What do you call it when you’re a worrier – but not like a WORRIER worrier, just like, deep, deep down, you know there’s a little worry inside of you?

Because, yeahhh…I’m that.

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I’ve been known to be a little anxious about what’s to come and fearful, about so much. Fear is my stronghold. Fear has lied and reared its ugly head at me for decades. And only recently have I begun to stand firm and fight back. Only recently have I begun to see glimpses of fear manifesting in others, a harsh mirror to my own insecurity.

Case in point: COVID-19.

This illness, and moreso the reaction to it, has fear written all over it. Its given me a front row seat to the outward expression of fear. Day after day, I watch a world stress instead of stop. Panic instead of pray.

• Is there cause for healthy concern? Yes.

• Is it growing at a pace a little too swift for some? Maybe.

• Is there a reason for complete panic and outright pandemonium? No.

But fear will do that to you, you see. Fear sucks. Fear will have you abandoning your safe haven to keep up with millions of mindless thoughts. Fear will strip you of peace and joy and purpose, and cripple you with anxiety, grief and worry. Fear is what happens when we have no sense of control and zero direction of what’s ahead. Fear stems from the unknown.

But as I look deeper than the media’s influence on this international pandemic, I’m curious about how its grip has truly reflected my personal view of fear.

How do I embrace the unknown?

Of course, the feelings surrounding this emergency are quite fitting with my current season.

January to March has been HARD. It’s been a quarter of rest – often looked at as a season of being hidden, a season of stagnancy, a season of soaking…and mostly, a season of nothing.

Depending on the day, my outlook fluctuates. Some days it might be optimistic and positive, understanding that this season is necessary in order to continue healing and to continue growing. But if i’m being completely honest, most days over the past couple of months, it was absolutely killing me. I sat and spent every waking moment thinking about all of the things I wanted to do, or wished I could be doing, but was not. Then I’d sit wondering what was preventing me, what was hindering my forward movement. Why did it feel like I was trudging through molasses instead of running the race ahead?

“…so we must let go of every wound that has pierced us and the sin we so easily fall into. Then we will be able to run life’s marathon race with passion and determination, for the path has been already marked out before us.”

Hebrews 12:1 (TPT)

Instead of running the race ahead, my focus was elsewhere. And I instantly thought of a message by (one of my faaavorites) Pastor Robert Madu in which he said, “.finding that many people in the body of Christ cannot run the race that God has set before them simply because they have their eyes set on the people in the lanes beside them. Instead of being on YOUR mark, you’re on THEIR mark.”

WHOA.

On THEIR mark.

Who’s mark? 

Who was I racing? What am I focused on? 

What’s garnering more of my attention than the thing(s) that God has called me to do?

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The start of the New Year released the word CONFIDENCE before me. It was a word I’d been stuck on, for weeks, leading up to 2020. It was a word that I felt excited about. In every sense of the word, I wanted to grow in boldness and assertiveness and step into a new realm of self awareness. I wanted to grow confidence in who I was, in LoveMo and in speaking about that, in talking about myself. I wanted to grow confidence in all areas – faith, home, work, dating, public speaking, ministry, birthing new ministries and community. I wanted confidence in sooo many areas. I wanted transformation. A word that could change me as a person, could develop and grow new traits, and one that would go hand in hand with my 2018 word (LEAP) and my 2019 word (CULTIVATE), continuing to foster healing within me. I realized, pretty quickly within the first month, that just as He usually does, God had other intentions for that word and how it would relate to my race.

The annual 21-day fast at church was my first attempt at nurturing a confidence within. For the first time ever, I was committed to not only starting the fast – I’d done that plenty of times – but actually completing it. Sticking past the first week and truly challenging myself to abandon my comforts to dive deeper in my faith. Of course, everyone has their individual desires and hopes for fasting. My hopes were centered around LoveMo, craving a clarity to uncover more of His perfect plan for this project. I had my intentions. God had His. He won. The fast had almost NOTHING to do with LoveMo and everything to do with me. Parts of me I didn’t ask to uncover and parts of me that reeeally stretched that commitment to finish the fast. I wanted to throw in the towel almost 21 times in those 21 days. It was haaard. It’s hard to shine a light on yourself and yeah, sure, see the great parts, but maaan, see some not so great parts. To see areas of your life where you have contributed to some of your own hurts. Over those few weeks, God really held my hand – and my heart – helping me understand, process and break some unhealthy relationship patterns. Oh, and it didn’t end there. We moved into February after what felt like the longest month everrr (…can I get an AMEN!?) and February went even deeper.

