness is making Kia uncomfortable but both she and Dave continue to be respectful even though he’s speaking to them as though they have no sense.
I hate men who act like that. Just because you know something that I don’t know, doens’t make me less than you are. It just makes you more knowledgeable in that area. If you really cared, you’d teach and not judge. But oh well…Men.
My car is up and running after a few minutes and I squeal with delight.
“You’re not thinking of going anywhere tonight?” the Professor questions me pointedly before he walks away.
“Um..I hadn’t planned to,” I say quietly feeling like a little kid.
“Good, Because that car should rest until the morning. You shouldn’t be driving it.”
Well..he’s right. It’s just. His tone is all wrong.
Tone DOES matter.
He walks away and Kia and Dave leave too.
I sit in my car and talk to Ruby for a little while before heading in for the night.