Tuesday, July 15, 2008

The Blur That I Call "College"...

August 2006-May 2007
Freshman/Sophomore Year

Summary:My first year at Liberty University was memorable. I had amazing roommates & got exposed to African culture for the very first time. Got decent grades & goofed off a lot on Facebook. I broke rules and did things that shock me to this day. I performed poetry in public for the first time & earned my stage name. I began and ended a relationship during this school year, and laid the foundation for my current relationship. Ended on the brightest note. All in all, I saw how tough life can be when you are determined to live it only for yourself.
Clubs:I was recruited mid-semester into Student Leadership as a Dormitory Prayer Leader on my hall.
Relationship Status:Dated a guy without being friends first, it ended after 6 months.
GPA:2.53
Favorite class:English 102
Lessons learned:
1.Know your boundaries.
2."When people show you who they are, believe them."
3.Experimentation isn't always fun.
4.Be brave. Speak up.
5.Appearances can lie.
6.Remembering where you come from does not require you to look back.
7.Your fears aren't made of stone...walk through them.
8.Work FIRST, play afterward.
9.Love is never soft or weak, but it is the strongest attribute a person can possess.
10.Forgive.
Pic to sum up the year:
Photobucket


August 2007-May 2008
Sophomore/Junior Year
Summary:Possibly the hardest/best year of my life to date. Everything that I thought was unbreakable inside of me was broken, and I didn't think it was capable to have so much love surrounding you. I fell in love with my best friend, stood by him during one of the hardest times of his life, and even became best friends with his best friend... I endured the death of a dream, & its resurrection. I grew poetically; writing almost everyday. I took active political/social roles on campus. My love life broke new ground, even through a long period of separation. I had a better year academically, also. In general, this year was quite the adventure.
Clubs: Center for M.E. (Multicultural Enrichment), The E.Q.U.A.L.I.T.Y Factor Movement, 2nd year as Prayer Leader and earned a spot as a Resident Assistant this upcoming year.
Relationship Status: Madly in love.
GPA:2.76
Favorite Class:Psychology 351(Multicultural Counseling & Research)
Lessons:
1.Smile more.
2.Take a chance on yourself.
3.God knows what He's doing...so trust Him.
4.Hold nothing back.
5.Love is as explainable as God.
6.Relax.
7.Know what you believe and why, and be ready to speak when someone calls on you for an answer.
8.Your true friends are there despite inconvenience.
9. Use a thesaurus.
10.Writing is NEVER for the author's benefit.
Pic to sum up the year:
Photobucket

August 2008-May 2009
Senior Year
Stay tuned....
Here's a pic of things to come:
Photobucket

Monday, July 14, 2008

The Mindless Menace of Violence by Senator Robert Kennedy

Read & comment...
...or you can listen here.
But please take in these words & see how they relate to you personally.
God bless.

**************************************************************************


City Club of Cleveland, Cleveland, Ohio April 5, 1968

Mr Chairmen,Ladies And Gentlemen

This is a time of shame and sorrow. It is not a day for politics. I have saved this one opportunity, my only event of today, to speak briefly to you about the mindless menace of violence in America which again stains our land and every one of our lives.

It is not the concern of any one race. The victims of the violence are black and white, rich and poor, young and old, famous and unknown. They are, most important of all, human beings whom other human beings loved and needed. No one - no matter where he lives or what he does - can be certain who will suffer from some senseless act of bloodshed. And yet it goes on and on and on in this country of ours.

Why? What has violence ever accomplished? What has it ever created? No martyr's cause has ever been stilled by an assassin's bullet.

No wrongs have ever been righted by riots and civil disorders. A sniper is only a coward, not a hero; and an uncontrolled, uncontrollable mob is only the voice of madness, not the voice of reason.

Whenever any American's life is taken by another American unnecessarily - whether it is done in the name of the law or in the defiance of the law, by one man or a gang, in cold blood or in passion, in an attack of violence or in response to violence - whenever we tear at the fabric of the life which another man has painfully and clumsily woven for himself and his children, the whole nation is degraded.

"Among free men," said Abraham Lincoln, "there can be no successful appeal from the ballot to the bullet; and those who take such appeal are sure to lost their cause and pay the costs."

Yet we seemingly tolerate a rising level of violence that ignores our common humanity and our claims to civilization alike. We calmly accept newspaper reports of civilian slaughter in far-off lands. We glorify killing on movie and television screens and call it entertainment. We make it easy for men of all shades of sanity to acquire whatever weapons and ammunition they desire.

Too often we honor swagger and bluster and wielders of force; too often we excuse those who are willing to build their own lives on the shattered dreams of others. Some Americans who preach non-violence abroad fail to practice it here at home. Some who accuse others of inciting riots have by their own conduct invited them.

Some look for scapegoats, others look for conspiracies, but this much is clear: violence breeds violence, repression brings retaliation, and only a cleansing of our whole society can remove this sickness from our soul.

For there is another kind of violence, slower but just as deadly destructive as the shot or the bomb in the night. This is the violence of institutions; indifference and inaction and slow decay. This is the violence that afflicts the poor, that poisons relations between men because their skin has different colors. This is the slow destruction of a child by hunger, and schools without books and homes without heat in the winter.

This is the breaking of a man's spirit by denying him the chance to stand as a father and as a man among other men. And this too afflicts us all.

