My house is a very, very, very loud house. lol!
Well, let me not be so dramatic. My house isn't always loud, but my children do keep things lively. From the time their little eyes pop open in the morning until they go to sleep at night, they are almost obsessed with this strange notion we like to call "fairness".
They are just under twenty months apart, with Matthew being the oldest, but that doesn't matter to them. In their minds and in their little hearts, they are the same.
Never mind they aren't the same age.
Never mind they aren't the same gender.
Never mind they don't have the same needs, temperaments, desires, habits or learning style.
They wake up every morning with the expectation that everything in their two worlds will be the same.
Same drinks.
Same toys.
Same food.
Same snacks.
Same punishments.
And if there's ever any difference, they both suddenly become lawyers and immediately file an appeal with the judicial court of Motherhood.
MAMA!!! Caitlyn has a cookie and I don't!
It doesn't matter that he had three before she even had her one cookie.
All they can see is what the one has and the other doesn't have.
Hmm.
This morning when the Lord dropped this word "fairness" into my heart and told me to write about it, I wasn't sure where He was going with it.
Now the light is starting to come on a little bit.
We are all His children.
He loves us all equally, indeed.
But He does not treat us all the same.
When it comes to life, fairness at some point has to give way to justice.
There is a difference.
The bible has many examples of things that weren't necessarily fair, but they were just.
It wasn't fair that Jacob, the younger, should receive the birthright over his brother Esau. But when Esau's heart was examined, it was clear that it was a just decision by Almighty God.
When the people saw King Saul, they saw a handsome and strong looking leader. But God rejected him because inwardly, he was a rebellious coward. It wasn't fair that he would be dethroned by a ruddy, fresh faced shepherd boy, but it was just.
There are so many things we can look at in life and shout out,"God, that's not fair!!"
Why is she married and I'm not?
Why do they have children and we don't?
Why did my loved one die and theirs didn't?
Why did I lose my home and they didn't?
Why did they get the job and I didn't?
How is that fair?
I can understand my children's frustration at times.
All they can see is their little perspectives.
But my job is to teach them how to trust my judgement, even when they can't understand it.
My job as mom is to make sure they understand that it is not their place to challenge me and to tell me what I should do for them or to assume that they will both receive the same thing all the time.
They are not the same. They have different needs. They are of two different maturity levels and I have two different levels of expectation for both of them.
Fairness only considers what you have or don't have at the moment.
Rarely, if ever does it consider what you've already been given.
So the next time you feel like looking up towards heaven and telling God that something isn't fair, I hope that you'll pause and think of my two little children.
Imagine them running around the house, both having all of their needs met, a loving mom watching over them and with all of that, still finding the need to point out where things appear to them to be different and unfair.
Stop your whining. Realize how good you've got it in the grand scheme of things.
No, you don't have what someone else has right now.
You may have already had more than they ever did.
God is not a fair God. He is a just God.
Trust His judgement.
He is for you, whether you think that's fair or not.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Inside Of A Control Freak... (poem)
There's a lump in my throat.
There's a knot in the pit of my stomach.
I don't want to eat.
It's difficult to drink.
It's hard to breathe.
I feel my chest start to heave.
I think I might faint
While I feel like I'm panicking.
Running and stumbling
Clawing and scratching
What could be happening?
I'm losing control.
There's a knot in the pit of my stomach.
I don't want to eat.
It's difficult to drink.
It's hard to breathe.
I feel my chest start to heave.
I think I might faint
While I feel like I'm panicking.
Running and stumbling
Clawing and scratching
What could be happening?
I'm losing control.
Unloved...
Genesis 29:31- "When the LORD saw that Leah was not loved, he opened her womb, but Rachel was barren".
I've read the story of Jacob, Leah and Rachel many times before.
I've always been fascinated by this unusual love story and the family drama.
Two sisters in love with the same man...hmm. What's not to be fascinated by?
But this has probably been one of the most perplexing, frustrating, and painfully poignant scriptures I've ever read.
I know what it's like to feel unloved.
It bothered me to read of Leah's humiliation. No one could have imagined how she felt the next morning after her wedding night, after she'd given her virginity away to Jacob, lifting the veil from her face and seeing the look of shock fade into anger, then from anger into disgust.
No one can imagine doing everything you possibly could to erase that look off his face to no avail.
When I was coming up, this scripture was always taught as if Leah was the one who deceived Jacob into marriage. She was a co conspirator.
But I don't believe that is accurate or true.
I believe that her father may have been deceitful.
But the heart of Leah was sincere and pure.
She loved a man who did not love her.
It pained me to read of her anguish, as I imagined her having to watch Jacob look lovingly into the eyes of her sister but turn stares of hate and disgust in her direction.
I can't imagine the pain of seeing the man you love going to the tent of your sister for the night and knowing that is where he wished he could stay.
How Leah must have moaned, knowing the only thing keeping Jacob by her side was a law of the land.
His heart was far from her.
As she despaired, languished in pain and hurt, this scripture comes into view more clearly: ""When the LORD saw that Leah was not loved, he opened her womb, but Rachel was barren".
This has been a blog I've wanted to write for a long time but I didn't know what to say. This morning when I got up, the Holy Spirit brought it back to me. I was still unsure of what to say, but He reassured me that the words would come to me and flow as I took the step of faith to write about a scripture that has cut me to my soul and fascinated me, all at the same time.
I know what it's like to be the woman that will do for the time being.
I know what it feels like to be the woman he knows he should be with, but that his heart doesn't desire.
I know what it feels like to search for love, acceptance, and validation in his eyes and only see emptiness.
I know what it feels like to lay in his bed chamber ashamed and despised.
A scripture that used to cause me so much grief is beginning to comfort me now.
God sees the unloved.
How powerful is that?
He took notice of Leah's pain.
Whether or not it was Laban's fault, Leah's fault or Jacob's fault that the marriage happened in the first place, God saw that Leah was unloved. Some translations say "hated" or "esteemed less than".
Maybe you're sitting somewhere like me, looking at your life and all its decisions. You see the good and the bad in a pile together. You realize there were some decisions you should have made that you didn't and some things that you should have said that you didn't. But now you're in the bed chamber, you're naked, uncovered and unloved.
What did God do for the woman who was unloved?
"He opened her womb..."
I bore two children for a man who did not love me, or at least, esteemed me to be "less than". But instead of leaving me to feel used, unloved and unappreciated, God made me fruitful.
I'm not implying that every woman who has a child out of wedlock is like Leah or that God rewards broken marriages with children.
No.
But I am saying that he makes the unloved fruitful.
He opens their womb, the place where greatness is carried and born.
He gives them blessing after blessing and showers them with favor.
Rachel had the love and favor of her husband.
But Leah had the love and favor of God.
Seven sons and one daughter.
She rejoiced after each birth.
Not much is mentioned in the bible about the relationship between Jacob and Leah. It is clear that Rachel was favored.
However, as I began to dig deeper into the text, I found that Leah wasn't overlooked by Jacob all her life.
Genesis 49: 29 Then he gave them these instructions: “I am about to be gathered to my people. Bury me with my fathers in the cave in the field of Ephron the Hittite, 30 the cave in the field of Machpelah, near Mamre in Canaan, which Abraham bought along with the field as a burial place from Ephron the Hittite. 31 There Abraham and his wife Sarah were buried, there Isaac and his wife Rebekah were buried, and there I buried Leah. 32
Somewhere between the heartache and tears, the anguish and humiliation, Leah found herself highly esteemed, honored in her burial among the princesses of Israel, the wives of the patriarchs.
Rachel is not buried here.
But Leah is.
With life drifting away from his aged body, Jacob charged his sons to bury him next to Leah.
Wow.
God sees every tear stained eye and hears every moan.
The humiliation didn't escape His sight.
The verbal abuse was heard in His ears.
I just want you to know that God Almighty has opened your womb in the midst of your pain and disappointment.
Great things will be born from your pain.
The nations of the earth will be blessed by you.
God has crowned you with lovingkindness and favor.
It's ok to cry Leah.
You may be unloved by a man...
But you are dearly beloved by God.
He will bestow on you the honor you are due.
Trust Him and receive it, you beauty Queen.
I've read the story of Jacob, Leah and Rachel many times before.
I've always been fascinated by this unusual love story and the family drama.
Two sisters in love with the same man...hmm. What's not to be fascinated by?
But this has probably been one of the most perplexing, frustrating, and painfully poignant scriptures I've ever read.
I know what it's like to feel unloved.
It bothered me to read of Leah's humiliation. No one could have imagined how she felt the next morning after her wedding night, after she'd given her virginity away to Jacob, lifting the veil from her face and seeing the look of shock fade into anger, then from anger into disgust.
No one can imagine doing everything you possibly could to erase that look off his face to no avail.
When I was coming up, this scripture was always taught as if Leah was the one who deceived Jacob into marriage. She was a co conspirator.
But I don't believe that is accurate or true.
I believe that her father may have been deceitful.
But the heart of Leah was sincere and pure.
She loved a man who did not love her.
It pained me to read of her anguish, as I imagined her having to watch Jacob look lovingly into the eyes of her sister but turn stares of hate and disgust in her direction.
I can't imagine the pain of seeing the man you love going to the tent of your sister for the night and knowing that is where he wished he could stay.
How Leah must have moaned, knowing the only thing keeping Jacob by her side was a law of the land.
His heart was far from her.
As she despaired, languished in pain and hurt, this scripture comes into view more clearly: ""When the LORD saw that Leah was not loved, he opened her womb, but Rachel was barren".
This has been a blog I've wanted to write for a long time but I didn't know what to say. This morning when I got up, the Holy Spirit brought it back to me. I was still unsure of what to say, but He reassured me that the words would come to me and flow as I took the step of faith to write about a scripture that has cut me to my soul and fascinated me, all at the same time.
I know what it's like to be the woman that will do for the time being.
I know what it feels like to be the woman he knows he should be with, but that his heart doesn't desire.
I know what it feels like to search for love, acceptance, and validation in his eyes and only see emptiness.
I know what it feels like to lay in his bed chamber ashamed and despised.
A scripture that used to cause me so much grief is beginning to comfort me now.
God sees the unloved.
How powerful is that?
He took notice of Leah's pain.
Whether or not it was Laban's fault, Leah's fault or Jacob's fault that the marriage happened in the first place, God saw that Leah was unloved. Some translations say "hated" or "esteemed less than".
Maybe you're sitting somewhere like me, looking at your life and all its decisions. You see the good and the bad in a pile together. You realize there were some decisions you should have made that you didn't and some things that you should have said that you didn't. But now you're in the bed chamber, you're naked, uncovered and unloved.
What did God do for the woman who was unloved?
"He opened her womb..."
I bore two children for a man who did not love me, or at least, esteemed me to be "less than". But instead of leaving me to feel used, unloved and unappreciated, God made me fruitful.
I'm not implying that every woman who has a child out of wedlock is like Leah or that God rewards broken marriages with children.
No.
But I am saying that he makes the unloved fruitful.
He opens their womb, the place where greatness is carried and born.
He gives them blessing after blessing and showers them with favor.
Rachel had the love and favor of her husband.
But Leah had the love and favor of God.
Seven sons and one daughter.
She rejoiced after each birth.
Not much is mentioned in the bible about the relationship between Jacob and Leah. It is clear that Rachel was favored.
However, as I began to dig deeper into the text, I found that Leah wasn't overlooked by Jacob all her life.
Genesis 49: 29 Then he gave them these instructions: “I am about to be gathered to my people. Bury me with my fathers in the cave in the field of Ephron the Hittite, 30 the cave in the field of Machpelah, near Mamre in Canaan, which Abraham bought along with the field as a burial place from Ephron the Hittite. 31 There Abraham and his wife Sarah were buried, there Isaac and his wife Rebekah were buried, and there I buried Leah. 32
Somewhere between the heartache and tears, the anguish and humiliation, Leah found herself highly esteemed, honored in her burial among the princesses of Israel, the wives of the patriarchs.
Rachel is not buried here.
But Leah is.
With life drifting away from his aged body, Jacob charged his sons to bury him next to Leah.
Wow.
God sees every tear stained eye and hears every moan.
The humiliation didn't escape His sight.
The verbal abuse was heard in His ears.
I just want you to know that God Almighty has opened your womb in the midst of your pain and disappointment.
Great things will be born from your pain.
The nations of the earth will be blessed by you.
God has crowned you with lovingkindness and favor.
It's ok to cry Leah.
You may be unloved by a man...
But you are dearly beloved by God.
He will bestow on you the honor you are due.
Trust Him and receive it, you beauty Queen.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Boundaries...
Boundary: Something that indicates a border or limit; something that indicates the farthest limit, as of an area; border.
Welcome to 2012!
