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The power of a door


Every time I go to my hometown, Bridgeport,CT, I get this anxious feeling. It doesn’t matter if it’s a good reason to be there or a bad reason, the feeling never changes.


Today, I went to Bridgeport to support my sis, Camille Robinson as she was the keynote speaker at an event, she did an awesome job by the way. 👏🏽😘


As I drove in town that anxious feeling began to familiarize itself with my spirit. As I began to process the feeling, it began to feel more like a feeling you feel when you have left something somewhere. You get flustered, and aggravated looking for it. As I began looking for a parking space there wasn’t one close to the building. After driving around for a few minutes, I finally turned down a side street and found a spot. After getting myself together, I exited the car and began walking to the building. As I looked back to press the alarm on my car I noticed where I was parked. I was parked right in front of where the hospital I was born in once stood, Park City Hospital.


God began to give me the revelation. This was the hospital I lived in for a few months after initially being removed from my birth mother. This is where I was placed after being found so abused I was barely recognizable. Although I eventually left, a piece of me remained there. So many times God is calling us back to the beginning. We are trying to quickly get to the end, but there is work to do at the beginning. That is what Bridgeport signifies to me, the work that I have not completed. The people who I have not forgiven. The memories I refuse to acknowledge. The feeling of having left something there....me.


It’s time to go back home and finish what the Devil started. Take back everything he stole. Starting with the lives connected to me. Your greatest pain ends at the beginning.

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