Throughout my life, I've heard people talk about the frustration of reaching a certain point only to be met with an invisible barrier that seemingly stops them in their tracks. A wall you didn't see coming. A resistance you can't quite explain.
I know that barrier well. I've met it more times than I care to count.
One example I rarely talk about is my educational journey. When I first began my associate's degree, I was met with health issues, marital challenges, and family struggles. The weight of it all felt relentless. Still, I pressed on and earned my Associate of Arts.
From there, I pursued my bachelor's degree, first in vocal performance, then later shifting gears to Community Studies and Civic Engagement (the long way to say Nonprofit Management). But not without almost quitting altogether.
Yes, you read that right.
I was only weeks away from applying for graduation when everything in my life began to unravel.
I was exhausted—spiritually, physically, mentally. I told several professors that I planned to quit because I simply had nothing left to give.
At the same time, my home was slipping into foreclosure. I felt exposed. Ashamed. Like a fraud who had somehow convinced everyone else I was holding it together.
But clearly, God had other plans.
Some of the most unsuspecting professors came alongside me. They sat with me. They listened. They didn't rush to fix anything. They simply stayed. And in their staying, they helped me find my footing again.
Together, we created a plan to finish strong when I no longer believed I could. I applied for incompletes in a few classes. I was still allowed to walk the stage during the Spring of 2008, but my degree would not be released until every requirement was fulfilled by the final deadline.
And I did it.
I finished.
I'm writing about this now because the world feels like it's on fire — and so does my own life. Once again, just as I am preparing to elevate, I'm being met with obstacle after obstacle. Challenge after challenge. That familiar resistance. That invisible barrier.
This brings me back to The Dream Giver by Dr. Bruce Wilkinson, a book I reread nearly every year. Each time, it reveals something new. It reminds me of how Ordinary was called to leave what was familiar. How family and friends tried to convince him to turn back. How giants rose up to stop him. And the moment that always stands out most to me is when Ordinary encounters the invisible wall of fear.
It wasn't something outside of him. It was within him. The barrier wasn't meant to destroy him — it was meant to be confronted. To be pushed through. To stretch him beyond comfort and into calling.
If I could offer a word of encouragement to my future self, or to anyone reading this, it would be this:
You have overcome invisible barriers before.
You did not break under the weight of the unknown. You rose. You healed. You grew stronger and wiser. What did you learn then that carried you to where you are now?
And if you must look back, do so only to remember how far you've come, not to return to old patterns, old thoughts, old people, or old places.
You are more than a conqueror.
You have a proven track record of doing hard things and of pressing forward when quitting felt easier.
So go ahead; do it again.
God is with you.
Faithfully,
Stacie J.