While many folks are kicking off their new year with resolutions, diet plans and new hairdo's, God is leading me down a much more complex and challenging path called establishing boundaries.
It's unfortunate that I've lived most of my life without understanding, appreciating or having many boundaries for myself. I have spent the entire 34 years of my life respecting and abiding within the boundary lines of others.
What is my limit?
When do I say enough is enough? Where do I draw the line?
God speaks to me in the simplest of ways sometimes.
My children have the run of my home. We don't live in a china shop. They are loud, playful and full of energy from the time their little eyes pop open in the morning until they droop in sleep at night. I was speaking with my sister by phone the other night and we were discussing the various tasks and chores that we needed to accomplish. I talked about my need to clean my bedroom and joked, "My room looks like Matt and Cait's room! I've got their clothes and toys everywhere!" Then, the conversation flowed this way. I said, "Remember when we were little how going in mama and daddy's room was like an event?! I mean, it was a sacred space that we never got to chill in or run around in". Then the light came on. I said to my sister, "I get it. Mama and daddy made their room off limits. Because they did, it always stayed neat and clean. Maybe if I did the same thing, my room would stay neat!"
Boundaries.
How far is too far?
How much is too much?
Is it when he calls you "bitch"?
Is it when she steals your money?
Is it when he slaps your face?
Is it when he cheats on you?
Is it when she talks about you behind your back?
I believe I developed a coping mechanism as a child that allowed me to put things that distressed me and angered me in another place that I couldn't access in my consciousness. I remember wrongs but I don't hold them like grudges. It's quite weird to explain to someone who's outside of my head. But my family and friends have seen it and witnessed it first hand. It's the reason why I took ex's back after horrible offenses and restored them to the place they were before it ever happened. No consequences. No guilt trips. No anger and revenge. Silence. Smiles.
No boundaries.
Now that I'm 34, it's as if the Holy Spirit is allowing the spotlight to be turned on me. For years, I focused on others; my parents, my friends, my boyfriends, my children.
I had to right everyone else's wrongs and make sure everyone else was ok.
I had to mediate and facilitate.
But not anymore.
It's almost as if God has pulled up a chair and commanded me to be seated.
Put a mirror in my hand and said "Look".
I have the most amazing spiritual leaders a human being could be graced to receive. I love them both completely. Their love is sincere. They walk with God. You feel His presence when in their presence. This sincerity of love comforts but it also exposes the weak, flimsy and fake portions of my foundation.
It's chipping away at who I thought I was and making me into who I was meant to be.
That process isn't always easy and I've been told I haven't even gotten to the nitty gritty yet.
Already my heart is racing, stomach is in a knot and eyes are watering.
It hurts to see inside yourself.
But where else can I get this much needed heart surgery than in the company of skilled, loving spiritual surgeons?
Boundaries.
I need them. I haven't had them. My bedroom looks like an extension of my children's shared bedroom.
Why?
I am not a dirty person but I am cluttered.
The simplest definition of clutter is "many things out of place".
Once things are returned to their proper place and forced to remain there, the room takes on the appearance of order and neatness.
I'm de-cluttering.
My life has been cluttered because I haven't had boundaries.
I freeze.
I become mute and silent when I should speak.
I erupt like a volcano that no one understands because I refused to say in the moment what bothered me. Why?
I never had permission to say what I felt as a child.
The adult thought she still had to play by a child's rules.
I really don't care what anyone thinks of this particular blog entry.
I gotta be me, the real me.
It's not always pretty, cute and well manicured.
But this year, for the first time, I want to get down to the root of things.
I want help. I want to be healed and whole.
I don't want to climb to the top of the hill and watch the stone roll all the way back down.
I want to be married.
I want a loving home for my children to live in.
I'm not going to get any of that with an unwillingness to be dealt with, disciplined, and taught. I'm not going to be where I want to be if I don't submit to the process.
I had no idea I didn't understand the need for boundaries in my life until people started crossing them in bigger, bolder ways.
See, that's the thing.
Once you allow someone to cross a line, that's not the only line they'll ever cross.
They become more bold, more aggressive, more intrusive.
Eventually, you'll be held hostage to their demands, a slave to their wants.
A prisoner of your own life.
Not me.
Not this year.
Not anymore.
Stop right there.
Boundaries.
Welcome to 2012!
While many folks are kicking off their new year with resolutions, diet plans and new hairdo's, God is leading me down a much more complex and challenging path called establishing boundaries.
It's unfortunate that I've lived most of my life without understanding, appreciating or having many boundaries for myself. I have spent the entire 34 years of my life respecting and abiding within the boundary lines of others.
What is my limit?
When do I say enough is enough? Where do I draw the line?
God speaks to me in the simplest of ways sometimes.
My children have the run of my home. We don't live in a china shop. They are loud, playful and full of energy from the time their little eyes pop open in the morning until they droop in sleep at night. I was speaking with my sister by phone the other night and we were discussing the various tasks and chores that we needed to accomplish. I talked about my need to clean my bedroom and joked, "My room looks like Matt and Cait's room! I've got their clothes and toys everywhere!" Then, the conversation flowed this way. I said, "Remember when we were little how going in mama and daddy's room was like an event?! I mean, it was a sacred space that we never got to chill in or run around in". Then the light came on. I said to my sister, "I get it. Mama and daddy made their room off limits. Because they did, it always stayed neat and clean. Maybe if I did the same thing, my room would stay neat!"
Boundaries.
How far is too far?
How much is too much?
Is it when he calls you "bitch"?
Is it when she steals your money?
Is it when he slaps your face?
Is it when he cheats on you?
Is it when she talks about you behind your back?
I believe I developed a coping mechanism as a child that allowed me to put things that distressed me and angered me in another place that I couldn't access in my consciousness. I remember wrongs but I don't hold them like grudges. It's quite weird to explain to someone who's outside of my head. But my family and friends have seen it and witnessed it first hand. It's the reason why I took ex's back after horrible offenses and restored them to the place they were before it ever happened. No consequences. No guilt trips. No anger and revenge. Silence. Smiles.
No boundaries.
Now that I'm 34, it's as if the Holy Spirit is allowing the spotlight to be turned on me. For years, I focused on others; my parents, my friends, my boyfriends, my children.
I had to right everyone else's wrongs and make sure everyone else was ok.
I had to mediate and facilitate.
But not anymore.
It's almost as if God has pulled up a chair and commanded me to be seated.
Put a mirror in my hand and said "Look".
I have the most amazing spiritual leaders a human being could be graced to receive. I love them both completely. Their love is sincere. They walk with God. You feel His presence when in their presence. This sincerity of love comforts but it also exposes the weak, flimsy and fake portions of my foundation.
It's chipping away at who I thought I was and making me into who I was meant to be.
That process isn't always easy and I've been told I haven't even gotten to the nitty gritty yet.
Already my heart is racing, stomach is in a knot and eyes are watering.
It hurts to see inside yourself.
But where else can I get this much needed heart surgery than in the company of skilled, loving spiritual surgeons?
Boundaries.
I need them. I haven't had them. My bedroom looks like an extension of my children's shared bedroom.
Why?
I am not a dirty person but I am cluttered.
The simplest definition of clutter is "many things out of place".
Once things are returned to their proper place and forced to remain there, the room takes on the appearance of order and neatness.
I'm de-cluttering.
My life has been cluttered because I haven't had boundaries.
I freeze.
I become mute and silent when I should speak.
I erupt like a volcano that no one understands because I refused to say in the moment what bothered me. Why?
I never had permission to say what I felt as a child.
The adult thought she still had to play by a child's rules.
I really don't care what anyone thinks of this particular blog entry.
I gotta be me, the real me.
It's not always pretty, cute and well manicured.
But this year, for the first time, I want to get down to the root of things.
I want help. I want to be healed and whole.
I don't want to climb to the top of the hill and watch the stone roll all the way back down.
I want to be married.
I want a loving home for my children to live in.
I'm not going to get any of that with an unwillingness to be dealt with, disciplined, and taught. I'm not going to be where I want to be if I don't submit to the process.
I had no idea I didn't understand the need for boundaries in my life until people started crossing them in bigger, bolder ways.
See, that's the thing.
Once you allow someone to cross a line, that's not the only line they'll ever cross.
They become more bold, more aggressive, more intrusive.
Eventually, you'll be held hostage to their demands, a slave to their wants.
A prisoner of your own life.
Not me.
Not this year.
Not anymore.
Stop right there.
Boundaries.
Friday, January 06, 2012
Cli-Mate
When does your sun rise?
I will be there on time.
What brings the rain to your clouds?
I won't rest until I know.
From which direction does your soft wind blow?
I'll find it.
When your seasons and reasons change
I want to be the one who remains
Unphased by your weather conditions
Undeterred by your darkness
Never blinded by your light
Never fearful of your thunder
The always of you.
The constant of you.
Weathering you.
I will be there on time.
What brings the rain to your clouds?
I won't rest until I know.
From which direction does your soft wind blow?
I'll find it.
When your seasons and reasons change
I want to be the one who remains
Unphased by your weather conditions
Undeterred by your darkness
Never blinded by your light
Never fearful of your thunder
The always of you.
The constant of you.
Weathering you.
Thursday, January 05, 2012
Greater Comfort...
 |
| March 31, 2011 |
Why?
I'm sure it looks like any ordinary picture I've taken, but there's so much in this picture that you can't see.
I took this picture on one of the most difficult days of my life.
I took it the day I lost the job I'd worked for the last 11 years of my life.
I came home that day and sat in my bedroom alone. It was around 10 a.m., close to 11. I wasn't used to being home at that time of day.
I didn't know what to do first, so I began to call my family.
One by one, their reactions were the same.
Shock.
Disbelief.
Anger.
They asked me was I ok.
I lied.
I took this picture, not even sure why I was doing it.
I messaged my spiritual father and told him what happened.
He encouraged me.
"This is God. Everything will be alright".
God?
Where?
I was hurting badly.
I felt wronged.
I was uncertain about everything.
I didn't know what to do.
So I took out my camera phone and took this picture.
I told myself by faith, and I guess some would say prophetically, that one day, I would look at this picture and feel no pain.
One day, I would smile and the smile would be real and the tears would be gone.
One day, I would understand the Word of the Lord that told me that what I was going through was Him.
I was sitting at the table of my spiritual leaders this past weekend.
While there, I began to talk about feeling uncomfortable and dealing with feelings of discomfort while in transition.
He corrected me and gave me this Word, and I'm paraphrasing: "It's not that you're being taken to a place of discomfort. The process of transition is uncomfortable. But where you are being taken to is a place of greater comfort".
That Word resonated in my heart like a gong.
Greater comfort.
Words can't describe how uncomfortable it is to transition from working everyday for the past 11 years to sitting at home during the day.
There's no discomfort quite like having to explain to two small children why mommy is at home instead of at work.
But each day, I held on to the Word of the Lord that told me what I was going through was from God.
Since that moment in my life last year, this blog has seen major growth. The gift of writing that was given to me by God has started to come forth in greater measure.
Some relationships that were dear to my heart fell away last year.
That was also painful.
But just as the Lord spoke concerning the loss of my job, I realized that all of the changing and uprooting that was taking place within my life was Him.
You can't pray for change and then become surprised when it comes.
There are just some places in your life that will not produce the greatness that God has designated for your life. You have to accept that. My mama likes plants and there comes a time when she has to put the same plant in a new pot. Why? Because if she leaves the plant in its original pot, it will not grow to its full potential. But if it stays in that pot anyway, not only will its growth be stunted, its life will be cut off.
Some things hurt when they are taken away. We feel uncomfortable.
But there is a Word from the Lord.
He will never, EVER take you from comfort to discomfort.
Yes, the transition may be uncomfortable.
But the place you are going to is a place of GREATER COMFORT!
I give honor to my Apostle, Ricardo Watson for that Word spoken into my life...
His leadership, and his covering over my life.
I know what it's like to live without a spiritual covering.
That is why I am so grateful to have one now.
I am thankful for where the Lord has brought me.
 |
| January 5, 2012. Nearly 10 months later. |
I am one incredibly blessed woman.
God has shown Himself to be everything that I could ever need in 10 months time.
Walking by faith may not be easy, but once you begin, you realize there's really no other way to walk.
It was worth it all to know Him like I know Him now.
I trust Him with the rest of my life.
Great things have been prophesied over my destiny. I am eternally grateful for the prophetic gifts that have been connected to my life via facebook; those who have taken of their time to message me, encourage me and speak Words of life to me in a season of my life that I didn't even disclose to them.
That's when you know someone is hearing from God.
When they can speak into your life without knowing all your business, then you know you've met someone who hears God.
I threw that one in for free.
But as I sit here a couple of hours away from my birthday, my heart is overwhelmed with gratefulness.
