Author: Kaleathia Murphy

I woke up this morning with burdens brewing up inside of me. I’m having to constantly battle with all the hurts and offenses  that I try to forgive. It saddens me when someone drops off what someone has said about me. What grieves me  is that they want a response from me.

Experience has taught me that trying to prove how right I am doesn’t matter. I’ve learned to simply digest it and let whomever believe what they want. I don’t have time to refute every bit of gossip. I do understand that people have the right to say whatever they want about me. I can’t control that but I have full control over my mouth. What doesn’t it matter if I choose not say nothing? I’ve wasted many years talking to people who didn’t take heed to wisdom that I supplied.

Now, I let my words be few or none at all. I hurt when I know someone has spoken ill about me. Sometimes I even cry. Yet, my sadness brings about a birth of clarity. People will be people and I have the right to forgive and move on. This isn’t an overnight process. It takes time to see it spiritually once someone has hurt you. Being lead by the spirit, makes me see things how they are. My flesh can’t trick me into seeing something that doesn’t exist.

I simply understand that offenses will come in life,but I must use spiritually defenses to help me grow. I can choose to use my flesh or my spirit.

Maturity lets me know that God is with me and I’m not bearing whatever I go through alone.  I do hurt when I lose people who once were my friends, but I do understand purpose. With purpose some people aren’t suppose to be in life but for a season. 

As I get older, I find myself becoming more empathetic toward my parents. I’m beginning to see them as simply human beings—people navigating life the best they can. They didn’t come into this world knowing how to be parents, grandparents, or even elderly individuals. They’re learning, just as we all are, and they deserve a lot of grace for that journey.

Forgiving our parents and seeing them as people is powerful. They aren’t superheroes, nor are they flawless; they are simply human beings, just like us. I came across a beautiful tribute that an adult daughter wrote about her mom. She shared that she tries to remember her mother is not just “Mom” but a woman with her own dreams, a woman who wants to be loved and to experience all that life has to offer. That perspective struck a chord with me. As a mother myself, I realize that I, too, am just a woman trying to figure things out. I don’t have all the answers, and I’m still learning along the way.

This realization has deepened my appreciation for my parents. They may not have done everything perfectly, but neither do I. We are all doing the best we can, with what we know at any given moment. Embracing this view helps me offer more patience, forgiveness, and understanding toward my parents—and perhaps even toward myself.

As I reflect on the upcoming weekend, a sense of anticipation fills the air. It’s the calm before the storm, the last moments of an era marked by constant pain in my right hip. In just a few days, I’ll be undergoing surgery, stepping into the unknown with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

I find solace in a philosophy that has been my guiding light since elementary school—a philosophy grounded in the belief that a try is a 50/50 chance of success. Back then, I understood the power of attempting the unknown, of facing challenges head-on even when the path seemed uncertain. It wasn’t about innate intelligence; it was about embracing the numbers game of life.

My husband and I recently delved into our memories of those formative years. I shared with him my mantra of taking on assignments, not because I knew how to tackle them, but because trying was better than not doing at all. It became a catalyst for my academic success, a mindset that echoed through the corridors of time.

Now, as I stand on the brink of a medical procedure, I recall a conversation with my doctor about the potential risks of hip replacement—my leg might be an inch longer, there’s a risk of infection, and other uncertainties. Yet, I boldly declared my preference for these new problems over the relentless pain that has gripped me. It’s a choice to step into the unknown, to face the possibility of challenges with the optimism that they bring.

Life, much like my upcoming surgery, is riddled with unknowns. And perhaps, there’s a bit of a Buzz Lightyear moment in all of us—a declaration to go “to infinity and beyond.” It’s an acknowledgment that the journey ahead holds unqualified chances for success, and the key lies in taking that one measly step forward.

Is it crazy to believe in the power of trying, of stepping into the unknown with enthusiasm? Perhaps. But maybe, just maybe, it’s the kind of craziness that propels us beyond our limits and into a realm of unexplored possibilities. As Buzz Lightyear aptly put it, it’s about embracing the infinite potential that lies beyond our comfort zones.