February is the “month of love” and its surrounded by the hype of Valentines Day – a time to tell everyone how much you love them and shower them with chocolate, flowers, and expensive dates, right? But we were also fresh off the tragic passing of Kobe Bryant, which for me, and many others, just highlighted this desire to want to make the most out of your days. To tell the loved ones in your life how special they are to you. EVERYDAY. It created this urgency to want to sprint ahead, but also this heaviness that almost pulled me back at the same time. Towards the end of the month, relationships that were once rock solid became increasingly unstable, only adding to my emotional wrecking and highlighting internal issues that needed to be addressed, processed and healed. And in that wreckage, I found my word: CONFIDENCE.

Only this confidence was flipped on its side. A confidence, covered in a new perspective, shining bright for me to see. Sure, I was still growing in boldness and assertiveness and stepping into new realms of self awareness. I was still transforming.

But that same confidence that I was on the hunt for – faith, home, work, dating, public speaking, LoveMo, ministry, birthing new ministries and community – turned a new leaf. I was beginning to develop something. A confidence I’d never experienced before. Uncomfortable situations. Difficult conversations. The strain in friendship. Same theme over and over. Uncomfortable situation = Monique learning to find her voice. Difficult conversation = Monique learning to assert herself. Ruffled feathers in friendship = Monique learning to guard her heart while honoring it at the same time. Learning to address the feelings that lie within her, building up the courage to realize that her feelings matter too. And to stand in that. Gosh, that sounds so cliche, right? “You matter.” I’ve encouraged so many with that expression, but oddly enough, I’ve never spoken that over myself.

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But then came March.

And March brought with it this really numb space of emotion in which I found myself closed off to prayer and pushing away the hope for change. Because of an exhaustion and depletion fueled by the notion that I wasn’t doing this right. That I was hard to love. That I was stubborn to change. Plain and simple, a notion that I wasn’t running my race.

On THEIR mark.

Who’s mark was I on? Where was my focus?

Enter Coronavirus.

And the panic and pandemonium that came along with it. Suddenly, my questions were answered.

I thought…we weren’t created to live this way. We weren’t called to be fearful. To be bitter and unhappy when things don’t go our way. We aren’t meant to find our identities in our careers. We weren’t meant to kill ourselves – and our souls – working until we die, never pursuing the big God dreams of our hearts.

We’re purposed for so much more. Our faith should be much greater than our fears. Nothing is beyond hope. We’re just out of focus. We just need to recenter. Find Jesus. And we MUST run the race that God has set before us (Hebrews 12:1).

I listened to a podcast episode the other day that discussed the “unlearning” process we have to do as adults. Just as we learn new behaviors, patterns and mannerisms in our childhood, we need to unlearn some of the unhealthy ones that no longer serve us in our seasons of adulthood. Where was my opportunity for unlearning?

• Unlearning the comfort of comparison, realizing it consistently clouds the clarity of my calling. 

• Unlearning expectation, but still holding on to an expectancy that good will come.

• Unlearning fear. Ugh, that pesky stronghold that comes striking from time to time.

Somehow, someway, I have to start embracing the unknown. Stepping into a confidence rooted in faith. A confidence that rests in knowing that NO ONE knows where their finish line is. NO ONE knows where they stand in their story. And no one knows why things happen the way they do. But there’s fruit in everything. Every experience. Every person. Every season. And every storm. We must acknowledge where we are now. Applaud the progress we have made and the blessings we have received. And truly focus on squeezing the most out of each day.

“I don’t want anything keeping me from God’s best…including myself.” – Yvonne Orji

The night I selected my 2020 word, I made the following declarations:

2020 will be:

• A year of blooming in my own way.

• A year of clarity (…it is 20/20 after all! )

• A year where God shows me exactly how He sees me and how He loves me through every good and hard season. And one where I boldly stand in that.

• A year of finally believing that I am worthy of every good thing that God has for me.

• A year of trusting the process and learning how to rest in the waiting. As my sweet friend said “labor pains are real. He’s birthing MORE (than just LoveMo.)”

• A year to be met with assurance that He’s more interested in the internal than with the external.

• A year of releasing expectations but embracing a spirit of expectancy.

• A year of simply being. Right where I am. Knowing that I’m not ahead or behind, that I am right where He wants me.

• A year of extending grace, of honoring myself, my heart, my boundaries, my desires…my everything.

• A year of stepping out from behind the curtains, from behind the lies and behind the fears.

• A year of C O N F I D E N C E.

And I continue to declare that the season I misread as one of hiding, stagnancy and soaking was truly one of cultivation. A few months of tending to my soil and growing deeper roots to withstand the plans that lie ahead. With that, I say….BRING IT ON, APRIL! I’m ready for ya!