He's my Shepherd and I don't want for anything.
He's dried my tears and calmed my fears.
He's given me double for everything that was taken away.
He's lifted my head and given me a new song to sing.
He's been faithful and He's been true.
He's given me leaders, friends, and people that I can trust. People who hear God. People who love God.
I associate with these types of people now.
I have very little time or interest in anyone else.
Tomorrow, I'll spend most of my time doing what I want to do. I'll have pizza with my babies. I'll read all of my birthday wishes and respond.
Under the orders of my dear sister, I'm going to go to bed soon and rest tomorrow. Today I battled a health issue that was probably brought on in part from a lack of rest.
I'm going to do better.
But as I take it down for the night, the overwhelming theme for my 34th year will be gratefulness.
I'm believing God for many things, many wonderful awesome things.
But I will be careful to give Him the praise for everything, great and small.
I'm grateful for every blessing that I have.
I'm blessed with two beautiful children.
Loving family.
Beautiful friends.
Strong, loving and sincere spiritual leaders.
I feel so rich in blessings today.
To God be the glory for what He has done and will do in me.
I have been given so much.
I've learned to depend on Him and to trust His Word.
Change will come. Be encouraged when it does. Embrace it.
You may cry and there may be some difficult days as you transition.
But trust God.
He wouldn't take you from greater to give you lesser.
Greater comfort is your portion.
Monday, January 02, 2012
The Beginning And End...
I love New Year!
It's just hard to miss the feeling of renewal in the air and the feeling of a clean slate and fresh start. It's hard not resist the energy that comes with a new year and the motivation it inspires.
However, while most revel in this feeling for a while, I have another experience that I must deal with. Friday is my birthday. I'll be 34 years old.
As much as I'd like to spend my time celebrating the new year, I'm also met with the task of facing the fact that I am a year older and assessing where I am in life a lot sooner than others. It's always my turn first as a First week of January baby.
I am a planner. Whereas I don't always write every single detail down, I do at least expect a dialogue about what needs to take place. I like to work things out both in my head and aloud. But if I learned anything last year, it's that my best made plans sometimes didn't get to see the light of day. I've come to accept that although I plan my way, He ultimately orders my steps.
This new year is packed with prophetic meaning and I certainly have my ears open to what the Lord is saying to His people corporately through his Apostles and Prophets. I'm also listening to what He's been saying specifically to me.
For starts, the faith walk continues and the fear walking ends. I can't be afraid to make decisions. The risk of being right far outweighs the risk of being wrong. The odds are in my favor because God is on my side. If He can do this much with my life without my even acknowledging Him or seeking His face for direction, imagine what He is able and willing to do now that I'm willing to seek Him?
Although I've seen some losses in my life in the area of relationships, I've also seen some tremendous gains. I've been blessed with family and friends who love my for who I am and who build me up spiritually with encouragement and prayer. I can't tell you how good that feels.
I wouldn't say that I am happily single... lol! But I will say that I am content. I fully expect to meet someone all in God's timing and I'm open to whoever He desires to bless me with. But I have to be honest...
This is probably going to be the most selfish year of my life.
That's not to say that I will behave selfishly toward others, although anytime some people don't occupy 100% of your time and resources, they label you as "selfish". What I am saying is that this year I'm going to be more in tune with me and making sure that I get the help I need both naturally and spiritually. I turn 34 this year and I'm ready to have something significant to show for that amount of time on earth. There's more to me than what's been seen. When I do find love, I want it to last. I don't want to choke it with unresolved issues. Time to let some things go and be free. When he comes, and I know he will, the version of me that he'll see will be well worth it.
So many things about my life have got to change. There's more to do in life than wait to get old and die. There's a whole life to live and so much to work on as an individual.
I don't think about getting older. I think about growing up. lol! I hope to soon feel as if I'm standing in my full strength as a woman, head lifted, back straight, fearless and confident. No more second guessing. No more doubt and fear. Sure steps. Clear direction. Focus and resolve.
There are a lot of changes that will take place this year and I'm embracing each of them.
I'm ready to kick my life into gear and start living on the level God intended me to live.
Things are falling into place.
Soon, I'll be right where I want to be.
It's just hard to miss the feeling of renewal in the air and the feeling of a clean slate and fresh start. It's hard not resist the energy that comes with a new year and the motivation it inspires.
However, while most revel in this feeling for a while, I have another experience that I must deal with. Friday is my birthday. I'll be 34 years old.
As much as I'd like to spend my time celebrating the new year, I'm also met with the task of facing the fact that I am a year older and assessing where I am in life a lot sooner than others. It's always my turn first as a First week of January baby.
I am a planner. Whereas I don't always write every single detail down, I do at least expect a dialogue about what needs to take place. I like to work things out both in my head and aloud. But if I learned anything last year, it's that my best made plans sometimes didn't get to see the light of day. I've come to accept that although I plan my way, He ultimately orders my steps.
This new year is packed with prophetic meaning and I certainly have my ears open to what the Lord is saying to His people corporately through his Apostles and Prophets. I'm also listening to what He's been saying specifically to me.
For starts, the faith walk continues and the fear walking ends. I can't be afraid to make decisions. The risk of being right far outweighs the risk of being wrong. The odds are in my favor because God is on my side. If He can do this much with my life without my even acknowledging Him or seeking His face for direction, imagine what He is able and willing to do now that I'm willing to seek Him?
Although I've seen some losses in my life in the area of relationships, I've also seen some tremendous gains. I've been blessed with family and friends who love my for who I am and who build me up spiritually with encouragement and prayer. I can't tell you how good that feels.
I wouldn't say that I am happily single... lol! But I will say that I am content. I fully expect to meet someone all in God's timing and I'm open to whoever He desires to bless me with. But I have to be honest...
This is probably going to be the most selfish year of my life.
That's not to say that I will behave selfishly toward others, although anytime some people don't occupy 100% of your time and resources, they label you as "selfish". What I am saying is that this year I'm going to be more in tune with me and making sure that I get the help I need both naturally and spiritually. I turn 34 this year and I'm ready to have something significant to show for that amount of time on earth. There's more to me than what's been seen. When I do find love, I want it to last. I don't want to choke it with unresolved issues. Time to let some things go and be free. When he comes, and I know he will, the version of me that he'll see will be well worth it.
So many things about my life have got to change. There's more to do in life than wait to get old and die. There's a whole life to live and so much to work on as an individual.
I don't think about getting older. I think about growing up. lol! I hope to soon feel as if I'm standing in my full strength as a woman, head lifted, back straight, fearless and confident. No more second guessing. No more doubt and fear. Sure steps. Clear direction. Focus and resolve.
There are a lot of changes that will take place this year and I'm embracing each of them.
I'm ready to kick my life into gear and start living on the level God intended me to live.
Things are falling into place.
Soon, I'll be right where I want to be.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Time To Be Honest...
One of the hardest people you'll ever have to tell the truth to is yourself.
I've spend several years hoping for the best, settling for less and hoping things would change.
The truth does hurt sometimes, but it is necessary.
Yes, I made some wrong choices.
I got some things dead wrong.
But I'm realizing day by day, with God's help that wrong decisions don't disqualify me from making right ones as soon as I know better.
So for the new year, I'm determined to make better decisions.
I don't have to spend the rest of my life on the wrong road.
Sure, the U-turn hurts. Look at all the time I've lost and how far I've gone.
But it's time to turn this thing around.
God is for me.
His Grace is sufficient.
I believe God for better and I receive it.
I've spend several years hoping for the best, settling for less and hoping things would change.
The truth does hurt sometimes, but it is necessary.
Yes, I made some wrong choices.
I got some things dead wrong.
But I'm realizing day by day, with God's help that wrong decisions don't disqualify me from making right ones as soon as I know better.
So for the new year, I'm determined to make better decisions.
I don't have to spend the rest of my life on the wrong road.
Sure, the U-turn hurts. Look at all the time I've lost and how far I've gone.
But it's time to turn this thing around.
God is for me.
His Grace is sufficient.
I believe God for better and I receive it.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Something Blue... (short story)
She ordered everyone out of the room.
Besides the fact that the room was way too crowded with too many women busy with last minute primping, Joy needed a moment to herself to think.
In less than one hour, she'd be walking down the aisle, saying "I do" to the love of her life.
He was a good man. No. He was a great man.
She knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt.
They were just a few short months into their relationship when her father suddenly passed away.
Derek didn't run during her darkest hour. He was there for her every night she needed him and every morning when she didn't want to get out of bed. He listened to her as she reminisced about her father and held her hands down by her sides until she stopped raging and finally collapsed in grief.
Derek was the man she thought she'd never meet but somehow, she did.
And now, with less than an hour to go before their vows, Joy was nervous.
"How do I know for sure our love will last?" she thought as she stared at her luscious curls flowing from her tiara and veil. "I didn't get to ask daddy what he thought of Derek. Derek was never able to get daddy's blessing. How can I know for sure I'm doing the right thing?"
Joy's mother had been strangely silent throughout her courtship and engagement to Derek. Whenever Joy called her to vent about what she thought Derek wasn't doing right, her mother quickly found something else to talk about or simply said, "Baby, just pray about it. God will show you the way".
The truth was that Joy had been praying. She prayed before she met Derek. She prayed after she met him. She prayed on their first date, asking God for a sign. She'd been waiting for a sign that said "HE'S THE ONE" for two years.
But that neon sign never came.
All she knew was that Derek seemed too good to be true and she was afraid that this step to become his wife may not be the right step.
There was no one to ask.
Her father was gone.
Her mother was silent.
Was God even listening?
Just then, there was a slight knock at the door. It probably would have gone unnoticed to anyone else, but Joy knew that knock anywhere. "May I come in?" Mrs. Reeves said as she cracked the door ever so slightly. "Please come in mama", Joy said as she hurried to her feet to greet her at the door.
A slight woman with flowing silver hair walked into the room, face deeply set with winkles but with eyes as warm and clear as Joy's. At seventy years old, she was still amazingly beautiful, but the years were evident in her slower, stiffened steps. "Joy, are you alright?" Mrs. Reeves asked as she slowly made her way into the room. "Mama, I'm fine. I just needed time to think". Joy did her best to put on a brave face but her mother could see through her best efforts. "Joy Ann...", her mother said lovingly, yet with firmness. "Mama, how can I know that I'm making the right decision?!" Joy exclaimed, unable to conceal her frustration any longer. "Derek is a wonderful man. I love him with all my heart and soul. But love isn't enough sometimes. I wish daddy was here so that I could ask him what he thought. He would always give me such good advice mama, you know that. I just wish there was a way to look into the future and see how this all turns out before it happens!" Joy said, with half a laugh, but completely serious. "I'm scared mama".
Mrs. Reeves made her way to a chaise to take a seat. Joy followed closely behind her mother, knowing she was about to talk with her. As the sun poured over her silver locks, Mrs Reeves reached carefully into her purse and pulled out a faded piece of paper that was a pale shade of blue.
"Joy, there's something I never told you", Mrs. Reeves said as she stared at the blue note in her hands. "I was married once before your father". Joy was speechless. "MAMA!" Joy exclaimed, half shocked and a little disappointed in her mother for waiting until her wedding day to reveal such a secret. Mrs. Reeves raised her hand and stared deeply into Joy's eyes, telling her without words to allow her to finish speaking. "When I was in graduate school, I met a young man with whom I fell deeply in love. He was everything I thought I wanted in a man at the time and all of our friends and family thought we were perfect for each other. It wasn't long before he popped the question and I accepted his proposal. Deep down inside, I knew that although he was a good man, he wasn't the right man for me. But I married him anyway, thinking that our love would conquer it all and that somehow, it would all iron itself out. Your grandmother even told me it was just wedding day jitters. But I knew standing there in that dressing room all alone that he wasn't the one for me. I knew it", she said, almost in a whisper. "About two years into our marriage, things began to take a serious turn for the worse. By year three, we were sleeping in separate rooms, By year four, he left me. Year five, he filed for divorce. I was alone. I was broke and I was back home, living with your grandparents. I was broken and I was hurting but deep down, I was angry at myself for not listening to what I knew deep within was right. I spent many years as a single, what you young people would call now an "independent" woman. I became a teacher. I bought a house. It's a miracle in itself that I met your father!" Both Joy and Mrs. Reeves shared a chuckle. "Your father was determined to make me his wife. I didn't make things easy for him, but he hung in there and just wouldn't let me go. It took him years to win my heart. I was no young bride. I got married at 23 the first time around. But the second time, I was 38. Somehow he knew that underneath my sharp tongue was a scared woman who just didn't want to get hurt again. He loved me through my pain. On the day of our wedding, I sat in a room by myself, much like you are today, with memories of my first marriage rushing through my mind. I was scared too! What if I was making the same mistake twice? Your father was NOTHING like my first husband but I'd already been wrong once. How could I be sure I wasn't wrong again about your father?" Joy looked at her mother, as she sat on the chaise next to her. She'd always known that her parents were older than most of her friends but she never knew why. The first marriage explained everything. She was the product of her mother's second life.
