Ugly. (Part 2...before Part 1)

I carry a beauty inside that I do not understand.

I have never thought of myself as an especially attractive person, but I do see a beauty when I look into my own reflection. I see beauty in most things, actually. There is beauty in the embrace of two enemies. In the giggle of a carefree child. In the random, purposeful flight pattern of a butterfly. Even in the surprising crescendo of melody during the bridge of a song. It’s as if a surge of emotion comes from a hidden place inside of you, and for a moment, you connect with God’s original design. Sometimes, I’ll want to stay and linger, because it feels like I am literally walking through the Garden with Him. It feels familiar; like I am back in a place where I am welcome. Home.

I tend to hide in the background.

Even though I stand at an even six feet, I am most comfortable preparing others for their individual callings for greatness. I’ve had moments where I’ve witnessed God’s light within my own soul. However, I try my best to shy away from it after a while, because I do not want to get contented with the idea that God wants to dwell permanently within me. I understand that for salvation and righteousness purposes, God wants to set up his dominion. He wishes to have complete Lordship over my heart, and to this, I gladly comply. Still, I am uneasy with the fact that He not only wants to own me, but He wants to live in and through me.

A landlord is not required to live in the same apartment complex as his tenants, but a good landlord will commit to the well-being of those who live there. The landlord who lives among his tenants wishes to be readily available to them. I will never understand why Christ saved my soul, only to set up a gorgeous palace in the center of its ruins, and then rest there.

He is my beauty.
He’s the beauty that I do not understand.
...That I am scared to death to live without...

No Longer a Bridesmaid...

I loved to play dress up as a little girl.

I can picture myself placing my tiny feet into my mother’s high heels, draping her long dresses over my small body, and pretending that I was a kind mother or a strong wife. My favorite character to play dress up in was a bride on her wedding day. I clearly recall my mother pulling out her wedding dress from the back of her closet; carefully removing it from its clear, plastic bag and smoothing out the impressed wrinkles. She would gaze retrospectively at the dress; recalling how she felt on that day. I have had many talks with her, as well as many young women, about my anticipation towards wearing this special garment myself one day. No matter my relationship status, I possess a secret desire to don this piece of clothing that represents honor, beauty, and grace.

I’m surrounded by a culture that marries young, and I have yet to make significant strides towards that walk down the aisle. Somewhere around the entrance of my 24th birthday, I began to get slightly depressed about how distant I am from getting married. I talk frequently with 21 and 22 year olds who have recently tied the knot, and they (though enduring their share of problems that come along with getting married young) seem to be so grounded in their Love for one another. A part of me feels like I haven’t earned this privilege yet; the privilege of being committed to. That despite the hardships that are promised with being in Love, I haven’t arrived at the level to where I can wear that beautiful wedding dress and declare that I have someone who wants to Love me unconditionally. I can only be one of the bridesmaids; those who can celebrate and advocate for Love, but cannot relate to the demonstration taking place between the Groom and his Bride.

Participating in the celebration, but unable to take ownership of this Love.

Revelation 19:7-8 (English Standard Version)
7Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready;
8it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure"—for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.

I have been so enamored by the timing that I will wear a physical wedding dress, that I have forgotten that I am already clothed. I am adorned in my spirit with grace, beauty, and honor through His salvation and holiness. My spiritual linens are pure and white, and every day my heart is being prepared for the day that He (my Groom) will return for me. Each moment that I commune with Him, I am reminded that before any man decides to declare his lifelong Love to me, I already hold the promise to “Love, honor, and protect” from God. Eternally. He has always loved me. He is my First Love. I am already a Bride….His. There is no “until death, do us part” in my Groom and I’s vows.

I am His now, and for always.

A Hope Above All Hope

What an uncertain, faulty world we live in.
It's like the things that we should be able to depend on, prove to be as undependable as the things we EXPECT to disappoint us.

Our jobs aren't secure. Our relationships can fail tomorrow by one lie, too many.
Our homes can be wiped out by hurricanes. The stock market can falter and leave even the wealthiest man destitute.
How can hope abound in a world like this?

