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Is anybody else feeling out of whack? A little odd or off? Are things not lining up the way that they should? Maybe it is just me. This year the church is focusing on alignment. We are being challenged to clearly hear God’s voice and respond accordingly. While hearing His voice is great, it it not enough. We are to be hearers AND doers. And lately, I have been much more of a hearer. Maybe that is why I feel so off center…a little odd…off. Thankfully Sunday’s sermon gave me some practical advice and answers. It’s time to dive into a sermon recap. The message from Sunday centered around John 2:1-11. Jesus, His mother Mary, and the disciples were all invited to a wedding in Cana of Galilee. I love a good wedding. Don’t you? I can hear the hum of conversation, smell the tantalizing aromas of a good meal, see the fabulous outfits, and let’s not forget the wine. Wine was a symbol of celebration in Jewish wedding feasts, and it also signified a husband’s ability to take care of his bride. The wine was a big deal. And unlike a modern American wedding, Jewish wedding feasts lasted for days. And the groom was expected to provide enough wine to last for the duration of the festivities. Well, at this particular wedding feast, on this particular day, the wine ran out. If this was a movie, this is when the record would screech, and everyone would look towards the camera. This unnamed newly married couple is in big trouble. When Mary realizes the wine is gone, she does not cause a big scene or gossip with fellow wedding guests about how poor the groom is. She turns to Jesus. If anyone can help, He can. She is interceding on behalf of the couple without their permission and without their approval. She sees a need and goes to the One that can surely meet that need. And if this was a movie, Jesus would instantly produce wine. The music would resume, and the wedding feast would commence. But the story doesn’t proceed like that. Jesus lets Mary know that now is not the time for Him to step in. This feels off…odd…out of whack even. My God, my personal Lord and Savior has the means to provide. His mother asks for provision, and he says it’s not His time??? That ruffles my feathers. But Mary gives us a great practical response to resistance from Jesus. She turned to those near her and tells them to do whatever Jesus says. She wants to do what is necessary to help the couple that is in need. So, she pulled other people into alignment. Not only do they need to listen to what He says, they need to actually DO what He says. Okay, we are finally getting somewhere. It’s miracle time. Right? Except… Jesus tells them to get water. Correct me if I’m wrong, but Mary asked for wine. Not water. Despite the fact that the assignment did not seem to match up with the request, the servants gathered the water. They filled six water pots that would hold twenty or thirty gallons of water to the brim. They drew some of the water out and gave it to the master of the feast and when he tasted it…it had been transformed to wine. Mary’s request had been granted. I don’t know about you, but my life is definitely not like a movie. I mean, the answers don’t come in pretty packages. The soundtrack doesn’t stop when big life altering moments occur. I find that I have to keep on keeping on, much like Mary did in these scriptures. Mary saw a couple in need and interceded for them until change occurred. She aligned herself and others with God’s word and it did not return to her void. The couple got the wine…the celebration…the result of Jesus intervening, and they never asked for the help. My ability to align myself with God’s word not only impacts my life, but it impacts the life of others. How amazing is that? How scary is that? Someone is depending on your obedience for their breakthrough. That challenging family member that gets on your nerves? The co-worker that causes all kinds of strife? Your children? Your spouse? Your neighbor? Pray, hear, and then do what the Lord says. It doesn’t have to make sense to you. Look at Mary. Alignment gets the answers. #wepreach Thoughts to Ponder: Who are behind the scenes people in your life that have helped you become who you are? Have you consistently prayed for someone that you know is struggling with an issue without being asked to? Why or why not? What is the last instruction that God gave you? Have you followed through? Why or why not? Pray for one person this week that you know is in need of help.

It’s been a month of Sundays since I wrote a sermon recap. Make that months of Sundays. Charge it to my head…and my heart. I have been on the struggle bus, but I suppose now is as good a time as any to get off. And Sunday’s sermon helped me get out of my seat and join civilization. I hope it does the same for you. Enough chit chat. Let’s dive into the sermon. 2 Kings 6:1-7 contains a story that is easy to overlook. One of those passages of scripture that you glaze over. Not a big deal. A school of prophets had outgrown their current living arrangements. They asked Elisha if they could build a bigger dwelling. He consented and the prophets set off to the Jordan River to cut down trees. They all got to work. They picked up axes and began to swing and chop. And then, a small mishap…a little thing…happens. One prophet cries out because his ax head has fallen into the water. Elisha asks where the ax head fell, cuts off a branch, throws it in the water and the iron ax head floats. Elisha tells the prophet to pick it up. The prophet reaches out his hand and picks the ax head up out of the Jordan River. A little thing. A small concern. Fixed and handled. Except it’s not really a little thing to the prophet. Prophets were not rolling in the dough. And while the prophet was willing to work to build a new dwelling, he did not own an ax to get the work done. Iron was an expensive metal, and the prophet did not have the money to spare to purchase an ax. So, he borrowed the ax from someone else. And now that borrowed ax head had fallen off into the Jordan. Now let’s be honest here. The prophet had options. He could have continued to whack away at the tree. Everyone was busy and likely would not have noticed that his ax head had fallen off. He could have just played the part and gone along to get along. Moving in sync with others that were actually yielding results. Or he could have walked away. After all, there was no need for him to be there anymore. His ax head was gone. He no longer had purpose….right? Thankfully, this prophet did not take any of those approaches. He still wanted to work. He just no longer had an effective tool. So, he cried out for help. A simple problem. A small concern. Solved quickly. So what’s the big deal? By now, I’m sure you have gathered that the ax head is not just important to the prophet, but it is important to us as well. The ax head was being used to help collect materials to build a house that the prophets needed. Remember the prophets? Prophets were responsible for delivering God’s message to the people. And the people desperately needed God’s Word. Back then, and certainly today. Food, shelter, and clothing are basic needs, and building this home would supply the profits with shelter and a place to learn how to do what God called them to do. Remember their purpose? Reaching the lost. And the ax head was key in helping them live out their purpose. A little thing. A simple tool. With a long reach. What is your ax head? What is that thing that you do that you think is of little importance? What is your ministry or outreach that you think does not matter at all? It is such a small thing. Maybe you greet every co-worker as they walk into the office. Or you send people quick text messages to let them know you are thinking of them. You may sing…not like Shirley Ceasar…but you hold down your part in the choir. Not a solo. Just your part. Or you usher. Or you occasionally write sermon recaps and post them on the internet. It’s no big deal. So, you fall off. You stop greeting every co-worker. You quit the text messages. You sit down from the choir. But ya’ll…it’s a big deal. God made each of us with a purpose in mind. And in today’s world, it’s easy to downplay the small things that make us special. We can mislabel our gifts as commonplace and think that they have no effect when they really do. Our axes are pivotal in our connection with others. And more importantly, our ax heads are used to keep people connected to God. So, what’s the solution? Glad you asked. The prophet gives us a powerful template to restore what has fallen off. Cry out for help. God is listening. And when He responds, you have to be willing to reach out and pick that ax head back up. Your contribution to society has the power to change lives. Your ministry saves souls. And you may think it’s a little thing, but God says differently. And that’s a big deal. #wepreach Food for Thought (or chopping down):

I had the same dentist for the majority of my life. He finally retired two or three years ago and sold his practice to a younger man. And while I understood that he was ready to move on to his next phase in life, his retirement threw me for a loop. I can remember my first time in his office like it was yesterday. I must have been in the second grade. My tooth had been giving me the blues. I was in all kinds of pain. My mom had to work, so I went to school until it was time for my dental appointment. I was miserable. My teacher had mercy on me and let me sleep until I was picked up from school. Fear of the dentist was not on my agenda that day. No ma’am! No sir! I was glad to get to someone that could fix my pain. He was kind. Introduced himself and got right to work. I left that day with my smile restored. My dentist was a new friend. A new friend that I saw every 6 months from that point forward. My dental hygienist would scrape all the tartar and hard plaque off my teeth that had gathered since my last cleaning. Then I got to choose the flavor of polish that I wanted her to use on my teeth. In my younger years, I always went with bubble gum. She would then floss my teeth. Get out all the yucky stuff that was trapped in between my teeth. And then my friend…the dentist…would come and check for cavities. He always closed by telling me I had a beautiful smile. Let me be clear. Although I like the results of regular dental appointments, I am not a huge fan of going to the dentist. I have a habit of getting lazy with my dental care. Listen, I brush my teeth every day. But I do not always floss daily. Oh, but when I get closer to those 6-month checkups, I become a new creature. I brush my teeth multiple times a day. I floss until I can’t get enough because I know that my old friend will be inspecting my smile closely. What is your smile looking like these days? Can it handle a close inspection? I am not talking about the teeth in your mouth. I am talking about the condition of your soul. I am talking about your faith. I am talking about your walk with Christ. And mine too. It is so important for me to practice daily maintenance of my faith. Not just checking in on Sundays and Wednesdays. Not just preparing for a special service. I’m talking about daily prayer and Bible reading. I am talking daily pursuit of a closer relationship with Jesus. Can we make it alright with sporadic check-ins with Christ? Absolutely. People do it all the time. And, from a distance, things appear to be well with them. Their smile looks alright. But closer inspection reveals the tartar. Closer inspection reveals the hard plaque that threatens to decay everything it touches. The decay turns to pain and quite often it is then that the believer reaches out for relief. Let my life and experience be a cautionary tale for you. We don’t have to wait until we are in pain to connect with the One that can heal us. We can have regular check-ins with Him that point out areas in our lives and habits that have the potential to harm us. He wants to preserve our smiles. #wepreach

Happy Monday! This IS the day the Lord has made. We WILL rejoice and be glad in it. Friday’s tornado ripped through our city and created mass destruction in seconds. I do not take it for granted that my family made it through the storm safely. I do not take it lightly that so many families lost all their worldly possessions. These thoughts were running through my head as I made my way to church on Sunday and are still running through my head today. Faith without works is dead, and it is my responsibility to help those in need as much as I can. With action. Not only thoughts and prayers. On that note, let me take action and dive into the sermon recap. Sunday’s sermon comes from Joshua 5:13-15. Joshua is gearing up for battle. A physical battle AND an invisible war. I have so much in common with Joshua. And you probably do as well. Have you ever seen the memes about being kind to others because you don’t know what battles they are facing? We are all encountering wars of some kind. In the face of these battles, our survival instincts kick in. Our minds and our bodies do what needs to be done to keep us safe. They fight to keep us out of harm’s way. And I am so grateful that we have a natural fight within us. It helps to sustain us. The thing about our fight instinct is that sometimes it causes us to fight in the wrong way. In our insistence to remain safe, we take sides. You are either for us or against us. You are on our side or on the side of the enemy. No take backs. It’s cut and dry. It’s black and white. But it is all wrong. While preparing for battle, Joshua sees a Man standing opposite him. And not just any man. This Man has come to fight. And Joshua knows this because the Man has His sword in His hand and ready to take action. Joshua asks the man if He is here to fight for Joshua’s side or the adversary’s side. The Man gets right to the point. He tells Joshua that He is not for either side. Actually, He is the Commander of the army of the Lord. Joshua falls to his face and worships. He knows he is the presence of the Lord. And his quest to secure further fighters for his side ceases. Do you know how much time I have wasted fighting to get the Lord to be on my side? A LOT! Too often it is my way or the highway. I pray and ask the Lord to do it for me. And I tell Him exactly how I would like it to be done. All He has to do is just follow my outlined itinerary. He just has to be on my side. But the reality is that I do not need to ask the Lord to be on my side. I need to be like Joshua and fall on my face and worship. I need to join the Lord’s side. The right side. Open up your mind. Choose ye this day whom you will serve. It requires a daily mindset and focus. We were built and born to fight and survive. We were built to win. But we only experience that victory when we are on the right side. #wepreach

Spring has sprung, and so have the weeds in my yard. Actually, the weeds sprung up at the very beginning of the month. I stared at them growing in my backyard as I rinsed off my plates and cutlery at the kitchen sink. I glanced at them sprouting in the front yard as I hurried to my car to go run errands. They brushed my ankles on my return home after a long day. Yup! Spring has sprung and brought with it rain, slightly warmer weather, and those weeds. The weeds were not as much of an issue when I was getting my yard professionally treated. I know…I know…I know. I can treat the yard myself. And when I was a brand new homeowner, I did all of the things (or outsourced the work to Bible Study Mama and Bible Study Brother…hahaha). I was all in! And ready to do whatever it took to care of my home. As my responsibilities grew, I had a much more difficult time doing it all. So, I paid to have the yard treated to reduce the amount of time that I spent mowing down weeds. Well, it has been 2 years since the weeds have encountered chemicals and they are thriving. Living their absolute best life. Soaking up all the rain and warm weather. And getting bigger every day. The crazy thing is that I have allowed weeds to grow in my spiritual life as well. I went almost a year and a half without going to church. I did not want to hear anything about Jesus. I let my soul go untreated. I watered my weeds with my tears of grief. I stared as the weeds grew. I glanced at them as I went on living life. I let them brush my ankles as I went about my day and did nothing to stop their growth. I let them live and grow bigger every day. Thankfully, I did not stay that way. I put my bonnet and head wrap on. I grabbed my lawn-mowing shoes. I filled the lawn mower up with gas. And I cranked up my lawn mower for the first mow of the season. Listen ya’ll. I dread mowing my lawn for the first mow of the season. I think because I know it means that I have to be fully committed for at least the next six months. I have to plan my schedule around the rain and heat to make sure that the yard stays nice and neat. And it’s a workout. There is just nothing cute about mowing the yard. But it’s my yard. And I have to maintain it. Much like my spiritual life. I’m grateful that I came to myself and realized that I needed to get rid of the weeds that had taken root in my faith walk. And the first mow was rough. Getting back into the habit of regularly attending service was not easy. Which surprised me. Before I took my long break, I could not have imagined a life without hearing sermons regularly or attending Bible study. I had to mow down the weeds of laziness that had grown over my previously neat yard. And it was a workout. But my faith is important, and I have to maintain it. As I started attending church again, I realized that listening to good Word was not enough to keep my faith at its peak condition. I had to start reading the Word again for myself. I could not outsource it. Jesus died for me personally, and He desires a relationship with me personally. And I had to tune in to His voice daily to see what He wanted to say to me. The weeds are always waiting to grow. Which means I need to be in a position to kill them at their root. Spring has sprung. Maybe your faith is filled with weeds. Or maybe you are experiencing an easy walk filled with sunshine and manicured lawns. Either way, know that your relationship with Christ is essential. If it’s filled with weeds, be encouraged and know that He can mow them down if you lean into Him. If it’s an easy walk filled with sunshine and manicured lawns, be encouraged and know that He can maintain it if you lean into Him (but also don’t be surprised when the rain starts falling and you discover you need a French drain to handle the downpour…because life has a way of life-ing). Yup! Spring has sprung. And I am grateful for the opportunity to steward what God gave me. #wepreach

I work from home. I sit at the computer all day and do my work. While that would drive some folks to drink, it fills my cup. With the exception of occasional phone calls and team meetings, my day is quiet. And I like it way. I can listen to audiobooks and have a TV show on in the background. I can listen to music. Or just enjoy the silence. I set the atmosphere and happily type away. And while I have minimal contact with others during the workday, there are opportunities to engage with my coworkers. Several different chat rooms exist so that we can ask questions if we encounter difficulty, and one chat exists for brain breaks. You can talk about anything or nothing at all. You may guess that my default is nothing at all. And you guessed correctly. A message popped up just the other day from a co-worker. She was encountering a problem and wanted to know if it was just her. She was understandably upset. Things were going well on my end. So, I had no comment. I thought it might just be a one-off occurrence. A co-worker suggested a way to prevent it from happening in the future. The workaround piqued my interest. I completed the work-around in that moment just in case the problem decided to come my way. I went about my workday and happily typed on. You know what happened to me, right? I logged on the next day, and I had the exact same problem that my co-worker had experienced. Thankfully, I had instituted the workaround before the problem ever came my way. I would have been stressed and in a terrible mood trying to fix what went wrong. You know me. I am an introvert’s introvert. I like to be quiet and stay to myself as much as possible. But I could not hold my peace. I had to get on that chat and thank her in front of everyone for sharing her experience because her willingness to share saved me a lot of hassle and frustration. This blog is a very real opportunity for me to share the ultimate workaround that I have operating for me on a daily basis. That workaround is my relationship with Jesus Christ. He died for me and got up for me. He is my Savior. He is my Lord. While my life has been full of problems, my relationship with Him has made all the difference. And I cannot hold my peace about it. As much as I want to be to myself, I realize that sharing my faith walk has the potential to change someone else’s day. They may read about my experiences with Him and decide to try Him for themselves. Often, I think about how small my imprint on the world is. I convince myself that writing the blog could wait. I tell myself that it is not that big of a deal. And then I get reminders that a simple shared experience can have impact for one person. That is more than enough for me. #wepreach

It’s another day’s journey, and I am glad about it. My weekend was full of activity and capped off with the celebration of my Pastor’s 26th anniversary of ministry. Listen…that’s a long time to be dedicated to serving the people of God in a pastoral capacity. Shoot…that is a long time to be dedicated to ministry in any capacity. It takes staying power and a commitment to a calling that is greater than you. Sunday’s sermon served as an encouragement to him, and I think it may empower you as well. Let’s dive in. Mark 6:45-52 finds the disciples in a bit of a predicament. They are in a boat. In the middle of the sea. And they are rowing. The evening has shifted to the fourth watch of the night. This is not a gentle rowing expedition. This is vigorous rowing because the wind is battling all their efforts. They are likely exhausted. And rightfully so. You might be wondering how they ended up in this situation. Great question with an even greater answer. They were doing what Jesus told them to do. After blessing the two fish and five loaves of bread and feeding 5,000 men, as well as their wives and children, Jesus went to the mountain to pray. In search of alone time, He instructed the disciples to get in the boat and head to Bethsaida before Him. And off the disciples went. Row, row, rowing their boat. Following the instructions of the Master. Isn’t that something? You do what the Lord told you to do. You answer His call. And you then find yourself in the middle of the sea…straining against strong winds…in the darkest part of the night. Strong winds and dark situations present themselves in many forms in our lives. Contentious relationships with others, financial hardships, crippling grief — the list could fill this page. And in the midst of that, you have a choice to make. Do I keep doing what the Lord told me to do? Or do I stop rowing? Can I keep fighting against the strong winds? Do I have what it takes, or will my arms give out? Thankfully, for the disciples, and for you and me as well, Jesus was watching their predicament AND walking towards them as they struggled. He told them not to be afraid. He got in the boat with them. The winds ceased. The strain was relieved. Did the sun come out? I am not sure. I did not see that printed in the text. But the Son came in and lit up the darkness with His presence. Rowing in the fourth watch became more manageable with Jesus on board. Have you answered the call that God has on your life? Whatever that call may be. Has it gotten tough? Are you straining against strong wings and the darkest part of the night? Are you ready to throw in the towel? Don’t. Know that Jesus is watching and walking towards you right now. And He wants you to remain committed to the task at hand. Don’t be afraid. Make room for him in your boat. #wepreach

The urge to write hits me at the oddest times and in the strangest moments. A thought will bubble up in my head, and I will want to capture it. Frequently, it is a “stream of consciousness type of experience.” I do not have to scramble for words. They are just there. And they want to be put on a page. They want to spill out onto an empty page and just chill for a while. Sometimes, my fingers cannot keep up with this steady stream of ideas. I misspell or bunch words together but I keep typing. Until the stream dries up. Until all the words have been released. I am not sure what the experience is like for other writers. I have tried to write on a strict schedule. I have created beautiful outlines that fit formulas that I have encountered online…but they just…don’t…work. I will find myself frustrated and at a dead end. Grasping for words like a drowning person reaching for a lifeline. But that lifeline will just not be there. And I know why. Writing truly is a gift from God for me. He connected all the nerves and synapses in my brain to function the way that they do. I cannot follow what works for everyone else, because I am not everyone else. I really have to be connected with Him to operate at the height of my gift. He does not respond to my strict schedules or pretty outlines. He compels me to lean into Him. To trust Him. To listen to Him. And every time I do that, the words flow. And I am not just talking about writing for the blog. I really mean anytime I write. I could be writing about fish or hot air balloons. I could be writing a short synopsis of a book that I read. I could be writing about my pinky toe and the words will rush out with a swiftness that always surprises me. Sometimes I come across a note on a case at work and think “this person is really smart.” And wish that I was that concise or sure. And then see that I’m the person that wrote the note. It’s not me. It’s Him. And I always acknowledge that. Since the day the blog was initially published, I have received a variety of backhanded compliments about my writing, but one really stands out. The person asked my mother if I really wrote them because it seemed like a real writer wrote them. And it made me wonder what a real writer looked like to them. It made me wonder why it never occurred to them that a quiet gal might have a lot to say. But you know what it did not make me wonder. It did not make me question my very real gift. What gifts has the Lord given you that you just sit on? Or downplay? Or question? I have finally reached a season and a place in my life where I am done with mediocrity. I want more. And the only way to receive more is to fully lean into the person that God created me to be. Stay tuned. #wepreach

When Jesus therefore saw His mother, and the disciple whom He loved standing by, He said to His mother, “Woman, behold your son!” John 19:26 NKJV I was probably in my early twenties before I sat down and contemplated the kind of suffering Jesus endured on the cross. Listen, I was raised in the Baptist church, so I was quite familiar with the fact that Jesus died and got up on the third day with all power in His hands. I walked down the aisle at nine years old and said out of my own mouth that I believed He laid His life down and picked it back up just for me. So, it’s not that I wasn’t aware of what happened on Calvary. Shoot, I could have told you all about the nails in His feet and hands. The crown of thorns on his head. It’s just that…well…I wasn’t AWARE. I just had not considered the realities of that kind of pain. Not only physical pain but the spiritual pain of His separation from His Father. I probably started contemplating Jesus’s pain at that point in my life because I was experiencing some genuine pain of my own. I was questioning my faith. I was questioning my place in the world. I was questioning if God truly had a plan for my life. Around this same time, the movie “The Passion of the Christ” came out. And you know I went to see it. The well-rehearsed narrative of the crucifixion that existed in my head did not compare to what I saw on that movie screen. I was horrified. And in awe that Christ would endure that kind of suffering for me. You know I cried like a baby in that movie theater. To hear of His pain was one thing. To see a glimpse of what He went through was another. An unimaginable pain. And in the midst of that pain, Jesus did what Jesus does. He continued to look out for you…and me…all of us. John 19:26 finds Jesus on the cross. Mary, His mother, is no doubt having the worst day of her life. It is Good Friday to us, but I know in this moment, it is a ghastly Friday for her. Her innocent son has been beaten and is now hanging on the cross. There is nothing she can do except watch, and weep, and pray. I can imagine she felt hopeless. I can imagine she felt helpless. Jesus sees His mother and calls out to tell her to look at her son. Now, Jesus was not referring to Himself. Nope. Mary did not need a reminder to look at Jesus. She had her sights fixed on Jesus and all the suffering that He was enduring. Jesus was referring to John, the disciple whom He loved. He wanted Mary to shift her focus. He wanted Mary to look beyond this present suffering and see the future that was set before her. He did not want Mary to be stuck at Calvary. What unimaginable pain have you experienced? What hard blows has life dealt you? What suffering has landed at your door? The longer I live, the harder life hits. And quite often the pain leaves me stunned and staring. Weeping. Praying. And stuck. I cannot see past the insurmountable pain. I get consumed by my present suffering. I have had my fair share of ghastly Fridays. I have felt hopeless. I have felt helpless. And I know that I am not alone. Rain falls on the just and the unjust. But this one scripture convicts me. This one scripture reminds me just how precious I am to God. While Mary’s feelings at the moment were valid, Jesus told her that John would be with her on the other side of this moment. Jesus did not want Mary to be stuck. And He does not want us to be stuck either. Look beyond this. Whatever your “this” is. Jesus came that we should have life and life more abundantly. He died and rose again so that we would have life and life more abundantly. He died and rose again so that we can LIVE. Look beyond this. #wepreach