I have not come here to propose a set of specific remedies nor is there a single set. For a broad and adequate outline we know what must be done. When you teach a man to hate and fear his brother, when you teach that he is a lesser man because of his color or his beliefs or the policies he pursues, when you teach that those who differ from you threaten your freedom or your job or your family, then you also learn to confront others not as fellow citizens but as enemies, to be met not with cooperation but with conquest; to be subjugated and mastered.

We learn, at the last, to look at our brothers as aliens, men with whom we share a city, but not a community; men bound to us in common dwelling, but not in common effort. We learn to share only a common fear, only a common desire to retreat from each other, only a common impulse to meet disagreement with force. For all this, there are no final answers.

Yet we know what we must do. It is to achieve true justice among our fellow citizens. The question is not what programs we should seek to enact. The question is whether we can find in our own midst and in our own hearts that leadership of humane purpose that will recognize the terrible truths of our existence.

We must admit the vanity of our false distinctions among men and learn to find our own advancement in the search for the advancement of others. We must admit in ourselves that our own children's future cannot be built on the misfortunes of others. We must recognize that this short life can neither be ennobled or enriched by hatred or revenge.

Our lives on this planet are too short and the work to be done too great to let this spirit flourish any longer in our land. Of course we cannot vanquish it with a program, nor with a resolution.

But we can perhaps remember, if only for a time, that those who live with us are our brothers, that they share with us the same short moment of life; that they seek, as do we, nothing but the chance to live out their lives in purpose and in happiness, winning what satisfaction and fulfillment they can.

Surely, this bond of common faith, this bond of common goal, can begin to teach us something. Surely, we can learn, at least, to look at those around us as fellow men, and surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once again.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

Amazing Grace: Just the Black Notes...

This brought tears to my eyes...feel free to comment.



My personal comments:
The words to this well known song speaks louder to me than ever before. The grace of God is for us all. Black and white. Victim and oppressor. Free and slave.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Allow Me To Reintroduce Myself...

Question:Where have you been?
Answer:Inner-city youth camp in Missouri

Question:How was it?
Answer:It was the hardest/best experience of my life, thank you.

Question:Did you learn anything? You know...about yourself, maybe?
Answer:I'm glad you asked that question...

I'm used to getting consistently poured into. And I am accustomed to getting drawn from. But never has it happened at the exact same time. Each second of the day, someone needed me, and I was always given something new. Mainly lessons. I feel like my heart has taken on some weird shape, and I'm getting reacquainted with it. Things surfaced from the inside of me that made me ashamed, and other things excited me. I believe I was placed in an environment where I could adequately begin to express a joy that was smothered. Disappointment & fear enabled me to keep silent, and when bad things happened (which they are promised to do), it was easy for me to lose more joy...considering I didn't have a firm grip on it in the first place.

I learned to exercise my own two emotional legs; learning to uplift my OWN spirit. Relying on my own huge, but personal Heavenly Father to heal my wounds. I didn't see how weak I'd made myself on behalf of others; mistaking dormancy for gentleness. Not so.

This isn't a mere self-help lesson, but a self-less lesson. So, before I end this blog, I will list another "6 Things" list. Enjoy reader, you've been missed...

6. I love my corny sense of humor.
I've come to notice that it works on most people... plus, it's too much work being "the funny one", because everyone will expect you to be funny. Specializing in silliness, I'm the one that everyone shakes their head at, saying, "Ha. Oh, Brittney...."

5. I love music.
And I don't say that lightly like most people would say it...I truly do. From the hi jinks of OutKast to the subtle soulfulness of Celine Dion, I love it all. Faith Hill to Miles Davis, just give me real music. I pledge loyalty to any artist or musician who places entertainment second. Anyone who wishes to be seen, make money, or gain publicity will get my nod, but not my props. There is soooo much good music out there, but I thank God for the posers. It's easier to tell who's real by acknowledging the fake. I am so serious. Music is therapy. From the professional Italian opera to novice high school musicals, I love music. Give me music.

4. I have an eye for fashion.
Sometimes, I honestly wish my wallet obeyed my fashion sense, but there are times when it's not necessary. It goes beyond matching (which I take every opportunity NOT to) and looking crisp and neat. I like to take risks with my style. I would call my style "mildly experimental".

3. I want to adopt as many kids as I naturally have.
Yep. If I have 3, I want to adopt 3. Sounds insane I know, but it would be amazing to keep 3 brothers/sisters together who need a home, without separating them? Triplets would be awesome.

2. I cry too easily.
I noticed this about myself. Things that would make people melancholy almost break my heart to pieces. Earlier I was watching this movie where a guy died tragically. Only a couple of scenes earlier, he was cold to his wife and contemplating cheating on her, and I was ticked at him. "Who is this guy?" I was thinking. The moment he died, I was in tears!

...sad, I know. But don't laugh at me, I'm sensitive, remember?

1. If I didn't know any better...I would swear that I have multiple personalities.
Seriously. I understand that people have moods, but my dominant moods all have names, and they are all strong in their own way. When I am sad, I am really sad. When I am silly, I am especially silly. When I am righteously enraged, watch out. When I am affectionate....well....

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

6.Things.

...that you may or may not know about me...

6. I love to laugh.
I wish I did it more often. Any type of humor is okay with me...even the style that is controversial. Humor is only inappropriate within the context of its environment. (ie: You don't make racist jokes at an NAACP council meeting.) As for my own sense of humor, I suck. I'm corny. I cause more awkward silences/pauses more than I make people laugh. But yet, I try. Because I struggle with taking things, most of all myself, too seriously...