Yet, I have a hope. An expectant hope. A hope that seems so untrustworthy, but has stood the test of time.
Many call me insane. Many say it is merely a crutch.
But I know that without this Great Hope, I would have nothing to focus on; past what this world appears to be. The sorrow would have completely overshadowed my soul. Taking me to a place so dark and hopeless, that no amount of familial love or material numbing technique could bring me to contentment.

It took forever to believe in Him. Every time the night was darker than the previous time, I looked to Him, questioning if He would come through for me like He did the time before. And He did. He was there, even when I thought He'd been long gone.

Hebrews 13:5 . . . God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.”

Be.Still. (Part Five -- Disappointment)

I'd never been on a real date before.

The Senior Prom doesn't count, because EVERYONE has a date for the Prom. If I'd gone with my older cousin, I wouldn't count that as a date, right?

It was the summer after high school. I'd just gotten back from Mexico, where I'd done street ministry to some of the poorest children in the small town of Morelia. My friend of 12 years had become my boyfriend by the time we took our final exams. I had gone out of the country for the first time in my life...so I figured I was ready to go on a date.

At the time, I was enrolled in this year-long church program for post high-school grads. I'd moved out of my parents' home, and into a host house with the pastor's older, single daughter. I was under rules and regulations, but dating was not one of them. I was very, very excited to be able to hang out with my guy alone. He'd come to church events, and my parents knew him, for the most part.

I remember that Sunday very well. I invited him to a church event that was held at a school in my hometown. There was entertainment put on by some of the members, and PLENTY of food. The plan was, that he and I were going to go to the movies after the event was over. I'd cleared it with the pastor and his wife two weeks before.

Coming out of the bathroom at the school (I'd changed into jeans and a tshirt), my guy stood near the front doors waiting for me. I suddenly remembered to go say bye to my parents before I left for my date. They replied that I couldn't go on the date, because no one knew about it before hand. I said that my pastor and his wife knew. Clearly upset, my parents confronted them.

And much to my surprise, they replied (with me standing there) that they knew nothing about me going out on a date...at any time...and especially not that day. My head started to spin. With all eyes on me, I simply stood there; speechless. I didn't know what I was more disappointed in: my parents' anger or my church leaders' dishonesty. I turned to look back at the guy...and signaled for him to go on without me.

My mind swam with confusion and hurt. After proving to be an responsible, well-rounded young adult, I was still unafforded the basic pleasure of hanging out with a friend. And I was a 17 year old high school graduate.

This disappointment swelled in the pit of my gut. And it only grew.

This occurance flooded into an array of conversations and lectures. My parents were furious at me for my lack of sound judgement. My pastors declared that I was being drawn down the wrong path, and that I was too carnal for wanting to go out on my very first date.
Finally, a conference was scheduled between my pastors, my parents, and I...

...where I was strongly advised to stop dating this boy. And there was a unified voice in that room, and it spoke that I was going down the wrong path. What I felt was wrong.

There is a vivid memory that continues to haunt my dreams.

And it happened as soon as the meeting was over...

I remember going into the empty bathroom of my church and crying my eyes out. I held my hands tightly across my mouth and weeped sour, broken tears into the floor. I asked God for clarity. I wanted to know why this was happening to me, and why I did not see it coming. I could physically feel a battle going on inside of me. It wasn't that I felt I could not live without this guy. That wasn't it at all. It was that I had absolutely no clue what is truly righteous and good. Somehow, I'd lacked the spiritual fortitude to see the darkness (or the light, for that matter) inside of my own soul. I wanted to possess my own faith. Have it to be MINE.

But it didn't belong to me, it belonged to those who felt they knew better than I did.

And that belief was lorded over me. Making me dizzy with disappointment.

I was in an unsound place. A place where a hope was dangled in front of my eyes, but then snatched away...where I am then told that this hope wasn't really mine to begin with.

