In September 2019, I cry my eyes out as I look at the letter. This is my notification of whether I have passed my Praxis II Exam. This exam decides if I can receive my teacher certification in South Carolina. My goal is to be an elementary school teacher. I look down at the letter again to see the words “Not Passed.” I missed the passing score by one point. Tears roll down my face as I reflect on the time gone by. I reflect on the ten years trying to pass this test and failing it ten times. I recall my father wanting me to pass this exam also. I remember the pressure to follow in his footsteps and become a teacher. None of these things matter to me at this point.
My husband is sitting right beside me on a green couch in our townhouse apartment. He tries to encourage me that everything will be fine and things will work out, but I reject his gestures and express my frustrations. I share how I have no clue what I will do next in my life. I pace around the living room a few times before finally sitting back down on the couch. Once I sit down, I hear a calm, still voice. I’ve heard this voice before in the most challenging times of my life’s journey. I know I hear God. My moment with God forces me to finally take a leap of faith.
God tells me, “Traci, I have already given you a gift,” and I immediately feel peace in my soul, my heart, and my mind. I do have a gift. My love for this gift has been evident since the age of five. I am a writer. From this very moment, I feel a turn start to take place inside me. My faith is overflowing. Internally, I make the decision to pursue writing instead of teaching.
I have no idea how far my writing will go, but with my faith on overdrive, I trust God. I begin the process of releasing my faith to others close to me. I share my decision with my husband first, and he is supportive of it. However, my father has different views.
At first, I hesitate to call my father and tell him everything. I contemplate how he will react and how this will affect our relationship. I am a daddy’s girl. I value how I make my father feel. I try my best to do things he can be proud of, and I do not want to ruin his expectations of me. Still, my husband continues encouraging me. He reassures me my father will understand.
I will never forget the response my father gave me after I tell him I am letting teaching go. He tries convincing me to take the exam again—for him, but I do not budge. After he sees that he is not going to change my mind, he tells me he has nothing left to say to me. Of course, I am heartbroken. My emotions of failing the exam attempt to resurface. I question whether I should work on becoming a writer. God has to step in again and talk to me. God says, “Your dad will come around. Don’t worry about it.” I hold onto God’s words and trust His plan even though the future looks unclear and definitely unknown. Since then, my dad has come around.
What does it mean to really trust someone? I thought I knew until failure forced me to step out on faith. Faith builds my trust in the Lord. If I can be honest, failure pushes me to have greater faith. My favorite scripture is Proverbs 3:5-6 (King James Version) which says:
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy path.
It took time for me to accept not having the answers and to realize I needed faith to trust God. I did not initially understand why I experienced failure, but one moment changed my life beyond my imagination!
I recognize what it means to take a leap of faith without knowing what the end will be. Faith turned me away from my past pains and failures. I learned to trust God fully by focusing and leaning on my faith. My life has never been the same since my divine intervention from God. Now, I am a spoken word artist whose writing is all over the world. I still trust in God with my writing. I continue to put my faith to work. Failing the exam gave me the push to finally pursue my writing. There is no doubt in my mind God is directing my path.Leave a Comment