Mirror Mirror On The Wall

God has this miraculous way of putting things right in front of you so that you come smack dab, face to face, unstoppable confrontation with the real you.  Please let me be the first to say that I am not the judge or jury of any person on this planet.  I certainly have my own flaws, notice the 's' on the end indicating plural, multiple, etc..  I have not the power to condemn someone to hell or condone them into heaven.

With all that being said... How can we expect the world to serve God if we look like, conduct ourselves and blend in so harmoniously with the world?  If you talking like they talk, walking like they walk and doing what they do - what is the difference?  I know God is a God of grace and mercy.  Trust me, if he wasn't, I would have been dead many times over.

If you "turnt up" and doing it among them, with them, how are they supposed to see Jesus in that behavior?  If you cussing, smoking weed, drinking, and flat out kicking all week long - you one of the homies.  Just because you get cleaned up on Sunday to go and lift up "holy" hands - using the term loosely here, where is your witness?  Is your witness effective to the people you dwell among?  How do they view you?  What does your lifestyle say about God?  Is your worship really real?

You know what they say...You can fool some of the people some of the time.  But the truth is, you can't fool God none of the time.

Bringing me back to me, immediately after my marriage fell apart a few months ago, I was the same person I describe above.  And now, having come face to face with what that looks like, I see how I impacted my witness.  Some people want to see the church act like them because it justifies what they do and how they feel and why they refuse to accept Jesus.

We do ourselves and more importantly Jesus Christ a disservice when we don't live according to they way of holiness.  Like I said, I ain't perfect and probably ain't gon' be in this lifetime.  But please Lord, don't ever let me get some complacent and comfortable in wrongdoing that it no longer seems like I'm doing wrong to me.

I want my life and my lifestyle to glorify you.  Help me, help those of us who profess to love you and serve you, to live a life that is pleasing in your sight.  And if I haven't, Oh Lord, I must apologize.

The Love Lesson

This is a really a difficult and pressing time in my life... I am in the middle of a less than friendly divorce. And I have found myself shrinking back from life in general. The usual suspects, as far as historical precedence on how I deal with difficulties, has been one of three things - 1) prayer, 2) sleep and 3) excessive amounts of alcohol. Today, I find myself in a place that feels like I'm all prayed out. You ever been there? I've been reduced to three paltry words - "Jesus, help me." And sometimes, it's takes all the mental wherewithal I have just to utter even that little bit a phrase. More and more, I've just been wanting to stay curled up in a ball in my oversized, fluffy, California King platform bed and sleep my life away. Like one miraculous day, I'll wait up and have slept through all the heartache and pain. Funny thing is, my sleep endeavor is less than fruitful. There is no actual rest to be had. It's extremely fitful and fleeting. I wait up several times in the middle of the night, only to be bombarded by unrelenting thoughts that leave me sad and wistful. Prior to my marital issues, I was very active in my local church, in ministry which I absolutely love. When the marriage started to tank, I took a step back from ministry to focus on my household. Unfortunately, things continued to go downhill. Because of this downward spiral, I was in pain and I acted in ways that were less than ministerial. I fussed, I cussed, I even drank at times. I fought to try to hold on to a marriage with a person that obviously didn't want to be held on to. I didn't want to lose my marriage, or at least my ideal of marriage. The truth is, the marriage was lost a long time ago. I was merely holding on to the ideal. The fantasy of what it could be, without wanting to acknowledge what mine actually was. In reality, it was simply "a hot mess." My state of mind affected my church attendance/participation. I didn't really stop going to church. I would watch live online or I would go, but sit in the nearly empty overflow. I didn't want all those people who'd seen me coming to services with my husband to look at me and think, "Awww, look at that poor girl. They must not be together anymore." Nor did I want all those people who genuinely cared to be hugging all on me, feeling sad for me. I didn't want people to look at me and know that I, my marriage, had failed. So, I admit, there was a bit of selfish pride there to contend with. Last Sunday, I finally said - to heck with it. People are going to say and think what they want to say and think. It is what it is. The marriage is over and there is no way in this world we are ever getting back together. I just have to go in here and deal with whatever comes. Funny thing here is, God met me right there. Pastor spoke words that ministered directly to me and where I was at the moment in time. I been through a lot, but I'm still here. It's been rough, but I'm still here. What was meant to destroy me, didn't destroy me. I'm still standing. What started out as sadness turned into rejoicing. Collectively, everyone in that sanctuary, let go of the pain and started rejoicing. Eventually, the song came forth that says "Thank you Lord for all you've done for me." Realizing, that I could be homeless, hungry, unclothed, whatever. Though, my situation seems disparaging, I still have so much to be thankful for. In addition, I was also met with hugs and prayers from women of God that loved on me and poured into my spirit. They didn't know that I'd been in the overflow or watching online. One woman said, you've been on my mind and I been wondering about you. She hugged me and wouldn't let go. Another woman, I'll be honest, our spirits don't even really gel all like that, found me outside in the hallway and just hugged me and began praying for me. I realized after that service that I spent far too much time trying to hide my pain. That I needed to come out of hiding in order to allow the love to find its way into my life and my heart. One day, I fully anticipate that God will bring the man He desires for me into my life. What I have to do is come out of hiding, literally and figuratively, in order for him to orchestrate all the pieces and moving parts. The only love I'm actively seeking after is God's love. God found me when I needed Him the most. He knows how to find me to bring the love I need. So, the love lesson is simple - Stop hiding and allow love to find you.

