I did not want to leave. I did not want to leave all that was familiar and comfortable to me. However when I felt that gentle tug in my spirit to go to a house that would provide shelter for my daughter and I, I left my apartment along with my valuables and walked away from a life I once knew.

I know for sure. I met God once I got there. After I let Him for real at my New Life appointment I met my aunt. I never knew she was my aunt. I didn’t understand what Jesus was saying about who was his mother and brothers until I having to leave my relatives found my family.

She was my biggest advocate in a house where my almost five hundred dollars for a pepto bismal colored room could have gotten me a nice sized studio somewhere south, but I felt thatburge in my spirit. I had a choice. Go back to my way or finally listen to that gentle whisper in my spirit.

I decided to listen.

She commanded attention and respect. In a house full of women who were not too friendly to me and couldn’t respect the fact that I had to be up at 3am to get my daughter out the house walking three blocks to get to 55th and Wood to wait for the bus to take us to Kedzie so I could drop my daughter off by 4:30 and make it to work by 6 something to start a twelve hour day only to make it back in by 9 that evening to barely have enough time to rest to start all over again for the next day. She was my sounding voice. She was my advocate.

Last year she provided me a mothers love I have not felt for years now, and in return I showed her my healthy ways.

This year. We are in better places. My urging her to meet with God set up her appointment for a new life. She turned it over to him and the blessings have been flowing. The extra bedroom that she set up for my daughter overlooks a garden and the warm way she makes sure we have plenty to eat.

Her life has changed. Her sixty pound lighter frame and refrigerator full of healthy fixings, fruit, and salad and lean meat is displayed on the clothes hanging loosely off her body.

God is good to us.

So she invites us to the Bud Biliken Parade. I’ve never been so obviously my daughter hasn’t either. We get there and she is calling the toy man to buy my daughter one of everything. I want to go to a ministry meeting. Gentle urge is telling me to stay with my daughter as images of a scurrying crowd running is clouding my mind but I feel a pressing urge to go to church.

That tug though telling me to go back. I get all the way to cottage grove green line as the bus stands in front of me about to get on board and I decide to go back to my daughter.

We enjoy the parade and when 11:20 hit I feel that gentle tug again when our Aunt asks should we stay and take a cab home or go to catch the ride she has waiting for us at 12:00. I hear go. Leave. Pack up and keep moving from our stationed point between 41st and 42nd street. Lugging the bag of toys, my aunts chair and holding my daughters hand was enough.

As we return to the house I sit and listen to my daughter tell me of her dream. Her dream was what was most heavy on my spirit. The what its of a parade gone wrong.

The report comes through that there was a shooting in the area we were in at the parade. I don’t want to think of what ifs. All I known is my aunt wanted to stay I urged her to leave.

That gentle soothing voice in my spirit has not led me down a bad path nor led me astray.

I am learning to trust God. I am learning howntondiscern his urgings from my impatient fleshly ones. I give credit to my creator.

Yes. Today was a good day. We had fun and left a place that turned unsafe just twenty minutes after we left the area. How’s that for trust. How’s that for listening.

The urge is there. The importance is clear. Yes Lord a thousand days of happy can’t contain how blessed I am to know that listening to my maker yields great rewards.

Still. I am a believer.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s