When You Believe, Part Two - By Liimu

I couldn't help but follow up Kelly's lovely post from a couple days ago with my own serenade to the beautiful ladies of Beyond the Stuff (and Bruce) and all our readers/followers. I love you all, and can't wait to bear witness to the miracles you manifest.

When You Believe, Part Two

Good Stuff - By Liimu

This past weekend, I spent with four of the most incredible women I have ever met. The Beyond the Stuff gals! Although we were together to solidify the foundation of a business we are jointly growing, what we achieved was beyond our wildest dreams - we developed a friendship with each other, a bond formed out of our shared hope that we might inspire others to become their best selves through our shared experience and ability to overcome hardship.

It was incredible. As I was driving to the airport, I was overcome with gratitude for where God has brought me in just under 2 years. Two years ago, I was trapped in a dead-end job, unable to sleep for the horrible nightmares that used to plague me when I closed my eyes, skin plagued with acne, never feeling like I was able to give enough to my family, to myself, to the world. Unsure of what my purpose was in life, other than to stay sober.

Over the past 18 months, I have received message after message from the Universe that I have a special gift to share with the world - my voice. Through singing, writing, speaking - I can carry the message that God can transform fear into faith, love and hope. That anyone can have a life worth living, a life of joy and freedom.

So there I was, driving up Route 17 and all of a sudden, tears of joy started falling down my cheeks and I was sobbing and laughing, wiping my eyes furiously so I wouldn't crash! I was singing Journey's "Faithfully" at the top of my lungs, realizing that I would be forever faithful to God, no matter what.

I don't consider myself to be a particularly religious person. In fact yesterday, I was talking to a pastor of a local church, telling him about the gospel CD I intend to record this year, about the book I fully expect will get published and will encourage others to live their lives out loud, about our upcoming talk show and how we hope to uplift people who are struggling more than they ever have in their lives in these uncertain times. All he kept asking me was, "What church do you belong to? What church do you belong to?" Well, I don't belong to a church. But I pray every day, all day. And I am part of a spiritual fellowship, through which I have been doing service to my community for years. I am one of the most faithful, devoted, God-centered people I know, but no, I don't belong to a church.

I belong to God.

Stuff happens...and usually for a reason!

Have you ever had the feeling, in the midst of getting some really bad news, that it's for the best? I don't mean that fake smile you give as the tears stream down your face, keeping a stiff upper lip as you say bravely, "No, no, it's fine...I'm sure something better will come along." I mean when you really know that something better is coming...know it so definitively that you aren't even upset by the devastating situation you find yourself in.


That's how I felt last week when I found out that my client wasn't renewing my contract next year. Is that strange? Is that crazy? It's not the first time it's happened.


Ten years ago, I was stunned when the leader of my band, the first band I'd ever been in, the only band I'd ever been in, the band that brought me to my future husband, casually announced he wouldn't be needing me anymore. Not only did this mean I wouldn't be singing anymore, it meant I wouldn't be spending time with my main squeeze - at shows, at rehearsals. N

ot to mention the fact that my ego was bruised beyond recognition (as it is now, I suppose). Even still, I so clearly remember resting my head against my husband's solid chest, my tears soaking a through the front of his flannel button-down, peering up at him through the tears and saying, "The thing that's so strange is that even though I'm crying, even though I'm so sad about this, I know something better is coming along."

A few months later, I was back in the band, subbing in for one of the singers who hadn't shown up. A few months after that, I was their only singer, singing four sets a night, and that same bandleader was calling me "A.I.," for Allen Iverson, the then Philadelphia basketball player known for making 50-plus points in a game, the one the team couldn't do without. A few months after that, when the bandleader quit dramatically, the band looked to me to lead them. And I did. Though I knew something great was in store, what I didn't know that cold winter night as I was sobbing on my future husband's shoulder, was that the same band from which I had been summarily dismissed would one day be mine to lead.


I have that same feeling now. That the Universe is opening up space in my life for something. Something phenomenal. Something beyond my wildest dreams. So, am I scared that I don't know what that is? Sure, I am. Am I scared that I don't have guaranteed income beyond next March? Darn skippy. But you know what? I'm excited, too. Because the Universe has never, EVER let me down before.