"Mama, you used to always give me advice and tell me if this guy or that guy was right or wrong for me but now, you don't do that anymore. Whenever I tried to ask you about Derek, you changed the subject. Now that I'm here on my wedding day and after hearing your story, you have to understand what I'm feeling".
"I do understand how you're feeling Joy", Mrs Reeves said. "That's why I came in. Sweetheart, I didn't become silent to hurt you or even to frustrate you. When you needed guidance in your twenties, I was there. But I've watched you grow over the years from your good and bad choices and become a very strong and powerful woman of God. I trust the God in you. I know that He can speak to you just like He's spoken to me all these years. And He will tell you what to do. I know He will".
Reaching for her purse, Mrs. Reeves said, "I wanted to give you something. But before I do, I want to explain to you what it means". She took the pale blue note and began to unfold it carefully. The day of our wedding, I was sitting in my dressing room praying and asking God for a sign, any sign to let me know that I wasn't making another mistake but that I heard Him clearly when I decided to marry your father. I sat in that dressing room for what felt like hours but it was probably only thirty minutes. There was a knock at the door and before I could get to the door to open it, a little note came sliding through the bottom of the door: this note right here. Your daddy loved to write me love letters so I wasn't surprised by this note but what he wrote inside was my sign. The note said, "Helen, you are my answered prayer. Love, Thomas".
"You see Joy, when a man can say that about you, then you know he's the one. Look deep in your heart. Maybe Derek didn't say those exact words like your father. But has he spent each day that he's had with you making you feel like you were the answer to his prayer? Think about that baby and when you do, I know you'll have your answer and you can stop being afraid of the future".
Joy helped her mother up off the chaise. "Thank you so much for this letter mama. It really means a lot to me and I will treasure it always", Joy said as she and her mother embraced.
"I love you Joy. And I know that you will make the right decision. And whatever decision you will ever make in this life, always remember to trust the God in you".
Joy returned to her seat in front of the vanity and gave her makeup one last glance. She was all set. Her heart was full of questions about the marriage her parents enjoyed. She looked at her father's words on the pale blue note and whispered to him, "Thank you for loving my mama like this". As she pressed the note to her heart, she prayed one last prayer, "Father, I thank you for this moment in my life. Thank you for sending Derek into my life. And Lord whatever happens from this day forward, cause me to walk in faith, not fear, just like my mama did. In your Name I pray, Amen".
No sooner than Joy said amen, her wedding coordinator walked into the dressing room. "We're about to start lining up. Before we do, Derek asked me to show you your wedding band". Joy took the box from the coordinator, expecting to see the band she picked out with Derek months before. Sure enough it was the same band. But as she looked closer, she noticed it was engraved on the inside. It read, "My Answered Prayer". With tears in her eyes, she returned the band to its box, looked at her wedding coordinator and said, "I'm ready now. Let's go!"
Besides the fact that the room was way too crowded with too many women busy with last minute primping, Joy needed a moment to herself to think.
In less than one hour, she'd be walking down the aisle, saying "I do" to the love of her life.
He was a good man. No. He was a great man.
She knew this beyond a shadow of a doubt.
They were just a few short months into their relationship when her father suddenly passed away.
Derek didn't run during her darkest hour. He was there for her every night she needed him and every morning when she didn't want to get out of bed. He listened to her as she reminisced about her father and held her hands down by her sides until she stopped raging and finally collapsed in grief.
Derek was the man she thought she'd never meet but somehow, she did.
And now, with less than an hour to go before their vows, Joy was nervous.
"How do I know for sure our love will last?" she thought as she stared at her luscious curls flowing from her tiara and veil. "I didn't get to ask daddy what he thought of Derek. Derek was never able to get daddy's blessing. How can I know for sure I'm doing the right thing?"
Joy's mother had been strangely silent throughout her courtship and engagement to Derek. Whenever Joy called her to vent about what she thought Derek wasn't doing right, her mother quickly found something else to talk about or simply said, "Baby, just pray about it. God will show you the way".
The truth was that Joy had been praying. She prayed before she met Derek. She prayed after she met him. She prayed on their first date, asking God for a sign. She'd been waiting for a sign that said "HE'S THE ONE" for two years.
But that neon sign never came.
All she knew was that Derek seemed too good to be true and she was afraid that this step to become his wife may not be the right step.
There was no one to ask.
Her father was gone.
Her mother was silent.
Was God even listening?
Just then, there was a slight knock at the door. It probably would have gone unnoticed to anyone else, but Joy knew that knock anywhere. "May I come in?" Mrs. Reeves said as she cracked the door ever so slightly. "Please come in mama", Joy said as she hurried to her feet to greet her at the door.
A slight woman with flowing silver hair walked into the room, face deeply set with winkles but with eyes as warm and clear as Joy's. At seventy years old, she was still amazingly beautiful, but the years were evident in her slower, stiffened steps. "Joy, are you alright?" Mrs. Reeves asked as she slowly made her way into the room. "Mama, I'm fine. I just needed time to think". Joy did her best to put on a brave face but her mother could see through her best efforts. "Joy Ann...", her mother said lovingly, yet with firmness. "Mama, how can I know that I'm making the right decision?!" Joy exclaimed, unable to conceal her frustration any longer. "Derek is a wonderful man. I love him with all my heart and soul. But love isn't enough sometimes. I wish daddy was here so that I could ask him what he thought. He would always give me such good advice mama, you know that. I just wish there was a way to look into the future and see how this all turns out before it happens!" Joy said, with half a laugh, but completely serious. "I'm scared mama".
Mrs. Reeves made her way to a chaise to take a seat. Joy followed closely behind her mother, knowing she was about to talk with her. As the sun poured over her silver locks, Mrs Reeves reached carefully into her purse and pulled out a faded piece of paper that was a pale shade of blue.
"Joy, there's something I never told you", Mrs. Reeves said as she stared at the blue note in her hands. "I was married once before your father". Joy was speechless. "MAMA!" Joy exclaimed, half shocked and a little disappointed in her mother for waiting until her wedding day to reveal such a secret. Mrs. Reeves raised her hand and stared deeply into Joy's eyes, telling her without words to allow her to finish speaking. "When I was in graduate school, I met a young man with whom I fell deeply in love. He was everything I thought I wanted in a man at the time and all of our friends and family thought we were perfect for each other. It wasn't long before he popped the question and I accepted his proposal. Deep down inside, I knew that although he was a good man, he wasn't the right man for me. But I married him anyway, thinking that our love would conquer it all and that somehow, it would all iron itself out. Your grandmother even told me it was just wedding day jitters. But I knew standing there in that dressing room all alone that he wasn't the one for me. I knew it", she said, almost in a whisper. "About two years into our marriage, things began to take a serious turn for the worse. By year three, we were sleeping in separate rooms, By year four, he left me. Year five, he filed for divorce. I was alone. I was broke and I was back home, living with your grandparents. I was broken and I was hurting but deep down, I was angry at myself for not listening to what I knew deep within was right. I spent many years as a single, what you young people would call now an "independent" woman. I became a teacher. I bought a house. It's a miracle in itself that I met your father!" Both Joy and Mrs. Reeves shared a chuckle. "Your father was determined to make me his wife. I didn't make things easy for him, but he hung in there and just wouldn't let me go. It took him years to win my heart. I was no young bride. I got married at 23 the first time around. But the second time, I was 38. Somehow he knew that underneath my sharp tongue was a scared woman who just didn't want to get hurt again. He loved me through my pain. On the day of our wedding, I sat in a room by myself, much like you are today, with memories of my first marriage rushing through my mind. I was scared too! What if I was making the same mistake twice? Your father was NOTHING like my first husband but I'd already been wrong once. How could I be sure I wasn't wrong again about your father?" Joy looked at her mother, as she sat on the chaise next to her. She'd always known that her parents were older than most of her friends but she never knew why. The first marriage explained everything. She was the product of her mother's second life.
"Mama, you used to always give me advice and tell me if this guy or that guy was right or wrong for me but now, you don't do that anymore. Whenever I tried to ask you about Derek, you changed the subject. Now that I'm here on my wedding day and after hearing your story, you have to understand what I'm feeling".
"I do understand how you're feeling Joy", Mrs Reeves said. "That's why I came in. Sweetheart, I didn't become silent to hurt you or even to frustrate you. When you needed guidance in your twenties, I was there. But I've watched you grow over the years from your good and bad choices and become a very strong and powerful woman of God. I trust the God in you. I know that He can speak to you just like He's spoken to me all these years. And He will tell you what to do. I know He will".
Reaching for her purse, Mrs. Reeves said, "I wanted to give you something. But before I do, I want to explain to you what it means". She took the pale blue note and began to unfold it carefully. The day of our wedding, I was sitting in my dressing room praying and asking God for a sign, any sign to let me know that I wasn't making another mistake but that I heard Him clearly when I decided to marry your father. I sat in that dressing room for what felt like hours but it was probably only thirty minutes. There was a knock at the door and before I could get to the door to open it, a little note came sliding through the bottom of the door: this note right here. Your daddy loved to write me love letters so I wasn't surprised by this note but what he wrote inside was my sign. The note said, "Helen, you are my answered prayer. Love, Thomas".
"You see Joy, when a man can say that about you, then you know he's the one. Look deep in your heart. Maybe Derek didn't say those exact words like your father. But has he spent each day that he's had with you making you feel like you were the answer to his prayer? Think about that baby and when you do, I know you'll have your answer and you can stop being afraid of the future".
Joy helped her mother up off the chaise. "Thank you so much for this letter mama. It really means a lot to me and I will treasure it always", Joy said as she and her mother embraced.
"I love you Joy. And I know that you will make the right decision. And whatever decision you will ever make in this life, always remember to trust the God in you".
Joy returned to her seat in front of the vanity and gave her makeup one last glance. She was all set. Her heart was full of questions about the marriage her parents enjoyed. She looked at her father's words on the pale blue note and whispered to him, "Thank you for loving my mama like this". As she pressed the note to her heart, she prayed one last prayer, "Father, I thank you for this moment in my life. Thank you for sending Derek into my life. And Lord whatever happens from this day forward, cause me to walk in faith, not fear, just like my mama did. In your Name I pray, Amen".
No sooner than Joy said amen, her wedding coordinator walked into the dressing room. "We're about to start lining up. Before we do, Derek asked me to show you your wedding band". Joy took the box from the coordinator, expecting to see the band she picked out with Derek months before. Sure enough it was the same band. But as she looked closer, she noticed it was engraved on the inside. It read, "My Answered Prayer". With tears in her eyes, she returned the band to its box, looked at her wedding coordinator and said, "I'm ready now. Let's go!"
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Your Words...
The prettiest bouquet
The most beautiful gem
The biggest and the best gift
That I've ever received
Came from the thoughts of your mind
Committed to paper.
Typed in an email.
Scribed by hand.
Spoken through your lips.
How beautiful it is to receive
The words of a man to his woman.
The words that you speak
Lead me and feed me.
Please don't starve me
Of your words.
I need them.
They are necessary.
See how I smile
Just because you said it?
Ten girlfriends said the same thing today.
I barely noticed.
You said it once and changed my whole demeanor.
See how I wear it now because you said you like it?
See how I style it now, because you said you like it?
Your words have an effect on me.
I wish you could see it.
Do you know the power of your words on me?
They can get me through the day
Or keep me in bed.
Not wanting to eat, drink or shower.
Your words.
I wish you knew the power of them.
You told me once you loved it when I smiled
And now I smile more than I ever have in my life.
Just because you said it.
You told me once to go for my dream
And I did it.
Just because you said it.
Your words changed me into something different.
Better at times, worse at times.
Like an ebbing and flowing tide.
I rise.
I fall.
At your word.
You told me it tasted good once.
So now I serve it faithfully.
Just because you said you like it.
I listen to what you say
With my eyes closed.
With my head turned.
When I'm cursing and swearing
Seemingly not caring.
I'm listening to you.
I hear every word you say.
Every word you speak
Is a seed inside of me.
I'm pregnant.
Some seed didn't make it
But some took root
And when I give birth
You'll see
Just what the words you planted
Look like inside of me.
Be careful what you sow my love.
One day, you shall reap.
Let the words of your mouth
Be gentle.
Recognize their power and significance.
I'll carry them long after you speak them.
And some day soon, I will deliver.
The most beautiful gem
The biggest and the best gift
That I've ever received
Came from the thoughts of your mind
Committed to paper.
Typed in an email.
Scribed by hand.