5. Tradition annoys me.
I believe that tradition is good for foundation's sake, but only that. If we never seek to build on that foundation, then we will depreciate the value of what is being built. I will esteem the ancient, but I will also strive to move forward; embracing change.

4. I am insightful.
I say this not in boast, because this is a blessing and a curse. Growing up, I knew all about my parents problems, because I felt stress in my home. I can tell when somethings wrong with people I barely know. Sometimes, I sense dishonesty and "evil". I have "bad feelings" that have usually been correct. At times I listen to this insight, and there are times when I ignore them. But I know that is why I'm more cautious than most.

3. I want lots of children.
I love kids on a level that's scary. Every time I see a child under 10, I go "Awww" to myself, and I feel a flutter inside my chest. It feels like love, almost. And that's weird because I don't have any kids of my own yet. It isn't that I think babies are adorable or innocent, but it's because of what they represent in the world. There are many things that are trying to kill the potential of our children, and no one seems to sense the unspoken urgency that I do. Plus, one of the highest privileges a woman can have is to be a mother (in my opinion).

2. I think...literally...all day.
I heard from a teacher that human beings use only 25-30% of their total brain mass. I think I use up to 45%. Ha. And not necessarily on intellect...but on my thoughts. I caught myself earlier thinking about 3 different things at once, and when I forced myself to think about nothing, it actually led to me thinking about different conversations I'd had with people about thinking too much. And so on, and so on....hahah. So yeah, I think too much. ::shrugs::

1. Love is my highest & deepest desire.
In every form and fashion. I want to experience it in all the ways it was created to be. I want to feel love for a pet. I want to love a child that is my own. I want to love a stranger. I want to love my spouse. I want to love a friend. I want to love my parents. I want to love God. This is one of the reasons why I cling to the Creator of my beliefs so tightly...because I've tried to love without Him, and I failed. I tried other ways, and I failed. The only way that I can totally experience and give love is to know its Source. Including His Son: Jesus Christ (because He exemplified Love in it's essence). So you see, this isn't just a religion to me, it's a relationship. It's my survival that's at stake.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

Friday, April 18, 2008

Build.An.Alter.

I went and ate lunch alone today...it was nice.
...and I started thinking.
When people in the Old Testament (of the Bible, I mean) were met with
certain provisions, or something life-changing happened to them, or God
revealed something new, they did one main thing:

They built an alter.

When God changed Jacob's name to Israel, he built a memorial on that very spot.
Serving as a physical memory. A reminder of what took place.

2008 so far has been a literal dramatic crescendo of events. I mean, one thing after the other. One challenge after another. And I've been presented with an expectant future. Lots to look forward to. And plenty to worry about.
...but I won't.
I'll simply grab a hammer & a handful of nails, along with a couple of pieces of wood...
and construct my own humble monument.

...maybe I'll call it "Jireh".

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

The.Reason.

...it was one of those days.

At times, I can have conversations about him with my mom, where we laugh about the person he was. We remember how perfect his smile was, or how he could walk in the pouring rain and would never get a single drop on his suede Timberland boots. I remember how his shoulders shook when he laughed. Most days, I can think of him, and not feel a stab in my chest. This painful realization that he has physically missed so much of my life.
...but today...was one of those days.

Granted, I have been able to walk around with some joy today. But I just wish I could talk to him. I wish he could stand in front of me and trip about how tall I've gotten, or smile at the young woman I am becoming. I want him to tell me that no guy would ever be good enough for me. I want him to slip me $20. I want him to hug me on my wedding day and play with my children. I want my kids to be able to say that "Uncle Mike" is their absolute favorite uncle. I will never have that.

And sometimes, even after 9 years, I still feel his void. I am complete in Christ, yes, but if you could look around my heart, you would see an empty chair with his name on it.

And I know that God's plan is perfect. I know that my brother is in a better place. I know that I will see him again someday. But days like this still happen. And I battle jealousy and anger each time I hear my roommate get so easily annoyed at her older brother for calling...just to chat with her. What a huge blessing in such a small gesture.

But the silver lining appears to me around this time of the day. First off, I can hear pride & joy, not grief, when my mother speaks of him. Each time my family gathers together, we talk about him as if he is only away at college. Not to mention, each time I see my nephew, I see a promise that my brother made.

Secondly, my brother, Michael, is, what I like to call...The.Reason...

(2005)

Your smile

Was

My melody

My lyric

My expression

But the day

You ceased

Smiling

I lost my song…

Full of

Emotions

Words

Jargons

With no one around

But my notebook

And his companion…

My pencil

So…

We three became

Acquainted

And soon

Started a love affair

A threesome

In which I

Consistently mourn your absence

Yet rejoice in your eternal rest

If you

Left no

Unspoken void in me

I would have

Ignored

them

Thank You.

We miss you. I miss you.
Love,
Your little sis Britt

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

The Church of Oprah???

Comments are always welcome.






I Am Woman...See.Me.Soar.

