Those were the words that I screamed at my 16 year old niece after her latest act of disobedience. Her grandmother, my mother, had asked her several times to do her chores and she remained in bed, intent on being defiant and delusional about her willful disobedience. Yet in that moment, I was frustrated… and I sinned in my anger.

I distinctly remember each time in the last 2.5 years that I have yelled at another person.

Once was in November 2020 when my sister (the mother of the aforementioned niece) was in town visiting. I felt like she was lying to me and my mother about something and I got into a major argument with her over the phone.

The next time was December 23, 2021. I had just finished a photo session in Baltimore and decided to drive to my then boyfriend’s house to pick up some food that he had made for my mother. I had to pee so I went up the stairs to the bathroom and saw a woman in his bed. I don’t know if she was naked or not, but she was bundled up in his bed, looking a little too comfortable for my liking. I went off on him. I yelled so loudly that I’m sure I was heard back in Baltimore.

I remember those moments because yelling at people disgusts me. Yelling is a part of my past; it’s who I used to be.

Back in the day I was vicious with my tongue. I spoke cruelly and spewed profanity like carbon dioxide leaving my body. I always joked with people that I never had to be in a fist fight because my bark was far worse than my bite. I didn’t care who I hurt back then; it was all about asserting my dominance and hurting them before they hurt me.

But now… now inflicting pain with my words and actions kills a piece of me with each delivery.

I am absolutely repulsed by my behavior but I sat in the weight of my sin for far too long…


Even though I screamed those words at someone else, it seemed as though the words reverberated back towards me.

It seemed like I was yelling at some deep part of me, demanding that I get up from the dark places that have been like home for far too long. I was urging the inner parts of me to get up from those horrible places of despair and move into the liberty that God had already proclaimed for me. I was begging myself to get up from those fearful situations that all too often sat me down in a place of anxiety and doubt.

“GET UP!” was my heart’s cry and a siren call all at the same time. They were the words that I needed to hear and the words that I needed to tell myself so that I could move past this place.

Beloved, I have never pretended to be perfect or claimed that I had the answer to every problem that existed. However, one of the amazing things about God’s grace is that He offers another chance. Not a second chance or a third chance, but another chance. Whatever you need to “GET UP!” from, do it with God at your side.

Be blessed.

2 Replies to “GET UP!”

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