Retrospective Introspection

Despite the fact that that’s not really the most accurate title for my blog post tonight, it’s the first one that comes to mind; fitting just slightly for how I feel inside.

Tonight as I sit here reflecting on the weekend’s events, I simply cannot help but to let my mind simmer in the stew that is the melting pot of God’s goodness.  I went to a ladies’ conference here in Florida just recently, which is a powerful Christ-centered event that has already and will forever change my life.  I learned a lot, and my spirit is full.  Keeping up with the Joneses is no longer a focus of mine, neither is putting on airs of self-righteousness or arrogance.  I can be perfectly imperfect striving towards heavenly perfection, knowing that Jesus knows about every flaw, weakness, and problem that I have and has just the remedy for what ails me.  Maybe its a soothing word of comfort from a friend.  Maybe its a nod of correction from an elder in the church (we call them church mothers), or simply just a word from the mouth of God…but whatever the ailment, Jesus can fix my problem.

I have come to find that throughout life’s turbulent ups and downs, and even through the peaceful quiet times, that when things don’t go right or as expected, that I can know of a certainty that God is in control.  Sure, things get hard sometimes and don’t always go my way. And yes, there are times when I even question why God allows certain things to happen to me or in my life. We all do.  But you know what? I remind myself that the word of God tells me that He is the “author and finisher of my faith” (Heb 12:2) and that my life’s story begins AND ends with Him.  It’s not over until God says it is over. I can keep running on and finish this Christian race. I don’t know about you, but I’m comforted by that.  Especially because I don’t have all of the answers.

Anyway friends, take comfort in the Lord tonight as you sip your tea.  Bask in His presence and warm ambiance of His love. Let His gentle hand of guidance comfort and lead you by the still waters of life, and bring you to a resting place of surety and security in Christ Jesus.

It will be alright.


Sip warm tea tonight, friends.



Growing. Evolving. Changing.







Posted in Christ-centered, Christianity, Faith, Healed, Healing process, Me: The WEIRDER picture, Ministry, Motivation, Uncategorized, YOU: The BIG picture | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Woman in the Mirror…

So, I look at myself in the mirror, and the woman who stares back at me doesn’t at all resemble the woman I used to know.

This woman staring back at me is deep.  In fact, she isn’t even staring at me; she’s glaring at me.  Challenging me.  Daring me to make a move.  Because she knows that for every move I make, she’s got a counter move right up her sleeve.

This woman is interesting.

She’s soulful and warm, yet stern, cunning, and wise — all at the same time.  She’s different.  Not who I remember her to be.

This woman isn’t at all afraid to lean her head back and let out a hearty laugh from way deep down.  Not afraid to shed salty tears when she’s sad or lonely; won’t hesitate to pray when necessary or asked to.  And throws one mean tea party…ask any 5-year-old she knows.

Who is this woman, and where did she come from?

The woman I remember was timid and shy.  Jumped at sudden noises, resisted challenges with every bone in her fragile, weak body.  She was too careful, and too careless.  Everyone she knew spoke for her; finished her sentences ’cause she couldn’t finish them herself.  Yeah, that’s who I remember.

This woman in the mirror is vastly different, as I said.  Clouded in mystery; yet transparency and boldness are her typical orders of the day.  Born a native to the states, but linguistically apt, she dances in Caribbean rhythms and belts out old gospel hymns with an authoritative power that can only come from heaven.  She whistles as she works with her hands, kisses boo-boos on skinned knees, feeds friends and enemies alike if they’re hungry, and hums low, steady, and strong – like an 80-year-old grandmother – as she prepares supper and does housework.

Not sure where this woman I see came from, or exactly where she is headed, but I plan to tag along to find out.  If I had to speculate – knowing her upbringing- I’d surmise she’s a combination of her momma and her daddy, mixed with some grand- and great-grands, a bit of old-school with a new-school twist, and enough New York in her to stand out in the South but embrace it just the same.


This woman I see has Grown. Evolved. Changed.  And I give God praise for it.




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Don’t think I didn’t notice you! (Seasons)

I see you changing right before my eyes.  Don’t think I didn’t notice you.

Your pine needles are falling, and your berries are lining the streets and walkways.  Don’t think I didn’t notice you.

The air is cooler, the sun comes up a little later.  

I took notice.


I can see that you’re changing, right in time with your season.

Long, dry summer is morphing into cooler, colorful autumn.

And you’re perfectly tuned in to where you should be.

It’s your season.


Although the change is required, and also quite welcome,

You’re careful to not shed it all at one time.  

You know your seasons well, and you adapt and adjust in perfect harmony with 

Your season.


Holiday hustle and bustle can’t force the rhythms already preset to a predestined dispensation.