Making the change - ready to be healthy!

Getting back into the swing of things

It's been a long time since I've posted, and that is entirely my fault. I've allowed life's changes, ups and downs, to move me away from what I do. What I do is write. When I write, I can begin to make sense of life's ups and downs. Writing helps me to sort things out and not get caught up - which is where I have been for a long time now. So, to recap... Ended a job in June 2011, as my sanity and well-being were on the line. Out of work for nearly 7 months - with no income whatsoever, unemployment benefits denied. Depleted life's savings to make ends meet. Thank God there was a life savings to begin with! Was blessed with a job in January 2012. Getting exposure in a great new field of financial planning. Downside - $12K per year pay cut. Result - short about $500/mo on bills. But God is still good! Hoping to get a loan modification on the mortgage or it may be time to seriously downsize. Husband came home in March 2012. Talk about a roller coaster! We've been married since 2006, but never lived together before now. This has been an adjustment for both of us. It is really hard for him because people with felony convictions have a difficult time obtaining employment. His patience and faith are being tested as the "old man" wants to revert back to past behaviors to make ends meet. He is extremely frustrated because he can't contribute to the household financially. His frustration translates into friction for us because as most of us do, we lash out at the ones closest to us. He's applied at temp agencies, completed a class at the Urban League for job readiness, and I've completed numerous applications for him online. It's like once the "Have you ever had a felony" box is checked, your app is immediately declined. As a wife, I'm doing my best to be an encourager. However, I must admit the burden wears on me as well from time to time. I am excited to get back into my master's program in ministry (specifically pastoral counseling) at Ohio Christian University. I love learning! Although, working full-time and going to school is stressful, I am looking forward to the growth I will experience academically, personally, and spiritually. Saying all of this to say... Life may be crazy at times, but God is still good and He is still in charge. Best advice is to keep it moving. My flesh longs to stay in "stuck" mode when things are not going well. But crazy is as crazy does. It would be crazy to remain standing still when God has so much more planned for us. There is a time and a season for everything and joy will come in the morning! Don't give up on God because He won't give up on you!

The hardest part is getting started….

I finally stopped thinking and talking about it.  I’ve put my decision and gift into action and I’m doing it!  Chapter 1 done.  Chapter 2 on point for today.

I must admit, this isn’t the first book I thought I’d be writing.  I’m not sure how it will be received by family, church family and friends.  However, the story is grounded in reality.  It’s what people struggle with on a day-to-day basis, saints and sinners alike. 

It will ultimately become a story of growth, revelation and redemption. It starts out rather “raw and uncut.”  Yet, at one point, life was “raw and uncut” for many of us, especially me. 

Can’t wait until I can report a finished product.  The next one is already on tap, if God allows it.  If He does, I’ll win back the fan base I’m going to lose with Book 1.    If he doesn’t, I’ll keep collecting haterz.  LOL

God Bless!