Simple and enigmatic.
Bold and strong.
Fierce and fragile.
Well acquainted with oppression, tragedy, and prejudice.
A forerunner even while behind the front lines.
Initial safe-haven for an unborn child.
Her son's first peer into love. Her daughter's steadfast tutor.
Her man's delicate sanctuary. Strong as iron, soft as silk.
Sophisticated and Kind.
Powerful and Just.
Her role stretches across the span of oceans:
From Teacher. Author. Activist.
To Nurturer. Lover. Provider.
Tributes through planes that sky-write to tattoos on arms.
"Hey mom's" mouthed into cameras to Ms. Angelou's "phenomenally".
Shakespeare sonnets to Tiffany diamonds.
Angela Davis to Angela Bassett.
Negative, scantly clothed images cast no shadow across the shine her subtle crown gives.
Temperamental moods in 5 to 7 day seasons are a necessary sacrifice in order to birth a world.
50 years of back-breaking manual labor condensed into 36plus hours of labor.
But you can keep your gold watch because retirement is not an option.
Her 9 to 5 comes in 24 hour shifts, just different name tags.
And since the auction block she worked alone.
Nursing her own infirmities meanwhile praying that she will
birth a healthy baby girl...





Tuesday, April 1, 2008

National Poetry Month

In honor of all the poets:

HipRockSoul

2-19-2008


Jagged

Scratches across vinyl

Speak to natives like hieroglyphics

Retelling a history and preserving an inheritance

From one generation to the next

Equipping young hands:

Microphones

With black paint

Chipping away in spots where they

Were once

Gripped.

Clutched and driven.

Personifying rage and amplifying truth.

[This proves Hip Hop has Soul.]

Picks

Strumming lightly

Onto strings.

Clearing its throat.

Sending vibrations through low rumbles or high cries.

Preparation to rally with the oppressed

And empathize with the tortured.

A sea of hands wave left to right in agreement.

Sharp

Like sandpaper

And boomin' like thunder.

Drum sets prey on emotion

At its rawest.

Sticks strike. Setting off explosions.

Land mines of sound.

A power given and a presence commanded.

[Feels like Rock really can be Hip.]

Scatted

Consonants trip ears with their theatrical tactics

Hummed vowels pressed out of pursed lips

Carry listeners through highs and lows.

Revealing melodic epiphanies

And healing societal schisms with

Love.

Sober-eyed "preachers".

Ministers of the earth-toned cloth

Stand with feet planted

Fluent in sign language

Whether it be two fingers; side by side

Or an enclosed fist raised proudly

[See? Soul can Rock it, after all.]

Giving you:

Hip-Rock-Soul.

Thursday, March 27, 2008

All That I Desire: Words

I remember my mother telling me about the day I came home from my first day of school. She says that I was so proud that day.

"Mommy?" I asked her, "What do you call it when a caterpillar turns into a budd-erfly (butterfly, in adult language....c'mon, I was only 5.)?"

"What, my baby?" she replied.

With my semi-toothless grin, I declared, "Me-ta-mor-fuh-siss!!" (Metamorphosis)

That memory stays with me. I think when I came home from the first day of 1st grade, I had begun my love affair with words. Fascinated with the way each syllable bounced off my tongue and the sounds they made. Each word had a vibe of its own. Each enunciation unique. I used to love Handwriting class, too. I remember taking my huge, thin letter writing practice notebook home and going ahead of what my teacher assigned for homework. When we were learning how to write our "Gs", I was busy mastering my "Ns".

I had the WORST handwriting up until middle school, but that never kept me from my love of words. I wasn't outspoken or loud as a child, but that didn't stop me.

My interest with words increases steadily. I am well acquainted with libraries, bookstores, etc. I think I was the only kid in my whole elementary school that mastered the Dewey Decimal System. Card catalogs were a breeze to me. #1 on my Christmas list for years was Where the Wild Things Are or the newest Youth fiction novel. My mother knew that the best way to punish me for misbehaving was to remove all of my books out of my room. Simply sending me there only provided me refuge.

The floor of Barnes & Nobles is paved with gold; a place where I could honestly [and I sometimes secretly] break out into song.

In middle school I got near perfect scores on the verbal portion of the PSATs. I made straight A's in English. I even read the dictionary for fun!!!

This desire has also become a handicap of mine. I suffer from complexity issues a lot of the time. Every moment of my life requires a caption. Each occurrence a detailed explanation. Nothing can ever just be in my life. I must put it into words; in order to provide it with meaning.

But sometimes the silence that comes in a moment of awe is sufficient.

I am learning to welcome the ambiguity of life. To appreciate mystery and to see the beauty in simplicity.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

What It's Like to Date. Him.

I thought this would be fun. You could call this a mirrored version of my "What It's Like to Date Me." blog.

Who is this guy I'm talking about? [Ladies, brace yourself. Fellahs, feel free to envy.] Now, if my heart could show you a photo of my love, it'd be a mix of three pictures...

First, the man with whom I was initially acquainted to: The Poet.
The creator of the sonnet, the haiku, and the prose. The man whose wit runs deeper than any other person that I've ever met. A daily pursuit of mine is to find new avenues that he'll divulge more of his mind.
He. Fascinates. Me.
Simply because I didn't realize that a guy such as he actually existed. I'd hoped...but I wasn't sure...and I am so thrilled to have a reliable open door into his thoughts. And he shares willingly with me. I see no end to his brainpower. No lid up top other than his skull. Beyond that, the sky is really the limit. He challenges me to think, examine, reflect, imagine, and dream. I am never bored by our conversation. Even in those calm moments where we say nothing, he always manages to speak to me.

