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identity crisis

What happens when the way you used to be is no longer? I'm not talking about being a drug addict and then recovering. I'm not thinking about being petty ruxpin and then deciding to offer grace. But what if you used to be super creative, a dope spoken word artist, a sista who could sit in a room get that gift all stirred up, put pen to pad and compose a dope rhyme (poem).

She used to be me. I miss her. I miss those moments when words would slide off the tip of my tongue with sweet and raw cadence. The kind of delivery that I could hear in my head as my hand would write the words. I would hear my voice rattle off lines after lines as I was writing. 

I miss all of that. Traveling from one stage to the next, one pulpit to the next. And I took it all for granted. I had no idea the impact that spoken word had on my own life (good + bad). It was the vehicle God used for me to see Him. And I am not sure it is still my portion, that is solely up to The Lord. 

What if God only used that vehicle for a season? What if God used spoken word as the ground for me to practice hearing Him? What if God used spoken word as a rehearsal studio? A place where I would practice opening and closing my mouth in order to walk alongside people. A place where the words, the sentiment, and the conviction that comes with those words could consensually penetrate the souls of the most vulnerable, hurting, and oppressed. 

What if I never write another dope poem?! My identity as a spoken word artist completed me. It was the thing I knew about myself that was acceptable, pleasurable, and distinct. It was the one thing that even if I looked terrible I knew I would still be fly! 

I don't know if I'll ever write or share another poem. But I do know I am more than poetry. I am more than mics and stages and dimly lit rooms. I am more than crowded smoky rooms. I am more than recording studios and being up til sunrise getting it right. I am more than introductions of the next poet. I am more than standing at mics in a room with 1,000 first year students standing on the edge of each of my stanzas in Hanover, NH. I am more than sweet lines on a warm May day right before they recite their vows. I am more than finding the perfect journal and filling it with metaphors and smilies and dreams and tomorrows. 

I am one of God's greatest ideas and so are you. That is enough!

WE ARE ENOUGH when we find and maintain our identity in Christ. Poetry does not complete me. Poetry does not and will not ever save me. Poetry does not and will not ever satisfy my deepest longings in my soul. The gifting, talents or impecible skills you have are not your identity either. I mean what if you no longer can do that thing you do with such excellence, does that mean you are no longer of value!?! HECK NAH! It is a gift, not to be worshipped or coveted. Poetry is a weapon that God put in my hand, but guess what my soul is at rest if He changes the weapon! It is well, if God is removing that weapon (Spoken word/Poetry) and giving me a new one. 

IT IS WELL with my whole soul! 

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