Better Things

Ok. I really don't feel like writing this and that's precisely why I'm writing it. It's easy to write blogs that are full of hope and inspiration. It's easy to encourage someone when you're encouraged. It's easy to tell someone what to do to make it through a tough place.
It's not so easy when it's your time and your turn.
One of the hardest things for me to do is deal with my love life. I've faced down some pretty imposing things in the last 9 months and I kept moving forward. But nothing slows me down quite like loving a man that just don't love me like I deserve to be loved in return.
The father of my children is in a unique position in my life. He's not the first man I've ever loved. He's not the first man I've ever been in a relationship with. He's not the first man I've ever lived with. But he is the first man who's ever given me children.
Our relationship started very quickly and very wrong seven years ago. Yep. SEVEN. November, 2004, to be exact. That was the first day I ever laid eyes on him. Our physical relationship began a few months later in February of 2005. I was pregnant by July of 2005 with our son, Matthew. Now there's a whole lot of cock and bull in between but I tried to be as optimistic as possible. I knew I made many mistakes in my involvement with him. I could have known him better. I should have done my homework. Character and integrity should have meant more than passion and excitement to me. I should have taken sex off of the table. It should have never been introduced as quickly as it was. I should have taken note of each red flag, investigated them and then made a firm decision based on where those flags took me. I should have taken the time to qualify the man who was approaching my life, wanting to be a part of it in ways he wasn't even prepared for.
Neither one of us were planning on making babies together but that's exactly what we did.
And our lack of planning has caused many people, not just ourselves and our two children, to suffer.
Thankfully, our children have managed somehow not to be irreparably harmed by our careless frolicking into lust, passion, desire and immaturity, but that doesn't mean they haven't had to deal with their fair share of nonsense.
I've dealt with my fair share of nonsense.
If anything, this seven year involvement with this man has taught me many things, although some lessons clearly need a bit more emphasis because hey, I'm hard headed. One lesson that stands out above all is that a man of character and integrity should be valued and prized above all things. It's good that he has a decent job, wears nice clothes, has a voice that can melt an ice cube and game like Kobe. That's all well and good. But what kind of man is he when the lights come on? Ahh... now we're getting somewhere.
If your best times are at bedtime, there should be no time between you two.
None.
It's a waste of time.
I know plenty of women (myself included) who laid down many a precious sacrifice at the altar of lust and passion. If I told you everything I gave this man and how many times I did it, you'd probably stop reading my blog. It's a wonder my mother and sister still speak to me. lol! Yea, it was that bad. I hung in there like a champ, trying my best to salvage this mess of a relationship to save face. I couldn't just say that it was flawed from the start, involved no critical thinking on my part and that two foolish people sexed their way into a relationship that was little more than a few good evenings of passion. I'm not saying we didn't try. We did. We moved in together. He made bills. I paid them. He made debt. I carried it. I waited up for him to come home many nights, not knowing where he was, and wondering why I was foolish enough to let him back in when he finally did come home at 3, 4, and 5 a.m. We fought like cats and dogs. I still have holes in walls and doors. I've been called names I don't care to repeat and been told things that would make a tough guy wince. But I wanted something better to come out of our relationship. Surely, if we could make two beautiful children, we could make a beautiful relationship, right? RIGHT?
I held out hope for a long time. I prayed. I fasted. I cried.
I don't blame God for things not working out.
God is not a genie in a bottle nor is He like a root worker who will manipulate someone against their own will. Our job is to AGREE with God, not to be manipulated by Him. If you can't see things His way, He doesn't press the issue. So why do we?
We want someone to see things our way. I wanted my childrens' father to see things my way. I wanted him to see that he had a damn good woman that he was treating like garbage. I wanted him to see that with a little commitment and a a tad more effort on his part, we could be a home and a family that our children would be strengthened by and I'd have the love of a man I always wanted.
I'd finally have something that was real.

We spoke briefly today, throughout the day. We speak daily actually, small talk. He'll call to tell me how his day is going at work, to ask about the kids. I listen intently as he talks about this coworker, or that issue with his family. He likes to talk to me. I like to listen because one day, I hope to hear the words, "Melissa, I love you. Let's give it one more try". Instead, every now and then I hear the words, "What are you wearing?"
Yep. Melissa hears that.
It hurts because this is someone I've grown to love and care about. We started out bad but over seven years, I grew to love him. I so believed that we could make something out of virtually nothing. I believed we could find the motivation in our childrens' eyes together to make a good relationship. I could let go of the lies, the disappointments, the promises made and never kept, the drinking, the smoking, the fights.
I could let it go. I did let it go.
I could keep trying.
I could keep hoping and praying.
I could keep believing that someway, somehow, God would change a man's character and give him integrity just for me, all in a few months.
Too bad it doesn't work like that.
You see, it takes character and integrity to be in a faithful and committed relationship and neither of those elements are built overnight. They take time to establish. God doesn't give us character and integrity. That's something we have to cultivate on our own. That's why there are plenty of people in the Kingdom of God who God has saved but cannot entrust with anything. It's not because He doesn't love them. It's because they have not proven themselves faithful or trustworthy.
So I can pray all I want to for God to change this man into someone that loves, cares, and respects. But the truth is, that man has to be willing to build his own character.
I'm 33 years old. I say it often and that's mainly for my own realization, not yours. I love God with all my heart and soul but sometimes my soul hurts a little and tonight is one of those nights. Hey, what can I say? I'm human. I believe every Word written in the bible and that's why I'm at this point in my life. Do I honestly believe that this is the best that God can do for me? Even if this man said with his mouth, "Melissa, I want us to work this out", what would that really mean? Would he be different? Would he have the character and integrity needed to go the distance? Would I be able to trust him? Would he be home every night? Just the simple fact that I can't answer all of those questions lets me know there's a problem.
Yes, he's the father of my children. I am thankful that we have two beautiful children to show for our seven years of knowing each other. But I'm ready for better.
Better may not come tomorrow. And better may not happen this year. It may be a few more years before better arrives but I think it's time I started looking for it.
It's hard to believe God can do more than what you've seen done before. As I said earlier, this isn't my first relationship but it certainly hasn't been very much different than any of them from the past. None of them lasted and none of them gave me the love and honor I'm due. But just because it hasn't been seen before doesn't mean God can't do it. My faith tells me that even though I've never experienced a healthy relationship and never really saw a long lasting love in my own family, that doesn't mean it's impossible. With God, nothing shall be impossible.
It's going to be a battle to let go of my "this will do" to embrace something totally new and better. I'm sure if I really, really want to hang on to this man, I can. But deep down I know I'll never get all that God has for me by doing so.
I still believe God can turn things around. I'll still pray for the father of my two children. If God wills for us to be together, I'll accept His will for my life.
But as of right now, I'm believing for better than this here.
It's scary to let go of the only thing that looks halfway like something you've always wanted.
It hurts.
But it's a must.
I don't want almost.
I don't want "this will have to do".
I want everything God has for me and every blessing He intends to bestow on me.
I want it all.
I want better things.

Girl, You Must Be Dreamin!

I don't consider myself a dreamer. I've been known to go several months if not longer without so much as a chase dream. But here lately, I've been dreaming a lot. I've had dreams so vivid, I was glad to be awake and others so memorable I didn't even have to write them down to recall them later.
My family's no stranger to dreams either. I can remember as a child my mother mentioning dreams she'd had warning about the death of someone we all knew. Dreams are well respected in my family. I've always known that God speaks to us through our dreams. Sometimes, it's said that's the only way He can get a word in edge-wise. That may be so but I think that sometimes, God just wants to give us a sneak peek, a glimpse into something that He has for us but that we may not be quite ready for. I also think He allows dreams to come so that we'll seek Him first for their meaning. Isn't it funny how we spend most of our time on the phone, texting, talking, online, and face to face asking everyone but Him for answers? Hmm.
I had a dream last night. I really hate to talk about my dreams because I consider them to immensely personal but hey, so is a blog called "Diary of A Baby Mama".
In this dream, there was a man who was completely enamoured with me. I'm talking 100% smitten. I can remember being embarrassed to an extent by his behavior. As much as he liked my physical appearance, he was just as moved by me, the person. Now he was not my type: he was older, not particularly attractive, etc. But I can remember him holding my hand and his hand was so much bigger than mine. I remember more than anything the emotions I felt in the dream more than what I saw: I felt safe, adored, protected, and finally, treasured.
And isn't that the point of it all?
I'm thirty three years old. I'm a long way away from over the hill but far from a rookie. I've been in a relationship or two. Seen somethings. Lived some things. I've seen women that I'm related to and women I love as dear friends experience the joy and pain of relationships. I've seen weddings, births and funerals. I've even seen separations and divorces. But one thing I haven't seen much of is a love that tells God "thank you". I'm talking about a love that comes after a storm, at the end of a long, dark night, and breaks forth like the dawn and shines on everybody who sees it. I've known one couple like that and it's given me hope for my own life.
I've tried to take a practical approach to love and relationships. I've gone down the rabbit hole of fantasy before that immerses you in movies and music videos but leaves you empty and disappointed in the end. I've tried to take a more straight forward approach to love. I don't have to expect to be beaten or abused but expecting to be adored, honored, and appreciated? That's a bit much, don't you think?
I know I'm not the only woman who feels that way.
If I was, I'd see less problems and more testimonies.
Truth is you'll never have more than you can believe for.
NEVER.
I didn't believe I could be loved, honored, respected, adored and desired, all at the same time, by the same man.
Didn't believe it.
And then God gave me a dream. Let me see it. Feel it. Prepare for it.
I'm not saying that I'll be married by the end of next year and I'll meet the man of my dreams by the end of this one.  God isn't my genie in a bottle and I'm doing my best not to rub Him the wrong way with my doubt & unbelief. I am saying that the dream gave me hope and my hope gives me the faith to believe what I cannot see. Just because all I've seen is pain, disrespect, disregard and failure in love doesn't mean that's all that's there. Faith is my other set of eyes. It causes me to see what I haven't seen before and wait patiently until it shows up into the natural.
So keep dreaming ladies.
Blessed is the one who hasn't seen but yet believes.
I've got some faith focals on.