Spoken through your lips.
How beautiful it is to receive
The words of a man to his woman.
The words that you speak
Lead me and feed me.
Please don't starve me
Of your words.
I need them.
They are necessary.
See how I smile
Just because you said it?
Ten girlfriends said the same thing today.
I barely noticed.
You said it once and changed my whole demeanor.
See how I wear it now because you said you like it?
See how I style it now, because you said you like it?
Your words have an effect on me.
I wish you could see it.
Do you know the power of your words on me?
They can get me through the day
Or keep me in bed.
Not wanting to eat, drink or shower.
Your words.
I wish you knew the power of them.
You told me once you loved it when I smiled
And now I smile more than I ever have in my life.
Just because you said it.
You told me once to go for my dream
And I did it.
Just because you said it.
Your words changed me into something different.
Better at times, worse at times.
Like an ebbing and flowing tide.
I rise.
I fall.
At your word.
You told me it tasted good once.
So now I serve it faithfully.
Just because you said you like it.
I listen to what you say
With my eyes closed.
With my head turned.
When I'm cursing and swearing
Seemingly not caring.
I'm listening to you.
I hear every word you say.
Every word you speak
Is a seed inside of me.
I'm pregnant.
Some seed didn't make it
But some took root
And when I give birth
You'll see
Just what the words you planted
Look like inside of me.
Be careful what you sow my love.
One day, you shall reap.
Let the words of your mouth
Be gentle.
Recognize their power and significance.
I'll carry them long after you speak them.
And some day soon, I will deliver.
Love 365 (Poem)
My idea of a perfect life.
My vision of an ideal world.
Not limited to holidays.
Not restricted by traditions.
Caring and concerned
Pure in form and in its application.
Thoughtful and meaningful.
All the time.
Not just on Sundays.
Not on holiday Mondays.
Not just on birthdays and anniversaries.
But constantly.
Always good.
Always giving.
Always doing..the good.
Always showing...the good.
Living out a divine mandate and command
Showing the world how it's done
Through the power of the Son.
Wanting to be in the space and place
Where love resides and abides
Where those who live and breathe here
Show love here
365 days a year.
My vision of an ideal world.
Not limited to holidays.
Not restricted by traditions.
Caring and concerned
Pure in form and in its application.
Thoughtful and meaningful.
All the time.
Not just on Sundays.
Not on holiday Mondays.
Not just on birthdays and anniversaries.
But constantly.
Always good.
Always giving.
Always doing..the good.
Always showing...the good.
Living out a divine mandate and command
Showing the world how it's done
Through the power of the Son.
Wanting to be in the space and place
Where love resides and abides
Where those who live and breathe here
Show love here
365 days a year.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
A Good Gift...
My children are so excited about Christmas. I know exactly how they're feeling. I was once their ages and I can remember the excitement of the holiday season and all the wonderful toys on display. Ever since October, they've been telling me what they want. I've been listening.
When I was probably around 8, no older than 10 years old, I had my heart set on a cabbage patch preemie doll. My mama knew how much I wanted that one doll. She saved her money, quarters, nickels and dimes, and took my sister and I to the mall. I saw the baby doll I wanted and asked my mama could I have him. She said something to the effect of, "I don't know. I'll have to see". What didn't know was that she had already planned on getting it for me. She just wanted me to pick out the one I wanted.
Finally, Christmas day came. Under the tree was my Cabbage Patch preemie doll. I was the happiest child on earth! I loved that doll with all my heart. I played with him constantly. He even went with us on family vacation. I'm 33 years old with children of my own but I'll never forget that gift as long as I live.
Why?
Because it was just what I wanted.
The bible tells us that if we delight ourselves in the Lord that He will give us the desires of our hearts. There's a difference between something we want and something we sincerely desire.
It changes our tone of voice.
It becomes the cry of our hearts, not just the cry of our lust.
My mama knew this doll was my desire. She could sense it.
The proof of this is the fact that I still have this doll, no holes or rips.
God knows exactly what our desires are. Not those things we lust after, just waiting to get our greeding hands on it so that we can devour it quickly and forget we ever had it once it's gone.
He knows those desires that if we were to ever receive them, we'd spend the rest of our lives being grateful and cherishing it.
This holiday season, as you exchange gifts and watch family and friends respond in gratitude to your generosity and thoughtfulness, remember that your Heavenly Father is also preparing good gifts for you. Gifts that will change your life forever.
Gifts that you will treasure.
Gifts that you'll spend the rest of your life being thankful for.
When I was probably around 8, no older than 10 years old, I had my heart set on a cabbage patch preemie doll. My mama knew how much I wanted that one doll. She saved her money, quarters, nickels and dimes, and took my sister and I to the mall. I saw the baby doll I wanted and asked my mama could I have him. She said something to the effect of, "I don't know. I'll have to see". What didn't know was that she had already planned on getting it for me. She just wanted me to pick out the one I wanted.
Finally, Christmas day came. Under the tree was my Cabbage Patch preemie doll. I was the happiest child on earth! I loved that doll with all my heart. I played with him constantly. He even went with us on family vacation. I'm 33 years old with children of my own but I'll never forget that gift as long as I live.
Why?
Because it was just what I wanted.
The bible tells us that if we delight ourselves in the Lord that He will give us the desires of our hearts. There's a difference between something we want and something we sincerely desire.
It changes our tone of voice.
It becomes the cry of our hearts, not just the cry of our lust.
My mama knew this doll was my desire. She could sense it.
The proof of this is the fact that I still have this doll, no holes or rips.
God knows exactly what our desires are. Not those things we lust after, just waiting to get our greeding hands on it so that we can devour it quickly and forget we ever had it once it's gone.
He knows those desires that if we were to ever receive them, we'd spend the rest of our lives being grateful and cherishing it.
This holiday season, as you exchange gifts and watch family and friends respond in gratitude to your generosity and thoughtfulness, remember that your Heavenly Father is also preparing good gifts for you. Gifts that will change your life forever.
Gifts that you will treasure.
Gifts that you'll spend the rest of your life being thankful for.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Why "I'm Sorry" Just Doesn't Cut It...
It's a shame I have to say this, but it's almost as if the world is in need of an "Apology 101" course! It's inevitable that we'll one day offend or be offended by someone. That's the price we pay for living in such close quarters on planet earth. But we've all received the ubiquitous "I'm sorry" from someone and looked at them with the side eye, and wanted to yell out "Seriously?!"
Some of us did yell that out.
Well, I think it's time to find out why merely saying "I'm sorry" can actually be doing more harm than good.
There are two types of offended people in the world: those who are waiting for an apology and those who will ask you for one. The first type is a lot harder to deal with because they expect you to know what you did, name it and make the first move. We've all been in this category before. So here's why saying "I'm sorry" to someone in this state of mind never works.
First, you're almost always sorry about the wrong thing.
That's why you get that frowned up nose, stare down that says "are you serious?!" or the complete dismissal.
You can't merely say "I'm sorry" to someone you know is upset with you. You must find out why they are offended. If they're not willing to tell you, let it go.
That's right. I said LET IT GO.
There's no reason to continue to hound someone who's in this head space. What you're actually doing is proving their point. I can almost guarantee you that every time you come around with the whiny, "Did I do something wrong? Did I offend you in any way?" They're looking at you and saying, "How clueless can you be?! You are so selfish!"
That's why it's best to leave it alone until they're ready to confront you with the offense.
If they never do, then here's the next thing you should do.
Apologize only for what is truly an offense and what you're sincerely sorry for.
We've all heard the person who will say something like, "I'm sorry for whatever it is I've done to you. If I've done anything to offend you, please forgive me".
Let me tell you quickly why this sucks.
First, what exactly are you sorry for? What's "anything"? Can you be more specific? If you can't, save the blanket, form letter apologies for your deathbed. This generalized apology only presents you as being self righteous and arrogant. For starts, you refuse to name what it is you're sorry for, thus leaving space to repeat whatever it is that you did in the first place. Bad idea. Make apologies specific and sincere. Example, "I'm really sorry for calling you that name yesterday. It was disrespectful and hurtful. I'm going to work on my temper and make sure that when I'm angry, I don't go on the attack verbally".
Now, that's an apology someone MIGHT listen to,
The second person is the one who will come to you and confront you with the offense. This is really the easiest type to deal with. They're spelling it out. They're taking you back to the scene of the crime. No CSI investigation needed. THIS is what you did wrong. Here's why merely saying "I'm sorry" to this type of person gets you nowhere.
Do you acknowledge why this situation offended them?
Yes, you said "I'm sorry" but that's not an acknowledgement, that's a benediction. Everyone knows that after the words "I'm sorry" escapes someone's lips, all conversation is supposed to cease.
You've taken back the manipulative power in the situation by dismissing them with an "I'm sorry". Now, if they continue to talk, you take the seat of power as the one offended. This is usually evident in the words, "I SAID I'm sorry, ok?!"
Oh, so YOU'RE mad now? lol!
Bottom line is when it comes to an apology, pride needs to take a back seat. It's amazing how we do our best to maintain our seats of pride when confronted with an offense or our wrongdoing. Sounds similar to our parents in the Garden, doesn't it? You gotta love those folks who apologize for being human, for being themselves and for all the other things you know they're really not sorry for. Gotta appreciate those precious souls who leave you feeling like you're the one who did them wrong, example "I'm sorry that when I speak the truth it bothers you and that you can't handle it". HAHA! You gotta be kidding me!
Have a seat!
But there's a better way to live and a better way to engage one another.
As I stated earlier, planet earth can be close quarters at times, so it's only fitting that we learn the art of righting wrongs in the spirit of humility and sincerity.
The next time you find yourself about to reach for the generic "I'm sorry for whatever I could have done..." or "If there's anything that I've done to offend you..." or the "I'm sorry, ok?! Geez..." think again.
That's not an apology. That's your pride talking.
And when someone's been hurt, pride is the last voice they need to hear.
For all those folks who have ever had such a pride laced apology thrown at them like a fiery dart, I say on their behalf, you can keep those to yourself.
It's doing way more harm than good.
Learn to love.
Some of us did yell that out.
Well, I think it's time to find out why merely saying "I'm sorry" can actually be doing more harm than good.
There are two types of offended people in the world: those who are waiting for an apology and those who will ask you for one. The first type is a lot harder to deal with because they expect you to know what you did, name it and make the first move. We've all been in this category before. So here's why saying "I'm sorry" to someone in this state of mind never works.
First, you're almost always sorry about the wrong thing.
That's why you get that frowned up nose, stare down that says "are you serious?!" or the complete dismissal.
You can't merely say "I'm sorry" to someone you know is upset with you. You must find out why they are offended. If they're not willing to tell you, let it go.
That's right. I said LET IT GO.
There's no reason to continue to hound someone who's in this head space. What you're actually doing is proving their point. I can almost guarantee you that every time you come around with the whiny, "Did I do something wrong? Did I offend you in any way?" They're looking at you and saying, "How clueless can you be?! You are so selfish!"
That's why it's best to leave it alone until they're ready to confront you with the offense.
If they never do, then here's the next thing you should do.
Apologize only for what is truly an offense and what you're sincerely sorry for.
We've all heard the person who will say something like, "I'm sorry for whatever it is I've done to you. If I've done anything to offend you, please forgive me".
Let me tell you quickly why this sucks.
First, what exactly are you sorry for? What's "anything"? Can you be more specific? If you can't, save the blanket, form letter apologies for your deathbed. This generalized apology only presents you as being self righteous and arrogant. For starts, you refuse to name what it is you're sorry for, thus leaving space to repeat whatever it is that you did in the first place. Bad idea. Make apologies specific and sincere. Example, "I'm really sorry for calling you that name yesterday. It was disrespectful and hurtful. I'm going to work on my temper and make sure that when I'm angry, I don't go on the attack verbally".
Now, that's an apology someone MIGHT listen to,
The second person is the one who will come to you and confront you with the offense. This is really the easiest type to deal with. They're spelling it out. They're taking you back to the scene of the crime. No CSI investigation needed. THIS is what you did wrong. Here's why merely saying "I'm sorry" to this type of person gets you nowhere.
Do you acknowledge why this situation offended them?
Yes, you said "I'm sorry" but that's not an acknowledgement, that's a benediction. Everyone knows that after the words "I'm sorry" escapes someone's lips, all conversation is supposed to cease.
You've taken back the manipulative power in the situation by dismissing them with an "I'm sorry". Now, if they continue to talk, you take the seat of power as the one offended. This is usually evident in the words, "I SAID I'm sorry, ok?!"
Oh, so YOU'RE mad now? lol!