Let me set the scene for you. Bible Study Mama and I journeyed to Tacoma, Washington last April to visit Bible Study Brother and Canae. We had not seen them in person in seven months. Our face to face reunion was long overdue. I spent quite a bit of time compiling a list activities, and restaurants, that we could enjoy while we were all together. We were only there for 4 days and I wanted to fill our days making memories and having new experiences. Our first adventure was riding a ferry to an island. Listen….I watch Grey’s Anatomy regularly and having ferries right there was too tempting to pass up. I consulted the schedule and let them know what time the boat would be departing. We piled in the car. Bible Study Brother noted that he had about 40 miles of gas left in his tank. Then he said we should be good. ***screech*** (That was me pumping the brakes on his statement). Granted, the island was small. But being that close to “E” did not sit well with me. And while I thought they would have gas stations on the island, who knows how expensive they would be?? We would miss the ferry if we stopped to gas up, but I was willing to wait around for the next ferry. I did not want to get stranded. Or have to push a car. We stopped to gas up and then headed towards the ferry. Bible Study Brother cleared his trip odometer to see how many miles we actually would travel. Would it be more than 40? Or was I being extra? Since we missed the previous ferry, we got a great spot in line for the next ferry. We watched the massive boat head back towards us after all the cars exited on the island. Our turn was quickly approaching. Bible Study Brother pulled into the belly of the boat and we were on our way. The experience was surreal. I am accustomed to enormous cruise ships that hold thousands of people. But I am not accustomed to sitting in a car on a boat while crossing a large body of water. The cars were packed in tightly so there was not much space between cars. While I was excited, I was also ready for some fresh air. The tight car space meant that we could only exit from the driver’s side. No problem. I climbed over the arm rest and we made our way upstairs. The view was worth the delay. The view was worth the contortionist act and sliding between cars. The sky was a vibrant blue. The clouds a stunning white. And the trees were showcasing emerald leaves. God was showing out that day. Our time soaking in the view was short lived because the ferry was quickly approaching the island. And I needed time to contort myself back into the passenger seat. We could have made the first ferry, but I’m not built like that. When going into an unknown situation, I want to be as prepared as possible. I do not want to go in already almost on empty. I like to be as close to full as possible. There are too many variables at play in life. I did not blog for such a long time because I was close to empty and did not want to risk running out. So I had to pump the brakes. But I’m back now. I have been filled. The good Lord was kind to me and made sure that I received all that I needed to press on. I’m sure you want to know how many miles we traveled while on that island. Was Bible Study Brother correct? I’ll fill you in on Tuesday. Our adventure was just beginning. #wepreach

If you have been hanging around here for any length of time, you know I have a ton of memories that are centered around food. Listen, if my family does not do anything else, we eat. I was raised by my great-grandmother, great-grandfather, and extended family for the first five years of my life. My great-grandmother was old school. We got up early in the mornings so that she could make breakfast for us. Biscuits made from scratch. Rolling out the dough. Dipping the formed mounds in grease. Baking them and waiting impatiently for them to be ready. The stuff of my dreams. Mana from heaven. After the food was prepared, we would gather around the table, bless the food, and dig in. And the food was always good. I mean top-notch. No complaints over here. Except…I always wanted to taste the food that was on my great-grandmother’s plate. Now, she did not have special food that she made for herself. Her plate was piled high with the same foods that everyone else had. But…it just looked better. At this point in the story, I am sure that you assume she told me to eat the food on my plate. And you would be wrong. (You know what they say about assuming? Not me…I didn’t say it.) She regularly let me eat the food off her plate. And can I tell you something? I swear it tasted better. The same food that was in bowls on the table just tasted better from her plate. Maybe she did a better job of combining morsels of food on a fork. Or maybe…just maybe…it is because I was a kid and did not want to do the work of feeding myself. I was fully capable. But I liked being babied. It kind of reminds me of myself at various points in my spiritual walk. I get a healthy heaping of Word on Sundays and Wednesdays. I mean the table is spread and there are delectable, nutritious dishes all around. My plate is prepared. And I want to nibble off what someone else has. I mean my plate is full, but I want somebody else to put some morsels on the fork and feed me. I am fully capable of picking up my fork and diving into the Word for myself. But I do not want to. I like being babied. Child, this was a reminder that I have to remain committed to ingesting the Word for myself. Wednesdays and Sundays are great starting places but when I leave I need to continue to pick up my fork and feed myself. The Lord put it on MY plate for a reason. #wepreach

When I was growing up, we were constantly at church. Most certainly, we were there on Wednesday nights, Saturday mornings, and of course, on Sunday. Bible Study Mama wore a lot of hats back in those days. She had multiple jobs and probably just as many responsibilities at the church. She was at the front of the cheering squad when it was time for me to get my driver’s license. My ability to drive myself places would relieve some pressure off her and give me some more independence. A win-win situation if I ever saw one. Driving gave me the keys to a whole new world. One that I was pumped to be a part of. Did I mention that we were at church constantly? Well, the stars aligned one Wednesday night, and I and my homegirl found ourselves with an opportunity that we could not turn down. We ditched Wednesday night Bible study to go hang with a couple of my friends. Did I know it was a bad idea? Absolutely. Did I do it anyway? Of course! Long story, less long, we ended up narrowly avoiding a car accident. And do you know where I went when the dust settled, and my heartbeat slowed down? Right back to church. We did not try that one again. I am not saying that we have to be in church all the time or God is going to get us. Not at all. But what I am saying is that we should be wherever the Lord told us to be and be doing whatever He told us to do. He is so much bigger than the four walls of the church. We have free will. We drive our own cars, but we should be mindful that we are headed the right way. P.S. I gave ya’ll the light P.G. version of this story but trust AND believe Bible Study Mama is going to want all the details, and I’m not doing it. Okay…BYYYYE! #wepreach

Some people dread winter. It is too cold. The trees are bare. The days are shorter. The nights are longer. But I am not some people. While winter has elements that are not my favorite, I have learned to appreciate winter for what it is….a season. Which means it does not last forever. It has a set time and then we move on to the next season…and the next…and the next. While walking on the trail the other day, I realized that I could see much farther through the woods. In the spring and summer, the trees are full of bright green leaves that form a canopy. I get caught up in the beauty of being surrounded by so much life and vibrancy. I smile at the leaves blowing in the wind and jump when I hear creatures rustling through the brush. I can hear them but am unable to pinpoint their exact location because there is so much foliage to hide under. But in the winter…all of that is gone. I can see people walking on trails that are usually hidden behind the leaves. I discover new aspects of a road that I have traveled frequently. And there is such beauty in seeing the new. When all the bright and vibrant parts are gone, I discover what was hiding under the foliage. It is true in my nature walks and especially true in my spiritual walk. When I see what hides underneath, I have a better opportunity to address it. It has been there the whole time, but I was distracted. I can also new trails that I might want to explore when everything is stripped away. It is an opportunity to reset and consider taking paths that I was unaware of. I am so grateful for my winter. It is positioning me for my next season. #wepreach

For most of my life, I have considered myself a person with a low pain tolerance. I mean, most people do not like pain, but I avoided the possibility of physical pain like the plague. Get a shot? Who me???? No way. I was all for being a nurse just like my mom until she talked about giving and receiving shots in school. I crossed that off my list and moved on to other options. I was not willingly signing up for pain. As I got older, I stopped wiggling and whining when I had to receive a shot. I took them with no complaints and was able to get through it without my mom holding my hand (or holding me down). I was mature. I could handle the tiny pinches with no problem. That is until I was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes right around my 30th birthday. I mean, I heard what the doctor said, but there was no way that I could personally stick myself with a needle daily to check my blood sugar. Just wasn’t happening. Who would hurt themselves daily just to get a reading on a machine? I was not built for that kind of pain. My grandma had an intervention with me. She hooked me up with the smallest lancet that would prick me and make the process much more tolerable. And I was off to the races. After years of touting my low pain tolerance and declaring what I could not take, I was experiencing a shift in how I handled physical pain. Getting a tattoo HURT… (I wrote a whole blog about it) but I did not say a mumbling word. I could take pain now. So, when my body was in physical pain, like can’t sleep at night pain, I decided to ignore it. I thought it was just a one-time thing. Or maybe, I just was not being tough enough. I needed to stop being a baby, take an Aleve, and shake it off. I had convinced myself that all was well. This went on for months. While having an annual exam, my doctor asked me if I had any concerns or anything that seemed unusual. Part of me thought “maybe it is your low pain tolerance rearing its ugly head” but a bigger part of me decided to share that I was in pain. And guess what ya’ll. There was a legitimate source of my pain. In an attempt to prove how strong I was, I really ended up being in pain for much longer than was necessary, healthy, or reasonable. And I don’t think that just applies to the physical pain that I have experienced. It applies to the emotional and spiritual pain that I wrestle with as well. I am learning to give God ALL of my pain. I do not have to judge how big or small it is. I do not have to try to handle it all on my own and tough it out. I just hand it over to Him. And let the Great Physician heal it. #wepreach

I feel all of my feelings deeply. Whether it is hormones or not, my emotions make their presence known loud and clear. I have a tendency to bottle mine in until I explode. And the outburst is not pretty. And even though we all have emotions, we have vastly different ways of dealing with them. The sermon recap dives into emotions, and the proper way to navigate life with them. Sunday’s sermon was pulled from John 11:38-44. Lazarus, the one Jesus loved, had fallen sick and ultimately died. Mary and Martha sent for Jesus, before Lazarus’ death, to come and heal him. Jesus did not come then. He arrives in town 4 days after Lazarus’ death. Mary and Martha meet Jesus and tell him that if He had been there when they called, Lazarus would not have died. They are distressed. They are weeping. The crowd is weeping. Jesus asks them where they have lain Lazarus. Jesus weeps, and they make their way to Lazarus’s tomb. When they arrive at the tomb, Jesus is angry. No doubt He has heard all the naysayers in the crowd. The loud whispers about His inability to save Lazarus. The lack of understanding in His own disciples. The very real torment experienced by Mary and Martha who felt it was too late and all hope was lost. The Savior of the world was surrounded by hopeless people who believed in His power one moment and doubted it in the next. So He is angry. The Bible does not say that His anger dissipated. Or that He put on a glad face. Nope. While He was angry, Jesus got to work. And that my friends is a Word for me. Too often, I get angry with the way life is going, and my response is to stop. I throw up my hands and stay in my own little corner. I want to pout it out. Forget assignment. Forget calling. Let me have this moment to feel my feelings. And the example that Jesus gives is life changing for me. Feel your feelings AND continue to do the work. Do not ignore the feelings. Do not squish them down. Emotions are a vital part of life, and every emotion can be used for the glory of God when we respond positively. While angry, Jesus told that same crowd of naysayers to take away the stone. Martha interjected and asked Him if that was a wise idea. After all, Lazarus had been dead for four days and probably had begun to stink. Jesus reminds her that if she believed she would see the glory of God. He lifts His eyes up to heaven and thanks God for always hearing Him. He tells Lazarus to come forth, and the once dead Lazarus comes out bound in graveclothes. The Lazarus who needed Jesus desperately-whether Jesus was angry or not. Thank God Jesus did not handle His anger in the same way that I so often handle mine. We cannot allow our emotions to validate our absence in places where we are needed. Our inability to handle emotions appropriately have true consequences. Lazarus was in a life and death situation. I’m sure He would take an angry/happy/sad/goofy Jesus any day over an absent Jesus. I have a responsibility to my calling that supersedes my angriest days. If He called me to it, He has intentions for that area of my life. If He calls YOU to it, He has intentions for that area of YOUR life. My response is to go where He leads me. Make mad work for you. Allow it to push and propel you to go farther. Allow it to make you work harder. There is a lost world waiting for you to fulfill your assignment. And they do not care if you do it mad. They are waiting to be brought back to life. #wepreach

Waves of grief wash over me in the most random moments. I was looking through my Tupperware/random container cabinet to find something to place food in when I saw it. I am sure that you would love to know what “it” is. “It” is a circular container with a bright red lid. Now why would a circular container with a bright red lid stop me in my tracks and make me cry? Good question. Tomica and I fasted for 2 weeks every month in 2020. Life was life-ing, and we both knew that we needed to discipline ourselves and sit in God’s face. To be honest, we had no intention of doing it every month of 2020. We started in January as a way to hit the ground running in the new year. Then Bible Study Brother accepted his call to ministry, and we agreed that we probably needed to do it again in February to pray some more from him. In March, COVID-19 broke wide open, and I was unemployed. So, we sought his face again. By that time, we knew that prayer and fasting needed to happen every month for the rest of the year. We made a commitment, and one of our 2020 challenges was off to the races. We committed to do the Daniel fast for 7 days and no meat for the other 7 days each month. Which meant a complete overhaul of our grocery shopping and a stretching of our recipes. Lots of Google searching and tinkering in the kitchen. The world was sheltering in place. And while we were sheltered, we cooked. She would cook a recipe that she had found, and I would make one that I had found. And we would share. I would put my new concoction in the circular container with the red lid and give it to her. When she finished, she would fill it up with whatever she had made and give it to me. The last concoction that occupied the dish was some chili that I made while Tomica was in the hospital. She had not eaten the day before, and I just knew that if I made her some of my chili it would perk her right on up. I spooned the chili into the container and placed it in the refrigerator. The next morning I got the call that changed my life. The chili in the container flew out of my mind. When the dust settled, I threw the chili away but kept the container. I put it in the back of the cabinet. I put it out of my mind. Until today. You know what’s funny? I had never really studied this container before. And looking at it for real made my tears flow even faster. All around the container are red birds perched on tree branches. Like the red birds we would call out to on our walks. The red birds that reminded us of our loved ones that we had lost. This is not an accident or coincidence. I see the hand of God in the smallest things, and, to me, this is no small thing. It is a reminder to me to continue to seek God’s face. It is a reminder to continue to fill my life with nourishing things. And it is a reminder to share the nourishment with others. Tomica is gone, but not forgotten. Her memory calls to me loudly and often. And pushes me to keep living. And to keep loving. What are you filling your container with today? And who are you sharing it with? #wepreach

When I was a kid, I was an incessant fingernail biter. Bible Study Mama did not have to worry about keeping my nails trimmed to an acceptable length. NOPE! I took care of my nails all on my own. Now, let me be clear. I was not biting my nails because I did not want them to be trimmed. I bit my nails whenever I was worried. It was a calming mechanism for me. So, my little hands sported some pretty ragged looking fingernails. At the time that I was biting them, I made no correlation to my feelings. That correlation comes with age and wisdom. It was just something I did. It was just a part of how I functioned. There is a picture of me that was taken when I was about four years old. And I really love this picture. I am wearing a beautiful yellow dress. My face is slick with Vaseline. My hair had perfect parts and the cutest plaits accented with yellow barrettes. I am just adorable! But if you zoom in and pay close attention, you can see that I barely have any fingernails. I bit those things to little nubs. Life changed for me when I entered junior high school. Not that I no longer had anxiety. No, the anxiety was still there, but I became more aware. All the girls around me were painting their nails and bringing their A-game to school. And well, I did not have any fingernails. I became super self-conscious about my fingernail situation and was determined to kick my habit in the butt. And it was a hard fight. Bible Study Mama offered to buy me some bitter-tasting polish that would help me kick the habit. The taste was supposed to quickly remind me that fingers did not belong in my mouth. I thought about it but declined. After months of fighting my habit, I won. I actually had fingernails. I am writing this to remind myself that I can do hard things. Even habits that have been engrained into my life. Even those quick fixes that bring me instant relief and satisfaction. I can find healthy ways to address my anxiety. I can make better choices when I feel overwhelmed. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. And that is not a cliché. It is a true statement that I have seen play out over the course of my life. In major ways and minor ways too. And when I cast my cares on the Lord, I end up not looking ragged. #wepreach

I have been very lackadaisical about updating my progress on my 39 for 39 list. If you are new around these parts, I will clue you in on what I’m talking about.  When I turned 35, I created a list of fun activities that I wanted to complete while I was 35. It was so much fun that I continued the tradition. I unveiled my 39 for 39 list last May and then did not document my journey as I completed the activities. Well, child, I have remembered now, so I am going to do my best to keep you up to date. # 2 on my list was regularly attending church service IN PERSON. Before I made the list, I was not even attending church virtually. (Back up off me…I was struggling.) Putting this on my list was a definitive way to hold myself accountable. Listen, I was the poster child for “the struggle is real.” Which is odd because I had not ever thought I would be a person that did not regularly attend to my spiritual needs. I had ventured over to the other side. I got to experience brunch on Sundays BEFORE the church crowd. I slept in. I binged shows. I took leisurely morning baths. Even though I thoroughly enjoyed those things, I was still struggling. Because something was missing. I was feeding my body and entertaining myself but I was NOT intentional about feeding my soul. My first Sunday back to in-person church service was challenging. For several reasons. But you know what? I pushed through and getting just a little Word made me realize how malnourished I was. So, I continued to go and each time little chicken nuggets of knowledge and confirmation were waiting for me to devour. My malnourished soul was slowly being revitalized. I’m grateful the good Lord gave me grace and space to find my way back to a more consistent relationship with Him. I know that He is everywhere but the issue is that I wasn’t seeking Him actively anywhere. And now I am. I listen to podcasts. I study the Bible outside of church. And instead of running away, or avoiding Him, I make a daily effort to run to him. What a great item to cross off the list. #wepreach

As I browsed my list of 39 activities that I want to complete while I’m 39, I stumbled upon this beauty. Actually, let me back this train up. This part of the adventure started on Sunday. I had just finished a walk with Bible Study Mama. I needed to stop by Trader Joe’s and pick up some oat milk. She was more than happy to tag along. While waiting for her to pick out her produce, I saw fresh artichoke. I am a big fan of a good spinach and artichoke dip; however, I had not ever had fresh artichoke. And I certainly had not had to prepare it at home. I asked if she thought I should attempt to tackle it, and she happily cosigned my initial impulse. I put the artichokes in the cart and went about my merry way. Now listen, you may have grown up eating roasted artichoke with Sunday meals, but I did not. We ate vegetables. Just not an artichoke. First things first, I settled into a montage of “how to cook fresh artichoke” videos on YouTube. Apparently, there is a whole community of people that are passionate about these guys, and they all have variations of how to achieve the perfect delight. I settled on roasting these bad boys, and I was off and running. While I was prepping the artichokes, a random thought came to mind. Who was the first person that saw an artichoke and thought that it would be good for eating? If I walked past it growing somewhere, I might poke or prod at it, but I certainly would not be trying to see if it was edible. That question intensified when I realized just how little “meat” I got off one artichoke after it was roasted. I also wonder about the person who discovered that sunflower seeds had a little meat on the inside. I digress. Are you ready for my verdict??? My first home-roasted artichokes were delicious. A healthy alternative to some of my tried-and-true side dishes. And a new addition to my vegetable rotation. I am proof that you can teach an old dog new tricks. I am also proof that having a good old list is a great way to shake up your normal routine. What are you doing to get the most out of this life? Or are you fine with cruising through? It’s your life. But as for me and my house, we are trying new things and seeking new adventures. #wepreach

My grandma is not the stereotypical grandma. No. She is different.  Upon deeper reflection, her ability to beat to the sound of her own drum probably greatly influenced my ability to do the same. Spending summers with her was magical. We did not play Uno or Go Fish during my childhood. We played Dominoes, and she taught me how to keep score and count bones. We traveled up and down the road at lightning speed. We explored unknown places just because. She listened to my thoughts. And she told the BEST stories at bedtime. After a long day of activity, you know I could go to sleep at the drop of a hat, but I did my best to stay up to hear her bedtime stories. Her bedtime stories were next level. Who needed to hear about Cinderella or Peter Pan when my grandma could knit amazing tales about me and Bible Study Brother? She painted us in epic adventures that lasted all summer long. Of course, Bible Study Brother would ask questions and make special requests during this routine. His inquiries added their own special spice to our evening wind down. In her stories, I could be anything. In her stories, I could do anything. How I wish I had the presence of mind at 10 years old to write some parts of the stories down. I think I believed that they would stay in my brain forever. And in some respects, they have. I cannot remember the specifics of the stories. But the thread that connected throughout each story was that we were brave, and adventurous, and we could handle whatever life threw our way. I am so grateful for my grandma and her wonderful spirit. Her ability to encourage and motivate is really inspiring. (Now listen, she tells me the truth about myself…as only she can.) And on days that I feel like I am not enough, or not doing it right, I can pull on the stories that she sowed into my spirit years ago. I can be anything. I can do anything. I am brave. I am adventurous. And with the help of the Lord, I can handle whatever life throws my way. What stories are you telling? #wepreach