Ooh, LaLa: I'm BUILT!

Soccer Mom. Stay at Home Mom. Busy Mom. Single Mom. Working Mom.
Stressed Mom. Frustrated Mom. Overworked Mom. Under-appreciated Mom. Frazzled Mom.
I've been most of these at some point, and many right now.
I try to pause first thing in the morning now. I mean, literally pause. Once I realize that I'm conscious, no longer asleep and definitely not dreaming, I pause. I give God a moment to whisper to me because once my feet hit the carpet, it's lights, camera, action. There's outfits to coordinate, lunch boxes to pack, snacks to label, socks to match, hair to comb, teeth to brush, tears to wipe, car seats to buckle, laundry to sort, floors to vacuum, toys to pick up... on and on.
So I pause now, first thing in the morning. Dr. Mike Murdock said to give the Holy Spirit the first seven minutes of every single day. How delightfully simple that seemed to me. I for one feel at times a bit dissatisfied with my prayer and devotion time. Although I've always considered my relationship with God to be more fluid than formal, I do realize the need for and respect the presence of a degree of formality in my worship.
While pausing this morning, just lying in bed listening to the whispers of the Spirit, something came to me.
I may not complain a lot outwardly, but inwardly, I complain quite a bit. I stopped believing in that imaginary land called "Fair" a long time ago but every now and then, I have thoughts of it. "It's not fair that I'm raising my two children virtually alone". "It's not fair that their father takes his parenting role in an optional manner while mine is a requirement". "I don't have the luxury of waking up and saying, that I don't feel like doing this today". I've gone to work with bronchitis, and when I wasn't working with the full blown flu myself, I was home taking care of two sick children who also caught the flu at the same time. I'm the one who has to give my son breathing treatments when he needs them. I'm the one who thinks on down the line and tries to anticipate a disaster.
By now, I'm up and out of bed. I'm standing in the kitchen, packing my childrens' lunch boxes, still meditating on everything. Then, then thought comes to me, "What if your car's transmission complained as much as you do?" Huh? Ok God, what do you mean? He said to me, "When you're driving and approach a hill, you press on the gas and your car's transmission responds by shifting gears and transferring more power to the engine allowing the truck to move up the incline at the same speed that you were going on the straight-away. What if your transmission complained about working harder than the tires? What would you say?" I do answer God when He speaks, so I said, "I'd tell the transmission that's what you were built to do! Change gears and get ta haulin!"
Hmm.
And that's what He said to me.
Change gears. Adjust. Adapt. Shift. Lift. Do what you gotta do.
Stop complaining. This is what you were BUILT to do.
If a joint didn't flex it would cause pain and there would be no walking going on.
I was BUILT to adapt.
I was BUILT to bear.
I was BUILT to endure.
I was BUILT to adjust.
I was BUILT to empower others.
I was BUILT to bring order to chaos.
I was BUILT to bring comfort, peace and stability to those I love.
I was BUILT to last.
No longer will I look at my children's father in anger or disgust, thinking that I am somehow being treated unfairly. Yes, my burden is heavy but I was BUILT to carry it.
There are plenty of parents behind bars because they were not built to handle the load that has been placed on me. They took it out on their children and now those innocent little children are no longer alive.
But I was BUILT to handle this and handle it like a good transmission.
SHIFT and LIFT!
I may not be the best mom on the planet but I'm the best one for two children in particular. Nobody can do what I do like I do it because God BUILT me for it!
I'm done wallowing in defeat, frustration, anger and hurt. So WHAT he's not doing as much as me?
He CAN'T do as much as me.
He's not BUILT for this.

I was BUILT just for this!
And so are YOU.

The Blah Days

Ok, so it's been a few minutes since I last posted on this here blog. I must admit I've been experiencing a bit of "writer's block".
Well, on second thought, let me be honest.
Melissa is RARELY at a loss for words or thought but sometimes, I'm just not so willing or even sure I want to share those words and thoughts. I understand the importance of speaking your truth but sometimes... a girl just aint too sure, ya know?
I try my best to keep it real and to be as uplifting and authentic as possible.
But I have "blah" days just like everyone else.
I wake up with my hair pushed up to one side at a sharp point.
I put very little effort into assembling an outfit.
Scrunchies sometimes substitute for bracelets.
The older I get, the tougher the ol' hormones are to deal with. I hit my thirties and soon came to the realization that the thirty something version of myself is a more mature model, true, but she's got plenty of tender spots, literally and figuratively.
Let's start with this bursitis that I used handy dandy WebMD.com to self diagnose. Yep, I do that too. LOL! Unexplained pain in my hips and shoulders that creeps up just before a storm system, wracks me with pain, makes my eyes water and sends me limping to my stash of ibuprofen only to vanish as quickly as it came.
And let's not forget about this light dusting of gray hair that seems to be occurring underneath my glorious jet black weave. SERIOUSLY?! I'm 33. Is it REALLY time to consult a colorist? Gray too soon, gray too soon. And to add insult to injury, my lifelong black curly hair will be replaced with straight, wiry grays. Haha! Gotta love the human body.
Some days I just don't feel spiritual...like today. lol! I am completely in love with God and His Word. Without His Word, I would not be where I am now nor would I even have the slightest interest in facing tomorrow apart from Him. But combined with unpredictable hormones, emotions, and those mysterious "blahs" that women tackle, I just don't feel connected. I know that I am ever before Him but sometimes I just don't feel so connected. It's in those moments that I tend to get a little quiet, a little withdrawn.
The last thing I want to do is speak as an oracle of me. What does that mean? I feel that in this day and time, people are somewhere close to DESPERATE to hear from God. What is His mind? How does He feel about the events in this world we live in? Is He displeased? Does He want us to move and act differently than we are? Knowing His will, discerning His voice in the midst of the crowd, and finding a resting place in the midst of busy work and chaos can be a challenge. Some days I feel like He's a mighty river flowing through me. Other days (like today) I feel like I'm under a slow leaky drain, waiting for the next drop of water to splash upon my parched soul.
Truth is, there will be days like this. Many, and not a few. There will be days that seem as if they are mundane, insignificant and I'd dare say, irrelevant. However, my faith tells me that God is always working. Always. Each day builds upon another. And another. They are all significant in the fabric of my life.
I'll make it through the "blahs". I'll get through the less than sensational days.
I'll make it through the days I get on my own nerves and put MYSELF in time out.
I'll get through them all victoriously because He's with me.

Thirties:You Should Have Learned Something By Now

Stupidity can last up to 20 years. How do I know this? It's because for the most part, I made a shipwreck of my roaring 20's. Twenty somethings know just enough to be dangerous. They have buying power, independence, peak sexual performance and a paycheck. Look our world! Here comes trouble wide open on two tires!
I by no means intend to offend or infuriate my twenty something readers. This is humorous and slightly sarcastic reflection on a place I once was and I can relate. But I owe it to you to tell you that you're stupid.

I think about three thirty and over women just nodded their heads in agreement. LOL!

And that's what should happen when you enter the decade of thirty. Your eyes should come open like curtains in the morning. Aha moments should pop up left and right. By now you've weathered unbelievably risky gambles against your health, safety  and finances. You are either in the middle of a financial storm or sitting in the pile of rubble it left in its wake. You've got a few exes under your belt and the scars to prove it. Maybe that Vegas wedding on a whim in cowboy boots and ripped jeans is now an alimony payment in your checking account. You're quite possibly a parent by now, all but forced to surpress your inner child and manage the very real, and very demanding outter children who now depend on you for everything. You're probably a few years into a career you're not that fond of and steadily approaching what I'd like to call the "mini midlife crisis".
Oh yea folks...

Thirty somethings know all about this.

This is when your straight laced husband decides it's time for him to unleash his inner, irresponsible freak and shed the shackles of lifelong committment. It's also when you stare at your boobs in the mirror and seriously consider using next year's tax refund for a bust lift. Maybe you've caught the glimmer of a few gray hairs in the bathroom mirror and have decided it's time to discuss semi permanent or permanent hair coloring with your stylist. Even more serious, maybe you've buried both sets of grandparents and realize it won't be long until you are in your own parents' shoes.
You're thinking about life insurance for the first time in your life.
Should I get a living will?
Who will care for my children if something should happen to me?
Do I want a DNR order?
Do I want to spend another 10 years of my life in this city? In this career? In this relationship?
Oh yea... it's a mini midlife crisis alright!
But seriously, you should have learned something by now!
The only thing more disappointing than a disasterous twentieth decade is a ten year repeat performance.
Whether you realize it or not, you've learned a ton of things by now. You may not see it because you're effectively submerged in the routine of life that you hardly notice all of the wisdom you've acquired since high school. However, if you took the time to slow down a bit, you'd see, like me, that by thirty something, you can and SHOULD have learned a lot by now.
One of the biggest life lessons I've learned as a thirty something year old woman is that we set ourselves up for much of the dramatic high's and lows of life by our own actions. How so? Here's an example. You receive an invitation by facebook or email regarding your highschool class reunion. First of all, you were not popular in high school nor were you happy there. You were the awkward misfit with no friends and chubby cheeks but as soon as the invitation hits your inbox, you're out shopping at Lane Bryant trying to find something slimming and age defying.
 Then it's off to Zumba class and Weight Watchers to lose 60 lbs in three months. Before you know it, you're driving or flying across country to stand in a room full of people who don't even recognize you and if they do, still can't pronounce your name correctly and once again, you're the one nursing a glass of wine at the bar, feeling oddly insecure and unhappy, much like you did 15 years earlier. Here's the best way to handle potentially difficult situations like class reunions, parties, and receptions:
DON'T GO.
It's really that simple. Why on EARTH are you spending hundreds of dollars for hair, makeup, Zumba, outfit and airfare to go and be made to feel like an 18 year old oddball?! Seriously?!

