God Came Through®

In 2012, I vividly remember pacing back and forth on the stiff, jointed wood floor of my college bedroom for nights on end. As graduation drew closer, this became more of a habit, driven by the uncertainty of what the future would hold for me. I would petition God in prayer and supplication: “God, just show me my path, and I promise never to deviate from it.” I repeated those two lines over and over, each time with more conviction than the last, in hopes of a revelation.

I was asking God to reveal my path, not realizing I was already walking it. He could not show me what I refused to see. Looking back, I realize my vision was clouded by the distractions of the world, and perhaps by looking too closely at other people’s paths. Yet, even then, He was ordering my steps. My dream was to be a world-renowned spoken word artist, and my greatest aspiration was to ensure that the words I wrote would spill over the walls they were written within.

Years later, a series of cataclysmic events led me to write a quote in my soft-covered, earth-toned journal, which had a world map spanning its covers. In it, I wrote the words: “I CAME UP. GOD CAME THROUGH.” After writing it, I walked away. But something compelled me to return, pick up my pen, and strike through the words “I CAME UP.” Unbeknownst to me, that strikeout symbolized the insufficiency of self-reliance to reach “success” or “control” over my life. On the contrary, it was through faith and the grace of God, who always comes through, that sustains me.

Some time later, I shared that quote on Instagram. At some point, someone removed my name and claimed it as their own. It was reposted countless times, reaching millions of people.

I didn't like that my name was stripped from the quote, that someone else received the credit. Now, I see with clarity. The two-line testimony I first wrote in my earth-toned journal, covered by the world, is exactly what I prayed for years earlier. All the pacing back and forth in my bedroom had come to pass. The words I wrote did indeed spill beyond the walls they were written in.