Divine Timing: That 'Man' is Always Right on Time!

Dear Diary,

I’ve always believed in Him, but never gave It a second thought about believing in Him—if that makes sense. With a father who was an Israelite Bishop and a mother who wasn’t exactly religious, I felt trapped somewhere between being forced and not giving AF.

I’ve always had a strong resistance to anyone telling me what I had to do. So, when weekends meant being dragged to the Israelite school, with my father shoving it down our throats, I wanted absolutely NO PARTS.

But, I believed.

I talked to God only when I struggled. I didn’t even bless my food, chile! Sh*t, I picked up Tarot cards before I ever picked up a Bible.

But, I believed.

Years ago, a friend invited me to a Christian church. I was so eager to tell my father, thinking I’d finally make him proud (thats another story for another time). And clearly I didn’t know that Israelites and Christians were beefing. But when I told him, he just “skinned up his face” (if you’re West Indian, you know). He asked why I didn’t go to his church instead. I was confused. Sir Is this not what you were asking me to do? I stopped going. It wasn’t my time yet.

But, I believed.

Fast forward to Summer 24'...I had a HARLEM GIRL weekend! I ate! I drank! I had an edible! I had BIG FUN! Two days later, my body was like, Ma’am, let’s take you to the ER. I went In with stomach pains, and left five days late with someone else's blood. Chileeee I had to get a blood transfusion.

 I’ve always had fibroids but I Ignored them- no pain, but heavy periods, bought a bag of ice every couple of days (to the point the girl in supermarket would ask “you not getting ice today- like ma’am mind your business! Lol) but who was gon tell me that I barely had any blood in my body?!

I went into the ER because my stomach was hurting! I left with SOMEONE ELSES BLOOD!

Months later, I had an open myomectomy to remove almost 15 pounds of fibroids. (One of my friends said they looked like oxtails, West Indians gon’ West Indian, lol.) My mom showed up. My dad showed up. My brother and my friends showed up.

But most importantly, GOD SHOWED UP! He put me in that hospital for a reason. Sometimes, He’ll force you to do the things you don’t want to. The timing might feel wrong to you, but He’s always on time.

This year, He showed me what love looks like. He taught me to care for my body- mentally, physically, emotionally. This year, I was scared but also renewed. This year, I hated my body but started to love it again-in every form, at every weight, and with every scar.

Signed,

That Girl Kish