"Poetry Book (Part One)"
2007

i run my hands across your poetry book.

feeling its texture

as you once did

my hands are where your hands

were

so...it's like you are touching ME.

i thumb through the pages in your poetry book.

one by one.

imagining that each new page is

as promising to me as they were to you

once

and you hold nothing back

so...it's like you're filling my empty spaces

i trace my fingers across the words written on the pages in your poetry book

left to right

block stanzas

to jagged lines

one after the other

as if my hand is holding

the pen that you held

to write these words

so...it's like you are holding me

...lay me. across your lap.

touch me. search me.

fill. complete me.

and hold me...

...like I am your poetry book.






Second, there is the one that consistently surprises me:
The Lover.
Weak knees & numb hands are just the beginning. He is unconsciously adorable and unintentionally sexy. While some ladies would turn their nose up at his wide smile, strong arms, and intuitive eyes; I could not be more lured. He tries his best as a boyfriend, but I am shocked that he cannot see how naturally the Lover inside of him flows. Now, I am not even meaning in a sexual manner, technically. Truth be told, that's a fruit we haven't yet tasted of...and yet...my experiences loving him and being loved by him tells me that he is the best lover I have ever had.

"A Hangover's Daydream'
2007

I see silhouettes of lovers holding hands, exchanging gazes, and

Merging hearts.
At this flaunt of emerging and bursting love,

I smile and I concur.

Sneaky public displays and quaint duos tangled in fondness

Only generate memories that hint at my own affair.

Warmth is meticulously duplicated inside of me

[Taken from the eyes of those who have made the same discovery

As I]

And is spread from end to end.

My wit became congested

Morphing the very spot where I stood.

Distorted and blinking I look around

Thinking I sensed his scent and

Felt the brush of his fingertips next to my cheek.

Taken aback I staggered

Drunk from affection

Inebriated due to the reminiscence of my love's presence

Lacking all sobriety

I collect each piece of my recollections of him and

Stumble my way towards the place he resides

To make our dream reality.



Lastly, the part that has come to be the foundation of our relationship: The Jedi.
My partner in rhymes. The Hip to my Hop. The Emcee to my Poet. My colleague in the Art. I'm his co-pastor & he's my constant collaborator. Our passion for love.life.lord is a source of joy and challenge. He holds me accountable and keeps me honest. Without knowing it: he teaches me lessons...above all: to remain true. Perfect? He is not, but the brokenness I see combined with the pursuit I witness inside of him, instruct me to keep going. When cultivating my own potential, I see a reflection of his. A living, breathing revolutionary. And he's my best friend.

"He.Be.Revolution."
2007

I've touched the hands

of a revolutionary.

a man.

and a catalyst

for change.

I've kissed the lips

of a revolutionary.

a force.

a potential name

for legacies.

Not one amongst

the legions of those

bound by the streets

and chained to a mindset

he pumps his fist

yes

but he's holding

a pen.

a mic.

He's the epitome

of Black Pride.

Malcolm's Pride.

Martin's Pride.

Mother's Pride.

Nonviolent ferocity.

Knowledgeable Grandeur.

Confusing the masses

Because he maneuvers just fine without

The gun on his hip

And the chip on his shoulder.

Never whining.

Pointing no fingers

and expecting no hand-outs.

He moves.

He molds.

He is.

With feet firm.

His convictions are deeply rooted.

Eyes focused.

His sights see beyond the Struggle.

His age inconsistent

of his wisdom

But oh. How his father

would be so proud. if only

his eyes were just as clear.

He doesn't just know of revolution

or hope for revolution

or front with the cap wearin' and slogan shoutin' revolution

But

He thinks revolution

Sees revolution

Speaks revolution

and

IS revolution

I'm loved by the spirit of

a revolutionary.

A heart

too good for this world.


All That I Desire: Truth

Truth (n.) - the actual state of a matter; ideal or fundamental reality apart from and transcending perceived experience.

My mom says that I, as a little girl, used to ask the "Why?" question a lot. I believe this tendency was grafted into the core of my personality, because I feel that "everything happens for a reason". And for as long as I can remember, my first inclination/reaction when faced with a circumstance [good or bad] was to ask "Why?"

If you look at the above definition, it's two-fold.

First: the actual state of the matter.

Does anyone, other than me, notice that our society thrives on deception?

We are either taught to lie or buy into lies.

Advertisement paints elaborate (though at times hilarious) fantasies, promising the consumer a desired end, if only they would buy the product. Music is whoring itself to this Almighty Propaganda, relying on a formula in order to be successful. Meanwhile, the truth about music is confined to a solitary, aged category: Socially-conscious.

The religion of Hollywood consists of public persona; so individuals don't look up to their character, but to the 'characters' that they reenact on screen. Ask any actor why they love acting, and some will say that they love being able to become someone else. There is thrill in deceiving, so to speak. I'm not being overtly-cryptic, but I cannot help but notice a trend.

Identity is dependent on what is the most glamorous at the moment. We teach our children that they can be anything they want to be, which is true to an extent, but we don't combine that theory with positive avenues. These positive outlets (ie: The Arts) are meant to help them DISCOVER who they were created to be, because no one (in my opinion) is born without an innate purpose. Negative activities repress or pervert that purpose. It is my firm belief that evil is the counterfeit of good. It is a distorted image of what is true. Deception is an altered version of the Truth. Locating the lie is the first step to discovering Truth. So, discern the lie.

Second: ideal or fundamental reality apart from and transcending perceived experience.

Your eyes can lie to you. Your senses can lie to you. If our 5 senses were adequate enough to come across truth, then the Creator wouldn't have given us Intellect & Emotions. It's funny that each of these three aspects cannot function separately.

