The Mirror, the Battle, and the Unfolding Plan
We battle things we don’t even know we carry.
Wounds passed down, pain absorbed in childhood, shaped in silence. And it isn’t until we allow God to turn the mirror inward that we begin to see it—really see it.
See us.
At first, you blame God.
Blame him for allowing things to happen that you had no control over.
You feel helpless, even angry—why am I fighting something I didn’t ask for?
You wrestle with your past,
While your present demands everything from you.
You’re trying to raise children with wisdom no one gave you,
Trying to build what you’ve never seen,
And trying to reach for a future that feels like it’s constantly moving out of your grasp.
But then somehow—somehow—you remember:
This is why His Word gives light.
This is why He speaks of a renewed mind.
This is why He left us the Comforter,
The Spirit of Truth.
Not to keep us from the struggle,
But to keep the struggle from destroying us.
To shape us. To strengthen us.
To perfect us.
It’s easy to point the finger outward.
It’s harder—but holier—to ask God,
“Show me me.”
Because of that moment of revelation
That could be the key that unlocks the chains wrapped around your children.
That could be the cleansing flood that breaks generational yokes.
That could be the beginning of freedom your bloodline has never known.
I used to wonder why I’ve always felt like the black sheep.
On both sides of my family.
I used to question why death took my brother at 21
And tried to take me more than once.
But I’m starting to believe there’s a reason I’m still here.
There’s a reason my heart still beats.
There’s a purpose unfolding even as I type these words.
And until it is fulfilled—
I will keep trusting Him.
I will keep hoping in His plan.
The hardest part
Isn’t believing that he has a plan.
It’s accepting it.
Walking in it.
And learning how to let go.
-Velma
