What Are You Wearing? Part 2
We are excited to present a blog post from our REAL Women Charles County Lead Facilitator, Keah Mason. Keah gives the most honest illustration of how we self-evaluate that I’ve read in a long time.
Experience it here and share your thoughts by leaving us a comment
or emailing us at info@realwomenrock.org.
A funk drove me here. Yep, I picked up a pen because I’m so funky, I can smell myself, and I stink. There’s a foul odor streaming from my pores and, I can’t even bear the stench anymore. I reak!
I smell of fear, anger, bitterness, envy, and brokenness. Tis the season to be grouchy and that smell is all over me in spite of just exiting the shower. My jaws are locked from frowning, my chest is tight, and I can hardly breathe.
I stink because I’ve been waking up in dirty situations. I’ve been putting yesterday’s clothes on over and over again, in spite of it being a new day. My obsession with Bath and Body Works can’t even cover up this funk.
I’ve been washing myself in the same filthy water for a minute now, and even I can’t bear the smell. The fragrance is so strong that it’s connecting to my other senses. The words that are coming out of my mouth are sharp, mean, and stern. Everything I see and hear makes me sick. I’m seeing, tasting, hearing, and smelling dirt, because it’s embedded in me now.
I’ve been praying out of routine and respect, but today, I decided to admit that I was just funky. I had just gotten out of bed and showered. I thought my clothes were clean, so why did I still feel so foul? No one had the chance to get on my nerves yet, so why was there such a funk in the air? No one was in the room, except me, so it had to be me.
As I prayed, I acknowledged the stench in my heart, my attitude, my mind… the stink that had managed to reach my soul. I asked God to bathe me. I asked Him to wash me in His truth because I was tired of feeling funky.
I told God I needed Him to purge me because I keep putting on old clothes that He’s been wanting me to get rid of. I told him I know He has a new outfit for me to twirl around in, but I’ve been wanting to dress in what I’m familiar with, even though I know those clothes didn’t fit me anymore.
I’ve been feeling too down to dress up. I’m broke, tired, lonely, unsure, disappointed, and scared. But even with those feelings plastered across my forehead, I decided to ask God to clean me up. I asked Him to let the dirty clothes of ragged lies and resentment fall right off me. I cried out for the tattered garments to slide off me so I can stop wearing this mess. I petitioned myself to stop hiding in the costumes designed to keep me masked. I asked God to free me of the shame and hatred I had been putting on every day and to clothe me in His amazing love.
I’ve been wearing hand-me-downs of generational curses and ugly patterns that I’ve been too afraid to separate myself from. Today, I decided I can wear something else without forgetting who I came from. I made the decision to be intentional about change.
I want to be scented in the essence of God’s character and the aroma of His truth. I don’t wanna be wrapped in bondage and carrying all these heavy bags anymore. I wanna travel lighter and prance around in my freedom dress. I wanna hold my head up and smile like I know my Father adores me. My credit cards are maxed out, but my Father is giving me a new, fancy wardrobe. I wanna be fully clothed in His armor. I wanna feel better so that I’ll smell better.
Funk got me here, but it helped me realize…I need to change my damn clothes.