Lately, I’ve been fighting to keep my BIRTHRIGHT.. (pt. 1)
The Narrow Road.
I’ve never challenged the existence of a God. As a child it just “made sense”. I was able to look around and see God’s hand on everything, (my inheritance from, Inger). At my young age I found Atheism to be nothing other than illogical-foolishness. “How could they not see?”, I remember protesting to my mother as we drove up Main Street, admiring the transition colors of the clouds amidst their routine sunset.
“Look in the mirror and you’ll see, you did not get here on your own.”
Lately, I have been fighting for my salvation and asking God to help me understand what, “salvation”, even means. Thus far I know, that the main enemy from which I need saving is myself. I’ve been fighting for the right that I was born with. And the conception of that right had to pass through the birthing canal of sacrifice: Though His flesh naturally had reservations about meeting such a brutal, shameful and bloodied end, it had to be done. All in order to pass along the ultimate gift. There must be a sacrifice. Even the devil requires sacrifice. But in his counterfeit nature what he offers suffices for yet a moment and the true reward lies to be discovered post death.The generation walking the Earth today was born with the right to walk with God just as Adam did. God formed you in His own image and called you beloved. It is by no one else’s choices other than our own what in the beginning was free, now costs greatly. It cost Jesus His life. Yahweh His son. Mary her baby and the disciples their master all so that the original and ultimate gift could become once again, a birthright. The cost of our inheritance is a choice.
Though our birthright, we often trade it in for what is temporarily pleasing. Like Esau and Jacob, unbeknownst to them, both carrying the early building blocks of which the church of Christ stands. Esau, first born to Issac (son of Abraham, “Father of all nations.”), with due inheritance found himself famished, hot and “starving”. Meanwhile, his younger brother was inside cooking stew. In his present and deceitful state he petitioned his younger twin brother to feed him. In Jacob’s cunning and “heal grabbing” nature he would comply but at the cost of Esau’s literal birthright. Overcome by his temporary desires to satisfy his flesh, Esau, surrendered what both his earthy and Heavenly Father set aside for him. His portion. His future. And his promise.
All for a bowl of stew.
What “stew” are you temporarily enjoying at the cost of your birthright?
I’ve come to a point in my walk where God has begun to shift my heart towards the treasure He gave to me and is mine if I choose. I was able to come to Him the way that I was but I have not been granted access to stay as I am. Godly sacrifices must be made. For the chance at an eternity with Him. Eternity is something that is impossible for humans to understand without God’s wisdom. The lack of true understanding is why we take lightly the finality of our own deaths and consequently the death of choice, evident by how we toy with our lives through various and consistent acts of disobedience.
I have surrendered every vision I once had for myself. Marriage, children, wealth, renown, having my own marijuana garden in my the dream home, becoming a part of #Vanlife and traveling for a living, owning a farm on a French countryside, “Eat, Pray, Loving” myself through the world; I have had fantasized much about my life and how it “should” look. But when your own vision for your life supersedes the purpose for which God called you and to the point where the potential to align with His vision is not there, where does your Father truly lie in your heart? The answer to this question is something I have been working to solidify.
It is possible that the Lord may seek to bestow some of these thing to me one day or He may never, He may even have something better. Because I have decided my life is not my own anymore, those answers rest with Him and I will look forward to what lies ahead and be okay if our visions were different. What matters is the posture of the heart. Through His grace I have reached a point where I am willing to say..
“ I would rather have you Lord, even if it means I sacrifice my ideal self. Remake me from the inside to reflect your image. Amen.”
— because surely the omnipotent, omniscient and Eternal One who created all things (including myself) should have a sliver of insight, right? ...
[TO BE CONTINUED]
PROVERBS CH 3 {ESV}
Trust in the Lord with All Your Heart
1 My son, do not forget my teaching,
but let your heart keep my commandments,
2 for length of days and years of life
and peace they will add to you.
3 Let not steadfast love and faithfulness forsake you;
bind them around your neck;
write them on the tablet of your heart.
4 So you will find favor and good success[a]
in the sight of God and man.
5 Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
6 In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
7 Be not wise in your own eyes;
fear the Lord, and turn away from evil.
8 It will be healing to your flesh[b]
and refreshment[c] to your bones.
9 Honor the Lord with your wealth
and with the firstfruits of all your produce;
10 then your barns will be filled with plenty,
and your vats will be bursting with wine.
11 My son, do not despise the Lord's discipline
or be weary of his reproof,
12 for the Lord reproves him whom he loves,
as a father the son in whom he delights.
