I became a runner after I lost my mom when I was in my tweens. By runner, I mean running from those predators known as “family.” At the end of my 8th grade year and the beginning of my 9th grade year, I ran away at least three times—with the last time being for good.
I proverbially stand before you as a strong 45-year-old woman who humbly serves as a servant leader—you are the star and I, the fan. Every now and then the helpless 13 year old in me comes out and turns this “strong” woman into a drama queen—it’s usually right when I am on the cusp of a breakthrough.
Because I fully own my “crazy,” I will share a story that only one other person knows. The last couple of days I have been “transforming” and it left me all discombobulated and unable to sleep. This ol’ gangsta gal was ready to run. Helpless Joey (my 13-year-old self) wanted to run. I couldn’t breath. I needed to escape.
In my head, I was going to pick up my daughter, drop her home and then run! I am in between contracts so Ms. Krazee looked up free places to camp out that were safe.
By the time I wrapped up work, I had rolled off the Kray Kray train, a little tattered, bruised and plenty embarrassed. But up until now, only one person knew.
I got in my car to pick up my daughter. I backed out the garage and as I pulled forward, bam! The heavens seemed as if it was sitting right atop my car. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe and I wanted to run into the safety of my house.
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It may have been me, but it seemed like the clouds were only low around my neighborhood. I picked up my daughter and then headed home. As I pulled into my subdivision, the low skies made me anxious — of course, I could not say anything because I was not going to let my daughter witness my drama. I pulled into the garage and before running into the house I took a picture.
I guess this was God’s way of letting me know that anything I am going through, no matter how it may seem like it is closing in on me, I can get through it.
Ha, ha. Very funny God. I guess he was making sure Ms. Krazee had disappeared and I had tucked Joey in her safe place.
I am totally owning my crazy. When you live your life on purpose for a purpose, it can get pretty hazy up in the top deck. If God has a sense of humor, so can you.
Don’t run from it. Don’t try to get around it. Don’t try to step over it. Get through it. Own your crazy because something very good is going to be on the other side (no straight jacket please).