I like routine. I like order. Slowly, but surely, my schedule is filling back up. I have so many responsibilities that I manage. I know that life has a tendency to present obstacles, so I put some padding in my schedule. I wake up earlier on some days to squeeze it all in. But even with that padding…even with the shuffling…I cannot anticipate every shake-up. Neither could Paul. I have dawdled long enough. Let me dig into the sermon recap. Sunday’s sermon finds us back in Acts 20:7-12. Last Sunday, we learned of Eutychus. He went to hear Paul preaching. Eutychus was sitting in the window and at some point fell asleep and fell three stories down to his death. Last week sermon’s focused on the plight of Eutychus. This Sunday’s focus shifts to Paul’s response to this unusual interruption. Paul was walking in purpose before Eutychus fell from the window. He was in Troas on assignment. He had plans to leave the next day. With that in mind, he preached late into the midnight hour. As day moved to night, lamps were lit throughout the upper room. Paul continued to preach. He was on a mission. He was fulfilling his purpose. And then…well Eutychus’s fall made Paul hit pause. Not on his assignment. Not on his purpose. He hit pause on his preaching point and joined those who had gone down three floors to check on Eutychus. Eutychus’s lifeless body had already been picked up by someone else. Likely someone who had been in the upper room listening to Paul’s preaching. Paul fell on Eutychus, embraced him, and then addressed the crowd. Not Eutychus. The crowd. He told them that there was life in him. And Eutychus came back to life. While Paul’s preaching point in the upper room had been put on pause, his purpose and his assignment continued to play out in real life. His plans had been altered but his purpose had not. How do you respond when life puts your plans on pause? A crowd of believers surrounded Eutychus. A crowd that had been listening to Paul’s message yet nothing changed for Eutychus until Paul arrived. Paul responded to the pause by continuing in purpose. His obedience literally brought life to a dead situation. Who is waiting for you to keep pushing through your pause? Who is waiting for you to be life in their dead situation? I encourage you to make deposits in the lives of others when your plans go awry. There is a whole world waiting for you. #wepreach

I took a walk yesterday. Actually, Bible Study Mama and I took a walk yesterday. Walking has been our thing for years. Specifically, Saturday morning walks. For years, Bible Study Mama, Tomica, and I would walk on Saturday mornings. You probably couldn’t tell that by looking at us…then or now…but it’s true. We would roll out of bed on Saturday mornings and meet up by the river to get our exercise on. In later years, more cousins joined us. It was a tradition. A jump start to the weekend and a promise to ourselves to do better and try harder to push away from the plate next week. It was a time to catch up and get some fresh air. Unless it was extremely cold or hot, we met, and we walked. When Tomica died, I was not sure if I would ever be able to walk by the river again. For some, that is extreme, but it is my truth. Our lives were so enmeshed. I was having THE hardest time with everyday functions. Walk by the river???? Get out of here! And then three weeks after Tomica’s funeral, Bible Study Mama, Ari, and I met up at the river on a Saturday morning and went for a walk. We had decided that life was for the living, and we were going to do our best to live. While on our walk, we saw the FATTEST red bird in the history of red birds sitting in a tree. We looked at it. It looked back at us. Just to be clear… seeing red birds was nothing new to us on our Saturday morning walks. While it wasn’t something that occurred each time, it happened often enough for us to create a tradition. Anytime we saw a red bird, we would say it was my great-grandmother checking on us. We would holler out “Hi Mama Patra.” And then everyone would try to spot the bird that person saw. If there was more than one, we would pick another family member that had passed on to shout out in addition. So when we saw that big bird sitting in the tree that day, we all said “Hey Tomica” and finished our walk. That was our last walk for the year. Not because we saw the Tomica bird. Nope. We stopped walking because my Aunt Linda died that same afternoon. And then my Uncle Chauncey died the night of my Aunt Linda’s funeral. We stopped walking because we did not have strength in our legs. Grief had me in a choke hold and would not let me go. For over a year, I avoided the river. You could not make me believe that I would ever have the urge to walk. Yesterday was overcast. Gray. A little cool. And absolutely beautiful. Other people may not have thought so, but it was to me. The birds were swooping over the river. A light fog was dancing through the sky. The wind whipped on our faces going and pushed us on our backs on the return. We cut 6 minutes off our usual walking time. My lungs were burning. Sweat poured off my face. My legs asked, “What are we doing girl?!?”. My heart asked the same question because yesterday marked the 2 year anniversary of Tomica’s death/transition. And yet, somehow, I was able to walk. Let me clear up any confusion. The “somehow” for me is my faith in Jesus Christ. You know that poem “Footsteps” or “Footprints”? The one with the person that is looking at their footprints in the sand with their walk with the Lord. Sometimes there are 2 sets of footprints in the sand. At other times, there is only 1 set of footprints in the sand. The person feels like God abandoned them at those times. God clears up the confusion. He lets it be known that at the times there are only one set of footprints it means that God was carrying the person. They were never alone. God took care of the walk for them. And He took care of the walk for me until I had strength in my legs again. I took a walk yesterday. I scrolled through old videos and pictures. I remembered my cousin. I laughed. I cried. I talked to family and friends. I prayed. And I know that I did not take that walk alone. Many people that loved and cherished my cousin went on a walk yesterday too. If you don’t have strength in your legs just yet, know that the Lord will carry you. And I am rooting for everyone to be able to walk. #wepreach

Listen, I am in a struggle to get myself together over here. My mind is jumbled with various thoughts. It is not that I do not have anything to say. I have tons to say, but I am having difficulty settling. I am having a hard time focusing and making my point get straight to the point. I typed sentences and erased them several times because they did not feel right. They just were not right for this moment. I got FRUSTATED. Typed some more and erased it all again. Made notes for future blogs and still could not find the right words for this blog. I wanted to quit, but I knew I had words. Just not the right words. Typically when I get this frustrated, I walk away. And when I say “walk away,” I mean not revisiting the subject ever again. When I say “not revisiting the subject ever again,” I mean cut ties with this whole blogging thing. Who needs it??? Well, clearly I do. And someone else does as well, or the good Lord wouldn’t be asking me to do it. Instead of throwing my laptop across the room or writing an easier blog on my list, I sat in my uncomfortableness. Instead of pretending that all was well, I literally closed my eyes, put my hand on my heart, took some deep breaths, and asked the Lord what I was supposed to do. Now nothing mystical or spooky happened. I did not hear any whispers or bells ringing. No goosebumps appeared on my flesh. No inspirational text from a friend came right at that moment. But the Lord met my need. Instead of focusing on my anxiety, I focused on Him. Deep inhale. Deep exhale. Until I was calm. Until I was centered. Such a simple thing. But it has been so underutilized in my life. Ya’ll I love to make a good plan. And when the plan gets thrown off, watch out. I am bound and determined to get it back on track. But remember, I’m leaning into obedience and doing what He told me to do. And today, He told me to breathe.  I am so glad that I did. How can I keep you guys in the loop on my journey with obedience, if I do not tell you about my struggles with obedience? Watching someone’s evolution in real-time makes the victories that much sweeter. What are you struggling with today? How can I pray or encourage you on your journey to better? If you encounter moments that make you anxious today, I encourage you to stop (even when you are telling yourself that you do not have time to stop because things need to be done…lol) and breathe. Settle in and let the uncomfortable feeling subside. I am a witness that God will meet your need. #wepreach

Can I be honest with you? (Even if you just said no, I’m not going to stop. That was the epitome of a rhetorical question.) I’m weird. If this is your first time reading this blog, you might be thinking “how so?”. If you have been around for a while, you probably picked up that gem long ago. I think differently, I process things differently, and I just AM different in lots of ways. While we are now being encouraged to celebrate differences, it is not always a second nature thing for us. Bible Study Cousin spent the early years of my adult friendship with her telling me how weird I was. She did not stop hanging with me. She just wanted me to know her opinion and observations. That girl spoke her mind in season and out of season. Whether you asked her or not. Whether you wanted to know or not. And though I was weird, she clearly appreciated the attributes that made me “me.” The perfect jumble of quirks. She is not the only person that I have been in a close relationship with that used the same descriptive word. I think it is the easiest way to describe me without having to piece apart what that really means. No one has ever told me to “stop being weird.” Or “I do not want to be around you because you are weird.” They just want to acknowledge the fact that I am different. A close relationship with me is not for the faint of heart. Not because I am combative or mean. Not because I take up too much space or talk for too long. A close relationship with me requires me to be vulnerable and let you see me for who I really am. A girl with dreams and thoughts and processes that may not make sense to you but make perfect sense to me. Of course, I have friends and family that love and support me. And I am grateful for them all. But on days like today, I REALLY miss my cousin. She was a safe place to share my dreams and thoughts and processes. She was a good sounding board and an even better friend. She accepted me for who I was and that is hard for me to find. Do me a favor. Go hug your weird friend today. Let them know that you are grateful for every unique part of them. They probably need it. #wepreach

I can get the best insight and receive gentle reminders in the most random conversations. I was chatting with my bestie the other day. At one point the conversation drifted to uncluttering (Is that a word? If not, pretend it is.) our houses. I am the queen of holding on to things for sentimental reasons. That is the reason that I currently have 3 drawers FULL of T-shirts. Some shirts haven’t been worn in years. To be fair, some of them are too little and don’t need to be stretched beyond their capacity. Others fit but I don’t wear them. When you have that many T-shirts, it’s difficult to put them all into rotation. They sit in the bottom of the drawers and the ones on top get the most play. But it has not always been that way. When I first entered the professional working world, I worked for a travel therapy company. The biggest perk is that my assignments would be for 9 months—an entire school year. I would have the opportunity to get to really know the city and then move on to the next city. The biggest downfall was the moving part. Because moving means packing, lifting heavy boxes, and then unpacking. Bible Study Mama, Bible Study Cousin, various other volunteers, and I eventually had the move down to a science. Aunt Linda would lend me her vehicle for every move. Between her big body vehicle and my car, I had enough room for 10 huge boxes. I lived my life like it was golden during that first school year. I bought new clothes, found the most interesting odds and ends, and collected items as the year progressed. And then it was time to fit this life in these same 10 boxes. Spoiler alert: It would not all fit. I had to weed through the items that I acquired and make decisions. What needed to stay and what needed to go. I already knew my assignment in that location was not permanent. But I got comfortable. I settled in. After my first assignment, I was more focused. I still enjoyed the new city, but I remembered that I did not need to keep acquiring things just to have them. While the shopping was fun, I did not have the room to keep hauling every little thing around. Boxes are heavy! And let’s be real, the 10-box system was a HUGE stretch for me anyway. It taught me to prioritize and weed out unnecessary things. But that was over a decade ago. I have been settled in this place for longer. I have allowed myself to become attached to things that I really should release. And it’s not just my T-shirts. I am well aware that I am on this here Earth on assignment. I cannot always articulate what that assignment is; however, I know that it is much harder to complete the assignment when I am trying to drag along unnecessary items. The boxes are heavy, and it makes it much more difficult to move to my next location. So yes, a random conversation about removing clutter was a gentle reminder to me that I need to do that in many areas of my life. Not just my T-shirt drawers. What do you have stuffed in drawers that you cannot even access because other things are in the way? What are you holding on to that is making it more difficult to move to your next assignment? I know that I am not the only one in the world that needs a push. Get rid of it. You have work to do. #wepreach

Maybe three or four years ago, I started having a word for the year. It is a reminder of what I need to focus on as the year goes on. At times, I can be a bit like a squirrel and go off on tangents. Which leaves my life a little all over the place. But when I have a word…when I have a focus…it is easier to course correct. And my word for 2023…..OBEDIENCE. If you listen to the podcast even a little, you are well aware that I struggle with this. If you read one or two blogs, a thread of disobedience runs throughout them as well. I can be obstinate, hardheaded, and totally sure of all the wrong things. I pick a course and want to stay in that course. Even when God is telling me no. Even when I drive past the red “Wrong Way” signs. I get determined to make the wrong ways right because…well shoot…just because. And why do I do that? I can assure you that it is not because my disobedience has enhanced my life in any way. If anything, it has caused me to crash head-on into disappointment and left me stranded on the side of the road. Vehicle destroyed, head hurting, and limping. And still walking in the wrong direction. Because I am scared. Shoot it might be the wrong way, but I am familiar with this neighborhood. I am familiar with this struggle. And doing it God’s way is unknown. Doing it His way makes me have to trust Him. Not my map anymore. It’s His and I have to go WHEREVER He wants to take me. And something tells me that His destination and mine are not in sync. But guess what? They can be. They will be. They are. My cousin reminded me that God is the architect of all creation. He challenged my inability to trust the One who holds everything in His hand. Not just some things. EVERYTHING and EVERYONE. And if I can’t trust God, how can I trust or follow anyone else…including myself? So, in 2023, when you see me, know that I am walking in obedience. Not like a pouting kid, but a child trusting that my Father absolutely knows what is best for me. I am doing what He has for me. I am doing it scared. But I am doing it. I am doing it unsure. But I am doing it. On the days I just do not want to…..I am doing it. My way has not worked. I am trusting that His way will. What’s your word for 2023? How do you remain focused? While you work out your personal word, you can read about my journey in obedience. I am quite sure it will be interesting. #wepreach

2023 rolled into Little Rock with warmer temps and sunny skies. The cold of the last week has been swept away, and the first Sunday of the year came in like a champ. Vibrant and full of life. Kind of a perfect segue into our first sermon recap of the year. I will not keep you waiting. Let’s dive right in. Acts 20:7-12 recounts an alarming event that happens during a church service. A young man named Eutychus sits in a window as Paul is preaching. And I have to commend him for coming to hear this preaching. Mostly because I am not a night owl and scripture says that Paul was still preaching at midnight. The room has been lit by a multitude of lamps. The atmosphere has been set and preaching is going forth. Funny thing though…my boy Eutychus is tired. He starts to doze off. Eventually, he loses his fight with sleep and goes from dozing to full-on sleep. And then…well…he falls out of that window on the third floor and dies. What a way to shake up a service. Of course, that was not Eutychus’s intent. He was just tired. Like many of the people that fill the pews in church on Sunday mornings. We are present physically but fighting a spiritual drowsiness. Well, some of us are no longer fighting that drowsiness. We are moments away from full-on spiritual sleep and death. Just like Eutychus. So what do we do? You know I am all about practical solutions and get excited when I get some real-world application tips. First things first. Be honest when you are exhausted. Tell somebody. Do not be too holy or too saved to admit that you are worn out. Which can be easier said than done. Saying the words out loud does not mean that you love Jesus less. It is an acknowledgment that you need to be refreshed and revived. It is a chance to reach out for help and receive some of the love and attention that you likely give all the time.  It’s also an opportunity to find out that you are not alone. Christians are called to be the hands and feet of Jesus, and that means we are a people of action. If you are in a community of believers that are actively involved in carrying out His commands, chances are that you are not the only one who feels that way at times. Say something. No one wants you to go into a spiritual sleep and certainly, no one wants you to experience spiritual death. Or maybe, just maybe, you have already crossed over into a spiritual death. Physically, you look great—a new dress, killer heels, and not a hair out of place. I mean, praise the Lord that you come to church every Sunday. That’s something right??? Perfect marks for attendance but just dead on the inside. You can’t ask for help because dead people don’t talk. You may not even be aware that you have passed away. Let’s do a pulse check. Can you name 1 principle from a sermon that you have applied in your life? I’m not talking about perfection. I mean just 1 principle that you have been intentional about putting into practice. We are supposed to be continually changing and evolving. We can get too familiar with God’s goodness and grace towards us and start to doze. You may not be dead, but it is so easy to go from dozing to full-on sleep and then death. Eutychus’s story does not end when he hits the ground and dies. Paul goes downstairs, falls on Eutychus, and embraces him. He meets Eutychus in his dead situation and declares that life is in him. And Eutychus comes back to life. How did that pulse check go for you? Are you dozing? Are you fast asleep? Have you quietly passed away while sitting in the pew? I’ve got great news for you. THERE IS LIFE IN YOU. God created you with a specific purpose in mind. I don’t know what it is. But He does. And I am encouraging you to come back to life. Reach out for help if you need it. But also be willing to help others that you notice dozing. Speak life into dead situations. Somebody is waiting for your voice to help them come back to life. #wepreach

Social media is a mixed bag. On any given day, my timeline is flooded with a variety of posts. Mostly positive things and then I will stumble on something that is absolutely outrageous. At that point, I can choose to scroll past it or click and dive deeper. Honestly, it just reflects life. We take the good with the bad…the happy with the sad. While doing an early morning scroll on social media, I stumbled across a post that was advertising something that seemed too good to be true. They posted a number and said that you could call it to hear pep talks from kindergarteners. Well, I don’t know about you but hearing motivation from a kid just warms my heart. Those little voices are so cute and uplifting. I decided to call the number and see if this was really true. Ya’ll…it is! West Side Elementary School in Healdsburg, California started this project in February 2022. It is an automated system and you can choose the type of encouragement that you are seeking. These messages are priceless and put a big smile on my face as I started my day. So now, I am passing these smiles on to you! In a world that seems increasingly cruel, I am grateful for people that go out of their way to brighten up others’ days. #wepreach

You may not be aware of this, but I am a HUGE book lover. I devoured books when I was a kid. And I must say that my mom did her part to help my love for books grow. Maybe my mom took us to the library all the time to help her pockets out. Because as soon as I finished a book, I wanted another one. And a book habit is not cheap. Whatever the reason, my appreciation for books translated into a real love for the library and librarians. The downtown library was not shiny and new when I was a kid. It was showing its age. And the kid section was upstairs. And the ride upstairs in the elevator was…an adventure. But it was a trek that I gladly took because I knew that there were tons of treasures waiting for me. I would browse and find the books that seemed like they wanted to come home with me. I would judge books by their covers. I would choose books based on the librarian’s recommendations. I was in my zone. My commitment to libraries did not leave me when I became an adult. I would find the closest library in every city that I lived in and become a card-carrying member. Even though I was far from home, my connection to the library helped me be centered. And to be honest, it was cheaper and better for my packing to not have so many books to lug from place to place. As soon as I moved back to Little Rock, I renewed my library card. I would make a weekly or biweekly pilgrimage to check out 3…or 4…or 5 books. Listen, it doesn’t take me long to read a book. It was how I would unwind after a long day of talking and helping kids. My “me” time. As life got busier, I was doing well if I was able to read one book a month. And I stopped reading all together when I started writing the blog. I just didn’t have the time. Within the last year, I reunited with checking out books again. I must say that my local branch is superb. I would reserve books that I wanted to read on the app and be notified by email when they were ready for pickup. I was able to walk right to the reserved shelf and pick up the books with my name on them and check them out. Easy peasy. If I need something notarized, my branch handles that as well. Free of charge. I was getting a paper notarized at my branch last week. While the man was stamping and signing, my eyes wandered, and looked at the sheets of paper with various information on the table. And I saw an application to loan out power tools. As soon as he finished, I asked if they had a hammer drill that I could check out. He quickly answered yes, and I left the branch that day with my notarized paper and a hammer drill to use to finish installing my security camera. The library wins again. So on today, I must express my gratitude for the libraries of the world. They are a great resource that is available to the community but a resource that is often overlooked. I wonder why I did not become a librarian. I guess that just was not my path. Anyways, I highly recommend checking out your local library. Who knows what treasures you will find there? #wepreach

You would think that a blog about the many ways that I love my Mama would be easy to write. Not so much this year. And it’s not because I don’t have new reasons to love and appreciate her. No, that’s not it. I think it’s because I do not feel that I have words to adequately describe how much she means to me.  So, I found myself typing and erasing and typing and erasing. But I have settled myself. And I am going to try my darndest to get this out of me. I love my mom like a fat kid loves cake. And I am a fat kid. And I love cake. So there’s that. She is the best cake that a fat kid could ever have. Whatever cake image that brings to mind for you…yup that image…she is that cake. She is THE sweetest person I know. So actually, this cake imagery is working out fabulously. Now, let’s not get it twisted. She can turn it on a dime and go into mama bear mode. And you DO NOT want to meet that version of her. Let’s go back to the cake. Anyone that meets her leaves feeling brighter and has a bit of a sugar rush from the interaction. I guess that’s how I wound up with diabetes….kmsl! All sweet…all the time. I am grateful that she continues to provide such a great example for me. She shows me how to be a light in an increasingly dark world. And although I know for sure that is not always easy for her, she makes it look easy. Every time she sacrifices. Every time she says “yes” when it would be so much simpler to say “no.” Every time she shares more of her triumphs. Every time she shares one of her defeats. She just makes my life sweeter. And I am oh so grateful for my mama! #wepreach

I am a girl that wants what she wants…exactly when she wants it. Patience and waiting have not been my strong suits. So, when I decided that I wanted a sibling, I wanted what I wanted…and I wanted it right then. To be fair, I had no clue about the birds and the bees. No concept of a gestational period. I just knew that I had to make it plain to my mom that I was not meant to be an only child. Well, I didn’t have to wait too long. Nine months after my mom and stepdad got married, my brother burst onto the scene. The word “burst” is very appropriate to describe the first time I laid eyes on the sibling I so desperately wanted. I walked into that hospital room just itching to get my hands on this little baby. My cute baby brother was in the middle of a diaper change as I pranced across the room. They opened his diaper and a stream of yellow liquid burst into the air. I screamed and jumped back. Not exactly the cute little baby I was expecting. I was cautious but I decided that we could keep him. Our introduction was just a preview of what lay in store for our relationship. Bible Study Brother was a bundle of energy as a kid. A real go-getter. I was forced to climb under countless department store clothing racks to get that rambunctious kid. Every store outing was an opportunity for him to see how fast and far his little legs would carry him. Bible Study Mama would remind me that I wanted him, and I needed to get him. And I would go get him. He was mine. Over time, our relationship has changed and grown. It has shifted and evolved. I have grown to see that he is not really all mine. He belongs to God and the good Lord has loaned him to me. For the good. For the bad. For the happy. For the sad. Not only has our relationship grown, but so has he. He is a husband. A creative. A minister. He is my friend. November has been reserved as a month of thankfulness on this blog. And this first thankfulness blog is dedicated to Bible Study Brother. Brother, I pray that God gives you long life and that you get the opportunity to live it to the full. You are an answered prayer, and I am forever grateful. #wepreach

