See Your Way Clear

The drops felt warm and heavy as they pounded my weary shoulders. Hard enough, they seemed to bounce before crashing onto the black pavement. My breathing was labored. I was confused, angry, and exhausted. I had too many feelings to manage, with no remaining dark and empty corners in which to tuck away my troubles.

The Bible tells us not to worry about tomorrow, for it will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own (Matthew 6:34). But as I stood fighting to preserve parts of myself, yesterday, today, and tomorrow were collapsing. God seemed so distant. “What happens in this situation, God?” I asked. “Where do I cast all these cares?” And then I remembered: My husband will be home soon.

A familiar fear surfaced.

My marriage had grown volatile. Lately, its toxicity had begun spinning out of control. I could no longer keep a lid on what was happening behind the doors of my beautiful home. Divorce was imminent. My hip bones locked into place from the cold.

I mumbled incoherent thoughts because I had no shoulder to lean on. I didn’t care if my neighbors saw. I had earned this flash of panic, the right to crack under the weight of parenting, leading, repeatedly crawling out of the trenches, and jumping the mental hurdles of accomplishment. All I had was this single, brief moment. So I stood. Mumbling in the rain. To a God who did not seem in a rush to respond.

Have you ever had a time when you knew everything in your life was about to change but you were unsure if it would be for the better? Have you questioned the doors God has opened because of how you fumbled previous choices? Have you ever stood on a thin line between the old and new chapters of your life, wondering how it would all unfold? Shuffling through everything you thought you knew as you suddenly became unfamiliar with your own story?

Trembling and holding unanswered questions, I turned my eyes toward heaven and dared to open them. The rain blended nicely with the tears streaming down my face—both danced away from the pain in my dark brown eyes and the faint lines on my face.

These lines had been etched from silent stress, life in the trenches, and sleepless nights. They say the physical body keeps the score, but it was my mind on the ropes. I wondered how long my body and mind could carry the load.

“Where are you, God? My crazy is showing,” I thought.

Tomorrow the news would be out: I was being promoted to the position of senior vice president. This news should have been positive, but I knew better. The climb to this position had been too challenging. My peers had become enemies, and friends grew distant. Somewhere along the way, the goal had become about proving everyone wrong, including my uneasiness. Anxiety had taken root years prior in my career, nurtured by both leaders and so-called professional coaches. At the peak of my journey, I found myself burdened by relentless questions: “What if I fail?” and “What if I can’t bounce back after failing?” The acknowledgment of a fractured marriage only added to this drumbeat. Soon I would truly be doing this all alone.

Despite my professional achievements, growing financial bandwidth, and the accolades for my dedication, words from the past haunted me. Being the only Black woman in corporate spaces is difficult. Being the youngest executive adds an additional layer of complexity. Deciding to operate with conviction and integrity can create even more pressure. Throughout my career, I was periodically told, “If you fail, you will ruin it for those behind you”—a sucker punch that landed each time I heard it.

I knew it wasn’t wholly true. No single person is the precedent setter for younger women, people of color, Black executives, or women looking to advance above a corporate manager level. Yet here I was, trembling in the rain. Wrestling with deposits made by the ill-intended, prejudiced, and misled. Fighting to deny the self-doubt I had carried into this moment of vulnerability. Trying to find my voice and faded boundary lines.

During the climb to the top, in and out of the peaks and valleys I had become lost in the fog. I often lost sight of my passions and personal goals, assuming there was some reprieve to be found at these new finish lines. Buried somewhere within the opinions of people and professional accomplishments I hoped to find peace, acceptance, and a freedom that cannot always be defined with words. But now I knew no rest would be found at this peak. All I saw were bigger mountains with no place to hide and endless valleys with no shortcuts.

“I am so tired. God could fix this so quickly,” I thought with anger.

As I came back to myself, a sharp pain wrapped around my side. I was cold, and the curls in my hair were frozen from the chill in the breeze. “Why am I doing this alone, God? Have you left me again? Where are you?” I was struggling not only to gain clarity but also to move forward. As the soft wind carried my words away, I bit my chapped bottom lip, pulling at the wayward skin with my front teeth.

“I need to shower,” I thought.

I had to get dinner started and prepare a short speech because in twelve hours I would be walking through a door God had obviously kicked off its hinges. As I walked toward the entryway of the house, my mind remained in shambles. Pull it together, Bethny.

Now I was wet, and my situation appeared no different. I’d had no epiphanies, gotten no immediate comfort, and discovered no solid answers. I was still drowning under the growing list of fears, doubts, and shame attempting to take me under.

Navigating the tumultuous paths of life, laden with pain, scraped knees, and clenched teeth, is indeed challenging. Yet within this difficulty, there exists a profound assurance: God’s love transcends every bruise, mistreatment, and setback. It holds a power that eclipses our failures, dispels the shadows of distorted views, and cuts through the constant dis- tractions that seek to divert our focus.

In our journey to prepare for life’s unexpected moments, we seek wisdom from various resources, absorbing knowledge from books, articles, podcasts, and the wisdom of mentors. Yet, despite our efforts, we often find ourselves searching for courage amid life’s dirt roads and deep trenches, standing at the precipice of choice, wondering how we strayed so far from our center—the place where God provides unwavering strength and rest.