The notion of hope deferred still tends to trip me up. My mind immediately goes back to a picture of me: confused and decieved. But I shake that lie out of my mind...remembering that I contain the potential to grasp growth, beauty, wisdom, and true grace, as well as the evidence that points towards my own personal relationship with God. I should only be still and tap into it...

So, disappointment teaches me this:
Fear no man, only God. Because He is the only one who can change the direction of the wind. Trust Him.

All.

I took a Psychology of Religion course a couple of semesters ago; where we surveyed each major world religion. It was incredibly informative and I left with not only a knowledge of other faiths, but a confirmed foundation of my own Faith. I know most people are wary of the topic "religion", but I wanted to explain its role in my life.

I grew up in church, basically. Knew the stories of Noah, Abraham, and Jesus before I mastered my times tables. By 17, I could quote scripture, and even taught lessons for youth and prison inmates. At some point in my late adolescence, I finally mentally understood that there was something to religion that surpassed deeds. I felt something tugging at the strings of my heart.

I thought, mind you, that I was doing okay. I'd overcome depression, suicidal thoughts, a broken home, and the death of my brother...all without the depth of spirituality. Right? Why would a young woman, coming into her own and realizing her identity, need to grow closer to the God of her faith? I mean, I was a good, well-mannered teen. I volunteered places, didn't curse, smoke, or drink, and I was a virgin. I'd done all I could to be a good person, so what else is there?

As soon as I graduated high school, things started to happen. In me and around me.

Example:
I watched the church that I grew up in become more and more occultish and spiritually manipulative. Disunity ensued and people begin to stop attending. Families were broken a part. Those who stayed either began to take on the attitude of the leadership (by demonizing or shunning those who left), or became helplessly subjected to the others. My family was the latter. I struggled in my faith, but stayed and served on many ministries at the church. Saw/heard things that rocked me to my core. Witnessed ungodly, unethical, and illegal practices that made me question the sovereignty of the God of my faith. My life became like clay to my church leaders, and decisions that I made were guided by their counsel. Those church splits and that ministry as a whole has deeply wounded many people. Some of which have completely seperated themselves from Christianity. I considered it.

I remember numerous dark nights where I yelled and screamed at God; asking Him where was He when all of this was happening...or when my parents' marriage was crumbling...or while my brother lay on the side of the road dying...

Instead of getting an explanation from God, I recieved understanding. Now usually, an explanation or a reason for an event will give us understanding. But this time, I gained understanding (not right away) without getting a literal answer. But I had to be willing to want the understanding...

I could not be the same teenager who looked at my faith as a classification. Or a check-box on a job application. Because there is more. It is more.
It wasn't enough to give a percentage of my heart to God. Or my mental understanding. He wanted more. But how much exactly?

All.

This has been the test of my entire life. And it continues to be.
Every trial and circumstance has been to make me stronger, better, and wiser...but also to draw my heart closer to His.

I am only 23 years old...so there isn't much that I know for sure about love and life. But there is one thing that I am absolutely sure of: God loves me.

This is my testimonial. Of what it is meant by "Not a religion, but a relationship."

Conservative.

I had a dream that conservatives
were hanging blacks and beating up homosexuals.
Well-to-do Christians committing atrocities
In the name of their Lord and Savior.
Advocates of the Moral Majority
in crisp suits and cold hands.
Establishing organizations to ensure
The freedom of "private citizens" above
The goodwill of "all mankind".

I saw them disappear into corporate buildings,
but never darkening the gateways of ghettos, prisons,
and homeless shelters.
I dared to look into the eyes of my brothers and sisters
And I saw them look back at me with eyes of disdain.
I represent a potential enemy.
A liability unless I move to the right neighborhood.

One of them opened his palm to me.
Showed me a bar of gold and said,
"See here? This is America. Land Where God dwells."
My eyes sparkled and saw opportunity.
"We could use one of you" he said, eying me carefully.
I smiled and felt the chains tangled around my ankle loosen...
...but stay put.