In case you had not noticed, I have been in a tug-of-war with consistency lately. I have the BEST intentions of posting sermon recaps every week. I attend church service, and the sermon hits home every time. Then I get in my car, make it home, and ignore the pull to recap the sermon for the blog. I spend time with my mom or complete some household project that has been on my to-do list. I get caught up in bingeing ANY TV series that has rave reviews. Or I get busy in the kitchen and meal prep. Basically, I choose ANYTHING except for sitting down and wrestling with the sermon that I heard on that day. But this past Sunday’s sermon stopped me. This past Sunday my pastor challenged us all with one important question: Does your growth match your grace? Sunday’s sermon comes from two different passages of scripture, Luke 10:38-42 and John 12:1-8. Both passages give us peeks into the lives of Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. And examining both passages gives us an opportunity to see growth in the lives of these believers. In Luke, we find Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus while Martha is busy preparing food for Jesus and the crowd that follows Him. Oh Martha. I empathize with her so much. Being a good host requires care and preparation. And certainly can lead to a sense of being overwhelmed when there is a house full of guests and no one to help. Martha does not keep her frustration hidden. She takes her concerns straight to Jesus and asks him if he cares that Mary has left her to do all the work alone. And Jesus tells Martha that she is concerned about the wrong thing. He tells her that Mary is where she needs to be. When we flip over to John 12:1-8, we find Jesus and the disciples back at the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Martha is where she was in the first passage. She has prepared a delicious supper and served it. And Mary…well, she is still at the feet of Jesus. So you may wonder, where is the growth and what is the difference? We’ll start with Martha. You remember how Jesus corrected Martha in the first passage? The growth for Martha is that she continues to serve and serve with the right attitude. Clearly, she was frustrated in the first passage. And how easy would it have been for her to decide that her service was not valued. The circumstances around Martha have not changed. Jesus is still visiting and bringing a crowd with Him; however, Martha has accepted her role and continues to serve. Let’s get back to Mary. We have left her sitting at the feet of Jesus long enough. In the first passage, we learn that Mary is in the right place at the right time. The second passage finds Mary amping things up. While she continues to sit at the feet of Jesus, she takes a costly oil and anoints his feet, and wipes his feet with her hair. The growth for Mary is that she wanted to ensure that Jesus knew how much she loved Him. And her love required an intentional gift and a costly sacrifice. The fragrance of her sacrifice filled the house. The circumstances around Mary have not changed. Jesus is still visiting and bringing a crowd with Him; however, Mary’s level of worship and sacrifice has greatly increased. Does your growth match your grace? If we got glimpses of two similar situations in two different seasons of your life, would we be able to see the growth? Would you be able to see your own growth? Most importantly, would God be able to see the growth? When I ignore the prompting to do sermon recaps, what does that say about my level of growth? Child, these blogs always hit me the hardest. And even when I’m talking to ya’ll, I am always first talking to myself. I want my growth to match my grace. Circumstances have not changed around here but I want my level of service, worship, and sacrifice to increase. Just think about it. Does your growth match your grace? #wepreach

Any Christians in the building? Any blood-bought believers? Just doing a roll call to see who is tuning in.  Each time that I attend church, I am looking to come away with tidbits that will not only challenge me but also change me. The funny thing about change is that it requires work. Which is an action word. Which means each week I need to be doing something to continue to grow and change. Sunday’s sermon provided a challenge that every Christian should be deeply invested in. Want to know what it was? I’ll take that as a yes since you’re still reading. Acts 3:1-10 captures a deeply moving encounter. A lame man is outside the gates of the temple. He’s sitting outside of the church ya’ll. Which is a pretty ingenious move. Surely the good church folks will take pity and give him some spare change. Peter and John are on their way to church. Minding their business. Maybe talking about who is leading the praise team that day. They might even be talking about what to eat after temple. The point is that they are going about business as usual. The man spots them and asks them for help. Now, this is the part where Peter and John were supposed to drop their change in his cup and carry on to church. This is the part where they were supposed to go about business as usual. Instead, it becomes the part that is life-changing. Although Peter and John are going about business as usual, their business is focused. Their aim is sure. They are committed to spreading the gospel and, for them, anytime is a great time to offer the gift of salvation. Peter looks into the lame man’s eyes and makes a declaration. Peter lets him know that he can’t give him money, but he can offer him the gift of Jesus. Now, Peter doesn’t just preach Jesus. He holds out his hand and lifts the man up. Years of being lame are no more. The man received strength in his feet and ankles. He leaps up and goes with Peter and John into the temple. He goes in praising God. Peter and John brought someone into the family of Christ while going about their business. Who did you bring with you? Evangelism….the spreading of the gospel…is one of the cornerstones of our faith. As a teenager, I was on fire for Jesus. I regularly invited my friends that did not attend church to come to church with me. Call me a junior missionary. Baby, I wanted the world to know about my Savior. No one left behind. (Especially because I was reading the “Left Behind” series and I didn’t want to have folks screaming that I didn’t tell them….child that’s another story for another day.) When we have good news, we should want to share it with everyone. As Christians, we are broken and imperfect people in need of a perfect Savior. Are you a Christian? A blood-bought believer? Is Jesus not only your Savior but your Lord? If you answered yes, tell me…who did you bring with you? Not just with lip service and speaking in tongues. It’s about being invested in others’ lives. Our business as usual should have an aim and a focus. We have to continually lift Jesus up. Not ourselves. We cannot fix broken people (because let’s face it…we’re hot messes ourselves), but we can direct them to the Savior that is healing us. Sunday’s sermon challenged me, and it should challenge you as well. We can’t continue to step over wounded people on our way to church. We cannot continue to ignore the lame people we encounter daily. Mission work is not just about going to foreign countries. It starts right where you are. In your community. In your neighborhood. On your street. In your house. Look around this week. Look around today. Be determined to bring someone with you. #wepreach

I can be a creature of habit. Certainly not with everything. But I do some things the same way because…well that is the way that I have always done them. I close the blinds in my windows in the same order every night. Now that I think about it, I open them in the same order as well. A force of habit that has embedded itself into my routines without much thought. And guess what. There is nothing wrong with routine and order. For many of us, routines help center us. We have our morning routines and nighttime routines. We follow the same routes to work and back home. We take the same insulated cup with us on our outings. We buy the same brands of cereal. No need to switch up or try anything new, because what we do is working for us. While I am a creature of habit, I have never turned down an opportunity for a new and exciting tool. See, I am a sucker for the right advertisement. When marketing execs get together in meetings, I am the ideal consumer. Once they show me that I NEED what they are selling, I am all in. Need an example? Okay, I love fresh pineapple. While I will eat it canned, the canned version does not hold a candle to the freshly sliced version. But I am not a fan of the prickly outside of the pineapple. I get discouraged when thinking about cutting away the outside and removing the core. So messy. So much work. In step the marketing execs with a pineapple corer. The answer to my problem had been in existence for years. I just had never seen it advertised. I dare say that millions of folks worldwide knew about them, but I had no clue. I was using the tools that I was familiar with. They were getting the job done. I still had the opportunity to taste the fruit that I enjoyed, but I could have saved so much time if I had been using the right tool. As a Christian, I have so many tools at my disposal. The Bible holds countless strategies and solutions that have the power to revolutionize the way that I live this life. Unfortunately, I have let my habits lock me into routines. And I waste time using tools that will work but end up costing me more time and more effort. I am in a season of a shake-up and a shake-off. I have blown the dust off the cover of my Bible. I am being more intentional in my daily talks with God. I am asking for specific guidance each time an issue comes my way. I am waiting…even when I feel that an answer is needed immediately. I am doing my best to use the right tools. I pray that you find the strength to do it too. #wepreach

Bible Study Mama and I were sitting in a restaurant waiting for our to-go order the other day. I casually offered up that I wouldn’t mind working in this particular establishment if I needed a job in the food industry. The place was clean. There was not a mad rush of people waiting in line to place an order. And there were enough customers to keep the business thriving. Right up my alley. Bible Study Mama asked if I had ever worked in the food industry. I had to refresh her memory. We’re going back in time to 2005. I was a new college graduate in need of a J-O-B. The Bachelor’s degree was nice to have but I still had to complete graduate school. Courses were a full 2 year commit with no summers off. My rent and car note didn’t care about a degree. I needed a job that would work with my school schedule. I looked and searched. I searched and looked. I applied in multiple places and finally got a call back….from McDonald’s. Now listen….I had a little bit of sense about me. I applied at a McDonald’s that wasn’t overly busy. I wanted a location that would not be too overwhelming with everything else that I had going on. And baby, I’m glad I made that choice because the first day on the job was intense. My co-workers were patient with me but I was fumbling things left and right. I knew with time that things would get easier but I was TIRED at the end of my first shift. I dragged out of there and prepared myself for another day. Two weeks into my job, I received a surprise phone call. I was offered a graduate assistant position that would cover my rent and my car note. Since the job was on campus, they were happy to work with my shifting class schedule each semester. My days at McDonald’s were over. While my time at McDonald’s was short, it was pivotal. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I had accomplished one goal but had a ways to go before I completed the other. And absolutely no idea how it would all turn out. I committed to doing all that I could and letting God work out the rest. And He did. I needed that reminder of how God has ALWAYS provided for me. He may not come when I want Him, but He’s always on time. He’ll do the same for you. #wepreach

The problem with writing a blog every day is that sometimes I forget what I have already written about. The great thing about writing a blog every day is that if I have forgotten, ya’ll have too. So, I can’t lose…lol. Bible Study on Wednesday night left me thinking about my prayer life and ways to improve it. A regular prayer life is crucial in the life of a Christian. It’s an opportunity to communicate with the God who loves me. It’s my chance to communicate with the God who saved me. But I frequently miss out on my opportunities to tap in. The sad part about it is that prayers don’t have to be long to be powerful. I was complaining about a person during one of my last conversations with Tomica. (Now if I had known that would be the last time, our conversation would have been WAY different. But back to this story.) I told her to just pray for me. She said something like, “Lord, help her.” Then she said, “see it don’t take all them extra words sometimes. He gets the point.” And that has really stuck with me. I have been praying those kinds of prayers lately. Short phrases. Not long-winded eloquent prayers that sound good to everyone else. I’m talking about prayers that get right to the heart of the matter. “I need you right now.” “Help me get through this.” “I can’t do this without you.” And can I tell you something? They have been working for me. While short prayers can get the job done, I am well aware that my prayer life definitely needs to be revamped. Part of having a healthy relationship is having open lines of communication. It is not all about me reaching out when life gets bumpy. I need to get back in the groove of having longer talks with God. Pouring my heart out and then waiting for His response. I need that regular back and forth. I need that connection. The good news is that I recognize the need and I am working to change it. Your homegirl has a plan. I’ll keep you posted. #wepreach

Do regular, ordinary people still take time out to deep clean their homes? I’m talking about getting on your hands and knees and scrubbing baseboards. I mean wiping down walls and everything. One of my favorite activities as a kid was sweeping. I took great pride in sweeping the kitchen after breakfast as a five-year-old. Now in hindsight, I’m sure I didn’t do that great of a job. But nobody told me to stop. They let me go right on ahead with my task. I was envious of adults’ sweeping abilities. They could cut that broom into corners much more smoothly than I could. And their speed! Man! They could finish sweeping so quickly. I was still clumsy and had not figured out how to angle the broom to get into those corners. I did not stop cleaning. I just studied their moves and practiced. I wanted to get better. I wish I carried that love of cleaning into my present-day situation. Now don’t get me wrong. I do not like a nasty house. There is a place for everything, and everything has its place. But the deep cleaning…the scrubbing of the baseboards…that has been sorely neglected around here. While it is true of the home that I reside in, it is also true of my spiritual life. I have been very clumsy lately and not angling into the corners. I let dust and spider webs collect. Sitting every day and writing about my faith places me right back in the mindset of five-year-old me. Not doing the best job. But also not stopping. I’m going right on ahead with my task. This forces me to get into the corners of my faith walk and examine the dirt and dust that I find there. It also helps me get rid of the trash thoughts that I let collect over time. It forces me to study my Bible more. It helps me to practice the faith that has carried me thus far. It helps me get better. Have you taken time out to deep clean your home? Both of them…the one you live in and the one that lives in you. It might be time to get your cleaning supplies together and get started. #wepreach

Last Wednesday at church was dedicated to mental health. We could choose from classes about grief, Young Adult issues, family trauma, etc. You already know I strolled straight into grief class. It is the elephant in the room for me. It takes up so much room. It’s bigger than me. It’s the hot-button issue in my life. I was late because I got caught by the train close to my house. So, I missed the opportunity to speak the name of the person or persons that I was grieving. Honestly, that is probably for the best for the class. My list isn’t short and who knows if I would have started wailing. (See how the Lord works things out…anyways back to my story.) I sat in the back and put my listening ears on. The information was good. Really good. And necessary for me. But one thing stood out the most. Do you want to know what it was? If you are still reading by this point, I am sure that you want me to spit out. She talked about how we always tell our loved ones to rest in peace. Then she said, that if you really think about it, they are already resting in peace. The people left behind…the ones grieving…are really the people that need to rest in peace. We need to rest in peace that only God can provide. I don’t know how many nights of sleep I have missed in the last year and a half. I can’t count the number of times my anxiety has gone through the roof. I get triggered by so many things. Special days or even just another day. A missed phone call or receiving a call from a family member who doesn’t typically call me. A smell. A picture. A song. And that’s not peace. Did I walk away from the class completely healed and tap dancing? No, but it changed my perspective. It helped center me and give me something positive to focus on. Prayer is important. So is deep breathing and regular exercise. So is actively maintaining regular communication with others. You know…all the things that don’t feel like rest. But when I regularly engage in these things, I do feel more peace. My grief is big, but my God is bigger. I’m not talking about what I have heard. I’m talking about what I’m walking out right now. I’m talking about making the conscious choice everyday to trust God with all the broken pieces. I will let ya’ll know when I get to rest in that peace. #wepreach

Cats are peculiar. Yes, I am generalizing and advocating the stereotype. I did not grow up wanting to be a cat owner. My childhood dream was to have a dog. I was a teenager before that dream became a reality. And I loved my dog. Queen lived up to her name. She was regal and fiercely protective of me. We got along well. But cats….nah. I could not see myself being a cat owner. Fast forward twenty years, and here I sit typing while this weird guy looks on. Fitz, my cat, has given me a crash course in the life of a cat owner. He enjoys windowsills tremendously. Napping is an art form that he has mastered. Food has to be distributed at around the same time every day or he gets testy. And then there are his nails. When allowed to grow long enough, they are needle-sharp. Sure, that helps him in the wild. But he is not in the wild. He lives in this house with me. And nail clipping is a cat owner’s responsibility that I had not ever considered. Clipping his nails was much easier when he was a kitten. They were so tiny and so was he. I could bundle him up and get the job done lickety-split. Well, all that napping and regular food distribution have helped him grow. Tiny is a thing of the past. This means nail clipping has gotten more complex. He does not like it and neither do I. He will let me play with his paws all day long with no complaint. But if the nail clippers are in my hand, our interaction gets more…how should I say this…interesting. Cats are not the only peculiar creatures roaming around. Deuteronomy 14:2 says that the Lord has chosen us to be a peculiar people. And I fit that description perfectly. When I was young in the faith, I would accept the embrace of older believers that just wanted to clip the tips of some of my sharper qualities. You know…the qualities that had the potential to harm someone else. Those qualities helped me stay safe in the wild, but I was no longer in the wild. I was safely in the Father’s house. Maybe I got too comfortable or complacent. I started to sleep on the things that God called me to do. My nails got longer. Needle sharp actually. And many of the qualities that had previously been clipped away, started to create potential to harm other believers. While I allowed family close to me, if they started to challenge me to clip away my sharp edges….our interaction got….interesting. Maybe you are peculiar like me, and my crazy cat, and have qualities that need refining. While neither of us likes the process of a good trimming, it’s necessary. Our interactions with others in the body of Christ have the potential to scratch them up in a space that is supposed to be safe. We may not do it intentionally, but it stings whether it was intentional or accidental. Look inside. Is it time for a trim? #wepreach

And He entered the synagogue again, and a man was there who had a withered hand. So they watched Him closely, whether He would heal him on the Sabbath, so that they might accuse Him. And He said to the man who had the withered hand, “Step forward.” Then He said to them, “Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or evil, to save life or to kill?” But they kept silent. And when He had looked around at them with anger, being grieved by the hardness of their hearts, He said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” And he stretched it out, and his hand was restored as whole as the other. Mark 3:1-5 Happy Monday good people! It’s another day’s journey, and on today, I can say I’m glad about it. I got some good sleep, but most importantly, I got some good Word yesterday. If you slept in past your alarm to attend in-person worship or even missed online services, this sermon recap may be just the thing that you need to get your week off to a great start. Even if you attended worship service, this Word will probably seep into your bones and give you some extra strength. Okay, enough of my chitter chat. We’re diving into the sermon recap. Sunday’s sermon was taken from Mark 3:1-5. Jesus rolled up out of bed and went on down to the church house. When He enters, He spots a man with a withered hand. The word withered lets us know that the man wasn’t born this way. His once strong hand has lost some function. His once strong hand has lost some power. We don’t make it through this life without acquiring some wounds along the way. And our wounds all look different. You may be nursing wounds from a failed relationship while someone else is tending to hurt from a failed career. The person in the next pew could be working their way through grief while their neighbor is suffering from poor physical health. One wounded church body looking to be made whole. Now, I have to commend this man. Anyone can look at him and see his weakness. His frailty is on full display. Ya’ll, I do not like being vulnerable in front of people. When I’m wounded, I like to retreat. My therapist calls it turtling. Whatever it’s called, it describes my tendencies perfectly. I hunker down with my wounds and try to work through them alone. Not this man. He goes to church with his deficiency front and center. And Jesus meets him there. The wounds that we want to hide provide the perfect platform for God to get the glory. The church folks knew all about the man’s deficiency. But they also knew about the power of Jesus. So they didn’t even look at the man, they had their eyes fixed on Jesus to see what He was going to do about the man’s affliction. Our struggles are not accidental or coincidental. They are powerful opportunities for the world to see just how Jesus will bring us through time and time again. Don’t hide your hand. Your messed up hand. The hand that doesn’t meet others’ standards. The hand that is not as strong as it used to be. That hand. Don’t hide it. Bring it to church. Worship God while your hand is still wounded. Your wounding can become your ministry. Jesus tells the man the step forward. The man complies. Jesus then tells the man to stretch out his hand. You know…the withered hand. The man responds to Jesus’s command and His hand is made whole. We are the walking wounded. The functioning wounded. The “just enough to get me by” wounded. But we don’t have to remain that way. Stay connected to Jesus. Stay connected to worship. And Jesus will meet us there every time. Don’t hide your hand. Stretch it out. #wepreach

Sometimes I go down rabbit holes. Not literally. Ya’ll know I’m too big for that. What I’m saying is that I start off doing one task and get sidetracked. I was looking at old videos and came across a video I shot in my house before the remodel. My home was fairly new when I bought it, but the previous owners and I did not have the same taste. We also did not have the same level of care. There were holes in doors -inside and outside- of the home. There was mold in the master bathroom vanity. But past all of that, I saw a vision of my dream home. After I watched the video, I looked around the home that I now sit in. It truly is unrecognizable as the same space. The video took me back to that version of myself. The version of me that knew what she wanted. The version of me that did not know how it was going to be possible. And the version of me that believed that God would make it happen. The journey was long. The carpets were DISGUSTING. My uncles and cousins came one weekend and ripped them all up for me. That left me with concrete floors. I was fine with that. I bought a rug for the living room so Sweet Baby could chill on the floor when she wanted. I painted 3 big blocks of gray on the living room wall right behind my TV. I couldn’t decide which color shade would be best. The swatches stayed on the wall for 2 years. That was alright with me too. I saw a bedroom set for the master bedroom that I HAD to have. I did not have the money together to do the paint job or floors yet, but I bought the bedroom set. It sat in a spare bedroom for years. I swept my concrete floors and minded my business. A refrigerator was calling my name. I purchased it and it sat on a wall in the dining area because it was the only place it would fit. I knew it would all come together one day, but until then I was fine with getting my food out of the dining area. When I say the journey was long, I mean the journey was long. I did not have the instant turn-key home that was Instagram-ready. But when I see that video and I am reminded of where this home has come from, I get goosebumps. That version of me believed deeply in a vision that was just in her head. No proof that it would come to pass. Just exercising faith. And today, I’m living her dream. I needed the reminder of how good God has been to me. Because I get discouraged. I have so many other dreams, and I have been thinking “Lord how is this going to even happen?” These dreams are so out of reach. These dreams seem impossible. Shoot, I know what I want. I have vision. I can see it. I can’t touch it quite yet, but I can see it. And then this old video popped up. I took it as a gentle whisper from God that the journey may be long, but it is possible. #wepreach

 Remember when Noah was on the ark with all the animals because of the great flood? The people had no clue what was really about to go down. It was just raining all the time. Eventually, they caught on that this was not just a downpour. I imagine they were quite terrified.  And felt helpless and hopeless. Now, my situation is not nearly as dire as theirs. But when I tell you I felt terrified, helpless, AND hopeless, I mean it. It was a typical evening in my home. I was probably watching a true crime show and trying to figure out who did it and why. I put a load of clothes in the washing machine, grabbed a snack, and settled back on the couch. The show was getting good. I jumped when I heard an unfamiliar sound. Where did that noise come from? I looked down the hall and then I saw it…a great flood. I ran to discover the source. It was coming from the washing machine. One of the water hoses disconnected when the rinse water was filling the machine, and water was gushing everywhere. What to do???? I jumped on top of the machine to get it to turn off. (Now look, I didn’t say I was rationale…LOL). Of course, that was not effective. I turned the knob and finally the machine powered down. But the water was EVERYWHERE! I did not have enough towels or buckets to handle it. What to do??? What to do??? I sloshed through the water to get my phone. I called Bible Study Mama and Bible Study Brother. I told them to come and bring towels….ALL THE TOWELS!!!! Thankfully they don’t live far from me, and they arrived rather quickly. With our collective towel supply and mops, we were able to sop up all the water. We were sweaty and tired, but we did it. Of course, the story does not end there. The collateral damage was taken care of, but we still needed to fix the source of the issue. You may not know this about me, but I have a mama with a can-do/will-do attitude. There is no problem too big or small for her to handle. No need to call anyone else. She saw the problem and we were going to get it handled. The hose was not easy to access. We did some climbing and bending and pinching. We did some moving and grooving and squeezing. And finally, the hose was attached properly! I had no idea my night would turn it out the way it did when I was watching my show. I was just minding my business. Taking care of chores. And a great flood came sweeping down my hallway. I wish I could say that it was the first time that my life had been shaken up. It’s not. And I know it won’t be the last. The great thing is that I knew who to call in a pinch. They came quickly when I called and stayed until the root of the problem was resolved. If I was a preacher, this would be the perfect time for me to say “ya’ll don’t know when to shout.” But I’m not so you’re safe. Any problem that you have in your life can be handled by a quick call to Jesus. The Lord doesn’t just give us spiritual sense. I know I shouted “Oh Lord” (and some other stuff) when I had no clue what to do. And He gave me direction when I could not think clearly. He solved my problem and stayed with me even after the problem was solved. The next time you are faced with a great flood call on the Lord. He ALWAYS responds and provides relief. You don’t have to feel terrified, helpless, or hopeless. #wepreach