So, as I approach the threshold of change, I invite you to join me in this venture. Let’s be our own cheerleaders, reminding ourselves that trying is not just a chance at success but a testament to our resilience and courage. To infinity and beyond—because in the face of the unknown, taking that one small step forward might be the catalyst for a life transformed.

I’m learning that everything isn’t always profitable that comes out my mouth. I must not always say what’s in mind. It’s been a constant battle with my tongue and me. I’m having to chant in my head, “think before you speak”. It is truly a time to speak and a time not speak. But knowing when to speak or not speak is my dilemma. It came to my attention how I hurt many with my conversations. I wasn’t aware of it until I did a self-check. I was able to recall every conversation and in those conversations  there was a way out of speaking. I felt so convicted once I realized that it wasn’t profitable. In fact, I may have lost a  relationship or two.  Now, I’m left pondering the question, ” how can something so small be so lethal??”

I’ve learned that speaking is about timing and content. It’s a time to share it and it’s a time not to share. For instance, if my husband is having a problem with someone and I add to what he’s currently feeling. That’s not mature or correct. I should hear my husband out and try to come up with a solution; not add gossip to the conversation. One who makes someone more upset isn’t a wise person to take advice from.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s okay to speak. I failed miserably by not going to people during a misunderstanding. Misunderstandings can only be communicated so that each person can hear one another out. Texts and emails just won’t do. I made a mistake trying to resolve a matter that way. Epic fail on my part.

In essence,  when I speak I have a choice to speak something profitable. It’s a battle that I fight each day. But when I keep my mind on what’s above, I’m victorious each time I speak. Yes, I may speak but only what is right and what is true to the hearer.

Our marriage has been through money problems, affairs, job loss, in-laws and  you want the marriage? I know what I’m talking about. If you are not being abused you can have  marriage you want.

If I had to correlate marriage from year to year, I would use baseball. I hit that ball everyday but at times I strike out, hit foul balls and occasions smack some home runs out the park. The key is to play and practice daily and never give up.  Every anniversary is like winning the world series and we are approaching our 24th year of marriage. (Wow!)

I’m not a marriage guru. I only speak from experience. I’m learning marriage is more like a best friend relationship. A best friend that you share everything with and you feel comfortable sharing. It’s nothing you won’t hold back. It’s a true transparency thing. Communication has been the most difficult on my part. The past few years is when I noticed I had a communication problem. To be honest, I was going to walk away from my marriage.

I left my marriage momentarily a few years ago because I felt I wasn’t being heard. I believed that was the best way to get my husband’s attention. We reconciled by the grace of God but it wasn’t easy mending our relationship. I can remember it got worse before it got better. I questioned if I should’ve came back home and I had many sleepless nights.

The changing point for me is when I decided that I wanted my marriage. It didn’t matter if my hubby wasn’t doing everything I thought he should be doing. I decided to look at me and that’s when I saw myself clearly. I realized that I made big issues out of nothing. I realized that I did and said hurtful things to my husband. I saw that I was partly the blame for the turmoil in our marriage. So, now I’m thankful that our marriage was restored, and I can truly teach others about restoring a marriage.

You only need to muster up 20 seconds of courage to do anything. Everything I’ve ever done, I was petrified when doing it. I figured if it has to been done, I’ll have to do it trembling and shaking. I am a person who believed that others have great abilities. But I’m around to just encourage and exalt others behind closed doors.  It was much easier for me to go living life that way. I’ve battled with keeping my writings to myself. I thought everybody doesn’t need to know all that stuff about me. I just didn’t want to let people inside of my life.

But each day, I encounter many people who are hurt, confused, and ashamed. As I look at those people, it is as if a mirror is in front of me. I am them. They are me. We are each other.

Here’s where the 20 seconds count. Have you ever had an unction that you should say something to a woman at Target? So, you do and you find out that she just lost her husband and she doesn’t have any family.  But you by just taking that deep breath and saying that hello, you and she became friends for 20 seconds. I don’t know what my 20 seconds can offer someone, but I’m hopeful to impact whoever I come in contact with.

I encourage you to do what you always dreamed. Don’t worry about the money, your ability; or obstacles. Take a deep breath and use your 20 seconds to be courageous.