The Queen’s Quill

The mosaic of human existence is replete with tales of individuals whose lives were prematurely defined by the perceptions and forecasts of others. To surrender your pen is to relinquish the most sacred power you possess—the power to define your own destiny. Life is a personal quest for meaning, and it’s crucial to remember that “every vision isn’t of God.” Not all that glitters aligns with the divine purpose that is meant for you.

In the cacophonous symphony that is life, many voices clamor to etch their narrative onto the blank canvas of our existence. They come bearing the weight of expectations, the ink of tradition, and the brushstrokes of conventional wisdom. However, amid the tumultuous sea of opinions and guidance, it’s essential to remember one fundamental truth: you are the sole author of your story. Let no one script your life’s journey before your own pen touches the paper.

Visions, dreams, and ambitions can often be reflections of the world around us—shaped by culture, influenced by peers, and fashioned by societal standards. The whisperings of divine inspiration are sometimes lost in the clamor of human ambition. It is not every call that must be answered, not every door that must be walked through, and not every path that must be traveled. To decipher which vision bears the mark of a higher calling requires introspection, patience, and the courage to question what appears as a divine sign.

To write your story with authenticity, it’s imperative to plunge into the depths of self-discovery. Through self-reflection and meditation, one can sift through the myriad of voices and sights to uncover the kernel of truth that resonates with one’s own spirit. In this quest, guidance can be sought through prayer, contemplation, and seeking counsel from those who walk in wisdom. It’s a process that demands vigilance and the willingness to step away from the noise to listen to the quiet stirrings of the soul.

Life is not a static script but a dynamic and evolving tale. As you journey through the chapters, you will encounter plot twists and confront antagonists. There will be moments of triumph and pages of heartache. But through each line, remember that the ability to adapt and rewrite is always in your hands. Your story, inherently unique and divinely appointed, is not a reiteration of another’s narrative. It is a testament to your singular journey and the purpose you uncover amidst life’s endless possibilities.

In embracing the pen with which you write your life’s story, there’s a liberating realization: the future is not etched in stone but composed of the choices you make and the faith that guides you. As you embark on this narrative endeavor, let your tale be one of courage, a story that reflects not the will of the world, but the unmistakable voice of your own calling. 

In the unfolding of your personal story, may you find the wisdom to discern the whispers of the divine, while boldly declaring, with every stroke of your life’s quill, that you are, and forever will be, the true narrator of your destiny.

Have you ever felt overwhelmed by the sheer unpredictability of life? In a world that often prizes control and organization, the truth is that life is inherently not orderly. We make plans, set goals, and draw timelines, yet unexpected events can sweep in and scatter our carefully laid patterns like leaves in the wind. This realization can be daunting, leading many of us to experience anxiety, especially when we look at our current circumstances and mistakenly view them as permanent fixtures.

Anxiety has a way of distorting our perception, making us believe that the troubles we face today will stretch endlessly into the future. It whispers to us in moments of difficulty, insisting that the disruption and chaos we’re experiencing are here to stay. However, this mindset overlooks the dynamic nature of existence – the constant ebb and flow that characterizes our lives.

Life is not a neat narrative with a clear beginning, middle, and end; it’s more akin to a series of overlapping stories, each with its own twists and turns. We may start our day with a checklist, but by sunset, we’ve encountered a dozen variations that were never part of the initial plan. This isn’t a flaw in the design; it’s the very essence of living. When we understand that disorder is not an anomaly but a fundamental part of the human experience, we can begin to view it with less apprehension and more acceptance.

Embracing the chaotic nature of life doesn’t mean we must succumb to a sense of helplessness; it means recognizing that our control is limited and often shaped by forces beyond our reach. It’s about finding peace in the fact that while we can’t predict every twist and turn, we can adapt and grow with each new challenge.

Moreover, if we shift our perspective slightly, we may see that within chaos lies opportunity. The unexpected events that throw our plans into disarray often bring with them the seeds of new possibilities. They push us out of our comfort zones and compel us to innovate, learn new skills, and forge paths we may never have considered otherwise.