Thirty somethings should have learned by now the value of peace of mind and the absence of drama.

The best thing about making it out of our teens and twenties is that we don't have to EVER repeat it!
So the next time you get an invitation from someone you don't like and that you're almost positive NEVER liked you, simply don't go. *DELETE*
Another realization that thirty somethings with good sense tend to make is that although they've essentially let 10 good years get flushed down the toilet in superficial enterprises, there's still enough time to turn the Titanic around and avoid the next iceberg. Change is possible at any age, but when you're in your teens and twenties, change is like being in a jetski. By the time you hit your mid thirties and 40's, change feels more like a yatch. The mind, body and soul just doesn't get up and zig zag between the changes of life like it used to. Another gut punch is that although we still could quite possibly have more years ahead of us than behind us (it's reasonable to think I'll live til 66, Lord willing), the truth is that the sands of the hourglass now appear to be sliding a little bit faster than just ten short years ago. Grandparents, aunts, and uncles who were embroidered into the fabric of our lives are now deceased. God forbid we lose a parent or comrad. The gut punch is even harder. We realize that turning fifty isn't in the far distant future like it used to be. We also realize that by the time we turn 50, our parents who are 25-30 years our senior, may not be there with us.
These realizations scream that we should have learned something by now.
What do I have to show for three decades worth of breathing in and out?
Is this as good as it gets for me?
Can the Titanic be rerouted?
When I was twenty, the thought of starting over completely from zero was not nearly as imposing as it is now.
I have children now. I have a pitiful yet confirmed credit score. I own property. I'm not sick or dying, but I don't have the same amount of energy as I used to. I require naps now.
Can I start from zero and make it to 100?
Thirty somethings know that although it may seem daunting, it can be done.
Those in their forties, fifties, and sixties tell us that we're still youngins. They know what we're capable of. They know we have the juice to get it done if we take the step.
I used to think that my twenties were a critical decade. Lord knows I made my fair share of mistakes there and made my bed pretty gosh darn hard. Over time, I've realized that actually my critical hour is NOW. As chocked full of nonsense as my twenties were, I came out of them in one piece and with many, MANY nuggets of truth and hard knock wisdom.
I'm smart enough to realize that most twenty somethings won't listen to me nor see the benefit of my wisdom. *watching my thirty and over's nodding and chiming, "Mmm hmm". lol!* We all know the hardest heads are the twenty somethings. We were hardheads once. We were stubborn, fierce, full of fire and vinegar and armed with just enough knowledge to be a force.
We were all there.

And we all got our butts kicked real good by life and its curveballs.

Please don't dispair twenty somethings. Things do get better. As difficult as it is to look at the longterm, do everything you can to minimize the impact of your decisions on decades that you can't even see. Buy a house when you're ready, not just because all of your friends are homeowners. Get married because you're in love and you've done your homework, not just because you're trying to have a baby before you hit 30. The decisions you make should come from what is true to YOU, not what is pressing against you.
Follow your heart, not your girlfriends. Your heart may contradict the "in" crowd, but guess what? You graduated from high school already and you can now enjoy the clique called YOU.

Don't look up and realize you spent the past 10 years trying to find someone who was always there.
You're learning everyday and by thirty...
You'll be amazed by what you know.

The List

Grocery List. Chore List. Task List. Relationship List.
The list goes on and on!
Truth of the matter is that we seem to have an obsession with lists these days. We rely on lists to keep us organized and focused. We look to lists to chronicle our ideas and dreams. We use lists to track our progress or lack thereof. We also use lists to define what we want in a mate.
I was no different than any other hormonal teenager in the world and spent the better part of my teenage years fantasizing about boys. My dear sweet mother did all she could to give my over-the-top emotions an ouitlet and her solution was the construction of "THE LIST".
It was my task to sit down and write all of the characteristics, down to phyiscal features, that I wanted in a boyfriend and pray, believing that God would somehow in His omnipotent power, cause our paths to cross.

Bless her heart, and mine too.

Here's what my list looked like, back in the day:
Good hair (curly or wavy)
Caramel complexion
Tall
Loves God
Goes to church
Light eyes
Rich
Nice Car
Good job
Minister

That's what my list looked like between the ages of 15 & 18. Sad to say, I've seen the same items on the lists of women twice that age. You'd think our lists would grow up along with us.
If I could come alongside my 15, 16 or 17 year old self, and proofread her "list", this is what it would look like:

Good Hair (wavy or curly) Your hair, sweetheart, is not wavy or curly. Is it fair to make this a requirement? Should hair texture define his or even your beauty?

Caramel Complexion Once again, your complexion is not caramel. You are a beautiful dark brown. HE can be too.

Tall  It's  ok to prefer a tall man as long as you keep an open mind. After all, you don't want someone to overlook all of YOUR good qualities simply because of your physical appearance.

Loves God This is definitely the best thing on your list so far but you'll come to realize over time that a person's true relationship with God is private. However, their character and integrity is public. Make that your focus.

Goes to church You'll see over time that just because a man or woman attends church, that doesn't mean they are good people or will treat you good. How a person behaves outside of those four walls should be your primary focus.

Light eyes Seriously?! lol! You just excluded a ton of people because of this one requirement Rethink this.

Rich Define "rich". Just because a man has money doesn't mean YOU will. Is he generous? That's what you need to make sure you find out.

Nice Car What exactly is a "nice car"? If you mean, "expensive", then you are being petty and need to think realistically. A man doesn't have to drive a Mercedes or Bentley to get along. You'll soon have your own cars and car payments and trust me, you will NOT have Mercedes money but will be blessed with reliable transportation.

Good Job Well this would make sense. If he's supposed to be rich and drive a nice car, then that would require a good job! But in order for a man to earn enough money for a "rich" lifestyle, he must devote a large portion of his time to that job and not to you. Are you sure you want a rich man? Think about it...seriously.Try a man who leads a balanced life and is financially responsible. That's a little more down to earth.

Minister I know what you're thinking, "surely a preacher is going to be a man I can trust and who has integrity!" But this is not a given sweetheart, There are plenty of God fearing men out there who are not clergymen. Don't hold this against them and don't assume he's a man of integrity just because he is clergy.

Sometimes I wish someone had gone over my list like this with a red marker! lol! But the bottom line is that there are plenty of young women in the world who have unchecked lists. There was a time in my life when I preached against the construction of lists but now, I see their usefulness. If done right, mothers can get a glimpse into the mindset of their daughters as it relates to men and guide them where they may be drifting. It can be used as a tool to show moms where problem areas are. Daughters who emphasize superficial qualities may be battling issues with self esteem and self worth. Daughters overly articulate about material possessions may lack compassion and empathy for the plight of others less fortunate.
These lists can be used for good but these lists must change.
If you're a young woman, an older woman can help you fine tune your expectations on life. If you're an older woman, it can hopefully show you where you have the greatest need and show you areas that you can continue to improve on.
It's ok to make a list.
Just make sure you're putting those lists to work for you.

Feed The Birds

I was standing in my kitchen yesterday washing dishes and tidying up things. As I wiped down the counter tops, I noticed that there was some old bread in the bread bowl (we use a large bowl instead of a bread box.. quirky, I know...lol!). I was about to toss all of it when I caught myself, almost with a start. I said to myself, "Don't throw that out! You can use that to feed the birds!"
I didn't grow up around animals, in part because I was literally allergic to so many different things, but the one animal I distinctly remember the most in my childhood was birds. I can remember my mother taking stale cornbread and slices of bread and tossing it out the back door onto the yard. When I asked her why she was doing this as a child, she'd say, "it's to feed the birds". Occasionally, we'd see a bird or two land and then take flight with a morsel of bread in his beak. But for some odd reason, this act of feeding the birds never left me.
My parents weren't avid bird watchers or anything of the sort. We never owned a bird feeder or grew flowering bushes specifically for hummingbirds. For the most part, we lived our lives almost totally removed from the animal kingdom and completely submerged in our own humanity. That is, until it was time to decide what to do with old bread.
Well yesterday, I decided that it would be for the children to experience feeding the birds so I planned to gather up all the old bread and take the children to feed the pigeons in downtown Greenville tomorrow. I've experienced the feeding of the pigeons near Falls Park once before and let me tell you, it's quite spectacular. If you have a bird phobia, I don't recommend it because those little guys are bold and a large number of them cluster around those who come bearing goodies.
I couldn't help but go back to that period of time in my life when I observed my mom setting aside old cornbread and sliced bread to feed the birds. I'm not even sure why she did it or when she started it, but there was something within her that told her it was the right thing to do.
Here I was, decades later, with the same burden on my heart: feed the birds.
First of all, we're not even from the same species! Why on earth am I concerned about a bird eating or not?
Then I realized that this is how God works.
Just when you think you're not on someones mind, God is placing you there, as subtle as an "aha" moment. There's probably some pigeon crying out to God now for his next meal. God heard him and told me to use that old bread to take a trip downtown with my two little children to feed him. Seems like an awful lot of trouble for a great and mighty God to go through for something as lowly as a flock of birds. But that the way He is.
My mama came up in a era that knew all about struggle. They helped their neighbors and friends. Sometimes a sack of flour and can of lard was the difference between life and death by starvation. She knew all about hard times and saw her fair share. So did my dad. And maybe, it's with that understanding that both took the time to feed the birds. Even if it was just a slice, they didn't throw it away. Out the backdoor and into the yard it went.
I guess such a gesture would be considered littering today but to my parents, it was there way of remembering the weak and the lowly.
So while we're standing at Falls Park feeding a feisty flock of pigeons tomorrow, I'll remember that the Great God of the Universe laid them on my heart and if he can lay a bird on the heart of a human being so that it doesn't go hungry, surely He can and will lay you and I on someones heart at the right time and take care of us.
Don't forget to feed the birds.