I walked with him.
And he showed me
the amber waves of grain,
and purple mountain majesties.
He took me to observe the beauty of
America's land.
He waved his hand dramatically;
a tear formed and fell from his eyes.
I wanted to see it. I did.
But all I saw was soil drenched with
the color red.
Vivid to my eyes,
So the pride that swelled in his chest
confused me.
Yet, the more I dwell on these thoughts
I could see the color on his face growing more pale...
and the chain on my ankle grow tighter.
So, I dare not speak.

I bravely continued to walk at his side.
As we trekked across the landscape...
He proceeded to share his gospel with me,
While I clenched the tarnished cross that my
great-grandmother gave me in my quivering black fist....

Be.Still. (Part Four -- Weariness)

Worse than a lazy man, is a weary one who has lost motivation.
Many times I have confused the two...
I've looked at a homeless man sitting on the side of the road and jumped to the conclusion that this must be a man who would rather someone else do his work for him. But that may not be the case...
...what if, in fact, this is a broken man? Who at one point ran the race with endurance, but then somehow got weary and gave up?

Now, I look into the eyes of that homeless man and I'm suddenly struck with empathy.
How close am I to matching his demeanor/mindset?

I am tired.
Well-rested, nourished, and active,
but weary. Running full speed on a full stomach and an empty tank.
I have not lost heart....because it has been trained though years of experiencing trials, but my MIND is revolting against me.

There is SO MUCH to think about, consider, worry over, plan, configure, and engage into.

...with 24 days until graduation, four months until graduate school, and a million other deadlines in between, I hear these words echoing inside my head:

"I don't know how much more I can take".

If I'm not engrossed in academic pursuits, then I am mulling over summer plans and money woes. Or the billion details concerning being an RA again next year. Or thinking about my mother's health/recovery. Or people that I need to meet and talk to. Or the state of my friendships. Etc. I try to pray over the clamor, but they all rush back into place once I utter "Amen". Why? Because no one else should carry my load but me. Right?

My arms and legs, though ripped from bearing my responsibilities, are fatigued and failing me.
I feel pieces of my academics slipping out from their neatly-arranged places; falling to the ground. Bit by bit, my well-guarded thought life drifts out of its alignment; no longer a safe haven.
Hope, piece by piece, slips away and shatters to the ground.

Just as I am about to completely give way, I drop to my knees and lay each burden. Every responsibility. All of my concerns, worries, and obligations. And lay them at the feet of Jesus.
I do not move, save the quivering of my shoulders as I weep from exhaustion.
Without one word spoken, I am swept up into the arms of my Savior. Closer to Him than I've been in a while. Close enough to see the scars on His hands and the stripes on His upper back and shoulders. The empathy in His eyes.

Weariness taught me something:
....when I am weak, He is strong. Christ bore it all. All of it. So He's strong enough. He really is enough.

The True Meaning of Christmas.

There is a lot of aspects about the holiday season that I despise. And there are parts that I look forward to every year. But, the thing that saddens me the most isn't that we've replaced a Newborn Christ with a fictional Santa Claus, it's that those who know the true significance of the holiday make no room for Him. We say the same thing that the dozens of innkeepers said to His parents that same night: "There's no room in the inn." We stuff the Savior of the world into a stuffy, dirty barn filled with smelly animals. We think the King of the Universe isn't precious enough to have the best. Instead of being born and placed in royal linens and given the treatment of a King, we afford Him only a used feeding trough and a soiled cloth. Doesn't He deserve more. Doesn't he deserve our best? For who He is alone, doesn't he deserve the Palace of our heart...and not the barn?

As you celebrate this holiday season, with all of its glitter and chaos...make sure that Jesus is at the center of it all. This holiday, like all holidays are to commemorate something important...Christmas is about Christ. Let us be thankful that although He came through humble means...He DID COME. For one purpose: to save Mankind. Remember this, and let it permeate our hearts throughout this season and into the new year.

Happy & Blessed Holidays to you and yours...

Enjoy reading one of my favorite Christmas carols...

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Gossip.