AMEN
Day 86: Here it is
In honesty and truth my world is being shaken up right now. Just questions on top of questions, from the questions that I already had questions about. There's a very deep-rooted peace, but it's suspended below the chaos of my brain trying to process it all. I suppose I should let you know what "it all" is…
Earlier in the year, I mentioned that I didn't have a menstrual cycle. This is something that I've always been incredibly insecure about and at the same time, after seeing the suffering of other women of clothes, something I've been very blessed to not have to experience regularly (I suppose). There's a give-and-take. I have always wanted children, nothing quite as much...On Friday I took two buses to get to the Rheumatic Disease Center up in Bayshore. The second bus was completely empty. It was cold, windy, cloudy and rainy. The Light of the Seven, a song paired with a scene from Game of Thrones where impending doom (that only a few knew of) was on the horizon. My walk through the parking lot was alone— no one coming in, no one walking out. Somehow my steps synced up perfectly with the changes in the music. (All I could think about was good writing material this moment was.) I envisioned the series of shorts I could developed based off my life. Because that's when my life is— a movie. But for who's entertainment? I genuinely thought I was done with my share of life-changing news. Sounds silly right? Why would I expect to go through the remainder of my life pain-free at 25? It sounds cynical but it's just true, trouble has a way of meeting with us all eventually. And for some of us, every ounce of that trouble works for our good. And for some of us, the good within or surrounding the bad can be recognized before it is understood. I'm working on that right now.
My symptoms have been growing more present. My right hand mobility is fluctuates in capability and mobility. Some of my knuckles are beginning to round out. I feel changes in my feet. Energy is precious now. Steps are calculated. Walking may include a slight limp. Something was going on and I suppose I am happy for an answer and I suppose I am happy for a plan of action. But I just wasn't expecting all of this and all of this right now. I'm 25 years old, I've never had a recurring menstruation cycle, I'm anemic (which makes perfect sense because I'm perpetually freezing) and I have an auto-immune disease. I'm also an Artist with arthritis. The one thing we're all told to fear to fear, for it's the death of our career (they say). And being that the body is one connected organism— my research shows that the two are potentially. I wonder what came first — the Chicken or the Egg?
What am I supposed to do with all of this right now? —I don't know. I'm still processing. I come from a churchgoing family of course the consistent theme is “God is a healer”,(True) “Be encouraged”,(Don’t tell me how to feel), “This is just so God will get the Glory” (Sounds sadistic), “don't fall into despair.”(My process is my process.) I was also raised to not “claim”. “Don’t claim it.” Those words are so heavy and confusing. Confusing, because before I found out I wasn't “claiming” (By which that was my outwardly spoken language) and I seemed to be able to move around easier. Since finding out, I'd be lying if I didn't say I haven't spent most of my weekend in bed. I'd be lying if I said I haven't cried more this weekend than I have in a while. I'd be lying, if I said my inner fire to fight with words has started to dim. In my heart of heart of hearts I know that it will all make sense one day. But today, right now. I just don't know. And that's just where I'm at right now. I have so many questions. Like why right now when I'm completely alone and only have myself to take care of me. Will that work in making me stronger? Because the loneliness makes me weak. It's so hard to be strong for yourself, and it's so fucking ironic that I'm trying to be strong for myself while my body is actively fighting me. But I am not the first to go through this and I am not the last. I also am incredibly blessed to have found out when I did, because if I would have waited a second longer, I'm afraid of where I would be. Overuse of my fingers makes them swell and sore and the resting shape of my right hand is already beginning to bend more than my left. It's scary, it's hard to process. In my heart of heart of hearts there is faith. And that faith is so vague it's just holding out for the good to come. I have no faith that I will not face challenges in life. Having faith doesn't mean that the bad things don't come it's just an intentional energy shift when they do. But this is not one of those, “let-me-just-cast-my-cares-on-the-Lord-and-let-him-work-it-out -while-I-just-stand-still” type of problems. I have to fight. I stepped into active duty this weekend. Been a soldier but now im feeling more like warrior. I was gifted waistbeads from Ghana from Miyoshi and Deja fit them to me. I felt like I was having my war regalia placed on me. I have to fight for myself. If I want to be well it's gonna take work. Diet and exercise Will become key for me. My blood work shows that I am lacking in nutrition. I need a lot of work. There's so many moving pieces to just one life.. It's no wonder as humans we identify ourselves by our struggles and the things we were able to overcome. The shit ain’t easy.