Strong people can…and do…break. Ask me how I know. If I had a dollar for each time I heard about my strength, I would be writing this from an overwater bungalow in the Maldives. I don’t disagree with the notion that I’m strong. I know that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I mean, intellectually I know that.  But when pressed hard enough, I broke. Can I be honest? There is a shame that came with breaking. I look at other Christians who have wrestled with hard blows and did not allow it to flatten them. They seemed to be doing just fine. They worshipped, sang, and gave God the glory while I was laying in the exact spot that I broke. Of course, no one knows what goes on behind closed doors. That is the problem with being an exceptionally strong person. You can function perfectly fine in the light of day. All appears well when it really is not. You go along to get along and then retreat into yourself when given the chance. You crawl into your shell until it is time to be “on” again. With all that said, I was extremely thankful for Wednesday night service. The sermon centered around the prophet Elijah. If you don’t know his story, I can give you a Cliffs Notes version. Elijah was a big deal. Listen if you want to know a man that was on fire for God, he’s your guy. God used Elijah to perform miracles many times. I’m talking major miracles. And yet somehow, this mighty man of God found himself running in fear for his life. He sat under a juniper tree and said he wanted his life to be over. Elijah broke. See…strong people can…and do…break. The great news is that his story doesn’t end at the breaking. And neither does yours…or mine. The minister laid out some practical steps to help you and me get it together. (Ya’ll know I love a good action plan!) Like to hear it? Here it goes: Communicate your feelings. They are valid. They matter. Elijah had no problem explaining his distress. Find a friend, prayer, partner, or therapist to talk things out with. Take time to chill. Rest is vital. Elijah was on fire for the Lord and running here, there, and everywhere. Just like many strong people today. Exhaustion will leave you irritated and unable to think straight. Elijah went straight to sleep. Watch what you consume. An angel woke Elijah from his sleep to give him something to eat and drink. We all need good nourishment. That includes the food that we put into our bodies as well as the interactions that we have with others. We will not be able to regenerate if we feed our bodies junk food and allow constant negative interactions with other. Let’s get rid of the toxic stuff. Honor the process of chronology. Not all healing is immediate. Some healing takes time. After eating, Elijah went back to sleep. The angel woke him a second time and had him eat and drink again. Take it from me. Therapy has been a looooong journey. It is work. The results are not immediate, but I am glad that I am sticking with it. The healing is coming. Expect God to step in. The angel ministered to Elijah and helped him on his journey, but it was ultimately God that stepped in to speak into Elijah’s life. Not with a shout or burning bush. But with a whisper. You know…that still small voice. Give it enough time and know that God will step in. Well, I have held ya’ll long enough. The tips stopped because the preacher stopped. It was a great message, and he delivered it much better than I typed it. If you want to hear it for yourself, you can head over to St. Luke Baptist Church’s YouTube or Facebook page and look for the Wednesday night sermon. Or just take this Cliffs Notes and get to work. You can remain broken or be healed. The choice is yours. #wepreach

Do you remember how old you were when you were allowed to use the stove on your own? I vividly remember. I was 10. I had been chomping at the bit for ages. I wanted to be unleashed and let loose in the kitchen. After years of helping around with meals, I was ready to set out on my own. LET ME LOOSE PEOPLE! Of course, my grandma is the person that let me off the leash. My summers with her were epic and include some of my favorite memories. My first solo cooking adventure was a classic meal. I was making hamburgers. And she was my sous chef. And by sous chef, I mean she seasoned them, but she let me shape the patties and put them in the frying pan. I flipped the patties while they were in the pan, and she gave me guidance on knowing when a burger was done. We sailed through my first tutorial. Cooking was a breeze and a joy. I do not remember having to wash pans.  But I do remember the thrill of eating a meal that I cooked all “on my own.” The summer flew by, and Bible Study Brother and I were back home before I knew it. Only I came back with my handy new skill set. Bible Study Mama was on board with my cooking. She had several jobs and was often working. Which meant my stepdad cooked dinner. He rotated out 2 meals: tuna or breakfast for dinner. Now his tuna was not just regular tuna. Nope, he wanted to find all the possible ways that he could find to spice up our tuna experience. I remember one day he decided to mix some kiwi in. At that moment, I knew that I had to take cooking into my own hands. Hence, my excitement to come back with a new meal under my belt…lol. I do not remember making a ton of hamburgers, but I do remember my focus shifting to baking. I became a cookie/cupcake/muffin queen. There was an old recipe book in the microwave cart in our kitchen. I would find a recipe and ask for permission to cook what I found. Bible Study Mama would get me ingredients, and I would be off on my next cooking adventure. My stepdad’s experimental spirit rubbed off on me, and I begin to play around with the recipes and add my own flair. In time, I was able to whip up meals truly on my own. Cooking was fun as a kid because I could do it when I chose to do it. I was not responsible for every meal. If I did not cook, I would still have something to eat. But as I got older, cooking moved from a nice activity to a necessity. Cooking transitioned from recreation to responsibility. Yuck! The very thing I longed to do independently as a child became more of a chore. My passion for cooking as a child parallels my relationship with Christ. In the beginning, I could not get enough of Him. I was eager to sit and listen to sound doctrine. Then I reached a point where I sought out direction on my own. I picked up the Bible, studied, and asked for insight from more experienced saints. After a while, I reached a point where I felt freer. I studied on my own and listened to various teachings…mixed it up if you will. If I wasn’t studying on my own time, it was no big deal. My mama was going to make sure that I got enough spiritual food. Until one day, I realized that my relationship with Christ would fizzle to nothing if I did not take the steps necessary to keep myself fed. It is a continual process. The truth of the matter is that Christians have to continually eat the word of God to grow strong spiritually. There is no other way around it. If the Lord lets us live enough, every Christian reaches the point that they have to take a more active role in their own personal spiritual development. My prayer for you today is that you still experience joy as you prepare your spiritual meal. God has the best recipes. #wepreach

Writing has not always been a form of release for me. I grew up watching soap operas with my great-grandmother, Ma Patra. I do not really recall the actors sitting down to write heartfelt letters each time they felt something strongly. I remember them screaming. I remember them yelling and speaking passionately about whatever was on their mind. Honey, we watched our stories religiously, and I soaked it all in. By the time I moved in with my mom and stepfather, I had a million ways to express my emotions. I stepped into my new home fully locked and loaded. Now, please do not get the wrong impression of me. I did not fly off the handle all the time. I was an obedient kid. HOWEVER, I was a kid that truly felt my emotions. Like all of them. And if I was feeling them, I wanted you to feel them as well. Sincerely.  Every ounce of pain or dismay I felt would be on display. I cannot tell you how many times I ran from the room crying and flinging myself across my bed.  And sobbing…loudly. It was much. Too much. Instead of beating me until I was black and blue (because listen…I was too much), my mom sat with me and told me that there had to be a better way. She bought me a journal. She told me that anytime I felt really big emotions I should write out my feelings. Not slam my door. Not throw myself across the bed. I just needed to write it out and close the book. After a good night’s sleep, I could read what I wrote, and we would talk about how I was feeling. Did it work? I would say so. It gave me a chance to process my emotions. I had the opportunity to unleash every frustration and later reflect on the true issue. I wish I could remember the things that would send me into a tailspin. And I wish I could read the younger me journaling out my frustration. The fact that I cannot remember lets me know that those annoyances were just that…annoyances. They were not earth-shattering events by any measure. I just needed help filtering the way I reacted when things did not go my way. How do you handle the moments in life that do not go your way? You may not be like the younger version of me. You may retreat and get quiet. You might drink your way through a whole six-pack. You may eat until you are stuffed.  And I am not asking from a place of judgment. I really want to know. My go-to coping mechanism lately has been one of retreat. I sit in quiet and let life keep going by. But just like my mama told me all those years ago, there has to be a better way. And I am slowly coming back to my personal better way. I get it. Life hits us with daily annoyances and then sucker punches us with the big disturbances. Sometimes, we don’t even have the breath to scream or pitch a fit. But I also believe that we all can make a choice to keep going. We can make the decision to find a better way. My prayer for you is that you can break the destructive cycles in your life. I pray that each day you make choices that lead you down the path that God has in mind for you. I pray that you lean into God’s better way. #wepreach

Does anyone have a physical copy of the Bible anymore? Technological advances have made access to the Bible literally right at your fingertips. We can download apps that have tons of translations of the Bible. And I’m talking translations that I never knew existed. My Bible app has been my go-to for so long that I wondered what I even did with my physical copy of my Bible. I decided it was time for a treasure hunt. The hunt didn’t last long. My Bible was on my bookshelf nestled comfortably in its carrier. You read that right. Back in the olden days when we actually brought our heavy Bibles to church, I used a Bible carrier (I mean I’m sure that’s not the official name). The carrier has 2 zipper sections. The Bible fits nicely in the largest zipper section. A smaller zipper section on top reveals pockets for papers, 4 holding sections for pens, and enough room for candy or any other treat you might want to throw in. The carrier has a nice handle that made it easy to grab up and go. I was eager to open up the smaller section. Maybe I had money in there that I forgot about. Or old candy that needed to be thrown away. Drum roll please……no money…no candy.  While I did not find what I was looking for, I stumbled upon the true treasure of this hunt. My old sermon notebook! You may be wondering what a sermon notebook is. In my early 20’s, I was hungry for Jesus. I did not just want to go to church and sit and nod. I wanted to really use the sermons that I heard on Sunday to help me live a life that was pleasing to God. So I went out and purchased a cute notebook. And I began to take notes of sermons on Sunday. I’m a major nerd, so each sermon has the date, sermon title, scriptures used for reference, the name of the person preaching and the location that I heard the message. I know I’m extra. The first recorded entry is October 9, 2005. Almost 17 years ago!!!! And can I tell you something???? (In my Sweet Baby voice…lol) The message hit HOME today! In a very real way. I have notes from sermons and Bible studies until the last entry dated January 11, 2015. I literally got goosebumps thumbing through the pages and seeing notes in my own handwriting that were convicting me years after they were initially written. That lets me know that God’s word is alive. God’s word is timeless. And it also lets me know that every pastor I have had has been preaching fire. From Georgia to Texas and right back home in Arkansas. It also gave me a new direction for my personal Bible study and blog posts. Ya’ll, I’m going back in time. I want to unearth treasure from all the good preaching and teaching I have experienced in my life. Grab your shovels folks. We are going deeper in God. I’m excited to see what we find. #wepreach

Then He commanded the multitudes to sit down on the grass. And He took the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, He blessed and broke and gave the loaves to the disciples; and the disciples gave to the multitude. Matthew 14:19 NKJV One verse has the power to break heaven wide open for you. One verse can let you know that God sees you, hears you and is concerned about you. One verse can give you the push to go into your next phase. Well, let me be clear. One verse did it for ME on Sunday. I pray it does the same for you. Let’s dive into the sermon recap. In Matthew 14, we find the story of the two fish and five loaves of bread. Actually, this story can be found in Mark, Luke, and John as well. People who have never set foot inside of a Sunday School class likely know this story. Jesus is ministering to a multitude…thousands of people. As the day moves into the evening, the disciples suggest that Jesus send the multitude away. He is ministering in a deserted place and people need to eat. There is no drive-thru or corner store in sight. The disciples think it’s reasonable to end the service and send the people to nearby villages so that they can buy some food. Jesus tells the disciples to feed the people. They respond and let Jesus know that all they have are five loaves of bread and two fish for thousands of people to share. Jesus asks the disciples to bring the five loaves of barley bread and two fish to Him. And then we get to the one verse that is the center of the sermon. The one verse that challenged my perspective. Jesus takes the bread, blesses the bread, and breaks the bread. He gives the bread to the disciples. The disciples give the bread to the multitude. They never run out. The multitude eats until they are full. The disciples take up twelve baskets of fragments after everyone has eaten.  A miracle. A real deal miracle. Jesus takes, blesses, and breaks and everyone gets full. But does anyone know what happened immediately before this miracle? Let me save you from having to scroll through the Bible app. Right before the gathering of the multitude, Jesus gets some sad news. His cousin, John the Baptist, has been beheaded (another story for another day, but whew child!). After hearing the news, Jesus goes to a deserted place by himself. Now my cousin was not beheaded (Thank you Lord!), but I know what it is like to receive news that shakes you up. I know what it is like to go to a deserted place by yourself to recuperate. However, unlike me, Jesus does not stay in His deserted place. He sees the multitude and gets back to ministry. He does not send the people away to eat. He takes the bread, blesses the bread, and breaks the bread. And everyone gets full. By now you may have realized that the bread is not just bread. The bread is a symbol of me….and you. Life has a way of breaking us. And we should not be surprised. If you believe in Christ, breaking comes with the territory. But you know what else comes with the territory? A blessing. Before Jesus broke the bread, He blessed it. He blessed it for His service. And only then did He break it. Not to be spiteful. But for His service. See….the broken pieces went out to the multitude. To feed them. To make them full. Child, I have been broken before the Lord for a long time now. And instead of sharing with the multitude, I kept the fragments in my house. My brokenness was not serving its purpose. God blessed me for His service and wants to use all the broken pieces to minister to others. To let them know they are not alone. To help fill them with hope and His love. Maybe you have been having a hard time. You may be wrestling with grief, like me, or being broken in many other ways. This is your reminder that you were blessed before you were ever broken. God is not evil. He took you in His hands, and He blessed you. My prayer for you is that you don’t give up after the breaking. Use your broken pieces to minister to others. Maximize your life so that everyone can be full. #wepreach

One of the worst parts of the day that Tomica died was the waiting. We waited all day for an update. I am not being dramatic or drumming up the suspense. I mean that we sat together in a family room close to the ICU all day long. They needed to run more tests. And those tests took time. Four bland walls, some chairs, random end tables, lamps, a TV, and tissues. I do not remember if the TV was on or off. I do not remember what we talked about, but I so clearly remember the waiting. I remember silent prayers and hope. Hoping beyond hope that it all would turn out the way that I wanted it to turn out. I remember texting my bestie and my life group leader for prayer. Anyone who could get a prayer through. I do not remember us praying out loud for favor and healing, but Lord I remember the waiting. We existed in a space of the unknown that day. We had to wait for the test results. Besides prayer, there were no actions that we could take. So, we waited. What an uncomfortable position to be in. What a glorious opportunity to exercise faith. You know faith, don’t you? The substance of things hoped for…the evidence of things not seen. The report was bad, but we existed and trusted in the waiting. Sweet Jesus…the waiting. And God answered after the wait. I can tell you that I was not pleased with the response. Or His responses after various other moments that I was suspended in the waiting. I felt my faith slipping through my fingers as sand flows in an hourglass. When would I see victory on THIS side of glory? When would the tide turn in my direction? I was frustrated with the waiting. The Lord brought Isaiah 40:31 to my mind just now. “But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength.” The scripture continues and speaks of mounting up with wings like eagles, running and not getting weary, and walking but not fainting. All because of the waiting. The thing that I despise and yet have so much practice with. I have cried and protested. I have stomped and pouted. But I am still here…standing. And dealing with the waiting. I am quite sure that I am not alone. The waiting can be soul-crushing. But can I share something with you? The waiting showed me who God REALLY was to me. Not a genie who granted my every request. But a loving Father who held me when I did not want to be held by Him. Not a tyrant who slashed all my hopes and desires. But a God that has a master plan. A God that I need to trust because He can see the whole picture. A God that blesses the waiting.

Folks have lots of sayings about time. Like it flies when you’re having fun or that it heals all wounds. In my experience, time flies whether you’re having fun or not and it hasn’t healed my wounds. I would say that I’ve just grown accustomed to the pain. In any event, time keeps rolling without any regard for our feelings, wants, or desires. And time rolled all the way to my 39th birthday. I started a bit of a tradition where I generated a list of activities that I wanted to do. A bit of fun to inspire me to really seek out new adventures as my birthday rolled around. 35 activities for 35, 36 activities for 36,…you get the idea. My 38th birthday did not get a list. I was wrapped up, tied up, tangled up with grief. And fun activities were not on the menu. Ahhh, but time kept rolling and I arrived at 39. So for better or for worse, here is my list of activities for 39: Write blog posts at least three times a week. (Yikes!!!!) Regularly attend church service in person. Go on a bike ride. Hike a trail at a state park. Try 1 new restaurant a month in the Central Arkansas area. Make 1 new recipe a month at home. Pick a person every week that I am going to intentionally pray for. Develop a more serious prayer life. Say 1 thing out loud that I am thankful for every morning. Get back into the swing of reading. Read 1 new book every month. Dedicate an hour every day to writing my book until it’s finished. Have one meatless day a week. Go swimming…it’s been a while. Style my hair at least twice a month…even if I’m not going anywhere fancy. Sew an adult-sized quilt. The baby quilt was awesome but I need to upgrade. Donate clothes that I haven’t worn in a year and that I regularly skip over when it’s time to pick out an outfit. Get featured in one of Bible Study Brother’s songs. There is a lyricist in me, and one day, he will acknowledge it. LOL! Be featured in one of Bible Study Brother’s videos. It has been a LONG standing goal, and this might just be my year! Write down our family tree with the help of my grandmother. Participate in 2 Bible studies. Teach my cat one trick. Organize all the photos that I have been saying that I will organize for years. Go see a play. Walk a half-marathon. Not in an official organized race. But pick a day and walk in honor of my cousin, Tomica, who wanted to complete one. And tried to get me to agree. But I ALWAYS said no. LOL! Write a handwritten letter to one person a month. It’s always good to have a special surprise in the mail that is not a bill. Count to 10 before speaking when folks get on my nerves. Grab a canvas, paints, and paintbrush and paint a picture. No template. Just anything goes. Make a new vision board. Throw another murder mystery party. That was fun. Try a new vegetable. Try a new fruit. Get serious about maintaining my lawn. Go ahead and clip the branches that I have been meaning to clip for years. Do a cartwheel. For real this year. Ride in a hot air balloon. Ride on a roller coaster with my mama. Learn to drive a stick. But first I have to find someone that has one. And then has the patience to get jerked around while I learn. LOL! Hand-knit that blanket. I bought the jumbo yarn, and it has been staring at me for months. Scope out a dope waterfall in nature. Cherish every memory that I make in the process. They probably won’t all be completed but I know they will keep me moving forward. #wepreach

The season is changing. Winter is giving way to spring in unpredictable weather mood swings. One day, I need my ear warmers and hoodie, and the very next day, I can wear flip flops (which I happily do). I toggle back and forth between heat and cool on the thermostat. I remember to flip my porch sign to the side that says “He is Risen” to signal the beginning of Lent.  The signs are all around that a shift is in process. The thing that sucks about the changing seasons is the uncertainty. I cannot just exit the house before checking the weather forecast. Well, I could. But doing that has the potential for me to be overdressed and sweating or underdressed and wishing for my hoodie. Thankfully with all the technology we have, a quick swipe on my weather app lets me know what I need to put on to prepare for this confusing transition of seasons. Uncertainty also rears its head when there is a shift in the emotional and spiritual seasons of my life. Unlike weather seasons, emotional and spiritual seasons are not pinned down by a calendar. Some seasons go by lightning-fast and others drag on almost indefinitely. Then there are the fun times when seasons are shifting and changing. The times when I go from hot to cold to something in between. The times when the clash of temperatures creates an emotional tornado and leaves destruction in their wake. Hmmm…should I say destruction? Or an opportunity to start over with a clean slate? Should I use the word renew? Refresh? Revive? I think any of those will do for me. I am walking through the valley of the shadow of death, but I see light. It is not as dark as it was. And as crazy as it sounds, that is unsettling. It has been dark around here for so long that the light makes me shield my eyes. But even though I throw my hands up to adjust to the brightness, I have not stopped walking towards the light. I keep walking towards my new season. Although many things are uncertain, one thing is for sure for me “I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living (Psalms 23:17).” Clearly, I will have to adjust to this new season of my life, but the Lord knows that I am ready to get there. If you have been in a dark season, trust and believe that you will not be there always. Seasons change. Seasons shift. You should be in your flip-flops soon. #wepreach

Can you feel it? It goes far beyond setting the “right” atmosphere.  It has nothing to do with picking the perfect Christmas tree, using the most lights and tinsel, or having the prettiest wrapped gifts. It supercedes playing the best Christmas music. It’s even bigger than following traditions or even creating new traditions with our family and friends. It is larger than any sadness I may experience. Greater than any smile I generate by handing out presents. Really…..can you feel it? It crept up on me. I was not expecting it. But I’m so glad it arrived. You really don’t know what I’m talking about? It’s the hope that I’m feeling. Christmas has meant many things to me in the past, but this year, I am entranced by the hope it has provided. When i think of the Christmas story…unexpected pregnancy for Mary AND certainly for Joseph… no room in the inn…my Savior….the King of Kings…lying in a manger….I am flooded with hope. Hope for better days. Hope for victory in the most unexpected circumstances. Hope for life and life more abundantly. Hope that cannot be taken away. The Christmas story may affect you differently. And honestly, it probably should. We all have unique walks with Christ. I don’t think He’s into cookie cutter relationships. He meets us wherever we are. This year He met me and reminded me to hope. To believe. To hold on. Because Jesus Christ was born. And His birth gives my hope a home. Merry Christmas! #wepreach

I so want to enter Thanksgiving with an attitude of gratitude and not one of defeat.  Holidays are a big part of my family culture.  Especially since holidays feature food. (I cannot stress enough how much we value food…LOL.)  But it is not just the food.  No, the holiday season is about spending time with the people you love.  And we are missing so many faces in our family this Thanksgiving. Grief adds a different spin on treasured traditions.  Listen, I thought last year was so weird getting together via Zoom.  We saw what each family had whipped up.  We prayed together.  Made fun of each other and logged off.  Of course, I drove to Tomica’s house after the family Zoom and crashed their Thanksgiving for a while.  No way that can happen this year.  So, I am struggling to adjust. Writing a series of some of the things I am grateful for has helped streamline my thinking.  Do not get me wrong.  The grief is still present.  I continue to feel my feelings, but I also make sure to find some joy.  I need something to hope for.  Isn’t that what faith is all about?  The substance of things hoped for.  The evidence of things not seen. I am a faith case if you have ever seen one.  My prayer for you, and myself, on this Thanksgiving is that you have more joy than sorrow.  That your faith is renewed and stored.  And that you can find at least one thing to be thankful for.  Happy Thanksgiving!  #wepreach

