Yes, on my 56th birthday, I found myself engaging in a “one-sided” fist fight with a man, no less! This traumatized me so much that I needed to go into my prayer room for understanding and forgiveness.
About 6 years ago, I found myself going through a self- healing process. Prior events in my life had left me in a dark, scary place, living life hating myself, demeaning myself of not being enough and of not being worthy of anything good, street of destruction. I always felt that God decided to put me in a glass bubble of protection. He removed people and things from my life without me knowing why. He kept me in the hallway with only my cell phone to use as a communication device to the atmosphere.
In that glass bubble, God taught me how to trust Him, while I could look outside at the life that was going on around me, while keeping me inside His protection, showing me the life that’s surrounds me, my mind, body and spirit.
In my glass bubble, I couldn’t put myself in arms way to protect anyone, to love anyone and to be abused by anyone. If I found a crack that made me vulnerable and stirred me up to break free, God knew that I wasn’t ready and He would lovingly turn me away with a whisper saying, “take a picture”. So, for 6 years, that’s what I did. I took a picture everyday which included a word, scripture, motivation, inspiration or yes, even a agitational mindset of sad feelings that was feeding my spirit.
I am a warrior, I know. My whole life since my father passed, I knew in my spirit that I was to defend and protect in his place, the people who couldn’t protect themselves. I’m sure you can guess that I gotten beat up plenty! I suffered bruises of a broken heart, scars from being stabbed in the back and broken bones that resulted from being the one who was abused. But I took it all in stride because I was born to serve in that way. But it came the day that I couldn’t hold up my warrior banner anymore. I fell hard and I sunked deep into a dark empty pit of nothingness. I couldn’t fight back. I couldn’t find the strength to keep going and I couldn’t catch my breath to stand my ground. Why? I couldn’t because I was wearing a mask that broke and I discovered that I couldn’t fight for me. I didn’t know how to do that. Warriors fight for others, not for themselves, so I thought.
Not knowing how to fight for me, was like telling God that I wasn’t going to fight for Him. I wasn’t believing God when He told me that He was in me, that He makes beauty and not ashes, that He is the only one that can make something from nothing and He has plans for me that are greater than anything or anyone would know, so take a picture Sheila and speak life over yourself. Hear me in your ears, see me in your photos and feel me directing your steps.
So, for 6 years, I practiced this every day without fail. As I did, I could feel the reshaping of my warrior’s protection. I could feel the steel of my suit being formed inside of me, not just on the outside of me. Every day, I felt stronger, wiser, more loving of me from the inside out. I felt more belief in myself and I felt the change, reshaping my life inside of that glass bubble.
On September 23, 2017, I found myself fighting a man. I won’t name names or places because, really, it doesn’t matter. Only the witnesses that were there and whoever they have told will be aware of that information. That morning, I found myself in a conversation that was based on what I’ve studied and have a certification in, Nutritional Therapy. In this conversation, I was challenged on my knowledge and it made me feel, “not smart enough”. In my defense, standing my ground, I didn’t buckle and give into something I knew wasn’t true. This excited the man into showing it physically, by taking his hands and pushing me in the chest. I knew that because I was standing strong and confident, the impact didn’t move me, but it did take my breath away. A man had broken my glass bubble of protection but instead of me falling away, God breathe a new breath inside of me and as I exhaled, I followed through with a right punch! You would have thought that I was in a boxing ring, fighting the devil himself, taking back my dignity, taking back my strength and taking back my respect, trying to get that multi -million dollar knock out shot.
I was the woman who would take a smack down with a broken spirit, just to keep the peace. I was the woman who would acknowledge that they were right and I was wrong just to avoid an argument. I was the woman who suffered abuse and violence by taking the hits because I was the strong one who protected the ones who couldn’t protect themselves.
Lord, what happened? As I apologized to my punching bag victim for reacting in all ways that I always received, physically, emotionally and verbally, I cried. I didn’t cry because of pain, I cried a release of cleansing, a freedom of a new me!
God used a close friend, to break through the cracks of my glass bubble. I was ready. I was ready to start living how God made me. I know who I am and whose I am. I know where my strength comes from and what my truth is. I have been through the training of a true warrior who protects as well as who is protected.