I am Rahab…The Perfect Plan
by Charlie
(Excerpt from book 3)

If you’re not careful, time has a way of vanishing your existence. Who you were becomes a vague memory. Rahab wasn’t a victim of circumstance. Wanting a taste of the Land of Milk and Honey, she naively allowed Jeremy to mold her, to steal her identity and contaminate her dreams with his own.

Once upon a time, she thought dancing was all she wanted. It wasn’t. It’s the freedom that dance allows that she craves. Hungry for security and fame, she foolishly worked for Jeremy for six years believing that he held her dreams in his hand, but she was the answer to his triumph.

Growing up, I never desired to be married. I can remember being 12 years old sitting outside on my front stoop in Brooklyn, saying, “when I get older it’s going to be just my kids and me; to which the other melanated princesses replied in sync “yeah.” In retrospect, I realized now that we were all children of single mothers who made their jobs to care for us seem easy. These women were beautiful, strong, hardworking, and God-fearing, although they could set you straight at a dime’s drop. After all, the conversations we heard them have about the headaches men bring, while we were in the next room playing, and low key eavesdropping; who needed a man? Did I even want children?

Years later, love hit hard. Before I knew it, I was happily married with kids. Yes, I even had a big wedding and enjoyed every minute of it. My simplistic juvenile thoughts about not needing a man, and living a carefree life centered solely on me were put to bed by the God-given need for love, the kind only a man could give.

I had the perfect plan; I was going to be the most dedicated wife and mother anyone had ever seen. However, my plan wasn’t perfect; I married for love and happiness, and because of my faith and belief in God’s order. Yet, I failed to realize that taking care of my family and remaining true to myself was not mutually exclusive. Being too reliable, I made many mistakes along the way, by being much too reliable, so much so that there were times that my family would pass tasks on me that they could’ve done themselves. It wasn’t really until the Coronavirus that I had to sit down and rediscover the things I love like coloring, writing, listening to oldies on the deck, and I even challenged myself to start jogging. In addition, I began to think about my current job. I had given the benefit of the doubt to so many discreet acts of systematic racism because my job helps support my family, actions I will no longer be quiet about when I return to work. Time got away from me, throwing myself into my family, along with this idea of perfection. I forgot that I was able to give and receive love so freely when I got married because I loved on me, that my creativity and the ability to say “no” when I was tired or give tough love to my kids when it hurt both of us, was not only ok but healthy. However, I must remind myself that I don’t’ have to be perfect, that once I pray about a situation, I should actually be still and purposely wait on God to move because…I am Rahab, too.