I mean, let's look at that for a minute...

A person who is nothing but a brain, that is, possessing no heart or way to gather information from the environment is incomplete. Sensation is needed to alert the brain. Emotions are needed to reinforce a certain behavior.

A hot stove. A naive child. Child touches the stove. The Senses feel the heat - sending a signal to the brain to remove the hand - afterwards the child expresses Fear/Caution each time he/she gets too close to a hot stove. They all work together.

God is cool, isn't He?

Getting back to the point:
We should always question our surroundings and never should we even begin to accept anything that hasn't been confirmed by all three parts. Now, as a believer I know that there is 4th piece: The Spirit. And the spirit is a profound thing. It can disprove anything that the three previous portions can emphatically prove. It can also CONFIRM what is found, naturally.

So now, as I mature, I allow the Natural and the Super-natural to work together; in order to help me find Truth. This Truth, however, originated in the Super-natural....

...because I refuse to believe that the source of Truth came from a world that decays daily. Someday, whether it be tomorrow or 1000s of years from now, this reality as we know it will be gone. So what will happen to Truth? If our current reality is all there is, then there is no such thing as hope, only probability. No such thing as desire, only animalistic urges. No such thing as love, only temporary attachments.

No such thing as Truth, only relative opinion.


Wednesday, March 5, 2008

All That I Desire...(Prelude)

I have many passions, but they all center around two specific things:

Truth. And Words.
To be continued....

Friday, February 29, 2008

Something I Tend to Forget...

I was really upset at my mother. Or at her ability to ruin my excitement for things. I didn't want to think anything through for once. I didn't want to plan ahead or iron out any details.

I just wanted to go.

And I felt completely justified in my discontent with my relationship with my parents...

...that is until 2:08 am this morning. A close friend of mine, whom I also consider to be like a little sister, gently shook me awake. She told me, holding back tears, that a girl on our hall (whom we both know very well) had just lost her mother in a tragic car accident just an hour or so before. A bit shocked and disoriented, I followed my friend through my dark dorm room and out into the hallway, where at least a dozen of my other dorm-mates were standing; praying.

For what seemed like hours, we all stood...or sat...out in the hallway, grieving along with her. My RAs were on the phone with her family members, making arrangements and spoke on behalf of my grieving sister, who could do nothing but lay in the floor and cry. It was announced, eventually, that an RA, accompanied by another girl on the hall, would take her home (which was over an hour away). Looking up as she walked out into the hallway, I met her eyes. And that moment changed my whole perspective that I had been previously, if only temporarily, carrying.
I know what it's like to lose someone so abruptly. After the death of my older brother back in 1999, I promised myself that I wouldn't take my family for granted. I wouldn't sacrifice the love of my family to serve my own purpose. Somehow, for a split second, I had forgotten the promise I had made.

I am so blessed. My parents, more specifically my mother, love me very much.

So, I say to you: take no one dear to you for granted. Because you have no idea if they will be here long enough for you to apologize.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Potential to Do What I Am Incapable Of...(Part Three)

Presently, I am extra sensitive to my surroundings. Now, more than ever, I am seeking the purpose and promise behind everything that happens. Why? Because things around me are growing and evolving. So naturally, I look to the sky asking God...

"Okay...what are you up to? What does this all mean?"

Opportunities that my heart has sought after are actually going to happen. It's one thing to want something. To pray for something. To fantasize about being in a certain place...but now that these dreams are now tangible and real...I'm nowhere close to being prepared. So, my initial thoughts are:


"Lord. I need you."

The past 2 months aren't a coincidence, but ordained for some purpose.

1 Corinthians 2:9

But as it is written: “ Eye has not seen, nor ear heard
Nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him."

Emphasis on "things [which God has prepared].

1. Healing

I should be dead. The tumor should have grown cancerous and the surgery unsuccessful. But, God had bigger plans for my life. Through a miracle, the MRI came back clear, and gradually, my body is healing itself. My hormone levels are normal and I will be able to have children one day. At the same time I was waiting on my test results, a little girl that my step-dad's job was raising money for, died from a brain tumor that had plagued her body for many years. Why God chose to take her life and spare mine isn't for me to understand...regardless...I owe Him my life, because He saved it.


2. Love
He is everything God knew I would need in a best friend. I see a reflection of God's heart for my life each time he looks at me: without one ounce of pretense, dishonesty, and condition. I've never been in a relationship where we try to outdo one another in love. Never have I felt such a freedom in God's timing [for my love life especially]. Paul says in Philippians 4:12, "I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want."I have known what it is like to suffer in a relationship. To give so much of yourself and getting nothing back. I thank God for those times. Heartache has been my greatest teacher. Not in technique, necessarily, but in having a teachable spirit.
God knows, I have no idea how to love this man.
But I am open to learn. Everyday. For the rest of my days.


3. Leadership=Servanthood

I received the email yesterday announcing that I've been chosen to serve as an Resident Assistant next school year. After getting many congratulations from my peers throughout the day yesterday, an older woman who is in graduate school asked me was I excited. I said, "Uh. It hasn't even hit me yet!!" She laughed and said "Well, it'll hit you tomorrow at the Contract Signing when you sign your life away!" I laughed along with her, but thinking about it later, I realized that my answer to her statement should have been:
"Well, my life is Christ's anyway. So, it shouldn't be too big of an adjustment."