In times of anxiety, it’s essential to remember that change is the only constant in life. The circumstances that feel so confining today are likely to morph into something else tomorrow. Just as the seasons cycle through growth, bloom, decay, and rebirth, our lives too undergo similar transformations. Each phase, no matter how disordered it seems, contributes to our personal evolution.

We can learn to ride the waves of this chaos, much like a surfer who knows that the water beneath them is fickle and unstable but uses their skills to glide upon it nonetheless. By focusing less on creating an orderly life and more on developing resilience and flexibility, we arm ourselves with the tools to navigate life’s unpredictable waters.

So let us take comfort in the beautiful mess that is life, knowing that in the midst of disorder, we are evolving, growing, and learning. The anxiety we feel when looking at our current circumstances as though they are forever only needs a gentle reminder: this too shall pass. And what’s coming next? Well, that’s the adventure.

What inspired me to go on a safari in Tanzania?

On a quiet Sunday afternoon in late October, I was stretched out across my bed when my phone buzzed with a message from my friend Amber. She dropped a simple but life-changing question in our group chat with Carol: “Do y’all want to go on a safari in Africa in April?”

Without hesitation, I replied, “Count me in. I don’t know how I’m paying for it, but I want to go.”
Important side note: I didn’t even ask where in Africa we were going. All I knew were the dates and the cost—and that was enough for me.

When others who eventually joined the trip asked what convinced me, I told them the truth: I didn’t attend the original meeting with our guide, Safari Kay. There was no pitch, no PowerPoint, no persuasive strategy. Just a text. That was all I needed.

My decision was rooted in a few things:

• I had traveled with Amber before and trusted her travel style completely.
• She mentioned her friend John from Arizona would also be joining— a chance to meet a decades old friend she initially met in college.
• And most importantly, Africa had been on my vision board.
  

My desire to travel to Africa planted itself two years prior. I remember sitting at a dinner event hosted by an organization my job supported. The founders shared moving stories of their mission work in Africa. As they spoke, a whisper in my spirit said, “What if you went to Africa?”
Later that night, I told my mom. She shut the idea down quickly—“Only if you’re going with someone you know.”
Back then, I couldn’t think of anyone. Fast forward two years: the opportunity literally messaged me. And I said yes.

How I planned for the trip

Thankfully, Safari Kay handled everything. From the flights to accommodations, all I had to do was make my payments on time. Closer to our departure, she sent over forms and helpful information, and hosted a final pre-departure meeting to answer questions and go over logistics.

We were a group of 12 travelers, plus Kay. Most of the group lived in California. John and I were the only two flying in from other states—he from Arizona, me from Mississippi. I arrived in Los Angeles a day before the big flight.

Amber, John and I also began checking in with each other more often as departure neared—sharing links to travel items, packing tips and making sure we submitted requested information in a timely manner.

One of the most common questions I received was, “How many shots did you have to get?”
Answer: None. I visited my primary care doctor and got a prescription for malaria medication—easy.

Packing came with its own drama. We were given packing parameters due to safari vehicle space. I thought I packed light—until I got to Amber’s and saw her tiny, pink, perfectly packed bag. I was stunned. I asked her, “Sis… who in your family is military?” The way she compacted her wardrobe into that miniature suitcase was an art form.

Travel itinerary & first impressions

Our group flew from Los Angeles, had a brief layover in Amsterdam, and then continued on to Kilimanjaro International Airport in Tanzania. When I say brief…I mean we were running through the airport to get to our connecting flight. 

Amber, John, and I managed to sit together on the first leg of the trip. I won’t name names, but a small mishap prevented us from sitting together on the second flight. I found myself seated near a large family traveling for vacation. I was grateful for my noise-canceling playlist and a bottle of DreamWater.

Although I’ll pull the full itinerary from my email for future posts, I can say the total flight time was LONG—but the excitement helped.

The feeling as it all began

At first, the trip felt far off, like something happening to someone else. I created a Safari countdown timer on my phone. I didn’t tell many people until the new year had begun. My friends, who know I’m always up for a trip, started getting suspicious when I claimed I had “no travel plans.”

