A few weeks ago, I attended a networking event, which was a gathering of women from all over the DC-Maryland-Virginia Area. For anyone who has attended an event as such, you understand that the first portion of the event is reserved for “making friends”. During the first 15 minutes, I felt a pair of eyes on me. You know, that feeling when you feel like “Ok, I’m being stalked?! Through the crowded sea of women I couldn’t identify where that feeling was coming from. In true Tasha form, I began to pray. Not out loud, clapping my hands, binding and loosing, shifting, removing and replacing but simply in language that is a private conversation between God and I. I felt a light tap on my shoulder and I turned around to be greeted by a hand in front my face. I smiled, hesitated, switch my cup to my left hand, returned the favor and gave a firm handshake that was meant to say “Yo, what’s up. You good, you come in peace?” The lady immediately read my name tag, asked for a business card and began the integration of who I was, what did I do for living, how long I’ve being doing etc. Just when I was about to excuse myself, tell her how great it was to meet her, keep in touch, the standard “It’s time for me to move on” She abruptly said “You don’t belong here”…”Huh?”. What do you say that? I gave her a moment to collect her thoughts because she was going to have to do better than that. I think the raise of my eyebrow, prompted her to go on. “You just don’t seem to fit in…not in a bad way. I don’t know…it’s just a thought anyway”. Yes, that was my queue to chuck the deuces because “NO, she didn’t”. On the drive home, I pondered over the random lady’s comment. But she was right. I didn’t belong here. Truth be told, I’ve never handle rejection very well but I was determined to take a negative and turn it into a positive. In mind, I went men and woman in the bible who were in places they just simply didn’t belong. Moses, who had a temper issue (I can totally relate) sure did not fit in with his adopted royal Egyptian family, was promptly called out and killed a man because of it! I’m sure Ms. Esther, during her preparation phase, didn’t fit with the other hopeful contestants. I’m sure Paul, who was once a murder of the Jews didn’t fit in with his new acquired religious-aint-never-done-nothing-wrong-but-serve-the-Lord-friends. I get it. I truly did. Maybe this God’s way of saying to me “Press onward and upward”. I always tell myself, I’m not where I’m supposed to be but thank God, I’m not where I use to be. Now, the decision is mine to make: Stay in this place, or move to the place where I’m supposed to be? I now understood what the woman with the Alabaster box felt when she walked into that room of well-groomed and polished religious folk. They were right, she didn’t belong there. I’m going to follow her cue, close my eyes, kneel at His feet and pour my life’s worth at his feet. I’m sure everyone was like “Uhhh! Gross! She’s ho! Jesus don’t you know?!” But guess what happened in the life of that woman? Her name has been recorded in the volume of the books not because she did anything great but because found where she belonged, at his feet, in the midst of a sea of people.