Boys Will Be Boys?

I absolutely love being a mom. I honestly believe that motherhood was God's personal gift to me which lifted me from self destructive behaviors and a feeling of worthlessness. Nothing says "I need you" quite like the voices of your innocent children. Not only am I a mom, I'm also the mother of two, a boy and a girl. It's very true that there are differences in gender and I'm thankful for the opportunity to observe those differences first hand. I never had a brother so it's interesting to see my son and daughter interact.
Their personalities are so different. Whereas, my son is very thoughtful and thinks ahead, my daughter tends to be a tad bit more selfish, sometimes downright diva-like. lol!
For the most part, I believe that my children behave age appropriately. What I mean by that is although I recognize my children are not always angelic, their sometimes naughtiness is not what I would consider to be a major issue. I'm still able to control them. There's no biting, scratching and spitting going on. lol! Nobody has set anyone or anything on fire and sadistically laughed about it.
My children are ok.
I consider myself to be a good, loving parent and for the most part, I try to look out for every single need of my children, particularly their mental and physical health.
But I had no idea that my son's gender identification would become my sole responsibility and burden.
Really?
Let's face it. Few moms wake up in the morning with a check list of "boy specific" rules to follow. We find ourselves instinctively gravitating to the things our children show interest in. My son LOVES cars and trucks which makes my life so much easier because there are some moms with boy children who want dolls and wear the color pink.
But the thing that I find disturbing is that both single and married moms are finding themselves in the cross hairs when it comes to the behavior of their little boys. As I stated just a second ago, my son likes cars and trucks 90% of the time. But for maybe 10% or less, he wants to comb mommy's hair while I braid his sister's hair. He and his sister play in my closet and occasionally, he's been known known to slip on my shoes. If his dad ever caught wind of this, there would be hell to pay and of course, it would be my fault that his son wasn't displaying manly qualities at all times. REALLY?
Okay folks. Let me weigh in on the whole subject of gender roles and children.
I heard on the news today that a famous clothing catalog featured an ad of a mother painting her young son's toenails a bright shade of pink.
I don't think that's cute.
At all.
Whereas I don't advocate disciplining a child for showing interest in another gender's activities or apparel, there is no need to encourage or even support this type of behavior in small children. When my son walked out of my closet in my shoes, he was disciplined, not for being a little boy in women's shoes but for making a mess of my shoes and strewing them all about the house. There's a difference. When he asks me if something is "for boys" or "for girls", I answer clearly. My daughter also asks the same questions. My son has watched me painting my toes before and asked if he could paint his. After saying, "No", that was the end of it.
I do realize that there are some children who this answer will not satisfy. There are little boys who want to wear girls clothing and BE little girls, not just imitate what appears to be interesting and fun for one sibling and not the other.
As a single mom, I don't harp on my son about being a "little man" or exhibiting masculine characteristics. He's doing that quite well on his own. My job is to be a guide and that's what I do. When he plays with his sister and picks up her doll, I don't freak out. She's his only playmate. I don't freak out when she zooms through the house with one of his toy cars. When he puts on my shoes, I ask him calmly to remove them. I don't lecture him about why it's wrong for little boys to wear women's shoes. He's five and I doubt he'd rake good notes anyway.  I just stand my ground and do my job as mommy. For him, all he needs to know at this point is that mommy says yes or no to certain things and his little life goes on and he finds something else to do.
What gets me is when men who put the "single" in single mom and were the creators of the uber-degrading title "babymama" are often the biggest critics of how women raise their sons. EXCUSE ME?! That I don't get. Wouldn't it be a whole lot easier to actually DO your job than to sit up and criticize someone forced to fill in for you?
And let's face it. If it did not take the contribution of both parents to ultimately raise a balanced human being, God would have never structured it that way. We'd lay eggs in the sand, cover them and walk away. lol!
It can be scary to think that the burden of establishing a male child's gender identification rests solely on your shoulders as a mom but fear is not from God. He has given us the grace to make it this far. Certainly, with His counsel and wisdom, it is possible for a woman to raise a responsibly masculine man.
There's so much more to the makings of a man than how big his trucks are and how far he can pee and spit.
Character and integrity are the foundation of strong men. That's something that both parents can and should contribute to.
So yea, it may be a bad idea to paint your son's toes and show him how to apply lip gloss, but there's absolutely nothing wrong with letting him explore and guide him. It's my job to show my children the path. It will one day be their choice to decide whether or not they will continue their journey on it.

Lord of the Mundane

I'll be the first to admit that I battle the war between being more than I am and being the best at what I am right now. Most of us with any bit of sense want to be more and achieve more before we hear the Lord say, "Well done, thy good and faithful servant".
Most of us want to make a difference.
Most of us want to leave some sort of legacy behind.
Most of us want to be a constant source of inspiration to our children, and not just a constant reminder of what not to do with your life.
Since I began writing this diary, I've discovered that most mothers (single or married) face the same challenges and insecurities. There's very little that separates us. Sure, we each peer into each others' lives from a distance, believing each possesses something more valuable than the other but lets face it...
We're all relatively mundane.
There's nothing all that glamorous about washing, folding and ironing the one millionth load of laundry on a weekly basis. Nothing particularly noteworthy about learning how to steer an SUV with one hand and re-buckle a car seat with another. Oh yea, and let's not forget that new chicken recipe you discovered online that was a hit with the entire house.
Yay.
Truth of the matter is that most of us become frustrated because there is nothing particularly big going on in our daily lives!
We get up, we brush 3-4 sets of teeth, make lunches. make beds, push a vacuum, sit behind a desk, roar up and down the highway to soccer games and rehearsals, and find new ways to dress up chicken thighs. That's what mommies do.
And doesn't that just sound exciting?!
It scares most of us to think that our eulogy will contain a few dry jokes about our quick wit and maybe even a tribute to our famous chicken recipe. Okay, okay.. .enough about the chicken I know! But how many mommies are like me and rely on this bird to keep us out of starvation?! You get my point.
We turn on the tv and things go downhill from there. Nothing but success story after success story. "I started a multi million dollar cupcake business right from my studio apartment!" "I just won $335 million dollars after 30 years of constant gambling on the lottery!" "My philanthropic work in the slums of India has earned me a humanitarian award and 1 million followers on twitter!"
The list goes on.
And we bury our heads in laundry, bills, and sippy cups, feeling a little less motivated to face the world.

Where is God in all of this monotony?

It's no secret that I love the bible. That passion was ignited in part by my father but lets face it; the average child isn't thrilled to sit for hours listening to Alexander Scourby read the Old Testament on audio tape! There was something within me that loved the Word of God from an early age. Maybe it was the vivid stories and larger than life subjects that drew me in. I'm not sure what it was initially, but to this day, I still love the Word of God... in most versions.
But I've got to be honest (which I try very hard to do in this diary): it has always been very difficult for me to believe that the bible stories were real. It's not that I don't believe the Word is truth. It's just that I always considered the men and women of the bible to be on a level so far removed from average that I should never expect to experience God in any way close to what they did. Who strolls up to a 10 ft giant at the age of 17 and confidently says, "I'm going to kill you and take your head off...TODAY"? WHO DOES THAT?! lol!
And who says, "Stand still and see the salvation of the Lord! The enemy that you see today shall be no more", and THEN proceeds to part an entire sea?! WHO DOES THAT?!
So please bear with me. I love the bible. I love the Word. I believe every word to be true.
I've just had a hard time relating to those in the bible as "average".
Maybe that's in part because few preachers in my lifetime ever presented those same individuals as real. I understand that those who recorded the acts of God and the testimony of the saints were more concerned with documenting the awesome power of God. But I believe the church of TODAY needs to turn that documentation into something that can be believed. Rarely does anyone take a text and say, "How do you think that felt?" Because of that disconnect, I believe that many of us (myself included) have found the bible to be not much more than a storybook.
However, it is so much more.
It is a totally different experience reading the bible at 33 years of age than it was as a 7 yr old or even a 20 year old. I have a lot more life under my belt and a lot more colors to paint with on my palette. What I see now when I read the Word of God is not just a tribute to heroes and heroins. What I see now is how God time and time again, interrupted the mundane routine of average men and women and propelled them head first into their destinies.
We see the ascension of King David to power. But we don't fully appreciate the over 20 year gap between his being anointed as King and his actual ascension to that throne. The bible is full of hidden truths and those truths can be unearthed by those willing to dig.
The superheros in the bible we read were not overnight successes. Often they went years, even DECADES before God spoke to them and before anything He ever promised manifested.
DECADES.
So while you're crying into your cup of Starbucks or freshly fluffed and folded laundry, chew on that little revelation.
Not to long ago, while contemplating my life, the Holy Spirit whispered something to me. It's tough reading timelines and facebook statuses sometimes. We can be real here! Folks appear to be doing so much, and excelling so far. And there you are, little ol mundane YOU. I've never been to Spain or France. I've never left the East Coast. Never been on a plane. I'm literally proud of myself for being able to handle Atlanta traffic alone. I know people who would NEVER drive in Atlanta. Seriously.
I'm not making any major moves, nothing particularly exciting going on in my world; Just toys, juice pouches, temper tantrums, laundry, crayon marks on white walls and an SUV motoring up and down the same stretch of 3.5 miles a day.
But God spoke to me and told me, "I am the Lord of the Mundane".
That means that He doesn't need or require me to make something happen. Just because I am faithfully attending to what appears to be mundane and insignificant does not mean that I will escape His plan and purpose for my life. I don't have to be a mountain climber to one day find myself on a summit.
That's His job.
The impossible belongs to Him.
The mundane belongs to me.
As long as I do what He's given me to do faithfully, He will make sure that every blessing He's guaranteed will overtake me.
In order for something to overtake me, it has to know where I am. The blessing knows when I'll be at Wal-Mart, on my way to get gas, buying clothes at Target or stopping by Staples for office supplies.
He doesn't need a big event to create one in my life.
He is Lord of the Mundane.
In DUE SEASON, we all shall reap.
Plug up that vacuum cleaner, set the wash cycle, make those lunches and head on into the office. Whatever it is that you do, I hope this helps you to do it with a little more strength and a little more encouragement. As heroic and successful as the men and women in the bible are, they didn't start out that way. Somewhere, while attending to their mundane affairs, God met them and changed their destinies.
You will be more if you'll be faithful.
He's Lord of everything, including your mundane life.