4. Finances
I'm still a broke college student. But if it weren't for the intervention of God, then I would just be broke [minus the college student part]. My financial situation almost prevented me from being able to start my Junior Year in January. But God, again, stepped in and proved that He has the last word in everything. There is truly nothing too hard for Him. Or expensive.
No way $6,148 could break His bank account.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

Psalm 62

This song will not leave my head....


"I Love You Lord" by Whitney Houston

I love the the Lord, he heard my cry

And pitied every groan, long as I, I live
And troubles rise, I hasten to his throne

[Chorus:]
Oh, I love the Lord

I sure do, surely do love the Lord
He heard, he heard my cry
And pitied every groan, yes he did
Every groan
Long as I live, long as I, I live
And troubles rise, troubles rise
I hasten to to to to to
I'll hasten, I'll hasten to his throne
I'll hasten to his throne hold on hold on
Tears are streaming down my eyes
I'll hasten, I'll hasten to his throne

Yes I will, I'll run
I know I can go to his throne
I know I can go, I know I can go
I'll hasten, I'm gonna run
I know I can go, I know I can go
I'll hasten, I'll hasten to his throne

See I can run, Lord you know I will
When there is nowhere to go I know I can go to you
I know I can run to you oh
I'll hasten, I'll hasten to his, his throne
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I'll hasten, hasten to his throne
Surely gonna be here

There is no one else who is faithful like my Savior. Not even the love of my life can comfort me on a level that He can. I'm reminded of one of my favorite Psalms:


Psalm 62:5-9

5-6 God, the one and only—

I'll wait as long as he says.
Everything I hope for comes from him,
so why not?
He's solid rock under my feet,
breathing room for my soul,
An impregnable castle:
I'm set for life.

7-8 My help and glory are in God
—granite-strength and safe-harbor-God—
So trust him absolutely, people;
lay your lives on the line for him.
God is a safe place to be.

9 Man as such is smoke,
woman as such, a mirage.
Put them together, they're nothing;
two times nothing is nothing.


I can always rely on Him. In the dead of night, when pain and terror is at it's peak, He is there.When I am at my best, He is there, reminding me that it was only by His strength that I am still alive.Without Him, I am nothing.But in His arms, I need nothing else.

Potential to Do What I Am Incapable of... (Interlude)

While walking from my afternoon class, I allowed my mind to wander. Immediately it drifted to the important decision that is being made concerning my future as an Residential Assistant [which is, if you don't know, a person who oversees the physical, social, and academic well-being of the students on a single floor in a dormitory]. After making it through three weeks of interviewing, tests, and various exercises, I have nothing left to do but wait.

And waiting is something that I've been girded for. I'm currently waiting on many things...Instead of examining the possibilities of each outcome, I chose to embrace an attitude. A pursuit. A goal that is not dependent upon a panel of people selecting or rejecting me for this important position. It will not rely on titles. And it is the only card that I have to play.
I decided that I want to affect. Influence. Disturb. Disrupt. Move. Shape. Change.I want to be a catalyst.
No matter what campus designation or leadership entitlement I have. Even if I have none at all. I will NOT allow that to gauge my drive to conjure revolution.

Recalling the bars of Manchild:

"I'd rather be washed up than watered down."

Mhmm. Exactly.
Now this isn't an attempt to psych myself out so that I won't be disappointed......just simply a declaration. From a small-town country girl who loves poetry and Hip-Hop.

Tomorrow's Doomsday. To Be Continued...

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Missing Love (Part Three...In Random Alphabetic Thought Form)

[What can I say?...He. is my favorite topic.]

a. The fact that he teaches me lessons daily is nothing short of ironic...

b. I never thought a love between two people could feel this way. And it's surprising how he manages to renew my incredulity. I can't believe all of this is happening to me. And in me. And above me.

c. Just when I think I've become well acquainted with his love, or love in general, I am shown another side of it. There is always more to learn. A deeper level to cultivate. A higher height to reach. And this love shows no signs of stopping.

d. I remember being in past relationships hearing a certain love song that reminded me of my significant other. But now, the melody I hear carries a unique tune. We are creating our own music.

e. I've never been so patient concerning the future before. In times past, I've prayed for God to speed time up, so that I may get to a certain level in a relationship that could match my emotional commitment. Now? I pray God slows time almost to a stand still...so that I can love him at a snail's pace. (smile)

f. Where has all of my trust issues gone?

g. God has an odd sense of humor concerning romance, but He's shown me that the things He has in store for us supersedes anything we can conjure up ourselves. All we have to do is hand Him the pen...

h. I am annoyed sometimes that he takes such pleasure in doing thoughtful things for others. I didn't think a man my age like that even existed.

i. "How blessed am I to have fallen in love with my best friend?"

j. He is brilliant. I love to pick his brain, lean forward, and listen...it frustrates me that he struggles to comprehend math. (smile)

k. He doesn't know this...but the respect and honor he gives his parents convicts me concerning the relationship I have with my own.

l. Another thing he doesn't know: God is going to touch a whole generation through his words, hands, and heart.

m. I hope he never loses his "pudge"...honestly. Imperfections keep us humble, and his humility is what I love most about him.

n. It's cute that he doesn't know how attractive he is. Inside and out. And honestly, they run about even in amount...I mean, he is a sexy guy.

o. If I had to pick one thing about him that I love most, it'd be his Kind Heart. I thank his parents for that.

p. If I had my way, we'd be married by the end of 2010. We'd be broke, probably homeless (pushing our first book on the street corners), but deliriously happy.