Bottom line is when it comes to an apology, pride needs to take a back seat. It's amazing how we do our best to maintain our seats of pride when confronted with an offense or our wrongdoing. Sounds similar to our parents in the Garden, doesn't it? You gotta love those folks who apologize for being human, for being themselves and for all the other things you know they're really not sorry for. Gotta appreciate those precious souls who leave you feeling like you're the one who did them wrong, example "I'm sorry that when I speak the truth it bothers you and that you can't handle it". HAHA! You gotta be kidding me!
Have a seat!
But there's a better way to live and a better way to engage one another.
As I stated earlier, planet earth can be close quarters at times, so it's only fitting that we learn the art of righting wrongs in the spirit of humility and sincerity.
The next time you find yourself about to reach for the generic "I'm sorry for whatever I could have done..." or "If there's anything that I've done to offend you..." or the "I'm sorry, ok?! Geez..." think again.
That's not an apology. That's your pride talking.
And when someone's been hurt, pride is the last voice they need to hear.
For all those folks who have ever had such a pride laced apology thrown at them like a fiery dart, I say on their behalf, you can keep those to yourself.
It's doing way more harm than good.
Learn to love.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Critical Thinking...
I'm not sure how I became this way.
I was lying in my bed, maybe an hour or so ago. And my mind went back to a conversation I'd had with a dear friend last week. For the sake of her privacy, I won't name her name or even give the specifics of our conversation. But I will say that as we spoke, I found myself being subtly critical of her.
Now this is someone I love, admire and respect. How could I do this?
This isn't the first time I've done it nor the first time the Holy Spirit has brought it to my attention.
I have a very bad habit of being critical.
It's not the type of criticism that feels bad initially. No. If I were that type of critical, I'd have no friends at all. That's not the bad part. The bad part about it is that the criticism that I use attempts to make people second guess themselves and their decisions.
"That's a nice purse! Why so big though?" "I like your hair! You weren't scared to cut it so short?"
See how subtle that can be?
Those are fictional examples but they describe what I do- have done.
I don't want to be critical anymore.
Have you ever seen a picture of someone in an outfit not so flattering? Maybe it was a friend or loved one. Have you ever desired to say, "She looks a hot mess!"
I think that's pretty much the immediate reaction of us all.
But what would happen if there was a pause...and instead we said, "You know, I'm glad she's wearing something that makes her happy and makes her feel good. So what I don't particularly care for it?! I'm glad she can wear what she likes"?
Wow.
Totally different vibe, huh?
Sometimes the most powerful Word from heaven can be "so what"?
So what you don't like his suit or her choice of dresses.
So what you wouldn't have done that if it were you.
Guess what? It's NOT you. Get over yourself.
If it were you, you'd probably do much worse!
I don't want to be a critical friend, sister, mom.
It's not fun when the Holy Spirit turns His spotlight on your faults but it's so necessary.
I want to be a better version of me.
When people are around me, I want them to feel better about themselves, not doubt themselves.
I want to end the legacy of criticism that was passed down to me.
I don't have to police every one's choices and help them to second guess their decisions.
Just because that's how I was treated doesn't mean that needs to be passed on to others.
It ends with me.
Love begins today.
The Holy Spirit is teaching me how to love.
We say we want to love but loving the way God does isn't easy.
It requires you to give up some things.
There's nothing wrong with giving your opinion if someone asks for it.
But that's the key...did they even ask?
Why are you standing ready to dispense your critique like a vending machine?
Who cares what you think?
Seriously?
Why would you rather someone feel insecure than self confident?
Ok, so you wouldn't come out of the house looking like that. But your brother or sister did.
Can you find a way to celebrate that?
She's smiling from ear to ear in a dress you can't stand.
Can you appreciate her smile before you criticize her dress?
Hmm.
I've got a lot of work to do. Being critical runs deep with me.
I never considered myself to be a mean girl.
But just because you can be polite, doesn't say that you're not mean.
I can be polite. The Holy Spirit knows this.
Now He's teaching me how to love.
Big difference.
I was lying in my bed, maybe an hour or so ago. And my mind went back to a conversation I'd had with a dear friend last week. For the sake of her privacy, I won't name her name or even give the specifics of our conversation. But I will say that as we spoke, I found myself being subtly critical of her.
Now this is someone I love, admire and respect. How could I do this?
This isn't the first time I've done it nor the first time the Holy Spirit has brought it to my attention.
I have a very bad habit of being critical.
It's not the type of criticism that feels bad initially. No. If I were that type of critical, I'd have no friends at all. That's not the bad part. The bad part about it is that the criticism that I use attempts to make people second guess themselves and their decisions.
"That's a nice purse! Why so big though?" "I like your hair! You weren't scared to cut it so short?"
See how subtle that can be?
Those are fictional examples but they describe what I do- have done.
I don't want to be critical anymore.
Have you ever seen a picture of someone in an outfit not so flattering? Maybe it was a friend or loved one. Have you ever desired to say, "She looks a hot mess!"
I think that's pretty much the immediate reaction of us all.
But what would happen if there was a pause...and instead we said, "You know, I'm glad she's wearing something that makes her happy and makes her feel good. So what I don't particularly care for it?! I'm glad she can wear what she likes"?
Wow.
Totally different vibe, huh?
Sometimes the most powerful Word from heaven can be "so what"?
So what you don't like his suit or her choice of dresses.
So what you wouldn't have done that if it were you.
Guess what? It's NOT you. Get over yourself.
If it were you, you'd probably do much worse!
I don't want to be a critical friend, sister, mom.
It's not fun when the Holy Spirit turns His spotlight on your faults but it's so necessary.
I want to be a better version of me.
When people are around me, I want them to feel better about themselves, not doubt themselves.
I want to end the legacy of criticism that was passed down to me.
I don't have to police every one's choices and help them to second guess their decisions.
Just because that's how I was treated doesn't mean that needs to be passed on to others.
It ends with me.
Love begins today.
The Holy Spirit is teaching me how to love.
We say we want to love but loving the way God does isn't easy.
It requires you to give up some things.
There's nothing wrong with giving your opinion if someone asks for it.
But that's the key...did they even ask?
Why are you standing ready to dispense your critique like a vending machine?
Who cares what you think?
Seriously?
Why would you rather someone feel insecure than self confident?
Ok, so you wouldn't come out of the house looking like that. But your brother or sister did.
Can you find a way to celebrate that?
She's smiling from ear to ear in a dress you can't stand.
Can you appreciate her smile before you criticize her dress?
Hmm.
I've got a lot of work to do. Being critical runs deep with me.
I never considered myself to be a mean girl.
But just because you can be polite, doesn't say that you're not mean.
I can be polite. The Holy Spirit knows this.
Now He's teaching me how to love.
Big difference.
Poem: The Silent Treatment
Good morning everyone. It's exactly 4:21 a.m. and I'm feeling a creative writing flow. I just had to go with it. There's more coming.
The Silent Treatment
Yell at me.
Scream at me.
I don't like it, but I need it.
It's better than the silence escaping your lips.
It's better than what your noiseless conversation is telling me.
Say something, even in anger.
That will tell me where you are, and where I need to be.
But you give me silence.
Weighty, deafening silence.
You ignore my calls.
Leave my emails unread.
You delete my text messages.
It's starting to mess with my head.
I'm breaking my own rules, things I said I'd never do.
Just to hear from you.
Say something.
I know you're mad at me.
I know you're frustrated.
But what if you're not?
What if I'm wrong?
What if this is just how you feel now?
Neither hot, nor cold.
Just lukewarm, indifferent.
Irrelevant.
Unimportant.
Unneeded.
Say something.
Anything.
I'd rather you scream at me.
Than be silent forever.
Please talk to me.
The Silent Treatment
Yell at me.
Scream at me.
I don't like it, but I need it.
It's better than the silence escaping your lips.
It's better than what your noiseless conversation is telling me.
Say something, even in anger.
That will tell me where you are, and where I need to be.
But you give me silence.
Weighty, deafening silence.
You ignore my calls.
Leave my emails unread.
You delete my text messages.
It's starting to mess with my head.
I'm breaking my own rules, things I said I'd never do.
Just to hear from you.
Say something.
I know you're mad at me.
I know you're frustrated.
But what if you're not?
What if I'm wrong?
What if this is just how you feel now?
Neither hot, nor cold.
Just lukewarm, indifferent.
Irrelevant.
Unimportant.
Unneeded.
Say something.
Anything.
I'd rather you scream at me.
Than be silent forever.
Please talk to me.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Clutter Kills...
Yesterday, my mom asked me to drive her to the home of an elderly woman who needed her house cleaned. Mama has a "cleaning anointing", if there is such a thing. All my life, I've known mama to have the ability to make a place sparkle with even the most basic of cleaning supplies. So it's no surprise that word of her abilities sort of travels.
I dropped her off at the woman's home and returned after a couple of hours. When mama got in the car, I could tell she was frustrated. She began to tell me how the home was nothing like she anticipated and that the biggest issue was the clutter.
Hmm.
She said there was stuff everywhere, even in the bathtub. Stuff was piled on top of the kitchen table, leaving the table useless. Stuff was piled on top of the kitchen counters, leaving the counter tops useless.
There were clothes everywhere that clearly weren't being worn but were taking up space in the bedroom..
There was even a MOUSE!
Ok, that right there would have sent me running for the hills, but my mama is a good ol' country woman who's seen her fair share of rodents and other such creeping things.
After listening to my mother describe this home, I couldn't help but realize just how deadly clutter can be.
Here was an elderly woman almost entombed by clutter. She couldn't bathe in her own tub. She couldn't prepare meals in her own kitchen. Clutter had changed the original purpose and intent of her furniture and living spaces. I said to my mama, "Imagine how much better she'd feel if all that stuff was gone and her space was clean? Imagine how much brighter the house would feel and her health might even start improving".
Mama agreed.
I also agreed.
We may not live like hoarders, surrounded by piles upon piles of things we'll never get around to using in our lifetimes, but oftentimes, our hearts and minds are cluttered. We strain under the weight of past relationships, grudges, animosity and spite. We shoulder the burden of trying to maintain relationships that have stopped being mutually beneficial. We pump resources into things that take up space but change the purpose of what they're resting on. Clutter changes you. It takes away your ability to be who you are.
It's time to let some things go.
Mama mentioned how she was only able to throw away a small grocery bag full of trash because the woman was so emotionally attached to her clutter.
How sad it is when trash becomes our treasure.
How very tragic it is when we can't even see how the things we're straining to hold on to are actually the source of our unhappiness and sometimes, our poor health.
Oh, and let's not forget about dear Mr. Mouse! I told mom that the reason the woman couldn't catch him was because he had plenty of places to hide! Clutter not only makes you a prisoner of your own home, it creates a home for things you really don't want; disgusting things. Harmful things. Pests and scavenging things. Clutter keeps dirty little secrets well fortified until they erode everything around them.
I'm not telling you to spend your weekend cleaning out your closet or your garage, even though you're welcome to do that if you wish. It's a start. But I am suggesting that we all spend a little time looking at our lives and identifying the clutter. Maybe it's a job that you know pays the bills but is costing you your health and your good years with your family. Maybe it's that relationship that takes up space in your life but it's toxic and leaves you feeling like you're worthless. Maybe it's that addiction that you've tried to deny for a very long time but now, it's becoming so big, you can barely contain it. Whatever it is, think about that elderly woman my mother tried to help yesterday.
Think about how she's living in a home she can't even bathe in, a kitchen she can't cook in and a table she can't eat on. Think about how clutter is slowly choking the life out of her.
And when you do, decide that piece by piece, and bit by bit, it's time to let go of the clutter in your life...
Before it kills you.
I dropped her off at the woman's home and returned after a couple of hours. When mama got in the car, I could tell she was frustrated. She began to tell me how the home was nothing like she anticipated and that the biggest issue was the clutter.
Hmm.
She said there was stuff everywhere, even in the bathtub. Stuff was piled on top of the kitchen table, leaving the table useless. Stuff was piled on top of the kitchen counters, leaving the counter tops useless.
There were clothes everywhere that clearly weren't being worn but were taking up space in the bedroom..
There was even a MOUSE!
Ok, that right there would have sent me running for the hills, but my mama is a good ol' country woman who's seen her fair share of rodents and other such creeping things.
After listening to my mother describe this home, I couldn't help but realize just how deadly clutter can be.
Here was an elderly woman almost entombed by clutter. She couldn't bathe in her own tub. She couldn't prepare meals in her own kitchen. Clutter had changed the original purpose and intent of her furniture and living spaces. I said to my mama, "Imagine how much better she'd feel if all that stuff was gone and her space was clean? Imagine how much brighter the house would feel and her health might even start improving".
Mama agreed.
I also agreed.
