I went to bible study by myself this week! 👐 Yay Christina! For a person who used to experience extreme anxiety around people, stare into space and not really function; I’m thinking I’m getting better. Thank you Jesus! So as I greeted people with hello making friendly eye contact and hugged people during the greet your neighbor call I felt above it until after church. I walked out of service and called out to a girl I thought was one of my classmates from undergraduate. “Candace!” She turned around and nope it wasn’t her. “Oh, I’m sorry I thought you were a girl I know name Candace.”
Oh, I felt awkward. I even said it. “Oh my gosh, this is so awkward.”
Yeah, so people calling me awkward use to hurt my feelings so much. It made me feel inordinate I guess and after one night I thought my brother was calling me awkward I a 23 year old woman went in the room and cried. My sister asked me what was wrong and I told her. What she said to me was a aha aha moment. I honestly don’t remember what she said, but it made me change my position on being awkward I know that! I felt better about me, so when I accidentally addressed the wrong person I didn’t feel bad for myself after. I just told me ” haha I guess these things happen to people.” It’s a part of being human.
Yesterday, I started my job! I’m excited to be able to work and pay my bills because the struggle was getting real. I work as a teacher’s assistant with K through 5 graders at the Y. The kids are constantly giving me nostalgic feels! I think they think I’m a kid too! 😋
Today, I played a game of Telling- Time BINGO with some of my students. They were beating me to say the least. While playing one little girl came over and watched the game. I invited her to join, but she said she would wait for the next game. Instead when I called I-8:40,she walked over to one of the girls looking right over her shoulder saying “8-4.8-4.8.4” The other little girl said, “Stop it!”
Before I knew it, I said ” Why are you being mean to her?” She didn’t say anything to me-just looked,so I repeated myself. The girl who she yelled at walked away.
The other little girl, still sitting in front of me, turned kind of red and put her head down.” I’m not mean because I said stop it.” It sunk in for me. Yeah, that’s true. Although I didn’t see anything wrong with the girl over her shoulder, she did. She wasn’t being mean, but she was just standing her ground.
I replied to her, “you’re right. You’re not mean for saying that.” So many times I think that standing my ground like saying something so simple like “stop it” or “I don’t like that” will make me “mean.” No, actually it just makes me confident enough to use my voice and that’s okay. In term, it just makes me mean to me, which is not okay! I think to say something like “no” takes fierce audacity and I’m learning from the kids.
I’ve long been back in the states for about two months. My trip to Ghana was refreshing. I’ll cherish the love I felt there in my heart. I had some time to reflect while I was there too. Around this time in September, I was supposed to be headed to Estes Park, Colorado for a position I committed to at a continuation school. When I agreed to the position, I was desperate to get away from my family and find a job before I left college. In that desperation, I made a decision. When I sat in solitude many nights in Ghana almost frustrated with myself, I felt a need to follow my dreams. In review, the position in Colorado, although stable and monetarily beneficial, was not something I was passionate about. I was having cold feet.
Before I arrived back to California, I stopped in the District of Columbia, my dream city by the way, to see a friend. We talked and laughed and prayed and on our way back to the airport her car overheated. I was about to miss my flight. I frantically called my dad who just so happen to be in D.C. and he paid for my Uber. Crazy how things work out though!
My Uber driver was super entertaining. We were talking and he asked me what I wanted to do after college. I told him, ” I want to write plays, act, and direct. My goal is to move out here.” My goals had nothing to do with the commitment I made to Colorado. I didn’t even mention my job agreement in Colorado. He encouraged me by saying that whatever I want to do go for it. Don’t sell myself short because of the limitations I put on myself. He also said that it’s better to go for your dreams now than to do it when you’re his age and he shared with me his life.
I left that ride knowing it was sign, but I still made a commitment back in Colorado. After much toiling, I felt like I made a decision. I sat with my Father and I heard him say “You are right where you need to be.” I felt ashamed for turning the position down, but all things work together for good. I’ll be teaching theatre at the YMCA on the side while pursuing my dreams.
My Father knows the plans he has for me . Plans to give me hope and a future. I’m engraved in his hand, but sometimes I forget his truths and start doubting his timing. I’m so impatient with myself, which I see in my life has caused me to make countless decisions out of desperation.
Please don’t be desperate about anything! My mom who I know discerns my impatience tells me “Be anxious for nothing…” A biblical truth I really need to hold fast too.
I arrived in Accra yesterday night at about 5:20pm. Before getting on my flight from Brussels with Brussels Airline, there was a white obese German man dressed with a purple polo shirt and a country western hat; he was one of few non-black people among us, who pushed through the crowd stopping our procession onto the plane yelling “what is going to happen to my luggage?” “Is my luggage on the plane?” He got so live that the flight attendants had to calm him down before letting him on the plane. I overheard someone say, he had fresh meat inside of his bags. I don’t know what it really was, but it was quite humorous. When we arrived in Accra, I went to baggage claim expecting to see my purple luggage with my plaid purple tags on it and my green bag that says “Take me with you” in neon pink writing straight from Vicky’s Secrets, but I saw nothing. I was puzzled. I asked airport staff if this was all the luggage from flight SN277 with Brussels Airline. He said “this is not the luggage for that flight. Keep straight, go out those doors and make a right. They will help you.” I took his instructions and walked on meeting a big crowd. The same people from my flight to Accra. People were yelling words I couldn’t understand and some people were yelling English. I knew something had went wrong with our bags. After ear hussling, I heard a lady speaking with her sister yelling they have nothing. I noticed a girl who looked to be around my age. She was speaking a language to another one of the white fellas who was on the plane with us, she spoke to her kin in a language, and also spoke English. I asked her what’s going on? ” Brussels Airlines did not put our luggage on the plane,” she said. “They gave us this paper, but it doesn’t say anything. It doesn’t give us a number or anything.” I asked her to see the paper and sure enough it gave no great details. She suggested I stand in line to get my name on a list so that I can come back inside the airport tomorrow. This process took 3 hrs. I left the airport around 9:30pm. I witnessed six different arguments breakout from frustrated travelers. Some travelers even started stepping in and helping the staff out with their jobs, which I thought was funny. It was quite the experience, but the whole time I wasn’t annoyed or anything. I am just thankful the plane didn’t decide to fall from the sky. I count being luggage-less as apart of my adventure here. I hope to take this same outlook back with me to the USA. Setbacks are apart of the experience. Find peace in the midst of it through gratitude . . I also should have been forewarned by the country western man before getting on the flight.