Black Women Have It Going On

Good morning from Colorado, where the peaks are tall and the truth sets us free! Today is Friday, May 29th, and my faith is secured in Christ Jesus! Thanks for stopping by my blog as we look at “The Cohesive Cure: A Strategic Rescue.”

For a long time, I looked back at my life as a series of fragmented pieces. I saw a girl sent to Arkansas as a “rejection,” a brother left behind as a “tragedy,” and a mother who acted as my “first enemy.” But as I’ve eaten this elephant piece by piece this month, a cohesive picture has finally emerged. I realize now that my life hasn’t been a series of accidents—it has been a long, intentional walk toward restoration.

The “Arkansas Rescue” was the turning point. While it felt like I was being cast out for my teen trouble, God was actually transplanting me. He moved me into new soil because He knew I couldn’t become the “Big Sister” Butch needed if I stayed in a house ruled by the unyielding forces of our past. I had to go away to find my own voice so that, decades later, I could return to that house and use that voice to tell the honest truth for both of us. My move didn’t just save me; it preserved the only person in the family tree honest enough to eventually clear the air for the generations to come.

But here is the in-your-face reality for anyone reading this today: We spend years crying over the doors that were slammed in our faces, never realizing that God was the one holding the handle. We grieve being “sent away,” being “unliked,” or being the one the family labeled as “unreliable,” without seeing that our exclusion was actually our protection. If you had stayed in that house, you would have been crushed by the same restrictive spirits that broke the ones you loved. You were “tossed” into a new life because you were the only one with enough spark left to survive the transplant. Your distance wasn’t a punishment; it was a preservation. You were sent away so that one day, you could be the one to come back with the light.

The Takeaway for Us

1. The Perspective of the Transplant: We often judge our lives by the “uprooting,” but the beauty is found in the “blooming.” One must trust the Hand that moves them, even when the new soil feels unfamiliar.
2. The Authority of the Survivor: You are the author of your history. When you are the one who survived the “horrid days,” you have the divine privilege of writing the final chapter for those who couldn’t.
3. The Strategic Silence: Sometimes God ties your hands and silences your defense because He is busy preparing a “Final Word” that no enemy can argue with.

Community Challenge

Look at the “jumbled pieces” of your own story this weekend. Can you see where a supposed “rejection” was actually a strategic rescue? I challenge you to stop calling yourself a victim of your history and start calling yourself the Preserved One. How does it feel to realize you weren’t “lost”—you were just being kept safe for a time such as this?

Scripture & Prayer

• Scripture: “But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.” — Genesis 50:20 (KJV)
• Prayer: Father, we thank You for the “Arkansas moments” that felt like endings but were actually rescues. We ask for the courage to lead our families into the promising lives You intended. Amen.

The Spiritual Seal

Remember: One must realize that the “Big Sister” was never lost; she was just being prepared in the quiet. A move to new soil is the bridge to a legacy restored. The story is cohesive, the heart is whole, and the “Iron Fists” have finally lost their grip. See you next month!