Y'all pray for me though, send me some love, I'll take all the good external energy I can get
-M
Day 85: I decided I love you & I need you.
I was so bogged down and stressed out— all by my own hand. I placed all of these expectations on myself, and for who? – Me. But why? I don't know. I can't say why. I began to drive myself away from the very thing that was helping keep me together. Putting an unrealistic writing quota on myself. (Haven’t talked about unrealistic expectations before?) I forgot why I made the space in the first place. I need it. I felt so lonely again, when I don't use my voice I feel like a pearl whose been forced back into her clamshell. Maybe that's my own defense mechanism? -Self isolation. My default is bad for me. It's good to be self-aware though.
This is my space. Closing it to myself only brought me grief. But I was afraid, that this love was actually toxic and was hurting my body— nonsense. I just need balance. But as of yesterday my life has officially changed for this foreseeable future. And today I just needed to talk to a friend about it. So here I am. I've decided I have something to say. I've decided that I have to fight, I've decided that I can't do it alone. I've decided that I need you. I can't promise that I'll be there every day, but I will when I can. I'm just trying to get it all figured out right now..
Would you like to come back in? I got some tea on the stove…
-M
Day 79: 次回まで
Within this past month I've unlocked new boxes —ones within and some without. I’ve gained insight and I’ve lost metaphorical weight. It is time that I continue to sort through my findings alone. I would like you to consider this collection of intimate correspondence a prelude? or a sample or trial of a book— a book one day to come. Either way we will meet again. I am an Artist who cannot stay bound to one form of expression for so long. When it’s no longer working, it’s time to move on. I have a collection of tools and instruments in my gift box. Understand that the work will carry on. The expansion of my Universe is continuous by design. When I move I shift with what feels natural. Writing always feels natural to me however sharing myself with anything or anyone right now feels not so. Taking it all back for me. Know that I have so much peace, so much joy, so much hope for the future. I'm proud of myself. I've never felt more brave, more beautiful, I'm proud to be who I am. Proud to have my name. I love who I am, and this season is for preservation and expansion. This is the path I walk alone. Alone but never alone. You’ll see me and I will see you. And when you do see me, embrace me. I can't wait to meet you (my invisible audience). I got nothing but love to give you. Thank you for tuning in.
Signing off,
Morgan Chandler Bouldes
Go in Grace.
Day 73: Grace Period.
My life has become one large hack. Every day I'm finding an easier way to do one thing or the next. Discovering which muscles I haven't used as frequently in an effort to try to relieve my hands. Keys get turned with two hands now. Plates get slid off the counter onto the opposite wrist and then picked up from there with both hands. It's really fascinating how one chooses to fight when healing is the goal. I find myself talking to my blood , reminding it that I love them and asking it not to fight me. I whisper sweet things to my wrist into my hands, and I let them know that I will love them no matter what. I kiss them. I remind them, that they aren’t bad, or broken, that there's nothing wrong with them and that we are just under attack. "Please don't fight me", I asked my blood cells. Every day is a search for a more ergonomic way to do something that I've been doing one way forever. When it comes to my journals I fight the feeling of defeat. Knowing that I've broken my streak and the disappointment that comes with letting yourself down. Where is the Grace? Where is the understanding? There is only one person who truly understands and knows exactly what I go through on a daily basis... And even still it's hard for her to accept my reasonings as valid. Typing practically disables me almost instantly. I can feel the fluid rushing to my hands, my joints stiffening and the muscles and tendons in my palms and wrists quickly began to sore and swell. Performing for my job is wildly uncomfortable. Extracurriculars seem more and more out of reach. Part of me feels like these journals alone may have sped up any underlying illness that laid dormant within already. I'm not sure. But I'm clinging for dear life with all the faith in me that this will pass from me and at the very least not stop me from moving and shaking.