Venting, venting, venting....

Ok, so this is going to be a bit of a venting session. I call this a "diary" although most of the time, my aim is to be inspirational in my approach and share small nuggets of wisdom and knowledge here and there. But let's face it. It's way more interesting to know and hear that I'm a real woman that goes through the same ish as everyone else, trying to dodge the same potholes and set backs in life.
So today, I'm frustrated.
It's been nearly 8 months since my children's father and I called it quits. Well, let tell the truth: I called it quits. He may not have been the happiest man on the planet but what we had going at the time certainly didn't seem broke to him so he wasn't interested in fixing anything. After coming home from a miraculously powerful three night service in NC, my life was changed and my spiritual man awakened. All I knew was that my life was going to be different and the presence of the Lord was what I wanted and NEEDED. That meant that everything in my life that didn't appear "godly", including the relationship my children's father and I were in, had to end.
I'll be even more honest here. There was no letting him down easy. There was no "dear John" letter. I basically came back home after being gone for 4 days, ignored him for 2 weeks, and over lunch one day, I announced to him that not only was our relationship over, but that I was leaving the state within a year's time.

Boom.

And honestly, I didn't regret doing so because after all I'd endured in this relationship, it felt good to lower the boom and let him know that I FINALLY didn't feel like I had to tolerate his actions any longer. I was done. I was leaving. WE were leaving it all behind. I didn't deserve to be hurt the way I was and I didn't deserve to stay another day in what I felt was an under performing relationship. He didn't meet the criteria of the mystery "good man" and he certainly wasn't about to start attending church every Sunday and speaking in tongues just because I came home from a three day revival with a made-up mind to serve the Lord! So in my mind, the most logical thing to do would be to end our relationship instead of taking each other through the dreaded, but familiar "unequally yoked" scenario.
It wasn't until a few months later that I actually learned that the man I loved was actually hurt by my actions.
How could a "God thing" hurt someone that I cared so deeply for? I did the right thing by cutting him loose, right? RIGHT??
Hmm.
And that leads me to today.
Somehow or another, after months of virtual silence, he and I began talking again. At first it was strained and limited only to terse conversations about the well being of the children. But gradually, the conversations made their way back to familiar territory: "I'm having a craaazy day at work today!", or "Do you want to meet up for lunch?"
Let me again be honest. I never really wanted our relationship to end, but I did want it to CHANGE. I just came to the realization that I couldn't change anyone and rather than to argue and battle, women were supposed to leave. Right? RIGHT??
If it doesn't make you happy or make you smile something close to ALL the time, then you pack up and cut your losses, right? RIGHT??
After all, who wants to go another round on the familiar heartbreak carousel? Who wants to give a man another chance to hurt you?
Hmm.
Well, last weekend was fantastic. We had what I thought was great family time. We got along, we laughed, appeared to have enjoyed one another's company and he even had a whole day and a half to himself with the children alone. But that 8-9 hrs that he spent with me appears to be the issue. Let me just be really real here. Part of my problem (or insecurity) now is that he's tolerating my presence just for the sake of our children and to facilitate a drama-free interaction with them. By drama-free, he means at least getting some pleasant conversation out of me and feeling like we're friends. There's only one problem...
I don't do friendships after break up's.
I can be polite, I can be cordial. I may even ask u how you're doing.
But if we're not in a relationship, the chit chat comes to an END. BYE.
The last time we discussed our relationship "status" I was told "we're taking it one day at a time". When I was 23, that may have inspired hope in my heart. At 33, that screams, "SERIOUSLY?! We are too old to be acting like we're still test driving this thing!"
I'm also a bit annoyed by the fact that I feel like I'm on trial and if I don't perform at optimum level each time we interact, then I'll be disqualified from the competition. Boy, bye.
I'm the mother of your two children. We've known each other for 6 years.
Make a decision!
So basically, I'm venting to my blog so as not to throw about three, strongly articulated word grenades over his fence and blast him into the middle of next week! UGH!
I hate feeling like I'm on trial and being kept under observation. At the end of this trial period, I may be deemed worthy of a committed relationship.
Naw.
Not interested.
So I'm sitting here an emotional thunderstorm waiting for the heat of it all to pass.
I'll be back right in a few hours. I don't have a choice. I have far bigger fish to fry. When you're the mother of two, observant children, the last thing you want to do is have your children watch you take a swim in an above ground sizes pool of Ben & Jerry's. Gotta pull it together!
I'm trying to keep my words few to him through this. I'm sure he has his reasons for doing things the way that he does and my struggle is to try to maintain respect for his ways and opinions that so differ from mine. UGH.
But that's what growing up is all about and truthfully, that's what being in love involves. It's not easy being in a relationship and even harder to maintain one.
Too bad it isn't as lovely and glamourous as its made out to be.
Maybe that's why so many people quit at love.
I'm not saying that I'm quitting but I'm definitely taking a time-out. lol!
It's too MUUUUuuch!

Where It All Began:Part 1

"The part of me that is angry is because I wanted to be loved so badly that I left common sense and good judgement at the door."

That was 2005.
A lot can happen in six years.
A lot HAS happened in six years.

First, I want to start by saying that motherhood was never something I pursued. Sure, in theory I wanted to be a mother some day. I also wanted the rich, church going husband who whisked me away to his mansion and gave me one of his matching Mercedes to drive.
That would have been nice.
But the motherhood thing? Six years ago, it wasn't even on my radar.
What was on my radar was trying to find someone to love me.
The father of my children was not my first relationship. Before him there was an 8 year relationship which turned into an engagement its final year. There's not enough time to discuss where that relationship went wrong, but the sole reason it even began in the first place was because of my pursuit of a man's love.
I needed it so badly and felt like I couldn't function without it. It became addictive, a sedative. It calmed me down for a moment, but soon had me roaming the streets looking for my next fix. I drove for miles looking for it. I allowed questionable characters to be taken into my confidence and sometimes, into my bed, looking for it.
When the 8 year relationship ended in 2004, I went looking again. This time, I found a man I didn't even like. That wasn't anything new. I'd met several men who didn't impress me at first sight and this one wasn't an exception. He was somewhat tall (about 6'1"), brown skinned, wore jeans, a throwback jersey and a ball cap cocked to the side. I was not impressed.
I was introduced to him by my hair stylist and wanting some attention and affection, I decided to give him a call and he immediately asked to come see me. He came over and the conversation was unremarkable. He looked like a walking stereotype. I immediately judged him.
He wasn't on my level.

Several months passed after our initial meeting in 2004. By February of 2005, we reconnected. One evening he came over to my place to hang out. He sat on my sofa as he usually did and I sat across from him on the chaise. After several minutes passed, he removed the ball cap allowing me to finally get a good look at his face and his eyes. There was something about his face that immediately struck me.
I knew then I wanted him.
And back in the day, Melissa usually got what and who she wanted.
We continued our physical relationship for several months and although I was not 100 percent content, I was willing to tolerate his inconsistent behavior because after all, he was a nice change of scenery. But the more he came around, the more I felt myself getting attached to him. I decided that the next time we met, I would end things.
But before I got the chance, there was some news the both of us would have to learn...
I was pregnant.
The next year was hell. I say that because I was already an emotional wreck before getting pregnant but combined with hormonal changes, it became worse. I was used to feeling depressed but it deepened. I was used to feeling alone because I had been living on my own for several years. But it became even worse.
I didn't know how I ended up here.

I didn't want to be pregnant. I wanted to be loved.

I was too old to be pregnant and unloved. I was 27 yrs old when I found out I was pregnant.  This sort of thing happened to teenagers, right?
What I soon discovered was that although my physical age was 27, my emotional age was far, far younger.
I needed to grow up and someone was about to be born who could help me do just that.

When I began this journey and this calling of motherhood, I felt beyond ill-prepared. I felt as if being pregnant  was a consequence to own and live with. I wasn't capable then of seeing the hand of God in it all. I knew God was involved because He began speaking to me in dreams more than I'd ever had in my entire life. He told me I was having a son. He told me to name him "Matthew" which means "gift of God". But even with all of these confirmations, I still didn't put the pieces together.
I still couldn't see God in it all.
I couldn't see the "gift".
All I saw was that I wanted a man to love me but ended up with a baby. Not only was I about to be a mother, I was about to do it alone. I was about to be a "baby mama", a statistic. I didn't even have time to care about the ramifications of my actions against the backdrop of my Pentecostal Holiness upbringing nor my father's position as an Elder. All I knew was that I had to face what I'd done and I would.
I wish that I could say that I embraced motherhood with enthusiasm and selflessness as every parent should, but I didn't. I spend a great deal of time mourning, complaining, and weeping for the love I wanted but never got. I mourned for the fantasy man in the music video who would shower me with gifts and affection that never came. And I mourned for the life I was told I should have and deserved to have but didn't.
I was a baby mama now. How delightfully humbling.