A very disheartening fact about Americans is that we crave drama.
More specifically: Young Americans.
We aren't satisfied unless we are rallying for, protesting against, or stirring up some sort of meaningless, yet personally significant episode. And I am amazed at how easily things "pop off".
Whether it be through a phone call or the infamous Facebook note/wall post/posted item, we have a sick fetish towards disagreement. Point blank, Americans, and human beings for that matter, are not naturally prone towards harmony.

In fact, I gather that whenever possible, we would rather divide. Especially against our own kind. We seek to specify a new club or denomination or ideal to suit our tendency to follow fads. And not for real change, mind you. Simply to be disagreeable.
Confused? Let me explain...

There is one race, theoretically: the Human Race.
Because of environmental/genetic factors, skin shades differentiated and with a hearty cue from society and the Tower of Babel...races/languages were made. Because of envy and greed (not to mention population surges), there wasn't enough room for humans to live in one place, so they sought to find other land. It became a competition and a source for war and carnage.

A culture became established by the amount of land that they ruled over.
Fast forward century's upon century's later, and a group of guys on a ship called the Mayflower decide to "bargain" this huge continent off of some natives. As more and more various people groups migrate (whether by choice or by force) to America, the more categorized America became. As the US grew older, diversity flourished. But racism and prejudice grew, also. We are no longer known by just our skin color. We have shade discrepancies between races (i.e. African Americans). There are socioeconomic divides. There are social divides. Political divisions.

While these categories are supposed to provide uniqueness and choice for Americans, they actually give us more reasons to dislike each other.


Getting back to my point: Disharmony. It is in our nature. We have a tendency to complain, and not just simply change and evolve. Chaos is the best way to get our attention. Maybe that's why God allows the world to be like it is...Maybe it's why He doesn't intervene in most cases. We look for Him more often in times of darkness, right? But I'm getting off track again.

I believe if Disharmony had a mode of transportation, it would be Gossip. Take inventory, if you will, at the minutes we spend on the phone with friends/loved ones. The large majority of those minutes are spent gossiping. I don't mean giving information with the sole intent to inform...I mean an exchange of dialogue that seeks to draw one's own personal conclusions about a matter.

Idle talk, basically.

Discussing other people, meanwhile tearing them down, speaking of people in a manner that requires a defense. Holding a verbal trial and simultaneously declaring them guilty.

It is meaningless and is, 90% of the time, false. It's false because it is usually a regurgitation of previously passed down information. And just like regurgitated food loses the original amount of nutrients, gossip lacks the complete knowledge of a situation.

And we are so hypocritical. We will be quick to defend our privacy but freely discuss the circumstances and character of other people. Anyone who has been the victim of a vicious rumor knows that it is quite difficult to bounce back from it.

The saddest thing is though (going back to my original thought), most of us fall into gossip by listening to it, and not spreading it. Its easier to listen to gossip than it is to spread it. Why do we sit and listen to it?? Because a part of us likes that someone else is having a hard time. Mostly because it takes our minds (not to mention the minds of others) off our own mistakes. We can finally take the righteous role! [And man...does it ever feel good.] In rare instances are we hurt by hearing gossip. Nevertheless, we enjoy the shock. And we rejoice in it.

"Love doesn't not rejoice in evil..but rejoices in the truth."

We don't know the first thing about love...

That's why gossip is so lethal. Because it is enticing.
So beware. And keep your mouth shut for a change.

Proverbs 17:28

Even a fool is thought wise if he keeps silent,
and discerning if he holds his tongue.

Giving.Up.

At some point last night...I snapped.

I don't want to do it anymore.
Even after a recent 2 1/2 day break from classes...I, for the first time this semester,
want to give up. I am just plain tired.
Mentally. Physically. Emotionally.
Tired of staring eyes. Tired of haughty, hard-headed, disrespectful Freshman.
Tired of a million things on my daily to-do list.
Tired of seeing my roommate go to bed after 2 am because she has no choice.
[I am tired for her.]

Tired of always having to be all things to all men.
Advocate.
Counselor.
Friend.
Disciplinarian.
Coach.
Shepherd.
Student.
Girlfriend.
Daughter.
Adult.
Woman.
Black.

Tired of always being expected to rise above it all.
Being the bigger person.
Turning the other cheek.