You have to keep your spirits high. It's so easy to slip and fall on the inside and be riddled with self-pity. Can't go there… Can't go there. Today I had to have one of my students open up my pill bottle—I'm 25. This is not the reality I envisioned for myself, but at the same time love a good fight. A righteous fight caters to purpose. I'm still waiting for an official diagnosis (or should I say praying against one) and I'm still waiting to see a specialist. But there's something going on, and as soon as I find out what I'm up against war will be waged. I'm already in battle training. Working from the inside out, spirit strengthening is essential. I am my own coach. Just today I started to slip, despair started to over come me.. sitting on a bench watching all the students go by, staring at their hands, watching how they move with ease, how they carry and grip things. Sadness and blues began to creep in. And I told myself.. “Oh no you don't. No you don't. Don't you dare. Don't you dare. You don't cave into the lies. You don't listen to them, those inner thoughts and visuals where my hands are deformed and unusable. I tell myself I know you don't. You fight. You pray. God still sees you. He sees all of us. He's with all of us. There are people who have been sick long long time and he's still with him. So don't you dare, when you get weak you fight. You know how you fight court? You pray. Worship. You speak life. You think life. Those are just the first steps. I will admit that I've worked on my spirit man more than I've worked on my physical. I have such an issue with consistency, which is why I was so proud of myself for pushing through for the first 60 days or so of these journals. But there is still well over 200 something days for me to redeem myself. I can't get myself to do anything on a daily basis. How do I change that? It's up to me to see the value in things that don't have immediate payback. One of those lessons I'm still trying to learn. But in this season, there's never before been a time so necessary for me to extend grace to myself when I need it. There's a lot of different things on my plate and I am the only person who fully understands and I am the only person judging myself. Practicing what I preach, I remind myself it's all a part of the plan —You just keep walking the path.
Affirmation: I refuse to let this stop me. I refuse to let this stop me. I will be healed. I will be functioning. I will not lose my dreams. I will not lose my effectiveness. I will live the life I was meant to live. Thy will be done.
Day 69: State of Being
Today was a day where I was reunited with bits of communities that I have been separated from for some time now. It was leiden with burst of laughter and joy and sprinkled with an amazing first time meal. Today was filled with conversations across spectrums of complexity and states of being. Today I was able to speak about my experience in a true safe space. Today I was able to introduce myself unadulterated, unfiltered and honest. I felt good. I felt good to introduce myself by the things that I know that I am rather than the things that I've earned in the eyes of society and academia. My name is Morgan Chandler Bouldes and I am a healer.. It's not too often I get to proudly lead with that portion of my identity. It felt good to be able to use affirmative language toward myself. It's something I've struggled to do for so long. And if I think about that now what is it about the presence of some people that would lead me to question the presence of my own personhood. I don't have too much to say, but I'm proud of myself. I saw myself in the mirror today and I was indulged by the sight of myself. I am proud of myself. Being away from home right now and being back in Michigan it's so hard for me to tap and regurgitate while I'm still here. All I can say for today is that today was a day that I appreciated. Today was a good day.
Day 68: Questions
I'm thinking about my life as a movie. My life being a linear narrative with this nonlinear meta-narrative all happening at the same time. I look at myself as myself but then I also imagine myself being a character in this cosmic drama that plays itself out and builds one day at a time. It's how I rationalize with the idea of being alive. Each moment is just one more block added to the next shaping and forming what we will call our own. Our own ideas, experiences, relationships, connections; the moments that construct the context of life. Each day gives it meaning. Each meaning furthers the complexity. If I think about us just as bodies then it's interesting how all of the pens were set out to play. How roaming pieces of mass find themselves from one location to the next. Just stars making their own orbit. What's driving the orbit? What makes us move from one place to the next? What allows the freedom of movement or the lack thereof? What enables? How do we see ourselves as pieces to the divine puzzle?
I'm thinking of all of the steps it took for this body of mass to end up in this very room that I’m in right now. I’m thinking about the invisible forces that guide two people down the same collision course. Will they collide and conglomerate or combust? How do you know when you love someone? Is it the way they make you feel or is it just something about them that you just couldn’t help but love?
And the pain you suffer.. Does it build or destroy you? Is that up to you at all?
How much of my life was pre-destined and how much did I bring about by my own hand?
Day 67: New beginnings
I’ve missed you so. These days speaking with you has become a fight. In my absence I have digested the shock to the system that was the 5 year mark of a last goodbye. I have also began to settle in the potential of a death of another kind some would say.. I have been given a prognosis of having Rheumatoid Arthritis... Seeing it written out is a completely different thing. But in an effort to still feel connected to what has been an instrument of expression from within my purest self since I can recall— writing by hand— I have decided to press pass the stiffness and swelling that progresses with every letter typed. I love you that much.. A note to me and a note to you.