Writing a series on things I am grateful for has REALLY made me think.  I needed to focus on positivity.  I had to shift my thinking.  My self-reflection brought some clarity to my relationship with others and tendency to accept less than the best. You see…I am a giver.  It flows out of me without a second thought.  I suppose that is why I chose a helping profession.  I get paid to do what comes naturally to me.  I tend to form bonds with people that are in need.  It satisfies the part of me that wants to fix and help in any way possible.  Since giving and helping are an integral part of who I am, it leaves me open to be taken advantage of.  And I have experienced my fair share of being used and taken for granted. Yet on today, I am able to reflect on all the people that have added value to my life.  I can thank the ones that do not just interact with me because of what I can give.  I can thank those that improve my life in ways that I had not even thought of.  Certainly, this year, my ability to give has been drastically diminished.  You cannot get blood from a turnip.  And you are looking at a big turnip my friends. Cheers to the folks in my circle that have made life even a little bit better for me.  I am grateful for the folks that steered me in the right direction.  I appreciate the ones who gave meals.  The ones that prayed for me.  The ones that washed my dishes.  The ones that swept and mopped my floors.  The ones that cheered for me.  I am grateful for each one that added value to my life.  #wepreach

Constructing assembly required purchases usually does not intimidate me.  I figure if I follow the instructions, things will turn out like they are supposed to.  My final product will look like the item pictured on the box….most of the time.  Recently, I had the opportunity to put my construction skills to the test.  Bible Study Mama happily volunteered to help with the heavy lifting.  I did not even have to ask.  She considers herself a jack-of-all-trades.  Our first project started off just fine.  Except for the fact that my assistant was ready to put it all together without looking at the instructions.  I had to remind her that the instructions were there for a reason.  It would not hurt us to consult them before we got way off track.  She agreed and we plowed our way through the construction.  As we neared the end, we hit some snags.  Screws were not fitting the way that the instructions said they should fit.  Bible Study Mama remembered that she had questioned the positioning of two pieces of steel way at the beginning.  We switched them around and everything fit beautifully. Our second project went off without a hitch.  We were breezing through the assembly.  I looked intently at each pictured stage and asked for the required screws and tools to complete my part.  One of us even made the comment that we would be finished in a jiffy.  Big mistake.  As we entered the final stages of construction, things were off-balance.  We pushed.  We pulled.  We flipped.  We sweated.  I gave Bible Study Mama the instructions and asked her to look to see if I was seeing things clearly.  She saw our mistake.  We were able to finish our task. What if I had held on to the instructions for dear life?  Our project would have reminded lopsided and unusable.  Cute to look at it but not ready for practical use.  Even though I pride myself on constructing home projects, I reached a point where I was holding up our progress.  I pushed my pride to the side and asked for help.  I use that same principle in my spiritual life.  It can be easy to feel that we have things figured out.  We can read.  We have our own Bibles.  But isolation from fellow believers can leave us lopsided and unusable.  I am grateful that I have the instructions in God’s Holy Word and fellow believers to hold me accountable for my missteps.  #wepreach

As far back as I can remember, I have had a thing for photos.  I would beg Bible Study Mama for disposable cameras.  I wanted to be able to document my life visually.  I had a drive and pull towards pictures that I cannot explain.  Of course, I had no idea what I actually captured until the photos came back from the developer.  I remember opening those paper envelopes at the counter and looking through each photo.  Typically, there were cut-off faces and awkward angles.  No instant do-overs like today.  And because of that, I have some of the funniest photos ever.  Precious memories that bring a smile to my face and a giggle. I suppose I like to capture moments because it helps me remember them.  Our brains can only retain so much information.  Once moments are gone, we cannot get them back.  The snap of the camera and the flash of the light freeze those moments.  When I pull out my photo albums (I have TONS of them) or flip through my photos on my phone, I get to experience a little slice of those moments again. Do yourself a favor.  Take pictures with everyone you love and even some of the folks you do not like.  They make a difference.  They tell your life story.  #wepreach

Okay!  Okay!  I was just like you.  Until three or four years ago, I thought that onesies were only for babies too.  I mean, how practical would it be for me to wander around the house in a one-piece outfit?  They just make sense for babies.  So, I left it to the littles until I experienced my own little slice of onesie heaven. Part of my reluctance to get into onesies is that they were not really made for big girls.  Until they were.  I am an avid online shopper.  Long-sleeved onesies for winter popped up during one of my shopping scrolls.  And they came in my size.  I clicked on them.  Read the description.  One zipper in the front to make it easy to get on and off.  I decided to drop it into my cart and purchase it.  Back then, I was shopping a LOT!  I forgot that I had purchased it.  My face was scrunched up as I pulled it out of the packaging.  What in the world could it be?  Then I remembered.  I tried it on, and my life changed forever.  Y’all, onesie life is the truth!  As soon as the weather turns a little nippy, I pull it out.  It is the perfect outfit to lounge around the house on the weekend.  When my people video call me and they see the onesie, they know that I am fully settled in.  Life got even more fantastic when I got a onesie with a hoodie.  YOU….CAN’T….TELL….ME….ANYTHING!  LOL! You know I am wearing a onesie as I type this blog.  It would be wrong to have on any other attire.  If you haven’t ever tried one, I recommend that you do.  Mine are so warm and snuggly.  I need warm and snuggly right now.  #wepreach

Did you know that we cannot do life alone?  Well, we COULD but that usually does not turn out very well.  We were created for relationships, and no matter how much people may annoy or challenge us…we need them.  Friendship takes many forms through the years.  While I have not ever been one to claim tons of friends, I have noticed that my friendship circler has gotten smaller.  Closer. More intimate.  Although I am introverted around unfamiliar people, I am all the way live with my friends.  Loud…dramatic…inappropriate.  I am fully myself, and I am sure that they would not have it any other way.  Each of them was placed in my life for a special reason and a special purpose.  They all have their own flair, and I can connect with them on different levels.  Whether I have known them for a long time or a short time, they have each contributed to my well-being in significant ways. Especially this year.  My friends have been AMAZING.  They showed up in a spectacular way.  Constantly checking in and checking on me.  Understanding when I could not talk.  Listening when I was able to utter words to try to explain how I was feeling.  Laughing with me.  Crying with me.  Celebrating me when I did not feel an ounce of celebration in my soul.  Holding my hand when my loved one’s caskets were lowered into the ground.  Reminding me of better days.  Hoping and praying with me for a brighter future.  And I am so grateful.  #wepreach

In the past, I have been guilty of burning the candle at both ends.  Downtime just did not sit well with me.  My days were jam-packed.  I moved from one activity to the next.  I worked and worked and worked.  I wore myself into the ground and was proud of it.  If a man does not work, he does not eat.  You have seen me.  I make sure I can eat.  I kept my mind and my hands busy. While running this way and that way, I ran into a brick wall on the day that Tomica died.  When I got the call that her health had taken a serious turn for the worst, I was sitting in my car about to go to work.  I felt helpless.  I remember saying out loud to myself, “I don’t know what to do.”  I was so used to running that I thought I would just drive to work.  I could bury myself in busyness.  I could ignore the very real pain I was feeling. Thankfully, Bible Study Mama called me and told me to not move.  She was on her way.  And that began a period of rest…and grieving…for me.  The church girl in me wanted to get back on the horse.  To show the world that God was still good.  Shoot, forget the world.  I wanted to pump myself up and remind myself that He was still good even though it did not feel like it.  But God pumped the brakes on that one.  He told me to rest. Now I will admit that I took the rest thing too far.  I allowed myself to become complacent.  At times, I let depression drive my life.  But the principle of rest still remains a good one.  I had reached a point where I had nothing to pour out.  I was empty.  God used my rest period to refill me, to restore me, to reset me.  And for that I am grateful.  #wepreach

You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. Psalm 56:8 NLT Let me give you a little disclaimer.  I am not big on crying.  Being dramatic…YES!  Crying….NO!  So, imagine how thrown off I have been this year with all the tears that have been shed.  I have cried longer, harder, and louder than I could have ever imagined.  Sniffling…snotting…and snorting.  It has been ugly.  And yet, I am so grateful for the tears. I can imagine how much worse things would be for me if I tried to keep all that emotion bottled up.  See, I have a tendency to stumble and fall and shake it off immediately.  I will say that did not hurt and limp off to the next task.  Not immobile at all but definitely wounded.  And I won’t take time tend to my wound.  Because there is always work to be done.  There are always people to help. But these tears…this year…I could not just shake it off.  I had to sit in my emotions and deal with them head-on. (Well, mostly head-on…come on now, I’m human.)  Just last night, I dreamed of my loved ones that died this year.  My uncle was doing his level best to convince me that his death was an elaborate hoax.  That he was actually on a super-secret mission and now that it was over, he could be back with the family for Thanksgiving.  Tomica was there with her smirk on her face telling me that nothing bad had happened.  But even in my dream, I knew that all those things were not true.  So, the tears came fast and hard in my dream. I woke up with wet cheeks and a wet pillow.  These tears always find a way to leak out.  They will not stay contained.  They flow quickly and quietly.  Not as often as earlier this year, but they still flow.  I am comforted by the fact that God knows my sorrow.  He does not disregard my tears.  He collects them.  He records them.  And for that, I am grateful.  #wepreach

Road trips have long been part of our family fabric.  Car riding is in our blood.  We pack our bags and head out for that open road.  Oh, and snacks…we pack snacks too.  (You know my family is big and big on food…LOL!)  We were sitting around Bible Study Mama’s kitchen table.  Bible Study Brother asked for volunteers to help him drive to Tacoma. Since car riding is in our blood, I am sure that you assume that I jumped at the opportunity.  How could I resist three days of a fabulous cross-country adventure?  I quickly told him “no.”  While I do not mind driving, I was not eager to help with the moving and lifting.  No way!!!  Count me out.  I gave in five minutes later and agreed to the trip. Between agreeing to go and the actual day of the trip, things changed.  Bible Study Mama decided to saddle up and join us on our adventure.  We knew she did not want to be left out.  Bible Study Brother began telling dad jokes at a breakneck speed.  And again, I said “count me out.”  We settled on one dad joke per state. Our trip to Tacoma was TRULY an adventure.  This was a road trip for the books.  I drove a U-Haul for the first time.  We had fabulous food.  Bible Study Brother got so tired that he forgot to tell a dad joke in one of the states. (He later remembered that he had forgotten so….) I saw the raw beauty that God created in the western states.  I made more precious memories with my family (I just will not tell you how they did me in Boise…but they know.)  And for that, I am grateful.  #wepreach

Reading has long been a passion of mine.  There is something about the written word.  It transports you to another place.  It deposits you at different times.  It challenges your beliefs and expands your mind.  Bible Study Mama was smart.  Buying books for a voracious reader gets mighty expensive mighty quickly.  Although she always bought me whatever book I wanted, she also took advantage of our local libraries. We regularly visited the downtown library.  Let me tell you…it was not the fancy library that exists now.  Nope.  The elevator to the second floor was old…and scary.  It had seen better days.  But once I made it to the second floor, the doors opened up into a juvenile reader paradise.  I piled as many books as I could into my arms and hoped they would hold me until my next visit. When I entered college, I became a member of the local library in Conway.  I kept the library tradition going.  I would peruse the shelves in search of new reading material.  Since I am such an avid reader, I would spice things up and pick books based solely on the cover.  I would not read the description or anything.  Just grab and go.  Some books were duds and others were treasures.  But it kept things interesting for me. I have been a card-carrying member of the local library in every city and state that I have lived.  Because I learned that buying books was an expensive—and heavy—habit.  Walking into a library really is like coming home for me.  Listen…I am a full-on nerd and I happily embrace it.  I wonder who thought up the idea of allowing people to borrow books for free.  Whoever it was…I am grateful.  #wepreach

I was scrolling through my photo gallery on my phone the other day looking for a picture.  I ended up scrolling all the way back to February of this year.  And got quite a shock.  I gasped and clutched my pearls.  Fitz, my cat, looked up from his napping perch on the couch to see what was going on.  Y’all…. The picture was taken the week after Uncle Chauncey died.  A nice snow front had settled into Central Arkansas.  No one was going anywhere.  Well, I was not in the right mental space to go anywhere anyway.  An on-time winter wonderland.  You might be imagining that this was a picture of gently falling snow.  Or perhaps kids building a snowman.  Nope, it was a picture of my face. Keep in mind that I was TOTALLY stressed and grieving during that week.  Uncle Chauncey was the fourth family member that I had lost in five weeks’ time, and I was pretty done for.  So why was I taking a picture of my face?  Because there was a massive growth on my cheek.  At first, we thought it was a pimple.  But it kept getting bigger….and bigger. I forgot how huge it was until I saw that picture.  Honey, MASKS SAVED MY LIFE.  Aside from helping to protect me from COVID, it shielded the world from my very visible distress.  When I say that thing was HUGE, ohhhhh it was huge.  So, while dealing with major grief, I had to go under the knife.  That thing could not stay on me.  Sweet Baby was very grossed out….LOL. Now that I am more with it, I am shocked to see how bad it truly was.  The kids I work with would have run screaming in horror.  Shoot, I would have run screaming in horror if I had been in my right mind.  So, today, I give a shout-out to the masks of the world.  They kept my dirty secret.  And for that, I am grateful.  #wepreach

I recently realized how important my different church families have been in my life.  I grew up in church.  If the doors of the church were open, Bible Study Mama made sure that we were there.  When you spend that much time with people, you inevitably create bonds.  Now, let’s be real for a second.  Many of us present a nicer version of ourselves at church.  We want to appear to be super saved.  Not in need of help ourselves but beacons of light for the heathens of the world.  But given enough time and being placed in the right circumstances, you can see through the façade.  You get to know the person behind the prayer warrior.  You get to see the heart of the people that you fellowship with. While I have had some not-so-nice encounters with church members, I have also been blessed with some of the best church families that a person could have.  The current pastor of my home church came to bless my home.  Different members of the church spoke words of prosperity and wholeness over me and this house.  They brought gifts.  We ate and laughed and celebrated together even though that is no longer my church home.  Even though I am not on their official roll, I am forever theirs. When Tomica passed away, our former pastor immediately got in touch with me.  I had intended to reach out to him, but I did not have to.  Members of our former church sent cards and reached out to check on me.  And they continue to check on me.  We spent so many years together working in ministry and learning to be who Christ called us to be.  Even though I am not on their official roll any longer, I am forever theirs. My current pastor called when he got the news.  To touch base.  To see how I was getting along.  My life group members sent texts and food.  They ministered to me in the best way they knew how.  Other members of the church sent cards and called.  They made an effort to let me know that my pain is theirs. In a season of unexplainable and unexpected loss, they wrapped their arms around me.  I am forever theirs. How I wish that the entire body of Christ would realize that we have been called to be one big family.  One big church family that is together forever. Just like we forever belong to Christ.  I have been blessed with the best.  And for that I am grateful.  #wepreach

A clean slate.  A new page.  A fresh start.  New beginnings.  After an ending, we get the chance to begin again.  An opportunity to seize the day.  Maybe you are sending your kid off to their first day of school.  Maybe you are trying to cook macaroni and cheese like your mom does for this year’s Thanksgiving feast.  Whatever it is, we all have to face new journeys.  As thrilling as new beginnings can be, they can also be a little scary.  Well, let me speak for myself.  New beginnings are a little scary for ME.  Even when they are totally positive.  I think it is the fear of the unknown.  (Not that we can ever really fully know anything because life is unpredictable…but you get my drift.)  There is a peace that comes with having a routine.  I find a certain comfort in frequenting the same store.  I know where everything is.  I can go straight to the products that I need and check out with no issues.  Sure, I do not know what will happen while I am in the store, but I have a plan…and expectations. Do not get me wrong.  I have expectations of my new beginnings as well.  But since I have not walked the path before, I have no clue about what lies ahead.  And that freaks me out.  Yet and still, I continue to celebrate new beginnings.  They are the promise of something better.  They are the possibility of fulfilled hopes.  They are the space where miracles are performed.  They are an opportunity for God to show up, show out, and blow my mind.  And for that, I am grateful.  #wepreach

I can be a bit weird.  I fully own it and am not ashamed of it.  After all, Deuteronomy says that we are a peculiar people.  So, I am totally prepared for the judgment that may come after I tell you this.  See, I have an appreciation for endings.  Do not get me wrong.  Some endings are totally sad.  Totally unexpected and absolutely unwelcome.  But even those endings have a greater purpose.  Of course, this has not always been my mindset. Want to hear something else weird about my admiration for endings?  I am an avid book reader.  In order to challenge my brain, I began to read the very last page of a book before I read anything else.  Sometimes there were spoilers, but quite often I was amazed at how my peek at the ending did not always give me insight into what would unfold in the book.  There were always twists and turns that I could not predict.  There were always delights that I would have missed out on if I did not read through the entire story.  Knowing the ending did not ruin the story. Endings are not always bad.  Child, I am celebrating a personal ending as we speak…(technically, as you read, but you get the point).  I went out and bought myself some Nothing Bundt bundlets to celebrate.  I told everyone that I knew and loved that a chapter of my life was coming to a close.  They have congratulated me and cheered me on.  I cannot be sure what is on the other side of this ending, but I embrace closing the door. Since I am a believer in Christ, I know my ending on Earth.  I do not know when, but one day, the Lord will call me home.  My days of mowing the lawn and cleaning my house will have come to a close.  No more paying bills.  No more making cakes.  That will all be finished.  A good ending…a joyous ending that paves the way for my new beginnings with Christ.  And for that I am grateful.  #wepreach

Why oh why would I be thankful for grief?  I am so glad you asked.  Initially, I was anything but grateful for my grief.  It was a dark, dark, cloud that hung over my head.  It was an unbelievably heavy load that I had to carry.  It made me irritable.  It made me numb.  It ruled my life. When you lose people you love, folks always feel pressure to say the right thing.  To offer the right advice.  Sometimes even to share their own stories of loss.  It can be helpful but many times it was not for me.  I just was not in a place to receive it.  Parts of me just wanted to reject anything people said.  I was not supposed to have to hear it.  That was not supposed to be part of my story. While in that mind frame, someone said to me that my tears were just proof of my love.  When you love hard, you grieve hard.  My therapist told me something similar.  My deep grief was a reflection of my deep love.  And my response was that I suppose I should stop loving people.  Loving people has a high price.  A price that I was finding really hard to have to pay. Spoiler Alert:  I have not stopped loving people.  I actually probably hold the people that are precious to me even closer.  I am learning to embrace my grief bit by bit.  It only exists because I have experienced the greatest loves.  And for that I am grateful.  #wepreach

Since I have been on a roll with showing my appreciation for people in my life, I figured I would keep that train moving.  I love all my family.  I do not want to imagine life without any of them.  Everyone brings something different to the table that just cannot be replicated.  Especially my Cuzzo Crew.  (Cuzzo means cousin…just realized that I probably needed to explain that.) To be fair, I literally have hundreds of cousins.  When I look at both sides of my family, the cousin count gets ridiculous.  My people BELIEVE in having babies.  They want to make sure that they help repopulate the earth.  Now let’s be real.  I am not close to all of them.  But I do have a special bond with my cousins that make up the Cuzzo Crew. I cannot tell you when the name was developed so do not even ask.  Just know that it comes in handy.  I can still hear Tomica saying, “COUSIN!!!!”  when she was begging me to do something that I had no intention of doing.  I suppose it was sort of a call to action.  Sometimes, I would answer that call but quite often I would roll my eyes at her. What exactly does a Cuzzo Crew do?  A LOT of eating.  If we get together, food must be involved.  What can I say?  It’s our love language…LOL.  A LOT of laughing.  Occasional rap battles.  Ferociously competitive game nights.  Book club meetings. That random dance off in the rain.  We do life together, and I treasure each time we gather.  They are loud.  They are crazy.  They are mine.  And for that I am grateful.  #wepreach

While I know that I have written about my grandma before and some of our shenanigans, I do not recall ever just focusing solely on who she is as a person.  I have always been a little mature for my age.  And my grandma certainly fostered and encouraged my maturity.  I so looked forward to spending time with her.  I would write her letters to check on her.  I would call her if I thought the grown-ups in my house were not doing a good job meeting my demands.  And she always stuck up for me. In my eyes, she is not like a typical grandma.  Or at least, not like the grandma’s you see in Hallmark movies.  While she will bake cookies and cook for me, I have not ever seen her knitting or doing cross-stitch.  Nope.  She has a keen inquisitiveness that I am sure that I inherited from her.  I keep my mail hidden when I know she’s coming to my house.  Because if it is open…she is GOING to read it. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.  And at some point, she will slide a question about the contents of the mail into the conversation.  It took me a while, but I finally learned her tricks…LOL. I do not remember her ever talking to me in a babying way.  Anytime I asked her real questions, she gave me real answers.  So, I learned not to ask if I was not ready for the truth.  And I so appreciate that about her.  Her famous line before she cuts you to the quick is “I don’t mean no harm.”  Brace yourself.  Your feelings are likely to be harmed.  LOL. She makes me laugh out loud on a regular basis.  Now that I think about it, I love her laugh too.  It is explosive and full and free.  She usually kicks her little feet, too.  Which makes it even funnier for anyone else in the vicinity.  She is tiny but mighty.  So fierce.  So strong. The older I have gotten, the more that I have realized that I carry so many of her traits. My nosiness…I meant to say my inquisitiveness.  My love of travel.  My ability to adapt to curves in the road.  My love of family.  My “don’t quit” attitude.  My face.  My sass.  And good Lord, my dramatics.  It is all her.  And for that I am grateful.  #wepreach

I NEEDED this gratitude series.  I had to have a way to keep my head above water.  And when I think of keeping my head above water, I think of my mama.  In case you cannot tell, we are very close.  Even though I am not her favorite kid, I know she loves me…lol.  I usually shout my love for her from the rooftops on her birthday.  This year we were attending Aunt Linda’s wake on ma’s actual birthday.  I did not have it in me to write.  I was just trying to survive.  And I was also attempting to shove birthday cake down my ma’s throat, but she was not feeling it.  Totally understandable. What can I say about my mom that I have not already said?  Chances are you will not remember what I have said in the past so whatever I say will be new to you.  Let’s see…She is one of my favorite people to tease.  I trained Bible Study Brother well.  We have mastered the art of tag-teaming her and keeping her on her toes. I love her laugh.  It is loud and infectious.  I like to tease her because I want to get her going.  When she turns red and cannot catch her breath, I know I am on the right track.  When tears roll down her cheeks while she is laughing, we have hit the jackpot.  Sometimes, Bible Study Brother takes cheap shots and uses techniques that we know will trigger a laugh instantly.  I am always trying to challenge us.  I want to find new ways to tickle her fancy.  I mean, the tried-and-true strategies work in a pinch, but I would hate for them to become played out. I love her heart for people.  She is a givers giver.  Whatever she has is ours or anybody else’s.  She is always looking to see what she can do for someone else.  Her giving nature is deeply rooted.  She once told me that she wanted to drive an eighteen-wheeler hat was loaded with supplies for those in need. I guess her plan was to just stop whenever she saw someone that looked like they were down and out.  She likes driving big vehicles, so I can definitely see her doing that…LOL. Really, I just love her.  And I am so grateful that I get the chance to experience her love every day.  #wepreach