But as I boarded that first flight to Los Angeles, it hit me: “I’m really doing this. I’m flying to meet my friends, and we’re going to Africa.”

It wasn’t just a trip. It was a shift.

Pre-departure challenges

Nothing too wild, but I did get stuck in Nashville longer than I planned on my way to Los Angeles. Still, everything worked itself out—like it always seems to when you’re walking in alignment with your purpose.

Coming Up Next:
📍 A full breakdown of our safari adventure
💬 Stories from the people I met along the way

Let me know in the comments if you’ve ever had a “say yes now, figure it out later” moment—it might just lead you somewhere unforgettable. If you have questions drop those in the comments as well! 

— Queen’s Quill 🖋

It’s December 1st, 2023, and here we are, standing strong amid the challenges we’ve faced. Nearly another year has passed, and as we navigate the final 30 days, it feels like time has sprinted in like a red-eye flight, leaving us in a whirlwind of experiences, memories, and emotions—a relentless cycle that often leaves us feeling like we’ve barely caught our breath.

Reflecting on the past year, it’s evident that it has been a year of profound loss and unyielding weight on our hearts. It’s the year where the circle of life hits closer to home, where the conversations among friends drift from shared aspirations to shared grief as we confront the reality of parents departing this world. How did we arrive at this juncture so swiftly, feeling the weight of sorrow, anger, and a world brimming with violence reflected in the very fabric of our social connections?

Yes, it’s December 1st, 2023, but some days, it feels surreal, as if the date on the calendar couldn’t possibly align with the persisting turmoil and heartache. The passage of time seems to have compressed a multitude of experiences, blurring the lines between moments, weaving a tapestry of memories that feel both distant and achingly recent.

Like every year, this one has brought a carousel of highs, lows, and the in-between moments that often go unnoticed. Amidst the chaos, as I drove home this evening, I found myself whispering, “WOW, God!” It’s been His unwavering strength that has lifted me each day, the countless blessings of divine connections, and the solace of prayers offered for me when my own words faltered in the storm of my personal struggles.

What remains undeniable is our resilience as a people, our unyielding capacity to endure. Yet, beneath the resilience lies an unmistakable weariness. Take a moment to ponder the weight of your own journey through this year, acknowledging the battles fought and the emotional toll they’ve exacted. As we approach the year’s end, let’s honor our resilience, acknowledge our weariness, and find solace in the bonds that sustain us as we stand together.

Oh, to be young and carefree. Tonight, as I pumped gas, I watched four male teens horseplay in the parking lot. A few moments later an SUV filled with teenage girls pulled up. Based on the sheer amount of noise I figured they’re all good friends. This scene instantly snapped me back to my hometown. I thought about the things that “stressed” me out during those tender years. If you know me then you know most of that anxiety came from wanting to be successful academically. Ironically enough I was voted most likely to succeed. Now I had some other worries but I won’t jump into those at the moment.

 It’s been 17 years since I was a teen like them. I have fond memories of Friday nights in a small town. 

When I tell people where I’m from they often ask how many traffic lights do we have. I proudly tell people that we have several and we even have a Walmart Super-center .

These days I can easily pinpoint the last time I’ve been to Eufaula. It is very rare that I’m in Eufaula more than a few hours at most. As I drive around memories flood my mind. When I pull into my grandmother’s yard part of me still expects her to be standing at the back door saying “Hey baby”. I think about family friends who would stop by during my younger years. Depending on who it was, my grandmother would entertain them in the living room.

 I can remember sitting on the front porch and people honking their horns and yelling a quick greeting. There were some weekends you didn’t know who might pass by on the “Bluff”. This was long before we had the ability to send a quick text to see if anyone was at home.

 I can also recall sitting on the front porch shelling peas. One particular night we stayed a bit longer than usual to help my grandmother shell peas. When we arrived home, we found someone had broken into our house. 