But six years later...
My life looks nothing like it did then.
Not only am I the mother of Matthew, I went on to have another child with the man in the throwback jersey and cocked-to-the-side ball cap, our beautiful daughter, Caitlyn.
We tried to make a household work early on. He ended the relationship with another woman he was with shortly before Matthew was born. A year after Matthew was born, he officially asked me to be his girlfriend. We lived together off and on up until 2010. We tried to be a family.
We've cussed, fussed, fought and cried our way through the last 6 years. It wasn't until we ended our romantic involvement for a season that we both had a chance and opportunity to reevaluate our lives and our roles as parents. Quite honestly, I fell right into the "single mom" stride and didn't look back. I worked full time, picked up a part-time gig, paid bills, made doctor appointments, established bedtimes and routines. I did it all.
And I used our children to build a wall between myself and their father.

It's not like he made it easy to forgive him for his wrongs. It's not like he was consistent or even responsible.
But what I learned last year and this year was that forgiveness is a gift and opens up new possibilities.
I could either let the darkness of our past continue to blanket all of our lives (our innocent children included) or I could let it go, forgive him for not being the man I wanted him to be and allow him to be the man he was.
I had a choice to make.
Grudge or Glory?
I also realized that the greatest motivation for change in my life was our two children. Although he wasn't doing a very good job of trying to actively participate in their lives, I also wasn't doing a very good job with my attitude of allowing him to be a part of it. I didn't want him to be a part of it at first. If he didn't want me, WE didn't want him.
And that's where I was wrong.
I didn't want my children shuttled between two households. I wanted the picture perfect family with mommy in an apron and daddy in a smoking jacket, all under one roof. I wanted what I wanted and as I said before, Melissa usually got what she wanted.
But one thing about true love of any kind that I was soon to learn was that love that doesn't leave its recipient better than when they first got there isn't love at all. Real love has transforming power.

If the love you show doesn't transform anyone for the better, it's probably a lovely form of selfishness.
My love for my children was selfish.
My love for the father was selfish also.

I think a light bulb went off in my head and Marc's head once we realized that our son turns 5 in just a couple of weeks. Maybe it's the realization that we now have a child who will one day be a man and as the oldest, be responsible for his sister and possibly for major decisions regarding our health and property. Maybe it was the realization that our 5 year old child has a super good memory and with that in mind, we want to plant good things on it. Maybe it was my realization that this year, he starts kindergarten and as we release him to the world, there is nothing like the comfort of a superhero father who will protect and defend you from all wrongs that you may face.
Maybe it was my realizing that the love of God that I professed to have was not being shown to the man whose children I bore. What good was it to claim to be a believer when I treated him like scum?
And maybe we both just grew up a little in six years.
Whatever it was, something clicked this year and I'm thankful it did.
This birthday will be different for Matthew.
Sure, his father and I have a long way to go in communicating effectively and respectfully. We do not live together. We're not engaged. When pressed for a relationship status, the best he can offer to me is "we're taking it one day at a time". But what's different is that we're back at the table, trying to work together, communicate and do this parenting thing together. I don't care how strong we claim to be ladies... there's NOTHING like having some help from a man.
I'm thankful for the help that Marc is now able to provide. Five years ago, I made a decision not to put him up on child support. There were many days I thought I regretted that decision. I know many of my friends disagreed with it. But I knew in my heart and still do that he is capable of stepping up to the challenge of fatherhood. I'm thankful that he does contribute each pay period to their care without a court order. I am thankful that he wants to take them each weekend to spend time with him. I'm thankful that my heart is open now to allowing him to do it.
I'm thankful that despite our dramatic past, we were both able to forgive each other and move forward. I'm thankful that we're learning the value of mutual respect so that our son and daughter can see it modeled before them. I'm thankful that my children have two parents who love and adore them just for being on the planet.
Six years ago, Marc was every curse word I could muster. He was so far beneath me and my fantasy filled expectations. Today, he is the recipient of my love which flows from my heart because it was placed there by God. I'm thankful I can look at him through eyes of compassion, not fault finding. I'm thankful that when he makes a mistake, I see the intent and not only the action. I'm thankful for a second chance by him to prove that I can love as Christ loves and let my light shine.
I'm thankful that he's the father of my children.
I'm thankful that he's trying to be a better man.
I'm thankful that he wasn't a "walking stereotype" and proved my judgements wrong.
I'm thankful that despite his shortcomings, he never stopped trying to be a father to his children.
When our son Matthew and daughter Caitlyn look to us, I'm thankful that they will see two parents who are fully committed to them and their well being.
I'm thankful that today, the man with the cocked-to-the-side ball cap now has a name, Marcus, my respect,  and a place in my heart and family.

The Laboratory Called Love

I knew there was a reason  I didn't care for the math and sciences in school! There is a part of brain that resists absolutes. Math and science frown upon things that change too much. In algebra, it's called a variable. That gets a symbol.

The constant of an equation, now that gets a numerical value! 

At this point in my life and after talking with a few women who can relate to the up's and down's of love, one thing we can all agree on while trying to put our heads together and solve our relationship problems is this:

Men are the constants and we are the variables.

Good luck getting a man to go to church who isn't already predisposed to doing so. Good luck getting him to agree and GO to counseling. Good luck getting him to understand and apply the knowledge of how to be more "understanding, considerate and affectionate". 

GOOD LUCK! lol!

So that leaves the variable in the equation, us women folk, left trying to adapt, alter and often change our value to "make it work". We already know we'll never solve the problem if we never come up with a value to assign to the variable, even if it's just a symbol.

So many women are TIRED of having to be the one to change for the greater good of the relationship.

"How To Love His Family and Deal with His Moma's Boy Ways"

"How To Spice Up The Romance; Four Inch Heels Required"

"How To Stop Nagging"

"How To Be a Better Competitor in the Race For Your Man's Heart & Attention"

"How To Blend Into The Background So As Not To Disturb Your Man"

"How To Get The Ring He Should Have Given You Two Years Ago"

"How To Keep Yourself Up So As Not To Appear Like A Human Being With Flaws To Your Man"

This may be a bit of an exaggeration and it is purposefully so. But when we read the self help books geared toward relationship advise, they might as well scream these things to us. 

Back in the day, I thought love was all about chemistry.

How does he make me feel? Does he bring passion, desire and heat to the mix? Oh yea! That's a keeper. lol! But the older I got, the more I realized that physical chemistry was just a small fraction of the equation called love.

I'm going to be very honest here and admit that I haven't always felt that the bible was on a woman's side. Let's face it: harlots, widows, and adulteresses come to mind immediately when we think of biblical women. Bathsheba. Delilah. Rahab. Hagar. 

That's quite an impressive line up! lol! More specifically, the whole story of creation was hard for me to reconcile. I didn't understand how God could declare first "it's not God that man should be alone. I will make him an help meet suitable for him" in one verse, and in the next, present Adam with a line up of animals.

Huh?

But the answer is in that same verse:  

"And out of the ground the Lord God formed every [wild] beast and living creature of the field and every bird of the air and brought them to Adam to see what he would call them; and whatever Adam called every living creature, that was its name".

God was testing Adam. Any of the creatures that God created could have been chosen by Adam as a companion. However, Adam called, or as I like to say, "assigned" each living creature its name after his close examination and observation of it. Once God saw that Adam had wisely assigned living creatures for each other but for himself he did not choose a living creature, God trusted him with a new creation: Eve. Let me just throw this in for FREE: Whenever you refuse something that does not fit your life, you then give God permission to create a NEW THING for you! 

Adam had to understand and know HIMSELF before he could recognize his own help! Women will never be treated well by a man who has not discovered what exactly it is that he needs and what's missing from his life. Had Adam misnamed a single creature, I do not believe God would have released Eve to him. Proverbs declares, "Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing and obtaineth favor from the Lord." That word "findeth" in the Hebrew means "to acquire, to find out" and "to detect". Not every man can detect who his wife is. He may choose the pretty face or the alluring speech. But the BIBLE says a man who detects a WIFE detects a good thing. There is FAVOUR connected to the position of wife. Girlfriend is NOT a position of favour. Mistress is not a position of  favour.  I am not a girlfriend. I am not a mistress. Women who allow their men to continue in relationships with them apart from giving them the honor of WIFE are being disrespected. No wife has to argue in the streets with a mistress. No wife has to beg a judge to legitimize her relationship with a man. The position has honor on earth and FAVOUR from heaven. 

So God is very much concerned about women. It wasn't until Adam demonstrated a keen sense of discernment and understanding of his own strengths, weaknesses and needs that God custom made a helper for Him based on what Adam spoke about everything else God made. Women weren't made by mistake and unlike any other creature that God made, women were specifically designed by God for men; not for anything else. That's why when a man correctly discerns the gift that rests in a woman, he unlocks favour from God and blessing into his own life. 

Oh Death...

I've spent since February 14 battling three major illnesses in my house: RSV, influenza and bronchitis.
I've had a chance to reflect during this time and one thing I am so certain of is that there are some things in life that money just can't buy but time makes an acceptable method of payment. I'm no stranger to sacrificing for the sake of my children and I'm not one of those mothers who spends a lot of time bemoaning those sacrifices. There will be no songs penned along the lines of Pastor Shirley Caesar's "No Charge" over here. It's all par for the course. But I will say that decisions that I'm now having to make as the mother of two preschoolers are changing.
While spending these past few weeks nursing my children back to health, I've had the pleasure of observing my them more closely and hearing their thoughts. One of the hardest subjects that came up recently was death. How in the WORLD do you articulate the meaning of death to a 3 & 4 year old respectively? And quite frankly, who wants to? Who wants to see the joy leave their eyes as you try to explain that someone closes their eyes, stops moving, goes away, and you don't see or talk to them anymore?
What a terrible, ugly, painful thing to have to explain for the first time to children.

I hate it.

