The Lord is My Shepherd but I Still Want to Fight

I Don’t Know What I Believe Anymore, But I Know I Need Peace.

Some days I feel like I’m glitching.
Like my body is logged in, but my soul is just watching from a distance, whispering, “Omo, you sure you want to be here today?”

I used to have answers.
Now I just have 2am thoughts, 2% battery, and a list of affirmations I don’t believe in anymore.

I light candles I don’t pray over.
I read quotes I don’t even understand.
I say things like “I’m manifesting peace” when what I really mean is: I don’t know where else to go.

I’m tired of trying to heal in public.
Tired of pretending I’m not constantly renegotiating who I am and what I deserve.
Tired of spiritual rebrands that don’t reach my bloodstream.

Because how do you find God.

when your brain is noisy
your heart is tired
and every ‘divine timing’ starts to feel like spiritual gaslighting?

People keep saying “Trust the process”
but what if the process is tired too?
What if even God is like, “Omo, I dey come. Hold small.”

I don’t want to start from scratch.
I just want peace.
Real peace.
The type you feel in your spine.
The kind that doesn’t require a mood board or a testimony.

I want to feel like I’m not behind.
Like I’m not wasting my 20s trying to outrun my childhood.
Like I can breathe without explaining why I’m still stuck.

Because maybe I don’t need more faith.
Maybe I just need rest.
Maybe I need one day where my heart doesn’t feel like a battlefield,
and I’m not having to pretend I’m spiritually “growing”
when I’m just surviving.

No sermon today.
No quotes.
No tidy bow.

Just this:

I’m learning how to exist in my own body again.
And even though I don’t have it all figured out,
even though I still flinch when I hear “trust the universe,”
I know I want something soft.
Something still.
Something that doesn’t make me beg to feel whole.

If that’s not holy,
I don’t know what is.

📍Filed under: Holy Ghost Who Dis?

Crackko’s for anyone who’s ever whispered “God abeg” and meant it in three different ways.
We get the chaos. We sanctify the spiral. And somehow, we laugh through it too.