Fighting to Survive

Sometimes it's hard to talk about difficult personal issues with anyone. Some topics are taboo or simply misunderstood. Some people pass instant judgment or make assumptions that are often incorrect, incomplete, or downright idiotic.

One of the hush-hush topics in the African-American community is mental illness. Although many people are impacted by the disease, no one wants to talk about it. We would rather shuttle Aunt So-and-So off to the back room when company comes so that nobody knows our precious family secret. Heaven forbid, she might embarrass the family. Oh no! We can't have that. What will the neighbors think?

Our collective unwillingness to engage in open, non-judgmental dialogue about mental illness is one of the reasons many are still held captive by this insidious disease. I have battled clinical depression since I was 14 years old. My diagnosis, which I still have yet to share with my family, occurred when I was 21 years old.

I recognized the stigma attached to mental illness long before my own diagnosis came. In my family, mental illness meant you were weak. You either just gave up or you didn't have enough faith in God. After all, how could you be depressed if you believe in God? I totally understand the spiritual argument. In fact, in some instances I've used that line of reasoning on myself. And sometimes, that argument has prevailed victoriously over my depression. But in some instances, my self-talk couldn't overcome that mountain before me. Sometimes, depression landed on me with its full weight - heavy, oppressive and suffocating. Still to this day, that internal battle wages within me, how can I be a born-again Christian and still experience depression?

At 21, I dropped out of college, quit my job, and basically stayed in my apartment for months on end. Unable to perform the simplest of tasks like washing dishes or doing laundry. Even bathing was a monumental task. The only thing I seemed capable of was crying for hours on end, imagining and envisioning the worst, feeling worthless, and having no idea how to unearth myself from my own personal tomb.

During my adolescence and early adult years, my family's characterizations of me were less than flattering. I can recall one Sunday afternoon and a dinner gathering hosted by my mother. She invited some of her church friends over to eat and fellowship. I'm not sure what testimonies my mother gave in church, but one of the church elders had no qualms in telling me just how lazy he thought I was over the course of that dinner. I can't really fault the man for his opinion. What hurt my heart was the absence of a mere shabby defense or even a simple, lackluster protest voiced by any family member present. This elder simply spoke what everyone else felt, but they were pleasant enough to keep to themselves.

To someone like myself battling depression, the elder's words weren't exactly messages of hope, encouragement, assistance, or consolation. In fact, his uninformed judgment and many such like, plunged my fragile psyche into an even more precarious state.

Why am I talking about this now? Because I am fighting to stave off another major episode of depression at this very moment in time. And I feel that my offense, my survival, my weaponry is linked to my willingness to be transparent, honest, and forthright about my struggle. I am, in essence, fighting to survive.

I have so much more I want to say on this topic because of my intimate acquaintance with depression, along with its vast devastation and the debilitating effects left in its quake. But alas, one must get enough sleep if he/she is going to rejoin the fight tomorrow. God bless and please pray for me.

Forgiveness Ain't For Sissies

Just the other day, three days ago, to be exact... My one and only son posted some hurtful and untruthful things about me on his Facebook page. And I realize our relationship hasn't always been stellar, a lot of it due to my own immaturity. Getting pregnant at 14 and having a son at 15 didn't come with an instruction manual or a magic wand that granted instant motherly know-how.

In fact, partly out of fear, respect and some apathy, I left the majority of the rearing of my son's younger years to my aunt and uncle. By the way, these are the same people who raised me. My aunt and my uncle were very protective of my son, overprotective. I couldn't take him to a park, or friend's house, without them calling every hour or so to see if he was okay. It's like they didn't trust me to take care of my own son. I guess I let their distrust make me question my own abilities.

At the very least, their intrusiveness provided an all too convenient excuse to shirk my parental responsibilities, as such as they were at the tender age of 15. I had no job, no home of my own. I was at the mercy of their demands because I was living under their roof. I wasn't free to learn to be a good parent because I didn't have a voice or room to grow. I didn't get a chance to make mistakes or learn from those mistakes. I was treated like a kid (because I was a kid). I wasn't given a chance to grow/mature into motherhood (because the mothering came standard for me and my son in that household).