I was six years old when she passed away. I can vaguely remember my parents recounting the events to me. Something about she went downstairs during bible study... she collapsed. She wouldn't be coming back. She died. I remember going to school and telling my teacher that she passed away. I can remember staring out my school bus window looking out into a world that looked and felt gray. I felt a pain that was foreign to me. Someone I loved had died.
I remember my mama coming into the room that my sister and I shared, trying to comfort us. She explained to me that "Sister Choice", as we called her, was sleeping in paradise. I can remember imagining her dressed in white, laying in the midst of a field of endless flowers, asleep...peaceful...resting. And I can remember going to the funeral home and seeing faces that had always smiled at me before, weeping, tear stained... in pain. I remember seeing her in her casket from a distance. My mama asked me did I want to see her. I couldn't go look. I didn't want to. This foreign pain was too much. The woman I loved was suddenly a source of fear to me. I wanted to get away from her lifeless body...but I wanted her to come back. I can remember the first Sunday after her funeral, sitting on her pew.. left hand side of the church, second pew. Every time the door opened, I turned and looked back, waiting for her to come. I looked in the choir stand at more tear stained faces. I can remember sitting in her seat, somehow comforted by the familiarity of being where she once sat. I don't remember when it finally dawned on me that she wouldn't come back. She wouldn't hold me anymore and give me candy. She wouldn't be there to comfort me when I cried and let me lay on her lap all service long. She was asleep on a bed of flowers in paradise. She was ok, sleeping.
Fast forward 27 yrs later and I find myself having to explain death to two delightfully beautiful children who I don't want to hurt or ever see cry in sorrow.
But sorrow is what this world is full of.
It will come.
I know they don't quite understand it all but just the simple fact that they wanted to know what death meant and listened intently as I tried to explain it in the simplest of terms was bad enough.

I'm so glad I know Jesus!

If it wasn't for the hope of the Gospel, this life really would be worthless and without meaning. When you think about all the precious people we've lost and will lose over our lifetimes, how would we ever survive or gather the strength to face another day with not only hope but JOY if it wasn't for the Gospel of Jesus Christ?I look forward to the day when I can explain to them that because of Jesus Christ, the sting of death has been removed and when it's mommy's time to go, they need not worry or fear. The same God whose presence I will stand before will comfort and guide them as He guided me. That right there brings so much joy to me.

He didn't leave us comfortless!

There will be many more tough topics for me to tackle, This is only the beginning.
But the blessed assurance that I have is that the same God who comforted and 6 yr old little girl through her first loss is the SAME God who will meet the now 33 yr old woman and her two children and carry them through whatever comes.
If Sis. Edith could see me now, I believe that she would smile first at how tall I am, and of course, admire all of my minor accomplishments in life. But most of all, she would rejoice to know that the God that she served became my Savior just one year after her death and He still is. She would be thankful that I held on through my doubts, fears and failures and trusted the God she worshipped. Though I only had her in my life for 6 years, she would be delighted to see that the love she sowed grew and the mother I am today is in large part because of the motherly love she deposited into me: the patience, compassion, respect and grace. It didn't fall on deaf little ears but it took root and I'm the woman that I am today because of her great legacy of love. If she were here today, she would tell me to keep going, even when it gets hard. Hold to God's unchanging hand.
He holds our world in His hands...
And He won't let go,

All These New Relationship Gurus: I'm Just Sayin!

 They appear to be everywhere now. The best sellers lists, media and magazines are buzzing with once playas turned relationship gurus dishing out advice like scoops of ice cream on a hot summer day. We all know who they (HE!!) are so there's no need for me to name drop. But I do have an opinion that I don't mind sharing.
First of all, when you take it upon yourself to give advice on a large scale, you also open yourself up to closer examination. Folks want to know, and rightly so, what qualifies you to share what you know. Show us your credentials.  And what can I say about these men who because they so love women are being so selfless and writing books and making millions? It is for our benefit after all that they toil over a cocktail and cigar while dictating their wisdom to a professional writer.
Yea, I'm being just a tad bit sarcastic. lol!
But what's really getting to me? Do I care about someone writing a book and making a profit?
No.
What's getting me is that a certain generation of men appear to have taken leave of their senses and left broken homes and lives in their wake. And as a way of somehow attempting to make up for their decades of selfishness, they attempt to show the world how they're now "getting it right" with the new wife, the new kids, and the new family...and squeeze in a few book tours to boot.

Hmm.

But wouldn't it be a greater testament to a man's character and integrity to build back what he tore down and write about that process?
It's not so much that they left but that now that they're gone, they are on a campaign to vindicate themselves while holding up the "new life" as the gold standard by which all should measure their success.
Really? Seriously?
So many women and children are insulted. So many families are broken because so many men refuse to clean up what they mess up WHERE they messed it up.

I saw a young girl on The Dr. Phil show, only 15 yrs old who had already gotten pregnant and miscarried because her father literally abandoned her after the divorce and his remarriage. When she did go to visit him and his new wife, she was immediately made aware of the fact that she was a unwelcome consequence of her father's past and he even went so far as to say he would terminate his parental rights due to the strain on his new family and his daughter's out-of-control behavior. He saw an "ungrateful little b*tch". I saw a little girl screaming at her daddy to come back.   I also saw a 15 yr old young lady who was offended by her father's ability to treat her like the old sofa that no longer matched the new furniture.
Am I saying that men should not divorce and remarry? No, and even if I did, what would that change? lol! But I am saying that it's not a testimony of any man's strength of character and integrity to move on from a mess he contributed to and then tout that his new relationship is somehow the blueprint of success. I think that's the overwhelming vibe a lot of women are feeling as we sit and read the works of these gurus and experts.
You're happy now. Great.
And who paid the bill for your newly purchased happiness?

Don't kid yourselves women. You're always a saint until you become the Ex. And that goes back to the competitive nature of relationships that I've observed. Why does each new relationship have to be compared against the previous one? Why do some men feel the need to prove the new spouse is "better" than the previous one? At some point, we all have to concede that 10 exes had one common denominator and that was YOU.
What I believe our society needs is a resurgence of men who aren't cowards but look their mistakes in the face and FIX them. If you cheated on your woman and abandoned her and your children, go back to the scene of the crime and make it right. So what she doesn't immediately believe your sincerity?! So what she's angry and hostile for what seems like eternity?! Most women know and assume that a man's behavior towards her has a time limited & time frame. "I tried to show her I was sorry but nothing changed so I'm out". And guess what? Nobody understands this mentality better than a woman. We were left alone to face the questioning of Almighty God in the Garden after the infamous "the woman u gave me" cop out, it comes as no real shock to us when a man refuses to accept responsibility for his actions and predicates his righteousness on a woman's actions. Every woman who has ever loved a man has at some point questioned the motive behind that man's good deeds. Is he doing right for right's sake or for what right will profit him? Until real men can stare their own consequences in the face and deal with them, our families will always face challenges. Get over your need for instant gratification. That's what got you into the mess in the first place! What does it say to a child, a woman, and family when a man comes back and says "I know I messed up and I know it won't be easy to fix but I'm here to build".
I'll tell you what it says...

YOU'RE WORTH IT!

No wonder so many (myself included) battle with issues of self worth. Who told us and showed us that we were worth the effort? Which parent? Which ex boyfriend? Which ex husband? Which spiritual leader?
Who showed us we were worth fighting for?
And who left?

I have way more respect for a man who comes back and rebuilds the home he helped to tear down than the man who runs and hides in another one.

That's a book I'll read and recommend.

The Love, The Game...

If love is a game then men and women often find themselves on opposing teams. Truth is I have felt in past relationships and my most recent one that the man in my life viewed me as his enemy at worst and his competition at best. In the case of my children's father, there's an invisible score board and shot clock between us. "Buying the kids expensive Christmas gifts"...lay up. "Offering to take them on the weekends"... two point jumper. "Being the custodial parent"... three pointer.
Truth is I don't want love to be a game and I don't want to score points for being the woman and the mother I thought I was supposed to be.
Likewise, I'm tired of him feeling like the game is over because he can't make the free throws of expensive gifts and stability.

Why are we competing anyway?

Who told us that our children's love and affection was a prize instead of blessing? Since the love of a child is unconditional by nature anyway, who told us it was something we had to compete for? I don't need an elbow to the face every Christmas time when he's able to buy more gifts than me and I certainly don't feel like committing a technical foul against him just because I take time off work to nurse a sick child. Can't we all just grow up and can't we all just get over ourselves?
Communication has always been poor between my children's father and I and for all my elloquence of speech, I've never been able to find a way to convey my true heart and intentions to him. Somehow or another, my intentions get lost in translation and all that gets processed are words like "snob", "controlling" and "hypocrite". I may be tough but words run deep with me. I'm a wordsmith so when someone chooses certain adjectives and directs them at me, I don't simply brush them aside as meaningless. What would cause a person to say or assume these things about me?
One things for sure. I am not intentionally raising my two children without the help of their father. I didn't sign up to do it alone but that's exactly where I've found myself. However, when you find yourself being the responsible person in the relationship, be prepared to also be labeled as the controlling one. You're the bad guy who prefers paid rent over new gadgets and toys. You suck all the fun out of pay days with your incessant need to be fiscally responsible and studious. God forbid you blow at least one paycheck on something fun and then spend the next week pushing the panic button, trying to figure out how to make ends meet. You make men feel like a child with your always correcting words like, "Maybe we should try to put something back for gas or not spend so much here and put the extra money there". You are a mature adult and that unfortunately makes you an opponent.
Love is not a game to me. Is it complicated? Intricate? Demanding? Commanding? Yes, it is. But one thing it is not is a competition. I don't love my children to spite their father. I love them because they have been given to me by God to love and nurture. I thought when I became a mother that I was supposed to be one and that included making them of a high priority and making sure that they were raised in the most loving and safe environment possible. That's what I thought. But somewhere along the line, it became a game to their father and I.