We may not live like hoarders, surrounded by piles upon piles of things we'll never get around to using in our lifetimes, but oftentimes, our hearts and minds are cluttered. We strain under the weight of past relationships, grudges, animosity and spite. We shoulder the burden of trying to maintain relationships that have stopped being mutually beneficial. We pump resources into things that take up space but change the purpose of what they're resting on. Clutter changes you. It takes away your ability to be who you are.
It's time to let some things go.
Mama mentioned how she was only able to throw away a small grocery bag full of trash because the woman was so emotionally attached to her clutter.
How sad it is when trash becomes our treasure.
How very tragic it is when we can't even see how the things we're straining to hold on to are actually the source of our unhappiness and sometimes, our poor health.
Oh, and let's not forget about dear Mr. Mouse! I told mom that the reason the woman couldn't catch him was because he had plenty of places to hide! Clutter not only makes you a prisoner of your own home, it creates a home for things you really don't want; disgusting things. Harmful things. Pests and scavenging things. Clutter keeps dirty little secrets well fortified until they erode everything around them.
I'm not telling you to spend your weekend cleaning out your closet or your garage, even though you're welcome to do that if you wish. It's a start. But I am suggesting that we all spend a little time looking at our lives and identifying the clutter. Maybe it's a job that you know pays the bills but is costing you your health and your good years with your family. Maybe it's that relationship that takes up space in your life but it's toxic and leaves you feeling like you're worthless. Maybe it's that addiction that you've tried to deny for a very long time but now, it's becoming so big, you can barely contain it. Whatever it is, think about that elderly woman my mother tried to help yesterday.
Think about how she's living in a home she can't even bathe in, a kitchen she can't cook in and a table she can't eat on. Think about how clutter is slowly choking the life out of her.
And when you do, decide that piece by piece, and bit by bit, it's time to let go of the clutter in your life...
Before it kills you.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
I Forgot...
It all started with a facebook status announcing the death of an instructor at The Fine Arts Center.
Although I was not a choral student, several of my classmates were, and as small as the Fine Arts Center was, it was hard not to interface with other students and faculty at some point.
The Fine Arts Center....
Wow.
Suddenly, almost 15 years worth of memories began to rush back.
Not only did I know about this place, I was once a student there myself.
Visual arts.
My high school Art teacher saw some potential in me and encouraged me to apply. He helped me to assemble a portfolio and I filled out my application. I was given an interview. Note worthy instructors reviewed my work.
I was accepted into the program.
I studied under the best in the Upstate: metal, enamel, oil, acrylic, charcoal...
My classmates were prodigies.
Almost with the same sort of "hunch", another teacher, this time, an English teacher, saw potential in me and asked me had I considered going to college.
The short answer to her question was "No".
College wasn't even on my radar. My biggest dream at the time was to be a cosmetologist.
I thought I wanted to do hair.
It seemed like a reasonable enough goal and I was more than willing to give it a try.
But she wouldn't let up.
Finally, she sweetened the deal and told me that she would personally write my letter of recommendation to the colleges of my choice and encourage other faculty members to do so for me.
I applied to colleges I'd never even heard of before: Elon, William and Mary, Columbia, Agnes Scott.
By the end of my senior year, I was accepted to two colleges, Columbia and Agnes Scott, receiving awards from both.
I was even given a letter of congratulations by the then State Senator.
Who's Who Among America's High School Students.
American Legion Award.
And I'd forgotten about all of it.
The sad part about it is that I forgot all of those accomplishments as they happened.
I was startled as the memories suddenly came flooding back to me while reading the facebook status.
I realize now that the impact of those achievements was cushioned by a heavy layer of low self esteem and an environment that could not and would not celebrate me.
I forgot that part of my life, almost completely.
What's the point of throwing a celebration party if you're the only one there?
So I stopped celebrating.
After going as far as I could at Agnes Scott on my own with little guidance and even less support, I ran out of money and returned home to South Carolina. And that's when I turned on the auto pilot.
The next 12 years of my life would be filled with almost an aimless existence, still reeling from disappointment for the college career I couldn't finish and the goals I'd never achieved.
I can't even tell you what my goal for college was.
I was there. I attended classes. I'd decided on English as my major.
But I had no idea what to do with such a major.
I declared it because it was just something to do and of all my courses, English was my strongest.
I didn't have any direction.
Two teachers in high school saw enormous promise in me.
But I couldn't see it in myself.
I didn't know how to take the ball that was given to me and run with it.
For a while, I just sort of stared at it, held it and admired it. Then after a while, I tucked it away and forgot it was there.
When I realized what I had, I took it out and saw that the ball I was given was a little flat, no bounce.
At 33 years old, I can't help but be reflective. It's unfortunate that it took the death of a very influential instructor and musician to jog my memory, but that's precisely what happened. As I read his facebook wall, I saw the countless lives he impacted with his passion for music and love for bright and talented students. I saw the heartfelt grief. I also saw an amazing legacy that will stand the test of time.
I pulled the gold and black onyx ring out of my jewelry box.
Few know I even own it.
Even less know what it truly represents.
The gold ring with the rectangle shaped onyx stone is a class ring from Agnes Scott College that spans generations. You will find women who graduated in the 1930's and 40's with this same ring on their finger. Each woman receives this ring in a ceremony her sophomore year. As hard as it is for me to believe that I achieved this honor of standing with thousands of women, young and old, the evidence is on my finger today.
No one came to my ceremony. I'm thankful I was able to plead and beg my parents enough to give me the money to purchase the ring. Maybe it was the tone of my voice. My mother heard me. She understood. I'm appreciative that she was able to help persuade my dad to buy it for me. But I stood to receive it alone. I can still remember the sound of the pipe organ as it roared in grandeur to salute our achievement. I remember walking down the side walk, back to my dorm, ring on my finger.
I didn't have a high school class ring.
But I now had a college ring.
How cool was I?
Somehow, I managed to keep up with the ring through moving from my dorm, then from my aunt's home, then back to South Carolina, and several times within my home state. Somehow, I managed to preserve this piece of my history. Last year, I took it out again, had it cleaned and sized and wore it to my first ever Alumnae Weekend.
No, I didn't graduate with a degree.
But I graduated with much more.
My return to campus last year felt like I was coming full circle. As my former classmates mixed and mingled, chatting and participating in various activities set up for alums, I took the time to wander off by myself.
I walked the sidewalk I'd walked 15 years before as a young, and clueless teenager, not even sure how she ended up where she was. I had the grades. I had the awards. I had the letters of recommendation. But inside, I didn't have the gift of knowing that I was good enough just as I was. I didn't believe any of the awards that told me I was great. I didn't hear any of the compliments that told me my work was special and significant.
I couldn't hear, and I couldn't see.
As I walked the campus grounds, as a mother of two, arms loaded with triumphs and a few tragedies, some successes and quite a few failures...
I admired the azaleas. I took off my shoes and walked on the grassy quad, something I'm not sure I'd ever done as a teenager. I walked into the bookstore and made a few purchases. I observed the new student body, casually loafing, some in jeans and pajama bottoms as I and my former classmates used to do. I talked with first year students. I marveled at their amazing sense of focus and direction. They had dreams. They had a plan. They had a vision for their lives. They had the ball and they weren't dropping it. I smiled as I left them. I realized that they would see many things in their lives, many joys, sorrows and disappointments. But I prayed that they'd never lose their ability to fight for what they believed in and when no one else would, to believe in themselves. As I walked away from the future, I understood what it feels like to be an alum for the first time, to see people walking the same path you once walked, and soon faced with the same choices and distractions you were once faced with.
That day I made peace with my past and I let my dream of returning to the campus as a student die.
Agnes Scott taught me everything I needed to know for the time I was there. The experience was a foreshadowing of the life that was to come and this was the prophecy: "You'll work very hard. There will be many mistakes and also, many achievements. This opportunity is yours to own. Some days will be hard and you'll wonder how you'll make it. But all around you, there will be beauty. There will be majestic monuments to human achievement all around you. There will be grassy places for your feet to rest. You'll see flowers bloom and for all the hard work, the pain and the sacrifice, there will be a beautiful classroom to learn all of your lessons in".
But greater still is the lesson I learned from the ring itself.
I made it to my sophomore year. I earned the ring.
There were and still are many women who do not earn their degree from Agnes Scott College and there are those who don't earn a degree at all. But this school recognizes the achievement of beginning. You started here. You made it this far. You earned the ring. No matter where I go in the United States or around the world, if I see this same ring on any woman's finger, black or white, rich or poor, young or old... you know where she started. We all started at the same place. We're a part of an elite sisterhood that only takes a ring to confirm. For the first time, I'd experienced a celebration for a good beginning and 15 years later, I'm ready to continue that tradition in my own life.
So yea, I forgot about 15 years of my life. I'm not spending a lot of time trying to remember it either.
If anything, I want to spend the next 15 trying to top it. No, everything I've started hasn't always ended well. But it's time I started celebrating the triumph that is beginning.
If God can do all of that for a young teenage girl who didn't even know what she had or how to even begin to be grateful for it, imagine what he can do for a woman who now counts her blessings and names them one by one?
I'm looking forward to my future.
It's never to late to figure out where you want to be in life and to start again.
Yes, life is hard with baggage...kids, car notes, mortgages, break up's...
But alums from the school of hard knocks used to tell me on Sunday morning when I was a little girl: "Jesus is a burden bearer and a heavy load sharer".
It's never, ever too late to be who He made you to be and who you know you can be.
Never.
Although I was not a choral student, several of my classmates were, and as small as the Fine Arts Center was, it was hard not to interface with other students and faculty at some point.
The Fine Arts Center....
Wow.
Suddenly, almost 15 years worth of memories began to rush back.
Not only did I know about this place, I was once a student there myself.
Visual arts.
My high school Art teacher saw some potential in me and encouraged me to apply. He helped me to assemble a portfolio and I filled out my application. I was given an interview. Note worthy instructors reviewed my work.
I was accepted into the program.
I studied under the best in the Upstate: metal, enamel, oil, acrylic, charcoal...
My classmates were prodigies.
Almost with the same sort of "hunch", another teacher, this time, an English teacher, saw potential in me and asked me had I considered going to college.
The short answer to her question was "No".
College wasn't even on my radar. My biggest dream at the time was to be a cosmetologist.
I thought I wanted to do hair.
It seemed like a reasonable enough goal and I was more than willing to give it a try.
But she wouldn't let up.
Finally, she sweetened the deal and told me that she would personally write my letter of recommendation to the colleges of my choice and encourage other faculty members to do so for me.
I applied to colleges I'd never even heard of before: Elon, William and Mary, Columbia, Agnes Scott.
By the end of my senior year, I was accepted to two colleges, Columbia and Agnes Scott, receiving awards from both.
I was even given a letter of congratulations by the then State Senator.
Who's Who Among America's High School Students.
American Legion Award.
And I'd forgotten about all of it.
The sad part about it is that I forgot all of those accomplishments as they happened.
I was startled as the memories suddenly came flooding back to me while reading the facebook status.
I realize now that the impact of those achievements was cushioned by a heavy layer of low self esteem and an environment that could not and would not celebrate me.
I forgot that part of my life, almost completely.
What's the point of throwing a celebration party if you're the only one there?
So I stopped celebrating.
After going as far as I could at Agnes Scott on my own with little guidance and even less support, I ran out of money and returned home to South Carolina. And that's when I turned on the auto pilot.
The next 12 years of my life would be filled with almost an aimless existence, still reeling from disappointment for the college career I couldn't finish and the goals I'd never achieved.
I can't even tell you what my goal for college was.
I was there. I attended classes. I'd decided on English as my major.
But I had no idea what to do with such a major.
I declared it because it was just something to do and of all my courses, English was my strongest.
I didn't have any direction.
Two teachers in high school saw enormous promise in me.
But I couldn't see it in myself.
I didn't know how to take the ball that was given to me and run with it.
For a while, I just sort of stared at it, held it and admired it. Then after a while, I tucked it away and forgot it was there.
When I realized what I had, I took it out and saw that the ball I was given was a little flat, no bounce.
At 33 years old, I can't help but be reflective. It's unfortunate that it took the death of a very influential instructor and musician to jog my memory, but that's precisely what happened. As I read his facebook wall, I saw the countless lives he impacted with his passion for music and love for bright and talented students. I saw the heartfelt grief. I also saw an amazing legacy that will stand the test of time.
I pulled the gold and black onyx ring out of my jewelry box.
Few know I even own it.
Even less know what it truly represents.
The gold ring with the rectangle shaped onyx stone is a class ring from Agnes Scott College that spans generations. You will find women who graduated in the 1930's and 40's with this same ring on their finger. Each woman receives this ring in a ceremony her sophomore year. As hard as it is for me to believe that I achieved this honor of standing with thousands of women, young and old, the evidence is on my finger today.
