Three- Breath Prayers

There is a quiet tension I have been holding in this season.

On one hand, I know what I have done.
I know the rooms I have led.
I know the communities I have supported.
I know the years of experience, the degrees earned, the leaders coached, the systems shifted, and the restorative spaces built.

And yet…

There are still moments when I look at what others are building and hear a quiet voice whisper:

You cannot do that.
You are not qualified enough.
Who would want this?
Who would buy this?
Who are you to build something of your own?

I have come to realize that sometimes imposter syndrome is not simply about competence. Sometimes it is grief. Sometimes it is transition. Sometimes it is exhaustion after carrying responsibility for so long inside systems and organizations that gave shape to our identity.

And sometimes it is standing in the unfamiliar space between what was and what is becoming.

That is where I find myself now.

Promised Season is not simply a consulting firm for me. It is an act of faith. It is an act of restoration. It is the slow and vulnerable work of believing that what I carried into boardrooms, communities, strategy sessions, and restorative circles still has value outside the walls of an institution.

That is harder than I expected.

There are days I feel clear and energized.
And there are days I stop myself before I even begin.

I have learned not to rush through those moments.

This season has required me to pause instead of perform. To reflect instead of react. To rest instead of immediately proving.

And in that pause, I have found myself returning to a practice that has carried me through many uncertain spaces in my life: what I call three-breath prayers.

Before difficult meetings.
Before speaking in rooms where I questioned whether I belonged.
Before stepping to the front of the room to lead.
Before entering spaces that felt intimidating or unknown.

I would pause.

First breath:
Dear Heavenly Father, steady me.

Second breath:
Remind me of who and what has carried me here — the ancestors, the experiences, the lessons, the people who poured into me.

Third breath:
Help me do what I was called to do in this moment.

Sometimes the prayer was longer.
Sometimes it was only a whisper.

But the practice grounded me.

And what I realize now is that I still need it.

Not because I am incapable.
Not because I am unqualified.
But because becoming requires courage.

Even now, while building Promised Season, I find myself returning to those breaths when fear rises up. When comparison creeps in. When uncertainty gets loud.

I pause.
I breathe.
I remember.

I remember that God created me for such a time as this.
I remember that rest is not failure.
I remember that reflection is part of the work.
I remember that what is being built slowly can still be sacred.

And I remind myself:

I am allowed to grow into this season.
I am allowed to learn publicly.
I am allowed to begin before I feel completely ready.

Maybe you need that reminder too.

Maybe you are standing in front of your own mirror questioning whether you have what it takes to step into the next season of your life.

Maybe your calling feels bigger than your confidence right now.

Maybe you are carrying grief while also trying to carry vision.

If so, perhaps this is your reminder to pause.

Take the breath.
Set the intention.
Ground yourself in what anchors you.
Call on what has carried you this far.

And then step forward anyway.

Slowly.
Gently.
Faithfully.

This is a promised season.

And maybe becoming “More…Better…Different™” begins with believing that we were already worthy of the room.

Peace and Love,
Dr. Shanda