One thing about a small town, everyone knows everyone. People didn’t mind running through your family tree in the middle of the local Piggly Wiggly. At some point you hear “yeah I know your xyz”. A bonus would be if they explained how they know your relative or a nice embarrassing story from your childhood. I will never forget being in Walmart and bumping into a family friend. He told the friend that was with me that I would always be talking to myself when he came to visit. So much so that he often asked my mom if I had company. Pause. Before you try to come for me, I was an only child. In actuality I was refining my teaching skills at a young age! LOL

I can also recall being so ready to escape the small-town life. I wanted to go away and reinvent myself. Sorry, there’s no story about how I made a 180 from classified as the “smart girl”. Now I’m classified as the “Sunday school teacher”. To this day people bring up how on Senior Day at school my name was continuously called for scholarships. People joked I never sat down during the ceremony.

I applied for schools all across the Southeast in hopes of creating this amazing new life. The one school I wanted to attend the most took their sweet time mailing my acceptance letter. I was first introduced to UT (University of Tennessee) through a math and science program. Funny enough these were my two worse subjects. I’m sure someone will read this and say “you didn’t have a bad subject”…. I wish that was the case. I spent two summers on the campus of UT Knoxville trying to enhance my math and science skills. I had no doubt where I wanted to attend college.

Well, I only spent a semester at UT. Most people don’t even remember that part of my story. Do you remember when I said I spent part of the summer in Knoxville? It’s important to note I had not experienced winter in Knoxville. When the little white stuff fell from the sky there was no magic email that class was cancelled. In the Deep South everything shuts down for a snow flake.

Literally as I packed up all my stuff a few days before leaving for school I thought about a winter coat momentarily. I continued to pack. Although I was only there for a semester I met some amazing people and still keep in touch with one of my dear friends I met during orientation. The fall semester I spent at UT was basically a “free” semester. Okay, okay….free is far from reality. In reality I could not afford to remain at UT. Despite having numerous scholarships out of state tuition was no joke. I am a first generation college student so there were no talks about out of state tuition. At the end of the semester I looked at the cost of the upcoming semester. I knew there was no way I could afford it.

 I remember talking to my best friend who encouraged me to join her at Alabama. I didn’t think twice; I applied and was accepted. I also remember feeling defeated initially when I realized I needed to transfer. One Sunday on the way back to school we stopped off of HWY 165 so I could see my aunt before I left. She slipped me a small piece of paper with the Bible verse Proverbs 3:5-6. Instantly this became my favorite verse. There have been many other pivotal moments in life where this same scripture has helped me. 

Let me hop off of memory lane. I am proud that I was raised in a small town. A small town where I was first introduced to the concept of a village or community. I had the privilege to know so many loving and kind people who rooted for my growth, success, and happiness. Some of those people are still rooting for me.

Ok, one more quick story. One evening as I was walking on campus to teach my evening course I received a text message. Long story short, it was my third grade teacher. She had just seen me on the local news and reached out to say she was proud of me. The message quickly uplifted my spirits. She was an instrumental member of my village.

While I’ve been skipping down memory lane this scripture dropped in my spirit: Zechariah 4:10: “Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin”. I know typically this scripture focuses on small beginnings pertaining to tasks. However, as I think about this scripture I think about my humble beginnings in the small town of Eufaula, Alabama. A mighty work started not only in me but for many other people as well. As a full-grown adult with a little life experience under my belt I think about what statistics would say about someone like me from a small town in southeast Alabama. I am blessed to say I beat some of the very statistics that I stand before college students to discuss now.

Every once in a while, you need to look back to see how far God has brought you. It also encourages you to remember God has always been faithful.

What small beginnings do you need to reflect on in this moment?

I said “yes”! Please continue reading. This is not an engagement announcement. My apologies for getting you excited. I know some of you have planned my engagement, wedding…..Hold on to those plans just like I’ve asked God to hold onto my husband for a little while longer. LOL (I’m not really ready as I claim to be). More about that later…maybe.