Tired of seeing my love struggle...
...watching him hang on to a small strand of hope.
Sometimes I don't know how he manages to hang on.
[Today, he threw down his pencil in disgust and said, "I give up."
I'm tired of acting like that doesn't hurt me in some strange way.]

Tired of seeing young, educated black students
act like they are untouchable.
As if they aren't one second away from poverty, or illegitimacy.

I am tired of shallow Faith and being forced into unfulfilling worship.
Sick of being patient for revival.

I'm tired of loud cliques and lonely faces.
Tired of gossip and slander.
Tired of fake smiles and those who act like they respect you.

I am tired of praying for strength...I just simply want to Be.
I wish to just spend my days in gratitude...but these weak hands and feeble knees distract me.

::Sigh::

I give up.
Completely, this time.
God? Do you hear me??!!

...I give up.
Now please...do it through me.

Psalm 127:1

Unless the Lord builds the house,
they labor in vain who build it;
Unless the Lord guards the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.

Life.Abundantly.

I am on a quest.

At the beginning of the fall semester, I came across the words, "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly."

For those of you who are unaware...this is John 10:10.
So, my quest is to figure out just what Jesus meant by "life, and have it more abundantly". I mean personally. For me. I am well accustomed to the first part of the verse, but at some point, I got tired of playing the martyr.

There are many things that have been taken from me. While I managed to hold on to a single strand of sanity throughout it all, I accepted the notion that I could end up living out the rest of my existence....empty-handed. And I thought that is what the Will of God was for me. What He was pleased with. I thought that is what He took notice of. What caught His attention. I used to picture myself as a small girl wearing a pretty yellow dress...with big brown eyes pleading for someone to tell me how pretty I looked. I took this mentality into my relationships...and even as I interacted with God, I figured that I must do something to win His approval. My poison? Suffering.

That's what "bearing your cross" is all about, right?
Wrong.


I've inquired of God these past few weeks about what does it really mean to have an abundant life. Does that include a fat bank account? Good health? A vast array of friends? A lucrative 401K plan?

Is it different for each person? How do we recognize it when we're living it? And how do we obtain it?

Well. This is what I've gotten so far:

"Living Life Inside-Out".

Change is accomplished and KEPT when it happens inside out. When we seek to change our surroundings or our environment, we should pray that the change begins inside of us. One of two things will happen:

1. We will literally change our environment for the better. And have grateful hearts.

or

2. We will see our environment change...but only because our perception of it has changed. We see it differently....and gain a grateful heart in the process.


It's an ancient concept, yet still remains true: your attitude is the only thing you can control. I am amazed at how the world around me morphs when I decide to change my attitude. I almost wished I'd thought of it first....


There is this song by Coldplay that astounds me...because it accurately states how I feel.


To my surprise, and my delight
I saw sunrise, I saw sunlight
I am nothing in the dark
And the clouds burst to show daylight

Ooh and the sun will shine
Yeah on this heart of mine
Ooh and I realize
Who cannot live without
Ooh come apart without
It

On a hill top, on a sky-rise
Like a first born child
On a full day, and a full flight
Defeat darkness, breaking daylight

Ooh and the sun will shine
Yeah on this heart of mine
Ooh and I realize
Who cannot live without
Ooh come apart without
Daylight

Hebrew.Israelites. & Black.Women.

I found this on a sister blogger's page, and this is the most upsetting thing I've seen since watching Amistad the first time. I will NOT put this video on my page directly because of the severe language, but I will post the link.

Be warned that this may make you extremely angry, so proceed with caution.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HaKNKztbueM

The Church of Oprah???

Comments are always welcome.

The Potential to do What I'm Incapable Of...

How awful it is so see people live below their potential. Potential doesn't suggest accomplishing something that I am capable of. I'm not capable of anything good or decent. History shows us that imperfect people left to their own devices, are only destined to destroy themselves. I'm not walking in capability.

Because: I'm supposed to be dead.

Or pregnant. Or strung out on drugs.

Or broken. Or defeated. Or discouraged.

