As I logged out of my bank account, tears welled in my eyes. I had no idea how I had miscalculated yet again. This was not the day to be broke. I had exactly one hour and thirty minutes to get to this speaking engagement and taking a taxi was out of the question.
I sat in the bed pondering my dilemma. If I hadn't spent 30 minutes between Twitter and Facebook, then maybe I would’ve had enough time to find another way, but that was not the case. Now I was in a tight bind and I didn’t see a good way out. I knew that I couldn’t spend half of all the money I had on a taxi, but I was definitely running late. The rain hitting against my window pane only seemed to compound my dilemma. It felt as if nature was beating me with every drop. At that moment, reality set in. My finances were as murky as the rain on my window plane. “Things have got get better,” I mumbled.
Yes, I had been blindsided by my publisher in every way and it made a bad situation worse. Almost two years prior to the book deal I had made significant life style changes. And during the early months of the book deal, I took the changes even further. I downsized my life in every aspect: from my living space to the things that I owned. I had a house sale that lasted for months. In therapy, I had come to terms with my spending issue and now I was proactive and feeling good about the financial decisions I was making. I had a well laid plain that would keep me afloat for at least a year. By then, I would be on tour with my book and making money. But now, things had changed.
Swallowing my pride that morning was like swallowing a teaspoon of castor oil with Grandmama holding the spoon. There is no way out. So I pushed forward, dressed and made my way to Chicago public transportation. By the time I made it to the station I didn't have a curl on my head. I sat on the train thinking about it all and became overwhelmed and started to cry. I tried to shake it off but the tears kept coming. I knew I had to pull it together but the harder I tried, the harder I cried. No curls, now no makeup. What a mess, sitting on the train with tears streaming down.
As I sat there wallowing in self-pity, a young African-American male boarded the train. He was dressed in an overcoat, baggy jeans, dark shades, a do-rag and a cap. As he made his way toward me I pulled my Chanel handbag a little tighter. But soon, I learned that he was only interested in my soul. He started walking the aisle and talking about how God delivered him from bondage. My tears dried as I listened to him PREACH. His words were powerful. “This isn't what I would be doing. My way is the wrong way,” he sang out. No sooner than he had my full attention, he was off the train. The last thing I heard him say as he exited, hit me like a ton of bricks. “It’s what God would have me to do.”
As the train started again, I looked over to the other car and there he was. PREACHING!!! I instantly, shook off the leftovers of my pride. If he could do God’s work, anyway he can, then so could I.
Note: Photo with one of my Twitter Followers Chris Vaughn, who made his way to hear me speak in the rain, of course with his camera. LOL..