Every Artist fears arthritis. Me, I never even considered it. But I have decided to let it pass through me. By happenstance this Artist has been sharpening tools elsewhere in recent years. I have an entirely new weapons collection and they’re all made of spirit. I have decided to fight and wage war. Mind, body and spirit. I have declared, “No”. No — I will not become disfigured. No— I will not lose mobility. No— I will not let this overrun me and what I came to do. Along side my “No’s” are even more reverberated Yes’s. Yes to my health and long life. Yes to my longevity. Yes to my purpose still being fulfilled. But in all thing Yes to you Lord and Yes to your will. May it be done. And within that faith and trust that I have for the will of God— be that my immediate healing or a new means of navigating life— I claim both my healing and my peace. I believe I can have them both. And in either scenario.
How I function on a daily basis has become noticeably more challenging. Privileges I held prior to, it is only now that I see clearly how I took them for granted. The mundane becomes frustrating and difficult. All the while speaking words of encouragement aloud to myself to push through. Opening cans or bottles. Getting dressed. Turning keys and knobs. Pouring into a glass. It’s, “I know. Come on baby you go this. You can do it baby.” In a lot of ways it just feels like my Inner Inger teaching me how to properly wage a war of love over yourself.
All in all this body is due to run its course and breakdown as time progresses. But not right now. I’ve got too much to do.
My lineage is both parts military and prayer warrior — I was bred for a time such as this. Let’s get it.
Day 58: Two more days and then we celebrate.
I'm very much so looking forward to the day I have planned for us on Tuesday. I will not be entertaining my students and have decided to cancel class. I've also decided to treat her day like my birthday, doing the things in which she would have on her behalf. Pouring that love back into myself. My day will be: going with breakfast at my favorite spot (Inger), followed by a trip to HomeGoods for a new comforter and set of sheets (very Inger), continued by a Mani Pedi , CBD body treatment and massage (Inger all day), then back home for a nap and then after that back out for a new dinner spot and in conclusion back home to dye my hair. All in all I'm going to have a very Inger ass day. I thought about getting a little vile with a cork top and taking some of her ashes with me, but it's too fucking traumatizing. I don't think I can do it. I'm all good with her in spirit, but to think about the process of her flesh undergoing cremation.. Honestly, I’d just rather not. Seeing ashes is one thing but handling them, potentially spilling them, dust in the air?.. Thats a beast for another year. She's with me in spirit and I carry half of her in my being. It's just hard for me to see because we're so damn alike. But I know she'd rather me do me all day than cry all day. I don't have any sadness in me, not right now. Just excitement.
It's going to be a good day.
“ My passion for people could be seen through bonds forged with those I helped through my social work. I never liked the idea of an abuse survivor not having a friend to lean on when they finally decided to take that first step. Who would hug the broken child and remind them that they were special, pour into them and create a safe haven while they navigate foster care? It was this heart–felt tugging that led me to obtain a bachelors degree in science and psychology with honors from Indiana Tech in 2011. After eight years of living in Indiana, I came back home to be near my family and friends. The night I got settled in, I laid down in Momma's guest bedroom. The house was quiet, and I heard a voice say, "I brought you here to heal you." I knew it was God because I wasn't afraid, and felt comforted. Three months later, as I was in bed, I felt a pain in my right breast. After a mammogram, which resulted in a biopsy, I was asked to come into my doctors office. The paint in the exam room was so dated, and the office smelled like curry. Pepto-Bismol pink and a 1990s teal … yikes! I would have designed the room to be more tranquil had I've been a commercial designer. But, the colors were a distraction, and I needed that. When my doctor walked in, she grabbed my hand and apologized. "I'm so sorry! It's Breast Cancer – stage two, and versus invasive ductile carcinoma. The good news is that I believed it's been caught early. Thank God you Felt the lump. Breast cancer doesn't hurt and you are quite busty. So it's all good. Somebody is looking out for you!” ”
To be continued…
Day 57: T-3 days…..Mama taught me
One of the greatest lessons my mother ever taught me, she taught me after she passed. The one thing that I could carry into every situation, into every trial and into every earth shattering heart punch. Something I had all along, but didn't understand the power of it. That if I just focused on it I can bring peace and calm to the rest of my body and regain conscious thought and bring stillness to the rapid heart. She gave up hers and I found the importance of mine. In her absence, I learned how to breathe.
Breathe
“So, I tell myself, breathe Inger! Just go ahead and breathe... Deep. Not those short, choppy breaths that leave you panting. Breathe slow and deep, one breath at a time. Close your eyes if you must and consider the lilies... They don't toil. Think about the birds, they were a knot. Take in the air and let it saturated, fill up those lungs, then exhale slowly. Again... Do it again. Minutes will turn into hours, and it will be over before you know it.
One slow, deep breath at a time.”
Written by Inger D. Bouldes Copyright © 2016