I want to quit.
No, seriously, I want to quit. Everything. I want to start over and do it right. Or at least, start over somewhere else—fresh. Somewhere where no one knows my name and no one knows who I am.
I’d basically be invisible.
That’s sort of what I missed the most about New York, if anything. The ability to become invisible—lost in a sea of people where no one knew my name or anything about me.
If anything, New York was a place filled with opportunities, things to do, places to go, and people to meet. You were different. You were all alike. You met people and learned something. And if you screwed up—you could always start over.
Or at least, if you didn’t screw up and you knew it, you could become a voice.
I think, ever since I moved back to this tiny island, I lost that voice. Somewhere down the tunnel of depression, I got silent. I refused to say anything. Perhaps it was fear—the fear that everyone knew me, and that it would be easy for them to ‘kick me out’ (perhaps they could do that, perhaps they couldn’t).
And since, on this tiny island, everyone knew my name, it was hard to have a voice. Because if I was too loud, then someone who knew me would speak, and it would reach far and wide. It would ruin my reputation—it would ruin my family who worked so hard to get where they were.
But maybe, I need to be that voice.
The Voice Who Speaks
Someone has to speak. When I lived in New York, that someone was always me. I was a quiet person—most of the time. But I was always ‘the voice’; I am no longer that voice. I’m trying to figure out when exactly did I let people silence me.
I think it was something in New York’s air. I spoke out on my blog, I spoke out on Facebook forums, in the classroom, for the friends I knew—and the ones I didn’t. I questioned authority, I held on to who I was. I was fearless. Perhaps because God was with me, and I heard His voice and knew His name.
But then, I came to this tiny island. I was upset, boxed in, and angry. I was angry at God for forcing me to come back to this tiny island, and for that I gave up my voice. I remembered God saying he was allowing me to come back here to be BOLD, to be the voice. To be loud.
He said you have so much to say, so many ways to inspire, but you must start here. You must start at your home. They would despise you, but at least you have a voice, and I’ll take you to places, to people who want to hear you speak.
But, I came to this tiny island, and I lost that voice….
I lost that voice for a very long time. I was quiet for a very long time, refusing to say anything. Refusing to speak. What happened to the girl who defied authority, who challenged the norms, who spoke out for the friends she knew and the friends she didn’t? What happened to the girl who was willing to stand up for what she believed in?
The girl who ALWAYS spoke when it was required of her to speak?
Who silenced her?
No More Being Afraid
I think it was me. In fact, it was me. I silenced myself because I was afraid of what people would say. But then I remembered…
God didn’t give me a spirit of fear. On countless occasions, He taught me this. But He also reminded me that He too was once in my shoes. Once, He came to Earth, and went to His own people, and His own received Him not. “What good can come out of Nazareth!” they said. But He didn’t let the society silence Him.
He became THE VOICE in His own hometown. They rejected Him. He became the voice of the people, and while it led to a horrendous death, after three days, He rose again. He was the voice.
It might not be an easy road, I figured, but still, I was silent.
I think I’ve been silent for too long. I think I allowed people to walk all over me, and silence me, and tell me what to do and how to live my life. I think I’ve let people lead me astray. And because of that, I ended up here.
So, here I am, writing with tears telling you that I want to quit.
No Longer Silent
I want to quit being silent, and walked all over, and told how to live or what to do. Because, I was never that girl to begin with. I sit here writing because after an incident. I called to ask for help, and that help led me astray.
It nearly jeopardized the future of my job. I told the truth—at least, I think I did. But for telling the truth, a teacher came and told me that I cannot be helped, that she is finished with me, and that from now on I’m on my own.
It was hard and hurtful, and it was all because I let people dictate to me the path I should walk on. I refused to speak. I remained silent. I remained silent when I was asking her for help, only for her to come in the classroom and insist that my students complete a part of an exam that was supposed to be exempted. I tried to tell her this, but she insisted. And I let her walk all over me.
Instead of being the voice for my students—instead of saying no, I let her walk all over me. When it got me in trouble with the supervisor, I told the truth. I broke down and told the truth.
So, truth be told, it hurt. But it hurt in more ways than one. But perhaps that was my fault. It was my fault for not being the voice I was supposed to be. Perhaps it was my fault for not speaking out for those who needed it the most. Perhaps it was my fault for letting her take control, when I should’ve been the one to take control.
But then God whispers in my ear, how wonderful it must be that even when everyone else has given up on me, and would leave me on my own, He would always be with me.
And His words were He would never leave me nor forsake me.
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.
Deuteronomy 31:6
His departing words were “lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).
He tells me not to be afraid. That wherever I go, He will be there, as long as I remain in Him. It’s a hard thing to take into consideration. It’s an even harder thing to trust in. But the Lord is with me. What can mere mortals do to me?
The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid.
Psalms 118: 6
What can mere mortals do to me?
They may spread my name far and wide, they may speak ill of me. They may desert me, but it is always better to find my strength in God, than to trust humans. Humans fail, but God’s word is everlasting.
It is better to take refuge in the Lord
Psalms 118:8-9
than to trust in humans.
It is better to take refuge in the Lord
than to trust in princes.
So, to be the voice may be a hard thing to do—there is no way I’ll deny that being the voice may bring travesty, but if God be with me, then who can be against me?
What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:
“For your sake we face death all day long;
we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:31-39
Signed,
Can’t get enough of The Ravyn? Subscribe to my blog below:
The RAVYN Blog 