r. The moment I KNEW that I loved him: I showed him my brand new Lauryn Hill mixtape, and he reacted the EXACT way that I did when I first saw it. Meanwhile, my current boyfriend stood looking confused.

s. The 1st week of Christmas Break was the best week of my life. He has no idea...

t. I appreciate the stints of time we spend a part.

u. I haven't written this much in my whole entire life. What does that mean?????

v. The question of Summer '07? What do you want, and how do you want it?

w. I admit it, when he called D**n* by my name on the phone, I was thrilled. Truth be told, she's not one of my favorite people. He knows why...

x. My Ultimate Present for Him: to get him onto that Def Poetry Jam stage...

y. I think we should try that LU Scavenger Hunt 1st date again, but this time: He's setting it up. (smile)

z. I still think he's the Emcee.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Missing Love Part 2 (The Letter Version)

Dearest Heart,

I know that I am a difficult person. I can change the atmosphere in a room based on my attitude. I think God has blessed me with the ability to mobilize others. On the other hand, I can also paralyze them. But the last couple of hours have been similar to the "couple of hours" that I face periodically. It's not all the time, mind you...but it happens the moment I grow weary of certain faces. Certain people drain me.

It's not anything personal against them, it's just they aren't...you.

I'm overloaded by mediocre friendships and cordial acquaintances. I can't get back to the normalities with old friends, and those who I'm spiritually close to, don't have the same passions as I. I am so very thankful for all of these people. Never would I take them for granted...

But the more people I meet and hang with, the larger your vacancy becomes.


I miss you, friend.

And it's not that I'm incomplete, or that I have this gapping void in my chest. God is my completion, naturally.

And yet...

I look around, and there is no other source to complement me. No one that understands my moods and mannerisms. Cues into my facial expressions and silences. No one else here truly listens...

They all sit back and wonder why, at times, I'm not my usual talkative, bright-eyed self. And they dare not ask why. They turn concern inward and ignore my existence. Only you reach out without saying a word. Without making me feel guilty for being ME.

A shoulder for the counselor.

...that's just one of the things you are for me.

And not only that...I miss our adventures. Daily, subtle adventures that revealed something new about ourselves.
I'm sick of maintaining.
Sick of uplifting politeness above honesty.
...and I'm through with lackluster.

Yes, I know everything is NOT so serious and zealous...but you know that about me. You embrace that, instead of tolerating my enthusiasm.

I miss you, Jedi.

And I can't remember EXACTLY what it felt like to be held [by you]. It's been months. I've actually learned to live without it. And that thought scares me...because I don't want to. I don't want to learn. But, for the sake of my sanity, I try to "stay warm".

I have to...Lord knows.

I feel a pang of jealousy to know that your pillows are held by you more than I. And I kick myself for not holding you a second longer before you left to get on that plane.

I miss you, lover.

And I'll be fine.

....but we both know that there isn't but so many pens and pieces of paper in this place.

Love always,

Obi.Wan.

Prelude to "We Need A Love Song..." (Our Book)

Imagine for a moment:

A girl, slightly calloused by heartaches. Groomed by one disappointment too many, on the brink of settling for any guy with soft eyes and a decent vocabulary. She'd lost faith in "the love story" and the grandeur that came with it. Those things no longer existed in her mind. God apparently was disinterested with fairy tale endings...and her heart had went out on a limb for the last time...

and

A guy, equally unsympathetic towards "the happy ending", yet still possessed a deep-seeded longing for "more". His love life was permeated by possibilities. Teased in his previous friendships, he contemplated aborting the search completely; seeking to live an hedonistic lifestyle for a while. Unknowingly to him, however, God had a plan that involved four young women, three of which he knew of:

1. the first love
2. the fickle love
and
3. the maybe love

The fourth however, was not on his list. She was not in his plan. Neither was he in hers.

And God kept their eyes blind...

Allowing both the guy and the girl to continue to muse over their hidden desires and mourn over concealed wounds.

...meanwhile turning to a fresh, clean page. And He, the Author, began to scribe the climax of their love story...a love story that, at one time, existed as two...

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

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....

Sunday, January 20, 2008

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.

Friday, January 11, 2008

D.N.A. (Definition of Natural Affection)

I love you.

...and with each sunrise I anxiously await to see how many sizes more my heart can grow.
...and with each sunset, I kiss the face of God; thanking Him for the pain that led me to you.

The question of if, in fact, you are my forever is irrelevant. If your stumbling, but heart-felt attempts are like the greatest love song, then I cannot begin to imagine what my Dear Heart's melody sounds like.

Together, I feel as though I am taking part in something spectacular. So, naturally...living a whole, separate, and individualistic existence will only shy in comparison to the light that WE bring.

Us.

Testimony that beauty lies within an embrace. Intimacy is hidden inside a smile. And ecstasy is found between the tight crevices of intertwined fingers.

[Making a relationship into an idol cheapens the purpose it was given. ]

Representation. Pointing towards a bigger picture. Something that is too transcendent to notice with human eyes.

Decipher the code in

The stretch of the mouth and

The flush of the cheek.

Define the flicker

Light brings to the eye.

Explain why palpitations

Increase with touch.

Accomplish all

Of these things:

And you will

Clearly

Know

Love.



Look. See me. Notice our interaction. In the simplest and calmest of body language, but set out to slowly decipher the love language of God. A part of His Gift to us.

Hold me love. Look closely. Can you see His fingerprints?