Although I have struggled to do it consistently this year, I am grateful for the gift of writing.  Quiet as it’s kept, I was a very emotional pre-teen and teenager.  Honestly, it is not my fault.  I grew up watching hours and hours of All My Children with my great-grandmother.  The characters had NO problem expressing their emotions loudly and proudly.  I guess I internalized their behaviors.  When my parents made me mad, I would stomp to my room, slam the door, and throw myself onto the bed. Those frequent scenes had repercussions.  Not whoopings.  We have already discussed that.  I am a precious angel and nobody should be whooping me…(LOL..but for real though, the “me” now would whoop the “me” then).  My parents had bigger ideas and plans.  They removed my bedroom door…which removed my power to emphasize my points.  And my mom handed me a notebook and a pen.  She suggested I write out my frustrations, and we could discuss them at a later point.  Thank God for a praying mama.  Shoot, I am sick of my own little self.  I took what she said to heart and made a journal and pen my friend. I wrote about my teenage romance and lack of romance.  I wrote about my friends.  I would write poems about any number of topics.  Occasionally, I dabbled in songwriting.  My journal gave me the opportunity to explore my feelings in a safe way.  I had found a judgement free place.  A healthier way to get to the root of my problems.  A way to record my journey through life. As I got older, I stopped writing as much.  I fell into the rhythm of adult life.  Work, eat, sleep, pay bills, repeat.  And then the good Lord pushed me to blog.  To make a conscious effort every day to write.  To share my life experiences in hopes that it helps someone else who is journeying through life.  Writing this blog has opened so many doors for me and helped me in ways that I could not have imagined when I published my first post.  And for that, I am grateful.  #wepreach

I have a deep love and appreciation for quilts.  Mainly, the quilts that my great-grandmother made.  Ma Patra would sit and sew regularly.  This has become a part of my life that is really a background memory.  I do not recall ever helping much with the quilting progress.  But I know that she was diligent about completing the quilts. Fun fact:  My family is very territorial about their Ma Patra quilts.  We all have more than one that was hand-stitched by her.  As I was growing up, she would give me a quilt on special occasions.  I would also get them just because, but I looked forward to receiving a quilt from her on the really big days in my life. Since Ma Patra has been gone, I have dabbled in and out of the quilting world. Before Sweet Baby was born, Tomica, Aunt Linda, and I gathered at my mom’s house to try our hand out at quilting.  We were going to sew a beautiful quilt for Sweet Baby.  Not by hand…we were too modern for that.  Aunt Linda brought her sewing machine.  Tomica and I brought our quilting pieces.  The sewing machine brought absolutely nothing because it wouldn’t work.  We put that project on the back burner and moved on to other crafting ventures. In 2020, we had conversations about starting a quilting club.  I created a Pinterest page.  Looked at beginner quilts.  Discussed ways to get our family quilting club off the ground.  We were going to do it.  We pushed it off until the new year.  We felt like we would have more time once 2021 rolled around.  Spoiler alert: 2021 dropped some bombs on us.  And in the midst of the sadness, we got an awesome surprise.  A new baby was on the way.  This was one of those really big days that Ma Patra would celebrate with a new quilt.  I considered it a great opportunity to pull out my own sewing machine and get to work.  I rolled into Hobby Lobby and was immediately overwhelmed by my fabric options.  I am quite confident that I looked like an amateur trying to be the best designer on Project Runway.  You know when they are pulling reams of fabric out when they go to the fabric store?  Honey, I was lining up fabrics and comparing and contrasting like you wouldn’t believe.  True to form, I did the most and purchased enough fabric for five or six quilts. Shopping was the easy part.  I got home and got busy cutting my fabric into perfect squares.  Listen, they were perfect to me.  I laid out my pattern, wound the bobbin, threaded my needle, and put the pedal to the metal.  And finally, the quilt was complete. By no means is it a perfect quilt, but it helped me feel closer to people that have gone on.  It is crooked.  And I am okay with that because my life is a little crooked right now.  Most importantly, it was made with love.  Man, after making one quilt for a tiny baby WITH a sewing machine, I have a better understanding of just how much Ma Patra loved us.  It was a lot of work, but it made my heart smile to know that even after I am gone that quilt can still warm up the people that I love.  And for that I am grateful.  #wepreach

I am eternally grateful for my salvation.  No series about my personal thanksgiving could really ever be complete without it. Without salvation, there is no Bible Study Girl.  Without salvation, there is no hope. I asked Google to define salvation.  It spit out that salvation is “preservation or deliverance from harm, ruin, or loss.”  In my eyes, that definition covers it.  I accepted Christ publicly when I was nine years old.  I walked down the aisle at church.  I stood in front of the entire congregation and told them that I believed that Jesus died for my sins.  I declared that I accepted Him into my life.  I received the gift of salvation. I did not get chills or goosebumps on that day.  I was waiting for something to happen.  Anything really.  I needed to know that my change was real.  Before getting baptized, I had to attend a class.  We learned about salvation.  They did their best to explain the new life that we had signed up for.  The most poignant part of the class for me was an illustration in the book.  They had an old dirty car go through a car wash.  It came out on the other side shiny and new.  That was it.  That was the change I was looking for.  I wanted to FEEL clean.  And not so dirty. The day of my baptism arrived, and I was ready.  Fresh side ponytail.  Cute little dress.  They placed a shower cap on my head to preserve that little ponytail from harm or ruin.  I was dipped into the water and brought back up.  Wet.  A little cold.  And still feeling dirty. Was I saved?  Absolutely!  I believed in Jesus with everything in me.  Saved means saved.  No matter what.  I just had to grow into that realization.  I spent years doubting my salvation.  Every time I messed up, I just knew that Jesus was through with me.  I am grateful that I now understand that I am His.  I am glad to realize that He does not take His gift back every time I stumble.  He died to save me from all harm, ruin, and loss.  And that certainly gives me an attitude of gratitude.  #wepreach

Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy Birthday Bible Study Brother.  A review of things that I am grateful for would not be complete if I didn’t salute this guy.  I have shared before how much I wanted a sibling.  I knew at a tender age that only child life was not going to cut it.  I was thrilled to meet the little guy that made me a big sister.  Unfortunately, our first meeting was not all peaches and cream.  He was getting his diaper changed and well…thank God for my quick reflexes. Our relationship improved after the initial meeting.  He was everything I wanted…until he started walking.  I take that back.  The walking wasn’t so bad.  It was the running that happened anytime we went into a public place.  He was like a Tasmanian devil.  Ripping through racks of clothing.  Squealing with delight.  And guess what…it was my job to chase him down.  *Sigh* Thankfully those days passed.  We have walked through the highest highs and the lowest lows.  And we did it together.  Kicking and screaming.  Cussing and fussing.  Eating and retreating.  He has been an answer to my prayer.  The prayer that I did not fully understand.  The request that was not completely thought out.  But exactly the sibling that I needed. Joe, I pray that this year is a year of increase and unbelievable joy.  I pray that you continue to turn to God in every situation.  I want the Lord to bless you from the crown of your head to the soles of your feet.  I believe that His favor will shine in your life like never before.  And I’m grateful that have the opportunity to see His hand in your life. #wepreach

On today, I express my gratitude for laughter.  Listen up guys.  Everything that I am grateful for is not super deep.  I am so easily amused.  Ask Bible Study Mama.  She will tell you that I laugh in my sleep.  Not just a giggle.  I am talking deep belly laughs.  The kind that really should wake me up.  Sometimes, she asks what I was dreaming.  Usually, I cannot recall anything specific. Now earlier this year, my laughter was replaced with crying in my sleep.  I am talking deep belly crying.  The kind that actually woke me up.  On more nights than I can count.  Bible Study Mama did not have to ask me what I was dreaming.  Usually, she would rub my back and cry her own tears.  The rivers of tears that I have shed make me so thankful for every laugh. Fortunately, I work with kids that provide an endless source of entertainment.  Remember ya’ll.  I am easily amused.  You may be in need of a little laugh today so I will share a story that happened just this past week.  My current caseload of children range in age from 11 months old to six years old.  A high diaper demographic.  Quite often, my little friends soil their diapers.  Sometimes, they do it at the end of a session.  No big deal.  We are walking back to class anyway.  And other times, they do it right at the beginning. My friend pushed out a heavy load shortly after he walked into my office.  And I say pushed because he stopped in his tracks on the way to pick up one of his favorite toys.  And made the face.  If you have been around kids, you know the poop face.  Intense concentration.  Staring at a fixed point.  No movement.  No response to questions.  An occasional grunt.  And as soon as he finished, he began to cry.  He despises dirty diapers.  I despise smelling them in an enclosed office.  We made our way to the bathroom to get rid of the source of OUR discomfort. Except.  The wildest thing happened.  He started to scream in protest when I was changing his diaper.  I calmly explained that I was getting rid of the poop.  He yelled at me.  Legitimately yelled at me and told me that he did NOT poop.  Ummmm….excuse me, young man…can you not smell what I smell?  Can you not see what I see?  Now, I do not mind asking kids questions for clarity.  So, I showed him the diaper and asked what it was if it wasn’t poop.  He immediately stopped crying and said “chocolate” with the biggest grin on his face.  And I LAUGHED.  We laughed together.  And I am grateful that I get to do that.  I hope laughter finds you today.  #wepreach

In years past, I have been committed to using the month of November as a time to express thanks.  The very first year of the blog I extended an invitation to friends and family members to write about things that they were thankful for.  And last year Bible Study Brother took over and gave written roses to people who had made a difference in his life.  Writing took a major back seat in my life this year, but the good Lord pulled especially hard on my heart today.  The theme for this year’s November blogs will be “An Attitude of Gratitude.”  In the midst of the MOST challenging year of my life, God has given me so much to be thankful for.  Even when I cannot see it.  Even on the days when it does not feel like it.  My faith has been challenged and tested in ways that I could not have imagined.  It has been stretched…pulled…stomped on…set on fire.  I think you get the point that I am trying to make.  Back in September, I thought I was ready to hold up the blood-stained banner again.  I wanted to get back on the blogging horse and ride it into battle.  Well, that boost lasted for three days.  Then I was back in rut and not even trying to get out. People talk about ruts like they are a bad thing.  They make them sound uncomfortable.  They make them seem trashy.  But let me tell you.  I created a pretty awesome rut for myself…lol.  Surrounded by potato chips and dip and absorbing all the murder mystery shows that I could get my hands on.  I mean I have been truly enthralled by the depravity going on in the world.  Binge watching episode after episode and season after season. I was talking to my therapist about how depressed I have been lately.  I had hit that high in September.  I thought I was on the right road.  What could I possibly be doing wrong???  He reminded me of the things that I had focused on in August.  Regular exercise, regular writing, regular connection with others, regular Bible study.  When I focused on hitting those goals, I did not have time to burrow into my rut.  He then gently told me that I probably needed to give the murder mystery shows a rest.  Now I clearly heard everything that he told me.  I heard it loud and clear.  And went right home into my rut. WHAT????  I already told you that it was comfortable.  No muss.  No fuss.  A simple life.  The other things required too much effort.  But I have had to get out of that rut….again.  For some reason, God keeps giving me another chance. On today, I am thankful that He has been a God of second, third, fourth, fifth…soooo many chances, in my life.  And I have to stop taking His love and care for granted.  I cannot lie.  This assignment to find gratitude is not easy for me in my current season.  But it’s necessary.  Not just for me.  For you as well.  You may not be in a rut.  So this message probably is not for you.  But if you are in a rut, peep your head out over the edge.  Getting out may be difficult for us, but it will certainly be worth it.    #wepreach

And she answered and said to Him, “Yes, Lord, yet even the little dogs under the table eat from the children’s crumbs.”  Luke 7:28 Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.  All you need is a mustard seed-sized amount.  Which is so small.  Tiny really.  And sometimes so difficult to have.  I am speaking from personal experience.  In a season that has left me feeling battered and bruised, I was reminded that I have to fight through it.  Let’s dive right into the sermon recap. Sunday’s sermon landed in Mark 7:24-30.  There we see Jesus entering a house in the region of Tyre and Sidon.  He is attempting to be incognito.  No big crowds.  No speeches.  Just seeking alone time.  Well…that’s not what happened.  Jesus was well known for performing miracles.  And you know people.  People talk.  And that is how a Gentile woman tracked Him down to make a desperate request.  Her daughter was demon-possessed.  She wanted healing for her daughter, so she fell at the feet of the man whose reputation proceeded Him and made her request known. Now in my mind, Jesus would be moved by her request and instantly heal her daughter.  The woman would be able to leap to her feet in celebration because the God of miracles had once again performed a miracle.  Clearly, the Lord’s ways are not our ways, and His thoughts are not our thoughts because He goes in an entirely different direction.  He tells the Gentile woman that His children have to be filled first.  He lets her know that it’s not good to take children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.  Yes…you read it right.  He called her a dog.  That would have many of us leaping to our feet.  Just not in celebration.  However, that is not what this woman does.  She has a different perspective.  She has a different level of faith.  She doesn’t hear no.  She settles in on the word “first.”  A small word.  Tiny really.  But it gives her all the hope that she needs.  She responds that even little dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the children’s table.  Jesus then grants her request.  He tells her to go home.  Her daughter has been made whole. So, what does this tell me about faith?  How can I apply her situation practically to mine?  She took what looked like an obstacle and made it an opportunity.  I am not a parent, but I can only imagine how much it would hurt to have your child unwell…demon-possessed.  She is searching for deliverance and grasping at straws.  Any solution will do.  She was willing to do whatever it took to help her child be whole.  She had fight.  She was expecting great things.  She was believing for great things.  Her energy was focused on healing.  And that is what she received. My focus needs to shift.  And yours probably does too.  I have been so discouraged by my losses.  I settle in and focus on what God did not do for me.  I examine all the ways that I feel cheated.  I discard the mustard seed.   I forget to hope.  And hope is what I need to be holding on to.  Hope helps me to fight through it and believe that better days are coming.  I need to remain focused on healing and believing for greater things.  Now listen, I am not going to hold you all day.  And I really could.  There are many jewels and gems that I took away from the sermon.  This is just a recap.  If you want to listen to the entire sermon, you can mosey right on over to my church’s YouTube or Facebook page.  In the meantime, shift your focus so that you will be ready for whatever blow comes your way.  I believe we can fight through it.  #wepreach

Sitting at my computer and typing is a homecoming of sorts for me.  I did not realize how much I missed it…how much I need it…until my fingers started flying across these keys.  This is therapy for me.  This is ministry for me.  This is freedom.  God meets me here, and I am thankful that He did not count me out.  Although I have missed many of our appointments, He has faithfully shown up. So, what has Bible Study Girl been doing to handle her grief?  Lots of random things.  Binge-watching true crimes and murder mystery shows.  Eating.  Not eating.  Exercising excessively.  Not moving at all. Crying.  Laughing.  Rearranging furniture.  Looking through old pictures.  Watching family videos.  Did you notice that I did not mention reading my Bible?  Or attending church (virtually or in-person)? To be fair, my bestie agreed to do a six-week Bible study with me in the initial stages of my grief.  After laying around for a couple of months, I was ready to get back in the Word.  And our study was EVERYTHING that I needed.  Again, God met me there and talked to me.  Directly to me.  And at the end of the study, I KNEW that I needed to get back on this computer.  So I did….once.  And then dropped back into my no Jesus routine. Just to be clear, I am fully aware that Jesus is always with me.  The Holy Spirit lives in me.  In Him, I live, move, and have my being.  But I was not fully on board with the living and moving.  I was more on board with the existing.  Until recently.  And I honestly cannot tell you what changed.  Actually, I can.  My willingness to be obedient to Him despite my feelings. If you hadn’t noticed, I am big on the emotions.  If you know me personally, you can probably hear my voice as you read these blogs.  You can add the inflections that I would use with each word.  Because I feel my feelings and when I’m really feeling my feelings, I want others to feel them too.  While I need to allow space to feel my feelings, I cannot continue to be RULED by them.  Because we all know that some of our feelings get us in BIG TROUBLE. And Lord knows, I have allowed my grief to get me in some hot water.  Not with people.  With God.  Each time I hear His voice and ignore Him, I am not only hurting myself but potentially other people.  I met a lady two years ago who shared her story with me and a bunch of other women at a conference.  Now, I don’t even know this lady’s name, but her testimony activated a series of events in my life that was literally life-changing.  She didn’t know me.  But she was obedient to the voice of God, and her obedience propelled my life in a completely unexpected direction. What if she just hadn’t felt like it that day?  What if she felt that her testimony was too personal to share with a room full of strangers?  What is she was too nervous to muster up the courage?  What if she was mad and just decided to push her products?  Where would I be? When I think about the people that have changed my life by being obedient to God, I am convicted.  And I am convinced.  While it will certainly not be easy every day, I know that I have to follow Christ.  And trust His voice.  #wepreach

Another school year has officially begun.  Kids have been placed in front of their homes or schools holding up signs that state their grade, favorite things, teacher’s name, and potential future occupations.  Parents have hugged and kissed their little angels and performed victory dances because schools have opened their doors once again.  We are ready for our new routines.  We are settling into our fall schedules.  Well…not all of us. My job affords me the opportunity to work with the great minds of tomorrow. Our child development center has kids that range in age from 6 weeks to five or six years of age.  And every year, I have to say goodbye to the big kids that are going off to kindergarten.  Instead of walking (or running) down our halls, they are setting foot in the big schools.  Occasionally, we have parents that choose to continue to bring their children for after-school therapy.  And that brings me to the point of this post. One of my small friends had his first week at big school.  He arrived at therapy full of energy after a long day.  Of course, I had to know how he liked his new school.  Was kindergarten fun?  Had he met new friends?  He looked me square in the face and declared, “Kindergarten is NOT awesome.”  Now listen, I was NOT expecting that response.  He was his usual bubbly self.  Laughs and giggles.  Silliness and joy.  I pushed him on the swings.  We read a story.  And I finally figured out why he wasn’t thrilled with his new situation.  Kindergarten pushed and challenged him in ways that he was not expecting. Now, I try my level best to prepare my friends for their transition.  We spend more time doing table-top activities.  We talk about changes they can expect.  I remind them that they are big kids.  I tell them that the little kids are looking at them to see how they should behave.  I encourage them to do their best and not give up easily when they are challenged.  And sometimes all of that is not enough.  Because as much as you try to prepare someone for a new level, as much as you try to push them, as much as you explain what’s coming, often times actually arriving there is the only way that they can understand what is expected of them. And I have so much in common with my little friend.  2021 has pushed and challenged me in ways that I could not have imagined.  The irony is that the Lord was preparing me for this year.  Tomica and I spent all of 2020 fasting for one week every month.  And every month, we would say that we didn’t know what God wanted from us, but we sure wanted Him to let us know.  I spent more time with my family in prayer.  We studied the Bible together every Sunday in Sunday School.  We discussed love, judgment, ministry, and purpose from a Biblical perspective.  Bible Study Brother accepted his call into the ministry.  We shared our testimonies with each other.  We leaned into God in a way that we had not done collectively before.  And I still was not ready for this next level.  2021 has NOT been awesome for me. But as I sit here and type this, I realize that in many ways 2021 has been a covered year for me.  2020 was a preparation.  A foundation.  And when the rug was snatched from underneath my feet, I had still had a Rock to stand on.  Yes, the rug was comfortable.  But as long as I have Jesus to stand on, all hope is not lost.  Even when I’m uncomfortable, I am standing on a firm foundation. If your day has not turned out the way that you wanted, know that a better day is coming.  If your best-laid plans got all twisted around, be assured that God turned you in a different direction for a good reason.  If your year has been full of disappointments, believe in the hope that has been set before you.  Even when our life’s kindergarten is NOT awesome, our God ALWAYS is.  #wepreach

Yahtzee!!!  The box says that it is a game of skill AND chance.  The box also says that it is fun for the entire family.  Most games probably make these same claims, but take my professional gaming opinion….the claims are true.  Well, Bible Study Mama and Brother might argue the “fun for the entire family” point, but don’t listen to them.  This game is a hoot and a holler. I have shared before that Bible Study Brother and I would spend our summers in St. Louis with our grandmother.  Those summers provided so many special memories and experiences.  We went to the library and the zoo.  We staked out our favorite spots at the swimming pool.  We ate enough pizza and ice cream to last us a lifetime.  And we played Yahtzee. Yahtzee is a really simple game.  The objective is to score the most points.  You place five dice in a cup and roll them out on the table.  This is where the chance part comes into play.  You have no way to predict how the dice will fall.  You get what you get, and you don’t pitch a fit.  Well…you could pitch a fit, but that is not going to be helpful.  Because now your skill must come to the forefront.  You have two additional rolls to match what is needed on your playing card. You can choose to throw all the dice back in the cup.  Or you can choose to keep some of the dice and roll the remaining dice to see if you can get what you need.  The element of chance is always a factor, but you have to gamble that the dice will roll in your favor.  That is the only way to win the game.  You choose as wisely as you can.  You play the hand that you are dealt and adjust as your turn progresses.   Decades had passed since we last played Yahtzee with my grandmother.  And although I did not want to celebrate my birthday in a traditional sense, I had a hankering to get down with some Yahtzee.  I tried to explain to my sister-in-law that Yahtzee was our thing, but I know she truly didn’t understand until the game was underway.  See, when we were kids my grandmother did not let us win to spare our feelings.  If we won, we won because we truly won.  So, this was a no holds barred showdown between adults.  The games were thrilling.  After months of being sad, I had some great big belly laughs.  My competitive nature came out in full force, and my grandmother’s competitive nature paraded in front of us all.  It was a thing of beauty to be in a safe place with my people.  Laughing and deciding how to play the hands that we were dealt. Isn’t it funny how a simple game can show you yourself?  In life, the dice fall in crazy and unexpected ways.  When the dice roll out in ways that we don’t like, we have to make a choice.  Sometimes, we pitch a fit.  It does not help the situation, but we may get some momentary relief from getting our frustration out.  Then we are still left with a choice.  Do we pick all the dice back up and roll again or leave some dice out with hopes of reaching our desired outcome?  Or do we stop playing the game because it is just not fair? Currently, I am playing the hand that I was dealt.  Even though it is not fair.  It is the only hand that I have.  This is where the skill comes in.  I hold on to my faith.  I hold on to my memories of my loved ones.  I hold on to the love that I have for them.  And other dice get tossed back in the cup.  I shake it up really hard and wait for the new dice to drop.  And I deal with whatever comes out of the cup.  Because I am a winner.  And I intend to do whatever it takes to score the most points.  #wepreach