Okay, so up to the present. On Friday, my son writes something to the effect of "You know if I ask Mah Dukes for help, it's gotta be because I need it. I go to her and ask her to do something that is going to help my life and she says go figure it out. I'm not like her. I'm not one of those people who can figure EVERYTHING out. She tells me to go ask someone else. Well, guess what, I always do. Thanks for nothing mah dukes."

Where to start? Where to start? First, the "mah dukes" title? Seriously?! I rushed off my job not less than 7 days before when you got in a car accident. I beat the ambulance there and I came from Dublin, OH. I won't even mention how far over the speed limit I was. I was the first person you called when that happened asking me what to do. When you were sitting out on the porch crying after the accident, who stopped and gave you the pep talk and reassurance that everything would be okay? Not only that, who put a card of encouragement in the mail the very next day letting you know I was here for you?

On the day of this FB posting, you call me. Say you're about to come down and cut my grass. Ask if you can come in to use the computer. I say yes. Then I give it some thought. I call you back and let you know I'm going to leave the door open for you because I'm in bed and don't feel well. You say okay. You come down. I hear you come in. You holler up the stairs, how do I turn on MS Word? I say, it's on the start menu. I tell you far left corner, click on the round button and it will show up. (Did I mention I'm sick in bed?). I get tired of yelling so I tell you to bring up the computer. (Sick in bed, no clothes on, NyQuil infused, alternating chills and sweating spells.) I say hand me the computer. Low and behold, guess where MS Word is, right where I said it would be on the start menu. I hand the computer back. Now you ask me, how do I type a resume. I reach for the computer again. Pull up resume templates and hand it back. You say, there are too many here and I don't know which one to pick. I ask you what kind of job you looking for? You say you don't know. A sister of a friend says they are hiring at Chase bank. Okay, my best guess says that would be customer service. I pull up a customer service resume. It's pre-populated. All you have to do is change the name and edit the bullet points, history, education, etc. to make it your own. You say, I don't know what some of these words mean under accomplishments, like implementation, productivity, etc. (Mind you, I'm still sick in bed). I explain the words. You're still frustrated because you're not getting it. I say just print off this resume. Take it home and write out what you want yours to say. Just use this format, this look, and think of accomplishments you've made on you job. How did you help to increase sales, or bring in more customers, or help develop fellow employees? You're still "confused." I say ask someone to help you. I think, not so much confused, you just want me to do it for you like I always do. But I'm sick!!!

Next day, I get up and read your nasty post. Okay, so yes. My response probably wasn't very nice, but I felt it needed to be said. I responded, "You forgot to mention mah dukes was in the bed sick and half sleep. The world can't always operate on your time schedule. While you asking everybody else, ask them to pay your cell phone bill." .....Considering you four months behind on paying your cell phone bill since I put on my plan so you could save $70 over your previous carrier. Oh, and for that previous carrier, I put the account in my name cause you asked me to that you didn't pay on so it went on my credit report. I didn't write in all that. I'm just venting here.

So later that day, he must have read my response or thought the better of it because he took the post and my reply down. No apology whatsoever mind you.

Then yesterday, he sends me a text message. It reads, "Do you think you'll have time to help me with my resume. My boss just told me the big boss is cutting employees because of bad business. I have two weeks. Please."

I pray and respond, "Sorry to hear you're being let go. Been there. Write what you want it to say. I'll type it up. BTW, wasn't cool or true what you put on FB. That hurt."

Do you think I've yet to receive so much as an apology? Ummm, Nope!

I know this must be a ministry opportunity because my flesh is screaming, "You are the most ungrateful, disrespectful, spoiled, immature, selfish, self-centered, only out for yourself, it's all about you person I'ver ever known." And I soooooo want to voice those sentiments as opposed to only thinking and feeling them.

But instead, my spirit man sends a quiet text today that says, "What time are you trynna work on your resume?"

I hope that God gives me swift and clear discernment on when it's time to invoke tough love. I have a servant's heart and I'm always trying to help someone who needs help. My son or otherwise. I know there will come a day when I will have to step aside and let go and let God do all the helping there is to be done.

Saints, pray my strength in the Lord.