Or done.

But, not so. Not even close.

I'm scaring myself, these days. God has allowed me to experience more clarity and profundity of thought than I have ever experienced. I've tapped into a supernatural source that carries the comfort of a mother's voice.

Peaceful, yet disruptive.

Bringing calm and terror at once.

Healing wounds but shattering mindsets.

And fear is losing ground in my heart. I feel my wings flex, bend, and slowly spread. Their span is alarming. Soft, assuring wind graze the height of my cheekbones. It's almost time.

I have no idea where I am headed. But, I do know that I've tread upon this earth long enough. Settling for the path of fearful people with no idea that there is more. The worn skin on the soles of my feet are evidence that there is another way. I've traveled to the four corners of this earth by these two limbs.

Now let's see if the sky truly has a limit....

I Just. Lost. Everything.

Job 1:20

“Job got to his feet, ripped his robe, shaved his head, then fell to the ground and worshipped.”


The act of Surrender is easy concerning the future. We will allow God, in all of His Sovereignty, to handle the “soon to be”. Yet we still look to have complete control over that which is the “here and now”. We silently force the hand of God away from what that same Hand has so mercifully given unto us. As if to say “Don’t worry God, I can handle this. I can take it from here.” But how deceived we are. We have no more strength inside to inhale our next breath, much less govern our lives, without the provision of God. We will thank Him for his blessings, yet won’t lay them at His feet in worship and adoration.

We start to need Him less and less. Gradually. Well-to-do Christians, but spoiled and self-indulgent.

We end up like Job. With the whole world at our beckon call, but with only a subtle amount of faith.

Somehow we’ve convinced ourselves that what we possess is secure. That we aren’t in danger of losing everything. God has our best interest at heart, but He is no good luck charm. He commands that we yearn for Him above all else. And there is no better way to understand Job’s dilemma than to endure something similar.

The Death of a Dream, perhaps.

God has given me dreams, ambitions, and talents, but even those, I must commit back to Him in service and worship. Release my firm, selfish grip off of those things; even if God says they are for me. I can even pray for the health or safety of loved ones, but even they should never come closer to my heart than God. Let them go, and desperately grab a hold to Him. Him only. If I am consistently in the presence of He who holds all things in His hands, then I am sure to never lack.

If God wills that I lose all I have. Up to my own life, even, then I will count it all gain for Christ. I used to think that this meant that I couldn’t truly care for anything else. Not so. My love and need for Him overflows into every area of my existence. I am a better daughter. A better student. A better friend. A better girlfriend.

All because God showed me that everything He has allotted to me is fragile. Able to be taken away at any moment. In many ways, all of my dreams have died. Just like Job’s. It hasn’t happened physically, but in my heart: I lost everything.

I wasn’t able to afford school, so I got kicked out.
I ended an important relationship.
My family fell a part at the seams.
My parents and I become financially destitute.
I lost my love for writing.

All of it: gone.

The certainty of some of these things hanged in the balance. The fear of their coming to be weighed heavy on my shoulders. So heavy, that my soul hurt as if I had really lost all that I hold precious.

I mean, I might as well have.


And in losing everything, I gained everything.

Instead of begrudging my Father, I did like Job did:

Job 1:20

“Job got to his feet, ripped his robe, shaved his head, then fell to the ground and worshipped.”

In an ongoing act of worship, I believed in the plan of God for my life. That if my greatest fears ends up being what He has for me: then He is STILL worthy of every ounce of praise that my weak, frail body can give Him. Yea, though He slay me; yet will I trust Him, the scripture says.

Then something miraculous happened. God gave it all back to me.

Not only all that I had lost, but a surplus. And the blessings are still coming.

But this time, instead of focusing my eyes on what God has given me, I bow my head in reverence, kneeling, and place those blessings at His feet.

After all, He’s all I ever really wanted….


Beloved, God holds the universe in His hands. Whatever you need, He's got for you.

But, this year, let's try something different. Let's ask, above all else, for one thing:

HIM.

period.