So I’ve been talking about starting a blog for quite some time now. First it started with a small silent thought. Finally, I started to share with some of my close friends. Close friends who said “oh yeah, I’m holding you accountable”. Meanwhile I continued to talk myself out of starting it. I said I couldn’t think of a catchy name. Then I questioned what I would be willing to share through my blog. I wondered if anyone would read it; would it make a difference to anyone. 

Let me recap two quick moments that happened today.

As I worked, I listened to Pastor Jerry Flowers Therapy Thursdays. The next video that was waiting to load for me was “ I Keep Thinking the Worst”. Please check him out. I promise he got someone recording my daily movements. Per usual, he tapped dance all over my poor little toes. 

He poses the question of “what could you do without thinking of the worst case scenario”. As a person who is challenged by anxiety, I am no stranger to worst case scenario. I have a scenario for every letter of the alphabet. These scenarios run commercial free in my mind daily. He mentioned maybe you’re waiting to write the book or simply being obedient to God. 

I automatically started shaking my head. Like “nope…not again”. This is not the first time being an author has come up in some way. It’s funny that as a child I would pretend that I was a best selling author. I’ve always enjoyed writing and missed when life became too hectic to spend quality time writing.

It really is Therapy Thursday….I had a session with my therapist. Last weekend I spent time reading through some of my old journals. I started a quick list to see if there were any common themes that came up over time. I had a journal from as old as 2009 and as recent as 2021. I didn’t get a chance to finish reviewing all my journals. So my therapist asked me what I planned to do differently since I had successfully identified some cycles. Of course I answered I don’t know. Which she politely reminded me was not an acceptable answer in our sessions. I most definitely rolled my eyes. We have that type of relationship at this point. I told her about how last night I posed a question to myself: what would it be like if I lived differently. Throughout the day answers to this question poured onto my notebook. Somewhere in the course of our session I connected what we were discussing to the Therapy Thursday session I listened to. My therapist starts laughing and rocking. When this happens, she’s excited. Often times I’m not, lol. She said you’ve been talking about you want to hear from God. How many different signs will He have to give you before you say yes? She went on to say she could think of several signs from the past couple of weeks.

I responded as honestly as possible. I told her we knew my lack of listening and obedience was at the core of many things. She pressed and asked what I was afraid of. She reassured me that many successful people who are well known for their various reasons were doubtful starting out as well. We wrapped session with the lingering question of when I will say yes.

It’s funny that I’ve thought about the day I would say yes. I know that as a single woman I’m not the only one who has daydreamed about the moment the one asks to spend the rest of His life with me. Let’s keep it really honest….I’ve thought about it too many times to count. 

Yet, here I am not willing to give God my yes. I just keep telling God to find someone else or I’m not ready. I never thought about how important my yes to God would be. I’ve been given NUMEROUS signs and I’m still like “ummmmm….I think that assignment is for someone else”. One thing about God: He’s patient. He’s even reminded me that His time is not like my time and He doesn’t mind waiting. 

I finally said “yes”. As I drove across the city I quietly said “yes”. I have no idea where my yes will lead. I know He has a plan. This may be the only post on my blog or it might be one of hundreds. I can only tell you that I intend to be honest with several dashes of vulnerability. Believe it or not, the planner in me is scared to even promise you when you can expect another post. One of the reasons I initially said no was because I knew it wouldn’t be perfect. I couldn’t be out here in the grammar streets with run on sentences and missing punctuation. That’s not cute…especially not with the way I critique people’s writing. I don’t have an official editor…..yet! I ask that if you have comments you will post them from a loving and positive place.

Allow me to officially introduce you to the Queen’s Quill. 

The Queen’s Quill…..

This year I have been leaning into recognizing myself as a QUEEN. If you happen to see a picture of me wearing a crown you’ll know why… 

Well this Queen happens to have her own pen.

35 years and some change ago I was named after my great grandmother Ms. Equiller Preston. During one of my late night thought sessions I was reminded that the very base of my name is “quill” which is a writing tool.

God gets the glory! What is God asking you to say “yes” to? Let’s see where my yes leads to….

He is the ultimate author!