The time it took for you to be as perfect as you are

was worth the scorching summer heat

and the arid airs devoid of precipitation.

Even with falling flowers and homebound honeybees,

Your graceful transition into your natural orange and brown melody

Is more than my outdoor love can stand.


I love watching your season change.

I know its your time, and words escape my overflowing thoughts

as I try to express just how splendid is your delicate balance.


Autumn is coming, and your season has arrived.

And it’s beautiful.



GrowEvolveChange 2014


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Going ducky….. (Funny true story)

Random little-known Friday factoid:

I am a duck-lover.  

Okay, more along the lines of a duck-liker; I don’t exactly love them, per se.  Not in a Duck Dynasty kind of way.  I do, however, study their behavior when I can, and enjoy feeding them.  Maybe sneak in a snapshot of families together every now and again.

Yes, I am the duck lady.  Hardy-har-har.

I am the one who sits under the trees watching and talking to the fowls that occupy the local ponds and lakes.  Why, you ask?  Because it’s quiet there.  Because it’s peaceful there.  And because the ducks aren’t overly picky with their dinner; they eat what you give them, what they can swallow, eat until they’re full, and they swim away happy.

So not like the rest of us.

My informal career as the duck lady began many months ago.  Having observed a number of duck-families in action, I started noticing behavior patterns among themselves – many of which resemble your typical American family, believe it or not.  What intrigues me the most is how the adolescent ducks behave – it’s hilarious and appalling at the very same time. These ungrateful little heathens with feathers go from soft, cuddly, cute ducklings to ravenous, bread-hungry, duck-brutes in a matter of weeks.  They take no prisoners, I tell you, and they are not afraid to let you know that.  Shameful, it is, really.

In fact, it is this very behavior pattern that compelled me to write this post.  Several days ago, I was out walking my chihuahua, Charlie, when I noticed a mama duck and her then-well-behaved little brood nestled in the safety of the reeds in a nearby pond.  In my mind, I was thinking that it would be nice to unwind by spending some time feeding them, so naturally I had to follow due process to introduce myself before I could be “approved” to share dinner time with them.

Ah, yes.  Did I neglect to mention there is a process one must follow before one can feed a duck family?  Indeed, there is, friend.  Indeed, there is.  To be under the assumption that one can just “feed” a duck without permission from the patriarch and a behavioral interview from the matriarch of the family is to live under false pretenses, you see.  

Here’s how it usually works:

  1. Bread supplier (a/k/a the “duck lady”) makes slow incline or decline toward bank and announces arrival by making weird clicking sound with tongue or mouth.  This lets them know that you come in peace and mean no harm.  Most macho duck patriarchs dig that.
  2. Bread supplier slowly reaches for dinner, in whichever packaging it’s brought in – paper bag, napkin, etc.  It is important to remember to not make any sudden movements.  Don’t let these guys fool you.  They roll deep.  When they stand up and flap their wings, that is not showing off.  That is your official warning to take cover immediately, as they are likely summoning their entire species, including prison inmate relatives who can and will beat you to death if they think you’re a threat.  Death by duck is not a pretty sight.  Proceed with caution.
  3. Once bread is in hand, throw a few crusts toward the patriarch first.  This way he can assess and analyze it, test it for cooties, and let his wife know it’s safe for the children.  Once the wife gets the dad’s okay and gives you the once-over (you are another female, after all), you are now an approved supplier.  You’re the duck lady, congratulations.

Okay, did that, and now I’m clear to provide sustenance for this family, right?  Yes.  So, Charlie and I spent a few minutes today and earlier this week with my new friends, and I’m noticing that the now-teenaged duck-brutes (they’re not babies anymore) practically claw over one another to get to the meal; all the while mama-duck stands back, maintains some distance, and eats the leftovers.  WHAT???  You mean to tell me that mama-duck, after ALL that she has done for the duck-brutes in her lifetime isn’t considered before the feeding begins?  Mama gets no credit at all?  She doesn’t get first dibs on dinner?  Not even a moment of thanks or a unanimous quack to say “thanks, Mom?”  The nerve!!

Who’s running that nest, anyways?

Seeing this detestable demonstration of lack of gratitude left me angry and not a happy camper at all.  I was so upset that Charlie and I left, and I vowed not to return anytime soon.  Or, at least not until suppertime tomorrow.  That’s what they get.  Where is the love? Where’s the humanity?  As much as I love my own children, well, like they’re my own, in some ways they remind me of these little duck-brutes.  Want it all, need it now, “give-me-its-mine”, and Mama gets the leftovers…if at all.  Sheesh.