A Promise He Will Always Keep

"We who have run for our very lives to God have every reason to grab the promised hope with both hands and never let go. It's an unbreakable spiritual lifeline, reaching past all appearances right to the very presence of God where Jesus, running on ahead of us, has taken up his permanent post as high priest for us...."

--Hebrews 6:18-20 (The Message Translation)

The God Complex (And Things Surrounding)

It's funny how quickly people forget where they've come from. We, as a people, and as a humanity, did not create ourselves, but suddenly we live as though we have always been. Not only that, but we sadly live as though we have no eventual end.

We rule over others like we ourselves weren't once slaves.

I see my people with fat pockets, but still demanding a hand out, simply because they feel it is owed to them. Reparations are not the answer. Complaining is not the answer. Many have died for us to have a voice. When it's your time to speak up, what will you say?

We consume our natural resources as if it can be replenished by our own two hands.

The more we rape our women, the more women/men are born infertile.

The more we want total control over our own existence, children are born addicted to heroine, 3 year olds are shot by stray bullets, pastors are touching young boys, schools will see more casualties than war, and more and more faceless teenagers will lose hope.

The more we hate each other, the more carnage and violence will be the norm in our neighborhoods.

We expect violence to bring our homes peace. Not so. And we are so deceived. [NOTE: I support our troops. Period.] We expect the effects of over 400 years of slavery to be forgotten and undone in less than half the time. The sins of the father will visit generations to come...Just like I am dealing with my father's unseen hatred inside of me; my white brothers/sisters must face their father's sins also. We must share the responsibility as Americans.

We sing songs to this land, with its purple mountains majesty, forgetting the blood that was shed that helped make the hills as lush as they are. We boast in our present achievements, in our vast armies, and our glory days of war, never realizing we must pay for our injustice.

Our "divine" attitudes and shifty laws are making re-entrance into our lives.

We've forgotten our God, and cry out that He's forgotten us. We are forgetting Him. We are attempting to erase His presence from our schools, from our monetary values ("In God We Trust"), and even from our churches.

I believe the expression says something about chickens and roosting?

Getting Back Up...(Read and Be Encouraged)

Psalm 37: 24 says:

Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; for the Lord upholds him with His hand.

Proverbs 24:16 says:

For a righteous man may fall seven times and rise again, but the wicked shall fall by calamity.

God's mercy is not a license to sin, but a daily need in my life. I should no longer make vows to myself, nor to other people, what acts I am not capable of, because God has shown me that without His Holy Spirit, I am capable of no good. This fact is not a chain on my neck, but it liberates me from my shackles that most call "living a Christian life". Until I allow God to live holy through me, it will seem like a burden or a chore. But this self-righteousness that I have seen inside of me grieves the heart of God. I am basically saying to him that I am capable of choosing good over evil without His help or guidance.

But, I have fallen on my face, and my actions surprised even me. God allowed me to roam away from his guidance for a moment (still protecting me) to show me that without Him, I AM NOTHING.

I say that to all of you who profess to be believers. We are nothing without the grace and mercy of God, given to us through the blood of Jesus Christ.

But...

With Him...We are everything. We are powerful. No evil hinderance or temptation can touch us or make us flinch an eyelid. We have authority over every scheme, trap, and terror.

Thank you Lord for this lesson. I love you.

Saints of God, read and be encouraged. I love you as well.

Your sister in Christ,

Spoken.Word.

Ressurection Sunday

Today. Jesus overcame Death.Sin.

Everything that Wars over your Soul and
Everything that seeks to destroy your Potential.

He defeated it.

Not just by Dying.

But by doing what ordinary martyrs can't....

He rose.

So, Beloved....

Reflect and Remember.

Sincerely,

spokenword

Good Friday

Today, Jesus Christ became the ultimate sacrifice, the slain Lamb, for the sins of all mankind.

Can you see Him? There on the cross? He did it for You. Know, in this moment, you know a Love like no other. Because of our sins, we deserved that cross, but he took our place.

The Great Exchange took place today.

God bless,

spokenword


ps: to be continued...................... (oh no...its not over)