In the midst of my journey, I discovered a contradiction that shook the foundation of my faith and self-worth. Despite the comfort I found in the box of the church, the joy of playing instruments, and the intellectual nourishment of Bible study, I was engaged in a profound internal struggle.

It was a battle between emotions and the pursuit of genuine happiness, a struggle that many of us quietly face. You see, while I could outwardly project an image of a devout and fulfilled individual, internally, I struggled with self-love.

The pressure of being looked up to by many only intensified the conflict. It’s during this period of my life that I openly acknowledge the internal debate that wages on, exploring the complexity of finding true happiness while wrestling with self-doubt and depression.

I always come back to this joint by Kendrick Lamar; It’s like a lifeline, a connection to my own experiences that’s almost uncanny. I can rap along to the verses with an intensity that comes from feeling like every word was written just for me. You see, I’ve been through some real tough times, and the situations I’ve faced often mirror what Kendrick lays out in his lyrics. It’s a unique kind of therapy, really. This track, it allows me to vent, to release all those thoughts and emotions that sometimes feel like they’re drowning me. I have faith, I know God is there, but there are moments when I still don’t know how to deal with everything life throws my way. In those moments, it’s the music, the artistry of Kendrick Lamar, that becomes my guiding light, my way of understanding and healing.

Anytime I couldn’t find God, I still could find myself through a song – Count me out by Kendrick Lamar

Church, for me, has been the place where I’ve constructed my identity, where I’ve struggled with the dual life many of us live. On one hand, it elevates you to a pedestal, with expectations of perfection, of being a shining example for the younger generation and those who may not yet know the ways of God. I once lived that life, preaching the word of God and carrying myself as a leader. But as I stood before the congregation, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of unresolved issues within my own family, the problems that ran deep in my own house. It was a painful contradiction – I could preach to the world, but I couldn’t effectively practice what I preached at home. My inability to rescue my nephew and my own siblings as they strayed from the right path left me feeling burdened with guilt. After all, I felt that God had called me to preach and teach, and in my own family, I felt I had fallen short of my divine mission.

I’ve had moments in my life when I could empathize with Kendrick Lamar’s experiences, especially when he shared the pain of being unable to protect his friend’s brother and his own sister, who was pregnant with a baby. It’s a heart-wrenching feeling when you want to shield your loved ones from harm, but circumstances seem to conspire against your efforts. The weight of helplessness and the anguish of not being able to change the course of events can resonate deeply, and it’s in these moments that I felt a connection with Kendrick’s raw and emotional storytelling. His music has a way of speaking to the complexities of life that many of us face, reminding us that we’re not alone in our struggles.