Well, at least I take comfort in knowing that some day, my little duck-brutes ( ahem, I mean, children…heh heh :)) will have broods of their own and will inevitably learn that parenting – in whatever shape or form it comes in – is a thankless job, in which we are most often left to clean up the crumbs.  It’s still love, and even with the leftovers, it’s still our job to protect them and teach them to never eat bread from strange duck ladies.  It’s for their own good.

….besides, you don’t want to end up like crazy Cousin Steve.  Story goes that he got out of the river and has never been the same since.  Quacks to himself and all.

Hope I made you laugh. 😛


Posted in Me: The WEIRDER picture, Parenting, Raising teenagers, Random Zaniness, Relationships | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Lunchtime limbo?

With regard to bending on my decisions to pursue my dreams?  My response is a triumphant “I think not!”

Interestingly enough, I knew when I first made up my mind to pursue something I started working on a long time ago that there were going to be some disappointments and a lot of nay-saying. I knew I’d face some possible discouragement, too — from the online community and beyond that.

What I didn’t pencil into my plans at the time was how I was going to prepare for that. But the time to implement and execute that game plan is right now.  While I will not profess to be any kind of a science buff, I do know that the Law of Physics tells us that there is an “equal and opposite reaction for every action.”  And so, it would be silly of me to think that I could step out on faith and move forward with new projects and not face backlash of some sort.


That backlash came in my general direction as I was recently conducting some independent research, only to find a number of sources that frown upon “dreamers”, such as myself.  There is certainly no shortage of articles, opinions, and blogs about folks who branch out on their own to do the unconventional in terms of independent or freelance work.  And rightly so — I mean, they can think or say whatever they wish, after all.  It’s just discouraging when you read that stuff, you know?

Now, let me clarify what I mean by the term “dreamer.”

In no way am I insinuating that I am some odd clairvoyant-type with underworldly powers.  No, indeed.  When I use that term, I just simply mean that I have finally made up my mind to actively and aggressively pursue several independent projects that I have always dreamed of working on (it does have more meaning to me than that, but that is another blog altogether).   By the grace of God, I am blessed with the opportunity, time, and space to put those plans into action, and thus, I am.

My immediate focus, however, is to pray about it and push through anyway, despite the negative feedback that’s out there. If I can encourage or help someone else along the way, that’s an added bonus.  A free gift with purchase, if you will.  In the very same way that I can decide on what to eat for lunch, I can likewise decide whether I will accept the negative over the positive, or vice-versa.


Personally, I think I’ll take a heaping dish of positive thinking today with a side of “Let’s do this.” 


Besides…I never really was good at doing the limbo anyway.


Have a great afternoon y’all,





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Love, unabridged.

Tonight, there is a place in my heart that is grieved sore with the pangs of anticipated emptiness that has come to full fruition. Love left it some years ago, and healing and restoration settled in where life left a void. When it was good and ready, excitement over the potential of new and fresh love brought with it butterflies and flutters in my stomach, but my heart was once more disappointed. This time, however, the disappointment wasn’t rooted in uneven yokes or a “first-love-first-marry” mindset.  It swirled around flirtatious glances, second chances, and failed romances. It danced in and out of my life like the perfect gentleman it pretended to be, debonair as ever, smooth and light on his feet, and with an intensity and zeal for God that rivaled my own. This drew me in, but left me standing on the shores of uncertainty.  I vowed to myself that I was done with disappointment; I no longer wanted to be his pawn in the chess game of life. I was through. Wasn’t I?


So why is disappointment knocking at my door once again?  Who told him that welcomed his presence or wanted him around? Association with him brings exposure of the wounded heart in my soul and a mockery of the bittersweet truth that my love sought a life to be adjoined to.

So I cry.  No, I moan. A deep, mournful groan wells up from the pit of my belly, mimicking a ship’s horn in sound, leaving salty traces of memories that never came to be.

Jesus answers my cries with my own question, “Why?” when He asks me why I don’t trust him.

Trust Him with the most sensitive organ in my whole body; pumping blood through my veins and reaching the heart of God faster than my silent tears ever could.

“Yes”, I can trust Him, He tells me, and that I should hold on. I can run on to see what the end is going to be. But I must believe Him. Believe that God can do the impossible. Believe that He can move mountains. Believe that He can mend the brokenness and heal the pain of my past.

I decide to take his word for it and let the healing process ensue. Expecting the unexpected is more of a challenge than I had anticipated. It’s okay, though. I know that my heart’s in good hands with Jesus, and that it can never be hurt or disappointed there. It’s in good hands there. I trust it there. I like it there.

Disappointment can’t find me there. Good, because I plan to part ways with disappointment and follow hope and success.

Maybe my new life will find me there.

