By Jalauna Phillips
In one of my recent therapy sessions, I admitted to my therapist that I do indeed have a savior complex.
But how could I not?
I grew up reading The Hunger Games, Divergent, Maze Runner and Percy Jackson series, in addition to being born into a God-fearing, Jesus following, family. Every book, movie, and story that I encountered as a child taught me that I was the one who had to do something, to save lives or who knows, maybe the world someday!
Now that I think of it, becoming a firefighter never crossed my mind… I digress lol.
Since I can remember, I have always had a deep knowing and understanding that I was called, special, chosen and anointed. It has always felt heavy and important. And it has always been so much bigger than me.
For the past two weeks, I have been teaching my 5th grade students about poetry. I’ve journaled and considered myself a writer ever since my parents bought me a Strawberry Shortcake journal for Christmas when I was 7 and I studied creative writing in college. So naturally, I am very passionate about this subject.
During my first lesson, I just went over the mechanics and elements of poetry. At the end of the lesson, I shared a few of my own pieces. One of the pieces that I shared was a poem I wrote titled, Black Hands. My students picked out a few elements in that poem and then I dismissed them to recess. On their way out, one of my girls handed me a folded up piece of paper. I set it on my desk and waited until all of them were out of the room to read it.
Once I returned to my desk, I opened it expecting a note or a letter. To my utmost astonishment, it was a poem in response to mine titled, God’s Hands. Before I could finish reading it, I realized that I was swimming in a pool of my own tears.
I sat in silence with tears rushing down my face for over five minutes.
Since that Strawberry Shortcake journal, writing has always been my outlet, my safe space and sometimes the only way that I could distract myself from suicidal thoughts.
During those five plus minutes, all I heard was God asking, “do you understand now?”
Do you understand why what happened to you didn't break you? Do you understand why I kept you from that situation? Do you understand why that relationship didn't work out? Do you understand why that door never opened?
DAUGHTER, DO YOU UNDERSTAND??
The past few weeks have been nothing but God revealing to me his why. The confirmation I am experiencing feels like what Prince Charming must’ve felt when the slipper fit Cinderella’s foot and what it feels like when you put a piece of a puzzle in such a place that it reveals what the picture is supposed to look like and when the sun rays break through the clouds after a storm.
I am finally seeing myself and understanding who I was called, chosen and anointed to be.
And not only that, but I am feeling a bit of courage rising up inside of me to continue, and pick up speed, and laugh all the way to the finish line.
The burden that I have always felt was simply being who I already was.
Being Jalauna, who swims against the current, breaks a few rules, makes mistakes and loves with her whole heart.
I refuse to keep running. I refuse to keep searching for places to hide.
From now on, you can find me in the breath of God, the heart of the Father and in the hands of my creator,
where I have always been and where I will always be.
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P.S. We have also been reading the story of The Three Hebrew Boys which is a great example of the title. Moses too!
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