I don't want to play anymore.

Tax Time: The Folly Foolishness

The bible clearly tells us that the LOVE of money is the root of all evil. However, no time of year seems to drive this point home better than TAX TIME!!! OMG!
Single moms know what I'm talking about here.
First of all, let me be frank and honest. We know that there are those among us in our society who take advantage of the system. We also know that these people make out like masked bank robbers come tax time. How do they do this? Well, those who do not work all year lend out their children's social security numbers to those who do work and strike side deals in the process. For example, some will say, "if I let you claim my kids, you can hold this much and I'll take that much". So ultimately, the person who doesn't work and the person that is claiming children they NEVER raised and sometimes doesn't even KNOW walk away with a little change.
But you also have the scenario of the baby daddies who were virtual ghosts all year long who suddenly have these "come to Jesus" moments somewhere around New Years, has found a new sense of commitment to family and children and a major expense around $1000 that must be taken care of immediately, or as soon as your refund check clears.

These both would qualify as FOLLY FOOLISHNESS!
This is a term my sister and I coined because sometimes, folly or foolishness alone just don't give all the necessary emphasis. It's sort of like another word that I coined called "monkeydom". Monkeydom is the behavior that some people display that resembles that of PRIMATES. It doesn't make good sense, it's reckless, it's irresponsible, it's destructive. It's MONKEYDOM. It's a state of being. lol!
Follyfoolishness and monkeydom are closely related in my opinion because both demonstrate a lack of GOOD SENSE!
I don't understand for the life of me how folks who do not take care of children expect to be able to claim them. I do not understand fathers who do not have custody of their children nor do they spend a significant amount of time with their children expect at tax time to somehow be given a "cut".
When this season is over and that will be SOON, I will be so glad.
Now, at the beginning of this motherhood thing, I got guilted right up on out of my refund checks. After all, I didn't know any better and the last thing I wanted to appear was wrong and somehow unfair. Hehe. That was then. At this point, after some real living, I couldn't care less about anyone's bad attitude and feelings of unfairness.
Sure, it irks me, but it doesn't move me to action. lol!
And another thing...
Grown folks who pay real bills and have real responsibilities breathing down their necks 7 days a week barely bat an eye at a refund check. I'll never forget the first time my tax preparer, Danny, "announced" the amount I was getting back from my two children. He said, "Are you sittin down?" and paused for emphasis. LOL! When he finally gave his imaginary drum roll and revealed the amount, I barely blinked. That was because I realized that the amount would barely cover daycare for a year and wasn't nearly enough to pay of any major bills. Yawn. On to the next issue please!
So no one will be happier than SISTER MELISSA to see the END of tax season. My desire now and from now on is to honor God in my living as well as my giving. Before tax time rolled around, I committed to tithing again. Now tithing isn't something I talk about much because at one point in my life, I stopped doing it and was against it. However, just live on a little while. If something is right and true and you LOVE what's right and what's true, even if you're wrong, God will bring it right on back to you and that's what He did for me in 2010. So after receiving a personal revelation on tithing... *pause* You see, you can preach the principle of tithing but until people get a personal revelation, they'll never do it or understand it. *push play* I decided to totally restructure the way I dealt with money in my household and the way I think about it. God comes first. I honor Him FIRST. And you know what? I'm not saying that everything was paid, the money tree in the backyard blossomed and I had money to scatter. But provision was ALWAYS there for me. My children always had food to eat, the car always had gas, and the lights stayed on. There were many days I didn't have two nickels to rub together in my pocket but the peace I found in knowing I honored God FIRST with my tithe gave me the assurance and CONFIDENCE to say, "God, I am honoring YOU FIRST. I need You to make a way for me and my children!" He's never failed me YET!
So, while folks are literally flippin out all around me over these refund checks, I'm just thankful to have the understanding that I do. I'm thankful that I realize now that behind the job, the car, the house and the groceries is the HAND OF GOD. Had He not given these things to me, I surely would not possess them. Everything is a gift that I am now appreciative of. The health and strength that I and my children have, the shelter, clothing, food and transportation are all blessings that I don't take for granted anymore. I could be putting my children to bed on a cot in a homeless shelter surrounded by strangers but every night, I tuck them in their own beds in their own rooms... as a single mom.
Aint God a good God?
And so I don't get testy or indignant when it comes to paying my tithes anymore. Why? Because I'm grateful and I realize that if it wasn't for God helping me through this life, I wouldn't have anything that I have and my children certainly wouldn't be living as they are under my care were it not for His grace.
So I'd like to encourage everyone who may read to just take the time to consider how this year, you can honor God for all that He's done for you. Maybe you were blessed with a better job this year and a nicer car to drive. Maybe you've FINALLY arrived at a place of peace after a long and difficult relationship. Maybe you're just thankful to have a positive bank balance, even if it says ZERO. Wherever you find yourself this year, how can you tell the Lord thank you? How can you demonstrate to Him with your words AND deeds that you do not take any blessing for granted?
That's something to think about besides who to claim and what to right off on your taxes. lol!

Shackin Up: Let's Go There

Source

Ooh, you know the saints is scurred to go here! lol! But I'm certainly not afraid of the murky topics that beset the modern day church of our Lord.
Let's go ahead and put it out there...
 Not only is the divorce rate high, but the rate of unmarried couples and cohabiting households has steadily increased.

I used to be one of them.

I'm not here to condemn but mainly to give my perspective based on my experience.

First, let me say that living with a man is certainly way different than living apart and maintaining a relationship. I can tell you that it's a whole lot harder to get over a rough patch when you have to stare the rough patch in the face every night and smell his morning breath. It's also very similar to a marriage. I happen to live in one of the handful of states that still recognizes common law marriages as legally binding. Thankfully, I nor my exes ever took the extra steps that would have solidified this type of union but sharing a house key was enough. When it came time to part ways, it felt eerily like a divorce.

In a way, cohabiting has become the new "wedding day".
Let me just give u my honest take on it...

• Cohabiting appears to be the easiest and most cost effective next step in a relationship. For starts, it gives a woman the false sense of progress and commitment, after all, they're sharing bills, beds, and closest space. He's giving up a degree of privacy and secrecy which he maintained while living apart and what woman, desperate for an upgrade to her current relationship's plan, wouldn't sign up for what appears to be a down payment on a marriage?

• Unfortunately, a lot of women find out the hard way that shackin up often becomes a curse instead of a blessing. In my case, my ex took an "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" attitude and saw shackin as a mutually fulfilling and adequate compromise that left the both of us holding most of what we wanted. But what I discovered was that he had ALL of what he wanted, not most. He had the comfort of home, the comfort of me, the assurance that I was all his, the appearance of a marriage without the responsibility of it. When it comes to marriage, I think most men view it as a cage, a trap, a bottomless pit of gloom and despair to be avoided at all cost and only surrendered to when he has less than 10 years left in his lifespan. Dramatic? Maybe. But for some women, reality.

•  Shackin isn't a solution or bridge that carries you over to marriage. It can be a pit that you struggle to pull your relationship out of. If finances are a problem singularly, they won't improve dually.  When two different spending habits meet under the same roof, rarely does that roof stay nailed down. Ask any two income household just how much easier two incomes makes their quality of life, particularly when deep seated financial management issues persist. Don't buy into the lie that shackin improves ones quality of life. Not so.
• Also, shackin is not a marriage. It feels like one, looks, smells and sometimes acts like one. But unless you're in a common law state, it is not a marriage and I would take a closer look at any man who would go right to the door of marriage but refuse to step on in. What is it, a fear of licenses? Make it official. Do not accept counterfeits and knock offs.

In my opinion, shackin is a BAD idea. I'm sure there are those who would disagree and who have gone on to enjoy delightfully successful (ok, was the word "delightfully" sprinkled with just a tad too much hate? lol!) marriages. You can almost always find a silver lining behind every dark cloud. But for the average lady like me with the average man, like the one I had, who was just a tad bit on the immature and non-committal side, shackin does us no huge favors.

I also found that living with the father of my children was not the healthiest decision for our children. We argued and fought a lot, mainly because as most men do, he wanted the reigns but I wasn't about to give the keys of the relationship to a reckless driver. The decision to go our separate ways as far as living arrangement was concerned was probably one of the most adult and responsible decisions we ever made. Once 9-1-1 is dialed, even once, it's time to rethink the decision.

Co-habiting couples and families cannot be denied or ignored. Unfortunately, they have largely been overlooked by the church. Too many saints are still on the fake and phony kick which believes that no one is breaking a commandment or committing a sin in God's house and if we simply overlook it, we won't have to deal with it. But as youth departments grow with children who have different last names than their mothers and fathers and pews swell with single parents, I'd say it's time to deal.

I don't have all the answers to what plagues us but I do know from experience that there is NOTHING that God cannot do nor that the Light of His Word cannot illuminate. There is a way out of the darkness. There is a way back to the right track. Ok, so I had two children before taking the stroll down the aisle. Does that disqualify me from the Kingdom? Absolutely not! Does that mean that once wrong, always wrong? Absolutely not! How do couples who find themselves in co-habitating arrangements get back into the will and purpose of God for them?

That's what needs to be discussed in pulpits. It's time to see the people who are in the pews and HELP them.

These are homes. There are children in the middle. Simply declaring, "leave him, leave her" does not fix what's broken. For those who aren't shacking, I'd strongly suggest they remain as they are. Sure, it makes good financial sense to share living expenses, but if marriage is your desire, don't fool yourself.

Whether you agree with co-habiting, shackin' or whatever you call it, the Church must open her eyes to the needs of these families. They are real. They exist. And they are growing.

The Church of our Lord must arise in the strength and wisdom of our Lord to address the needs of God's people and equip these families so that they too can be the recipients of the grace of God and advance the Kingdom of God.