No one came to my ceremony. I'm thankful I was able to plead and beg my parents enough to give me the money to purchase the ring. Maybe it was the tone of my voice. My mother heard me. She understood. I'm appreciative that she was able to help persuade my dad to buy it for me. But I stood to receive it alone. I can still remember the sound of the pipe organ as it roared in grandeur to salute our achievement. I remember walking down the side walk, back to my dorm, ring on my finger.
I didn't have a high school class ring.
But I now had a college ring.
How cool was I?
Somehow, I managed to keep up with the ring through moving from my dorm, then from my aunt's home, then back to South Carolina, and several times within my home state. Somehow, I managed to preserve this piece of my history. Last year, I took it out again, had it cleaned and sized and wore it to my first ever Alumnae Weekend.
No, I didn't graduate with a degree.
But I graduated with much more.
My return to campus last year felt like I was coming full circle. As my former classmates mixed and mingled, chatting and participating in various activities set up for alums, I took the time to wander off by myself.
I walked the sidewalk I'd walked 15 years before as a young, and clueless teenager, not even sure how she ended up where she was. I had the grades. I had the awards. I had the letters of recommendation. But inside, I didn't have the gift of knowing that I was good enough just as I was. I didn't believe any of the awards that told me I was great. I didn't hear any of the compliments that told me my work was special and significant.
I couldn't hear, and I couldn't see.
 |
| The McCain Library, Agnes Scott College |
As I walked the campus grounds, as a mother of two, arms loaded with triumphs and a few tragedies, some successes and quite a few failures...
I admired the azaleas. I took off my shoes and walked on the grassy quad, something I'm not sure I'd ever done as a teenager. I walked into the bookstore and made a few purchases. I observed the new student body, casually loafing, some in jeans and pajama bottoms as I and my former classmates used to do. I talked with first year students. I marveled at their amazing sense of focus and direction. They had dreams. They had a plan. They had a vision for their lives. They had the ball and they weren't dropping it. I smiled as I left them. I realized that they would see many things in their lives, many joys, sorrows and disappointments. But I prayed that they'd never lose their ability to fight for what they believed in and when no one else would, to believe in themselves. As I walked away from the future, I understood what it feels like to be an alum for the first time, to see people walking the same path you once walked, and soon faced with the same choices and distractions you were once faced with.
That day I made peace with my past and I let my dream of returning to the campus as a student die.
Agnes Scott taught me everything I needed to know for the time I was there. The experience was a foreshadowing of the life that was to come and this was the prophecy: "You'll work very hard. There will be many mistakes and also, many achievements. This opportunity is yours to own. Some days will be hard and you'll wonder how you'll make it. But all around you, there will be beauty. There will be majestic monuments to human achievement all around you. There will be grassy places for your feet to rest. You'll see flowers bloom and for all the hard work, the pain and the sacrifice, there will be a beautiful classroom to learn all of your lessons in".
But greater still is the lesson I learned from the ring itself.
I made it to my sophomore year. I earned the ring.
There were and still are many women who do not earn their degree from Agnes Scott College and there are those who don't earn a degree at all. But this school recognizes the achievement of beginning. You started here. You made it this far. You earned the ring. No matter where I go in the United States or around the world, if I see this same ring on any woman's finger, black or white, rich or poor, young or old... you know where she started. We all started at the same place. We're a part of an elite sisterhood that only takes a ring to confirm. For the first time, I'd experienced a celebration for a good beginning and 15 years later, I'm ready to continue that tradition in my own life.
So yea, I forgot about 15 years of my life. I'm not spending a lot of time trying to remember it either.
If anything, I want to spend the next 15 trying to top it. No, everything I've started hasn't always ended well. But it's time I started celebrating the triumph that is beginning.
If God can do all of that for a young teenage girl who didn't even know what she had or how to even begin to be grateful for it, imagine what he can do for a woman who now counts her blessings and names them one by one?
I'm looking forward to my future.
It's never to late to figure out where you want to be in life and to start again.
Yes, life is hard with baggage...kids, car notes, mortgages, break up's...
But alums from the school of hard knocks used to tell me on Sunday morning when I was a little girl: "Jesus is a burden bearer and a heavy load sharer".
It's never, ever too late to be who He made you to be and who you know you can be.
Never.
Monday, December 12, 2011
I Need Him...
I can't emphasize the importance of prayer to a mother's life.
There are so many things that we face emotionally and circumstantially that without His guidance, we will never see which way to go.
We need Him to direct us and help us to focus on things that matter most.
We need Him to show us those hidden little issues that are just waiting to become greater ones.
We need Him to show us who to trust around our children and who to avoid.
We need Him for everything, including our own sanity when all of the children are sick and we are too.
We need Him when the money's spent and all of the bills are due!
We need Him when the gas light comes on in the car and we've used the last diaper in the bag.
We need Him when husband or boyfriend walks out on his responsibilities.
We need Him when we want to love again.
We need Him when we're ready to start over again.
We need Him to help make sense of everything we've ever been through.
Without Him....
We moms can do nothing.
He's the only reason I'm standing today.
I pray that you'll find Him to be everything that you need.
There are so many things that we face emotionally and circumstantially that without His guidance, we will never see which way to go.
We need Him to direct us and help us to focus on things that matter most.
We need Him to show us those hidden little issues that are just waiting to become greater ones.
We need Him to show us who to trust around our children and who to avoid.
We need Him for everything, including our own sanity when all of the children are sick and we are too.
We need Him when the money's spent and all of the bills are due!
We need Him when the gas light comes on in the car and we've used the last diaper in the bag.
We need Him when husband or boyfriend walks out on his responsibilities.
We need Him when we want to love again.
We need Him when we're ready to start over again.
We need Him to help make sense of everything we've ever been through.
Without Him....
We moms can do nothing.
He's the only reason I'm standing today.
I pray that you'll find Him to be everything that you need.
Monday, December 05, 2011
Where's My Christmas Spirit?
Is it really December and are we really staring Christmas in the face?!
I typically love this time of year but honestly, the last two or three years haven't felt that "Christmasy".
For starts, the WEATHER. I do live in the South but even my area experiences cold weather. We've only seen a couple of near freezing temperatures and a couple of mornings of frost.
I'm not used to the sunny Florida temps we've been blessed with lately but I'm thankful for them..It's just hard to associate Christmas with warm weather.
And then there's this business of decorating. It seems like I'm the only one in my house inclined to haul the tree out of the garage and start the task of assembling the tree and hanging decorations.
Now do you see why it's still in the garage?
But the kiddies want a tree. I wouldn't mind a tree, I just mind the WORK involved in putting it up and taking it down. I think last year, it was almost February before it came down.
Let's not forget the shopping for Christmas gifts.
I haven't even started.
I don't know what's wrong!
I'm not a scrooge or anything of the sort. I just don't feel all the holiday cheer. It seems too soon and contrived. I wince at Christmas music. It feels out of season.
I wouldn't mind celebrating if it actually felt like Christmas to me.
But it doesn't.
Most likely, I'll bite the bullet and haul that tree out of the garage and start my work. I love making my babies smile and seeing their faces light up with all things Christmas. I loved Christmas lights as a child and honestly, I still do to an extent.
I'll be getting into the swing of Christmas soon, even if I am a couple of weeks late.
Basically, we're all just trying to hang on until Christmas break when the children are out of school for two weeks. Matt and Cait are super excited about Christmas and the older they get, the greater their anticipation grows. The Sunday paper causes mayhem in my house! Toy ads lay strewn all over the house while they each chirp, "Mommy, I want this, ok? Ok mommy?"
And while I love gift giving and buying gifts for my children, I also haven't overly emphasized it.
I'm not anti gift giving at all. I think we can go to the extreme sometimes as believers and folks who are anti holidays. But I believe there's nothing wrong with giving gifts. The true joy comes not in quantity but when you get just what you wanted. And that's what I've been listening out to hear. My children's desires change CONSTANTLY but as they chatter among themselves, I occasionally hear them say to each other the things they really want for Christmas. Those will be under the tree.
So I guess I'll get myself pumped up and ready to haul this tree out tomorrow.
At least if I don't put it up, we can trip over the box all week long. :)
I typically love this time of year but honestly, the last two or three years haven't felt that "Christmasy".
For starts, the WEATHER. I do live in the South but even my area experiences cold weather. We've only seen a couple of near freezing temperatures and a couple of mornings of frost.
I'm not used to the sunny Florida temps we've been blessed with lately but I'm thankful for them..It's just hard to associate Christmas with warm weather.
And then there's this business of decorating. It seems like I'm the only one in my house inclined to haul the tree out of the garage and start the task of assembling the tree and hanging decorations.
Now do you see why it's still in the garage?
But the kiddies want a tree. I wouldn't mind a tree, I just mind the WORK involved in putting it up and taking it down. I think last year, it was almost February before it came down.
Let's not forget the shopping for Christmas gifts.
I haven't even started.
I don't know what's wrong!
I'm not a scrooge or anything of the sort. I just don't feel all the holiday cheer. It seems too soon and contrived. I wince at Christmas music. It feels out of season.
I wouldn't mind celebrating if it actually felt like Christmas to me.
But it doesn't.
Most likely, I'll bite the bullet and haul that tree out of the garage and start my work. I love making my babies smile and seeing their faces light up with all things Christmas. I loved Christmas lights as a child and honestly, I still do to an extent.
I'll be getting into the swing of Christmas soon, even if I am a couple of weeks late.
Basically, we're all just trying to hang on until Christmas break when the children are out of school for two weeks. Matt and Cait are super excited about Christmas and the older they get, the greater their anticipation grows. The Sunday paper causes mayhem in my house! Toy ads lay strewn all over the house while they each chirp, "Mommy, I want this, ok? Ok mommy?"
And while I love gift giving and buying gifts for my children, I also haven't overly emphasized it.
I'm not anti gift giving at all. I think we can go to the extreme sometimes as believers and folks who are anti holidays. But I believe there's nothing wrong with giving gifts. The true joy comes not in quantity but when you get just what you wanted. And that's what I've been listening out to hear. My children's desires change CONSTANTLY but as they chatter among themselves, I occasionally hear them say to each other the things they really want for Christmas. Those will be under the tree.
So I guess I'll get myself pumped up and ready to haul this tree out tomorrow.
At least if I don't put it up, we can trip over the box all week long. :)
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Accepted...
I didn't know that religion wouldn't and couldn't be a cure for the need to feel accepted.
It's been a lifelong struggle of mine.
I did everything my young mind could think of to be accepted by the ones whose opinions mattered most to me.
They didn't seem to notice.
He never really seemed to accept me at face value.
There was always something I had to do or to change.
Something I needed to say or stop saying.
I just wanted to be accepted.
I didn't know that religion, which promised to bring me acceptance into the brotherhood of fellow religious followers would ultimately leave me feeling even more alone.
When I didn't make it to all of the scheduled services...
When my tithes and offerings fell short...
When I didn't say, do or perform up to expectations...
I was no longer accepted.
When I entered relationships, I kept waiting to hear him say, "I approve. I accept you".
Guy.
After guy.
After guy.
They liked my curves, my smile, my cooking...
But I never felt accepted.
There have been some emotional battles that I've had to fight these past couple of years. Some I've fought valiantly and others, I felt as if I barely escaped with my sanity.
I tried repeatedly to get him to tell me he accepted me.
And then the Holy Spirit whispered to me...
"You are accepted by Me".
Maybe that doesn't mean much to you, but to me, it's like a prison door swinging open on rusty hinges.
I don't have to continue looking for acceptance.
I AM accepted.
In Him...
The Beloved.
And so are You.
Accept His acceptance today.
It's been a lifelong struggle of mine.
I did everything my young mind could think of to be accepted by the ones whose opinions mattered most to me.
They didn't seem to notice.
He never really seemed to accept me at face value.
There was always something I had to do or to change.
Something I needed to say or stop saying.
I just wanted to be accepted.
I didn't know that religion, which promised to bring me acceptance into the brotherhood of fellow religious followers would ultimately leave me feeling even more alone.
When I didn't make it to all of the scheduled services...
When my tithes and offerings fell short...
When I didn't say, do or perform up to expectations...
I was no longer accepted.
When I entered relationships, I kept waiting to hear him say, "I approve. I accept you".
Guy.
After guy.
After guy.
They liked my curves, my smile, my cooking...
But I never felt accepted.
There have been some emotional battles that I've had to fight these past couple of years. Some I've fought valiantly and others, I felt as if I barely escaped with my sanity.
I tried repeatedly to get him to tell me he accepted me.
And then the Holy Spirit whispered to me...
"You are accepted by Me".
Maybe that doesn't mean much to you, but to me, it's like a prison door swinging open on rusty hinges.
I don't have to continue looking for acceptance.
I AM accepted.
In Him...
The Beloved.
And so are You.
Accept His acceptance today.
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