There once was a beautiful friendship that God allowed me to enter. It was a friendship of God’s divine plan, a friendship that now I see God had his hand in, like interwoven branches connected to a vine. The conversation went like this “I think you are emotionally immature, why are you like this? Why are you so insecure?” Those were the words that were stated to me, and I remember not having a real response because, for one, I believed I wasn’t emotionally immature and two I thought I’d hidden the fact that I was insecure very well. I remember not agreeing and feeling defensive not wanting to be in the friendship any longer. I wrote about the encounter in my journal, and I prayed, yes prayed as well as cried and I had such a huge weight of conviction on me. I pushed through the emotional part of it, so I thought and continued the friendship, but then one day I became so frustrated with the unknown of where the friendship was heading, I got so overwhelmed in the process that I quickly lost sight of the promise, and I ended the friendship. This was the beginning of the birthing pains. I remember hearing a particular sermon about love; you know that one about loving your neighbor as you love yourself…yeah, that one, and so much conviction came upon me. As I begin to read my bible more, and I would listen to sermons all throughout the week, every time I would feel so much conviction. I remember calling and texting my friend begging for forgiveness but no answer no response. I would cry silently on the inside asking God why didn’t I understand? I begin to seek God so much, not even recognizing what was going on. The separation of a beautiful friendship was all in God’s plan to humble me to take me through the process of growth. God had to purge me from my ways I had to die to myself and learn to operate in the fruit of the spirit. I couldn’t see the Godly characteristics that my friend possessed because I wanted things to go my way or the way I thought they should go. I couldn’t see that it was beautiful because I was being led by my flesh, not of my spirit. The day I yield to the process of my growth it was the day destiny birth. It was the day that I came to realize that yes I fell short, I quit, and I lost hope, but it was also a day that when I felt weak and defeated God became my strength. I begin to put on a new perspective a Godly perspective, one full of humility which led to the gift. What is this gift? The birth of Letters to our Father’s.