Posted in Faith, Healing process, Healing progress, Love, Moving on / Starting fresh, Relationships, Uncategorized | Leave a comment

“Don’t Bring Your Class Into the Reign “



Sistah Girl, please, don’t bring your class into the reign.
Don’t try to get over your hurt and your pain
and leave us here stranded with your guilt and your shame.
Don’t even try to put everyone else in a box;
We don’t want back our keys to your chains and your locks.

Stop trynna to impress us with this phony fake heir.

We know you can’t afford to do your own hair.
We know that you stress, and we know that you shout,

But what we really do think is you’re in worry and in doubt.

Stop saying you’re “free”, and be free Indeed.
Your future’s not bright unless you’re jealous of me!


Now you listen here, Miss ” I’m missing life”!
Don’t you come botherin’ me with your stress and your strife!
I’ve worked long and I’ve worked hard to get some peace in my soul;
For to you to come steal it with your “half-empty” bowl!

If you’re against me, you’re against the Great King.
‘Cause He’s livin’ in me;
It’s for Him that I sing!

I’m still going to prayze Him,
I’m still going to church,
I’m still gonna worship,
Even with pain and hurt!

God promised my life would be totally new.
I’m sorry if I’m too “happy” for you.
I pray blessings on you, and what God has in store.
I want you to be blessed, and be blessed all the more!
Sistah friend-girl, get out of my way.
I’m growing, changing, and loving today.

In Jesus’ name,

Grown. Changed. Loved.

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Despair meets Deliverance

It’s like a scene from an apocalyptic sci-fi film that you paid too much money for. Good vs. Evil, man vs. beast, etc….only this isn’t a film, folks.

It’s real life.

Oh, how we’d like to believe that there won’t one day be a rapture and the King of kings and the Lord of lords won’t return!  But He will.

Those trumpets really will sound, the clouds shall truly part, and the King of glory really will come in.  It’s not make believe; it’s the will and plan of God.

You don’t have to believe me; just open your bible and (as you read through) skip to the back of the book to the chapter entitled Revelation. The proof is in the red letter.

Although it sounds scary, it doesn’t have to be. There is good news for you, friend.  You see, we have a blessed hope in Jesus Christ. In exchange for your heart, soul, and your plans, God gives us His Spirit, unspeakable joy, and life everlasting.  And a plan for your life that is far better than anything else. The trade off really isn’t fair; what He gives us is worth so much more than we can offer Him.

The alternate option isn’t so great, although seemingly attractive on the surface. You see, Satan’s desire for your soul is a bloodthirsty, greedy, gainful one to the extent that he will stop at nothing to gain a grip on you and drag you to hell’s pit.

It’s your choice, and your mission, should you choose to accept it.  I can assure you that life is sweet with Jesus.  Signing a pact with Satan only brings death and destruction.  It’s no laughing matter, and not a fun game, let me tell you.

Make the decision to follow Jesus today.  I encourage you to seek Him with your whole heart, and know that He will make ways for you, and never disappoints.

Praying for you,

Grow. Change.


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Moving past the Monotony

Here is where I move past the monotony. Here’s my fresh and new, my new and old, and my “In Christ I am set free.”

I’m moving past my monotony. 

I’ve left the challenges of life, the wayward way disdained, the tiresome oppression, and the bitterness and pain.

I’ve left behind the monotony.

Growing into something good, and moving on in life.  Pushing past the painful present, sacrificing grief and strife.

No more is the trouble near; my knight has finally come. I hold the flag, the banner stained, the victory I’ve finally won.


Grow. Evolve. Change.


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Trusting with my Whole Heart

All I have is yours, Lord.

I’m trusting you with my Whole Heart.

I got rid of the baggage, and left behind the new and shiny pieces of the futured promise that you have for me.

I’m trusting you.

I know that the place I’m going to is going to be made just for me, and the new start will be just what my life needs to begin again.

The gentle turbulences and strong subtleties of my healing have shaped and molded me into a creative being; ready to worship and delve into servanthood and your Word at a moment’s notice.

You’re worthy of my worship. I can trust you.

You’ve never let me down; you’re there when I call, pick me up when I fall, and held my hand through it all.  You’re my Lord and Saviour, and I will forever give you the praise.

The healing, the growing, the peace, the sowing. Your wisdom, your might, your love, you’re knowing.

I trust you with my whole heart.


Grow. Evolve. Change.

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Appropriate Inemotionality

I’m in an odd place; an emotionally strange place tonight.

I’m reeling in pain, but reveling in unseen victory tonight.

In my thought space, there’s hope for me tonight; in my real life I’m just trying to get it right.

A place for me; a yet seen dream.  Not inner, but outer; somewhere in between. 

Remixing between one good day and one bad; tomorrow’s new blessings for my life not yet had.

Its only a test, and I’m praying to pass.  A student of life, in my heavenly class.

Time 2 Grow.

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