It has been months since I last sat at this computer.  I walk by it daily.  It sits on the dining room table.  I glance at it while I am watching TV.  I wonder if I should close it up and put it in a drawer.  But then I realize that requires energy that I do not have.  So, it has occupied its home on the dining room table, and I have embraced my newfound love for my couch and my bed.  Until today. I did it.  I surrendered.  I obeyed the still, small voice that has been telling me to write for over a month.  I have spent a lot of time in quiet spaces lately, so I can’t say that it was too loud for me to hear God’s voice.  Even though His voice was still and small, I heard Him clearly.  I just chose to ignore Him.  I did not want to hear anything He had to say to me.  While it may sound extreme, it is my truth. He did not raise His voice.  Thunder did not roll.  Lightning did not flash.  He used my cat, Fitz.  As I was pushing myself up out of bed one morning, I felt something in the bed with me.  It was just a pen.  Weird because I had no recollection of bringing a pen to bed.  When I got fully out of the bed, I realized that it was not just one pen.  Literally, every pen that I had in my house was scattered around my bed.  Fitz had surrounded me with writing instruments.  I not only heard the voice of God, but I physically saw what He wanted from me.  Now anybody in their right mind would have run to the computer and started typing before the cat started talking, too.  I just showered, brushed my teeth, and went to work. He did not strike me down.  I woke up the next day.  And the day after that.  And the day after that.  And His voice was in my ear.  His words were right at the edge of my fingertips, but I was not lifting a finger to type.  Not then.  Not for Him. My grandma had a come to Jesus meeting with me.  She asked me if I could do her a favor.  She wanted me to start writing again.  She let me know that she frequently looked for a new blog, but nothing popped up.  I assured her that I would write again.  And I meant it, but I could not fathom the day that I would have anything to say.  I was not in a space where I had anything light and airy to talk about.  I did not want to share myself with the world.  I wanted to be alone with my thoughts and my sorrow.  But His voice was there, too.  Still and small. Bible Study Brother talked to me about my blogging.  He listened as I shared my reservations.  He did not interrupt when I told Him that I did not have many flowery words to say.  When I finished my spiel, he reminded me of a fundamental truth.  The Bible Study Girl blog is not about the pretty parts of my journey.  It encompasses ALL my journey.  And while the story is very ugly right now, it is indeed still my story.  And he said my story needs to be heard.  Of course, I still just walked by the computer every day.  And the good Lord probably shook His head but continued talking to me. Ya’ll know Bible Study Mama wore me out.  She started hounding me before the Holy Spirit did.  When was I going to start writing?  Was this the week?  What about this week?  My piercing stares and closed mouth were my typical answer.  Eventually, I generated a rote response that I would begin blogging again when the time was right.  Child, she wasn’t satisfied, and neither was the Holy Spirit.  But He did not holler.  Or set my house on fire or flatten my car tires.  He walked with me and talked with me.  Even though, I did NOT want to hear His voice. Why was I being so stubborn?  What was keeping me from doing what He asked of me?  I was angry.  And disappointed.  And so sad.  So incredibly sad.  Unbelievably sad.  And I don’t know what to do with that.  I did not want to drag other people through this valley with me.  Shoot, I don’t want to be in this valley.  But it is my current reality. I am not a fool.  Walking with Christ will have peaks and valleys.  Sunshine and rain.  Mourning and dancing.  It is one thing to know that intellectually and a completely different thing to live that out with grace.  But the key for me…the tipping point of my surrender…is that I know that I can only do it WITH Him by my side.  I can only make it out of the valley if I listen to His voice.  If I trust His guidance.  If I take His hand.  So, today I obeyed that still small voice, and I am trusting Him to walk me through this valley.  #wepreach

Resurrection Sunday is here. The day that we celebrate Jesus rising with all power in His hands. He has conquered death, Hell, and the grave. Death has no sting. The grave has no victory. Christ remains undefeated. And yet, I still struggle with grief and loss. Resurrection Sunday has always been a big deal in my family. We go to church and then we fellowship. We say our Easter speeches, celebrate Jesus in a mighty way, and then break bread together. Well, not just bread. Cakes, pies, macaroni and cheese, ham….. you get the picture. The kids hunt for eggs and cry when they don’t get the one with the money in it. The adults feel bad for the ones that are crying and slip them a couple of dollars. You know…. just your regular family get together. But this year is different. And not because of COVID. This year is different because we have had to say goodbye to so many loved ones. Breaking bread is not the same without their signature dishes. Fellowshiping is changed when their loud voices don’t echo around the house and across the yard. So my plan for this year was to shelter in place. Burrow under my covers like a mole. MAYBE watch church service through a peephole in my comfy blanket fort. Cry. Blow my nose. And repeat the cycle until the day was over. But God had different plans. Just yesterday, I was looking through a box at Tomica’s house. A box I hadn’t looked in before. But it was a box all about me. Pictures of the first four Resurrection Sundays of my life. Photos that I didn’t know existed. I know it’s not a coincidence that I stumbled upon them. The first photo was a picture of me sandwiched between Tomica (cheesing like there is no tomorrow while wearing her bunny ears), Kevin, and my uncle Michael (dedicated to looking as cool as humanly possible when hanging with the little kids). Definitely my first Resurrection Sunday on this earth. I had no clue what life would hold. Walking and talking but oblivious to the dangers that were around. I was surrounded by family. Making it by the grace of God. The same still holds true today. Even though I’m bereaved, I’m not forgotten. Even though I’m in a valley, I’m not alone. I’m surrounded by family. I’m making it by the grace of God. Resurrection Sunday is here. Death has no sting. The grave has no victory. Jesus Christ remains undefeated. #wepreach

Happy birthday Tomica! I love and miss you more than I can explain.

Uncle Blue. Tomica. Aunt Linda. Uncle Chauncey. 2021 came in like a wrecking ball. Four members of my family gone before I had a chance to catch my breath. Before I could begin to process one death, another one would be gone. And to top it all off, three of them were FAITHFUL members of my Sunday school class. Do you know how difficult it is to have faithful members of a Sunday school class??? While Uncle Blue didn’t join us on Zoom every Sunday, we weren’t worried about him or his soul’s salvation. He was the oldest living member of our family. And another example of a life well lived. If we visited him on a Sunday, we joined him at his church and interacted with his lively Sunday school class. The discussions were always interesting and engaging. His teacher and classmates weren’t stale. No, they dug into scripture and searched for the gold. Of course, my love for Uncle Blue extends far beyond his love for the Lord. He had a love for family that passed on to each of us. A true model of being the hands and feet of Christ on earth. A gracious host. Masterful pound cake maker. Passionate chess player. He put on his heavenly robe on January 1 and became an official member of heaven’s greeting committee. It makes sense that the most gracious host in the family would get there first. The day after Uncle Blue passed away, Tomica was admitted to the hospital. My grief was now compounded with worry. Not a great combination. My ability to sleep regularly became irregular. I would fall asleep early and then be awake after three hours for the rest of the night. My new pattern made me miss the last video call she made to me. I did not call her back during my restless night because I knew that she needed rest of her own. It bothers me. I think of it often. She finished the PowerPoint for Sunday school in her hospital bed. Of course, we argued about it but she was insistent. When Sunday school started, she messaged me to let her host. She wanted to take care of the behind the scenes while I taught. Instead of fighting her, I gave in. At the end of class, she turned her video on and flashed her signature smile from her hospital bed. We didn’t know that it would be her last Sunday school class. On January 7, her earthly shell said “enough is enough.” Uncle Blue, and the rest of the family that has gone on, greeted her in paradise. The very next day we went to Uncle Blue’s wake. The day after was his funeral. The day after that we jumped headfirst into planning Tomica’s homegoing celebration. And we wanted it to be a real celebration. So I funneled my grief into doing the best job that we could. Now in full disclosure, I get obsessed with details when planning a regular event. This was no regular event. But my mind was not working the way that I needed it to work. It’s hard to plan a celebration that you don’t want to plan. By God’s grace, we made it through Tomica’s funeral. I got straight into the business of grieving like I have never grieved before. I sunk way low. I skipped a couple of weeks of Sunday school and then I started back up. Onward Christian soldier. While laying on the floor one day, I decided that I needed to choose life. Not just be a human existing on the earth. I needed to get back to regular activity. I rallied the troops and called for our typical Saturday morning walk. February 6th was our first Saturday morning walk without Tomica. I had the BIGGEST lump in my throat as I pulled up to our spot. But I didn’t let myself cry. Because if I cried, I would not have been able to get myself together. We walked. We talked. We made it through. Even though we didn’t want to. And two hours later, the bottom of our bottom fell out. Aunt Linda joined that heavenly family reunion. I’m sure you can guess by now that our grief was in overdrive. All the energy that I mustered up for Tomica’s celebration was gone. My need to have my hands in everything disappeared. I did what was required. We all just wanted to make it through her celebration. And we did. And before we got home good from Aunt Linda’s funeral service, we got the call from the hospital that Uncle Chauncey had about an hour to live. So we had another Zoom meeting. Only this time, it wasn’t Sunday school. We sat up all night watching Uncle Chauncey. He made it waaay past an hour. He made it through the night. They were able to get dialysis started. I was ecstatic. This was the miracle I had been praying that God would perform. He was showing himself to be a way maker and miracle worker. What a great way to show His love on Valentine’s Day! We stayed on the Zoom all day. And right before Valentine’s Day was over, Uncle Chauncey decided to lay down the burdens of this world. He was on a ventilator when Aunt Linda went to glory, so I’m sure he was surprised to see her on the heavenly welcoming committee. My heart is heavy. While I know where they are, that does not mean that I don’t miss their presence. It does not mean that I am able to just move on. I am not okay right now. But I have also accepted the fact that that is okay. My therapist assured me that my struggles are valid. My emotions are normal. And God can handle it all. I surely need the Lord to handle it. I was pressuring myself to get back in the saddle. To start writing regularly. But I don’t have it right now. I use an incredible amount of energy getting through my work days. After spotty sleepless nights. I was really pressing myself to write a beautiful tribute to Tomica for her birthday tomorrow. The simple truth is that I can’t. And that’s okay too. Instead, I’m writing about the groundwork for the heavenly family reunion that has taken place. I had no hand in the planning. If I had, I would have vetoed the whole thing. I suppose that’s why God didn’t want my input. One day, I will be ready to go on with Sunday school. And I’m going to need new faithful members. I’m sure the Lord will send the right ones. He did a good job with the ones that I lost. #wepreach

I have had three whoopings in my life.  My Aunt Linda gave me one of them.  When you are as sweet as I was, they really are not necessary.  Ask my Aunt Gail.  She will tell you that I was the most well-behaved cousin in my generation.  I followed the rules.  And I also got EVERYTHING that I wanted.  No tantrums needed.  I asked.  They complied. My soul was crushed the day that Aunt Linda whooped me.  Did she not understand that I was a sweet angel?  Maybe the family hadn’t gone over the rule book with her.  But you do not whoop sweet angels.  I know she was frustrated with me.  And I was so mad at her.  I still remember it more than thirty years later. See, if you haven’t ever had a real whooping, you will not understand why I was so upset.  A real whooping causes you to sob.  Not cry.  No….when you get a real whooping, you do not immediately make a sound.  You are so shocked by the pain that you take a long drawn in breath.  Everybody around you knows what that means.  The only sound in the room is the whooping.  And people brace themselves for the cry that is going to come.  They KNOW it’s going to be loud. I know I sobbed on the day that she whooped me.  I felt betrayed.  If it takes a village to raise a child, my family took that sentiment to heart.  I was raised by a village and Aunt Linda was a big part of the village.  Her home was my home.  If she had something, that meant that I had it too.  She was a teacher at the daycare center that I attended.  When we were at the daycare center, I called her Ms. Sumpter.  When we were at home, I called her mom.  She never corrected me.  Because she was one of my moms. When Tomica died, we were all devastated.  Crushed.  Shocked.  Confused.  Handling business.  Making phone calls.  Trying to put the pieces back together.  I told her I would call her every day just like Tomica had.  Just to check in.  To see how she was doing.  To gossip about family.  Or even just to be quiet together in our grief.  Some days, she answered my calls.  Other days, she would not. My Aunt Linda was much like her daughter, Tomica.  Well actually, Tomica was much like Aunt Linda.  They did not often verbally say that they loved you.  They just showed you.  You knew.  I was leaving Aunt Linda’s house after Tomica died.  I made sure I was out of the room before I screamed, “I love you Aunt Linda!”  Her response was, “I heard you!”  Baby, I laughed so hard.  It still makes me smile. And I desperately need something to make me smile right now.  I retract my earlier statement.  I have had FOUR whoopings in my life.  Aunt Linda gave me TWO of them.  Right now, all you can hear is the whooping.  No sobbing.  But anybody in the room knows that it’s coming.  And it will be loud. I am happy that she is in the arms of the Lord.  I am glad that she received her reward.  I am thankful that she has her crown.  But I am also mad.  I feel betrayed.  And I am not sure what to do with those feelings.  No tantrum will get me what I want. I know I am supposed to give it to Jesus but what does that look like?  Real talk.  Right now, for me it means that I brush my teeth and wash my body every day.  I go to work when I can.  And repeat the day.  I have also been listening to a lot of gospel music.  One of the songs says, “The God of the mountain is still the God of the valley.”  I need that reminder.  Constantly.  I can’t wait for there to be glory AFTER this.  I need there to be glory right now.  If you have not chosen Jesus as your Savior, this moment is the BEST moment.  I know all too well that it might be the only moment that you have.  I cannot imagine being whipped like this and not having hope for better days.  #wepreach

Buckle up.  Now when you fall out of your seat, do not say that I did not warn you.  Actually, I can take that back.  You may not feel the same pull or tug when we review the sermon from Sunday.  But it was exactly the push that I needed.  Pastor continues to challenge us to make our mark on this world and provides practical ways for us to accomplish this task. Sunday’s sermon was pulled from Mark 1:29-31.  We pick up from where we left off in the previous sermon.  Jesus, Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John leave the synagogue and go to the house of Simon Peter and Andrew.  We learn that Simon’s mother-in-law is there laying ill with a fever.  They immediately tell Jesus about her condition, and Jesus does what He always does-heals, restores, and renews.  He takes her by the hand, lifts her up, and she begins to serve them.  Another miracle presented in a concise fashion.  And while it is definitely worthy of a shout, this moment is not what knocked me out of my seat and convicted me to do more and be more. Earlier in the chapter, we find Simon Peter and Andrew at work.  They are in the Sea of Galilee doing their do.  Casting nets.  Being fisherman.  As Jesus passes alongside them, He calls out to them and extends an invitation.  He beckons them to follow Him and become fishers of men.  The Bible says that immediately they left their nets and followed Jesus.  They put aside their livelihood and families to take up the cause of Christ.  And they did it immediately.  I did not read a verse that said that Simon Peter had a conference with his wife to weigh his options.  He did it immediately. James and John answer the call to Jesus in a similar fashion.  Jesus calls, and they put down their nets and follow Him.  If there is hesitation, it is not recorded.  Jesus calls.  They answer.  Not knowing the plan.  Unsure of provision.  But very confident in following the call of Christ. The word immediately pops up again when we read the story of Jesus in the synagogue.  Jesus immediately begins to teach in the synagogue on the Sabbath.  The urgency is palpable.  There is an energy in the air that is catching.  The man with the unclean spirit is set free.  Delivered.  Immediately. Here is MY shout.  The part that causes me to feel that tingle in my throat.  Simon Peter felt the urge to follow Jesus, and he did so immediately.  He left his job.  He left his family.  He left everything that he knew to venture into the unknown.  He was present in the synagogue when Jesus drove the unclean spirit out of the man.  And Jesus was present with Simon Peter when his mother-in-law had a need.  Jesus met that need immediately.  It goes both ways.  I cannot expect God to move urgently in my life when I drag my feet when it comes to accepting the many invitations that He offers me.  And He gives me so many invitations.  He continues to call me to follow Him into unknown territory.  I hem and haw.  I second guess.  I debate.  And I miss out on opportunities to walk side by side with Him.  If I got in a hurry about following Him, He would already be there when I encounter moments of my greatest need.  He would meet those needs immediately. We need to stop dragging our feet and get in a real hurry about following Jesus.  Lord knows that I have had moments that have knocked the wind out of me lately.  Moments that make me side-eye walking and rely on a crawl.  And even in those moments, I am aware that Jesus is with me.  With His hands outstretched.  Inviting me to follow Him.  Immediately. #wepreach

What is your idea of a good time?  Your answer will reveal much about where you are spiritually in life.  For most of us, a good time consists of laughter and joy.  Smiles and sunshine.  The lighter side of life.  Our study of the book of Mark challenges our concept of a good time.  Let’s go ahead and dive into the sermon recap. Sunday’s sermon came from Mark 1:21-28.  Jesus is in the synagogue in Capernaum teaching.  I would say that this would qualify as a good time in church.  A good old preacher astonishing the crowd.  Making mouths drop open as He spoke with authority.  And then…there is an interruption.  Now, you may be different from me.  I am not a fan of interruptions.  Especially when I am in the middle of what I consider to be a good time.  At this point in the service, eyes shifted from Jesus to the man in the synagogue who cried out. This was not an “amen” or a “hallelujah.”  No.  This man was sitting in the synagogue with an unclean spirit.  And as Jesus taught, the unclean spirit could not hold its peace.  In the presence of Jesus, it had no choice but to acknowledge Jesus for who He was- fully man and fully God.  The spirit knew that Jesus had the power to back up the words that He was saying.  So, it cried out and asked Jesus what He intended to do.  It wanted to know if Jesus had come to destroy it. And for many people, this interruption in church would be the ultimate squasher of a good time.  But this interruption IS a good time.  It is an illustration of chronos (regular order of time, days, weeks, month, etc.) colliding with kairos (an appointed time).  Simply put, it is the intersection of our plans meeting with God’s divine plans.  We could plan every second of our lives.  We could have it all lined out perfectly.  But we have not truly had a good time until our plans meet head on with God’s plans. God’s plan for the man sitting in the synagogue with the unclean spirit was quickly revealed.  Jesus commanded the spirit to be quiet AND come out of the man.  While it would have been easy to hush that unclean spirit and continue on with His teaching, Jesus wanted more for the man.  Too many times, we want to smooth over people’s infirmities.  We are comfortable with them sitting in church, sick to death, as long as they are quiet about it.  As long as they don’t interrupt the flow of service.  As long as they do not mess up our good time.  Clearly, we are in the wrong.  We should not just hush the demons that people struggle with.  We should be like Jesus and cast them out.  Then we will have a better understanding of a good time. Jesus came so that we can have life and life more abundantly.  He wants us to have a good time.  But this requires us to shift our thinking towards His thinking.  Good times are not all smiles and giggles.  They are not all sunshine and sweet.  Good times are the times that grow us.  Good times are the times that God uses to make us into who He created us to be.  And often, the best times of our lives are a result of our feeble plans and timelines ramming into God’s Holy and divine timing.  #wepreach

I’m back! Kind of. My sleepless nights have left me with plenty of time to think about Tomica and the many fun times that we had together. EVERY day Facebook pops up memories and sends me down a trail. But Facebook didn’t have to prompt my memories today. I think of these memories every time the news is on. They send me back to eight years ago when we attended President Obama’s second inauguration. When I said I wanted to go to the inauguration, my ride or die travel buddies were all in. We researched and found a hotel that fit our budget. We always ball on a budget. And in the spirit of good budgeting, we decided to drive 15 hours there with no breaks. I always get the early morning shift whenever we are driving somewhere because I’m a morning person. The driver chooses the music. That’s just the rule. Baby, I sang myself happy while the people in my car slept. Well, I thought they were asleep. Then I heard Tomica say, “I guess you trying to take us to the king with Tamala huh?” When everyone in the car really woke up for the day, Tomica decided that we needed to play “Name That Tune.” Music was her passion. She could talk about it for hours. She loved a wide variety of music. Not so for me. I can tell you about gospel music and R&B songs from the 90’s and early 2000’s and that’s about it. She would play a bit of the song and then be dumbfounded when I didn’t know what it was. We made it to D.C. in no time. And immediately got caught up in the vibe of the city. There was a joyous spirit in the air, and it was contagious. We were there to be a part of history. Even though there were massive crowds, people were courteous and polite. No pushing or shoving. Just lots of smiles and laughter. We enjoyed going to the monuments. We had a blast using the subway to maneuver through the city. On the actual day of the inauguration, we had to be up and out before the sun even peeked its head out. We bundled up to protect ourselves from the cold. Thermals, sweaters, gloves, headwraps, winter coats, scarves, and heating pads. We left no room for even an inch of cold. We were on our feet in the cold for hours and did not complain. We were just glad to be there. It was a dream fulfilled. Now I am trying to take that same joy and drive into my everyday life. And it’s difficult. While I am so happy that Tomica has gone from labor to reward, I have to build new dreams and a life that does not have her in it. Before you say that she’s with me in spirit, I get that. I hear her voice all the time. But I miss her presence. And her help. We functioned like a fine tuned machine. Looks like you get to travel with me through this journey. This trip that I never planned. And I suppose that you get to be my new ride or die travel buddies since one of my buddies actually died. I can already tell that this is going to be a long ride. I’m just hoping that we get some good laughs along the way. That the joy in the atmosphere is contagious. And that when we reach the end of this journey that it is a dream fulfilled. #wepreach

It is no coincidence that the sermon series for 2021 is about “Making Your Mark.” It is a call to action that is catchy and concise. You can guess that Pastor will discuss how we can make an impact on this world as Christians. Tomica loves the Lord, and ESPECIALLY loves a challenge, so I guess she decided to go all in. When Ari called me Thursday morning, I KNEW. First of all, Ari rarely has her phone around. I usually text her AND Devin if I want something. It’s just more efficient. And secondly, it was 8 in the morning and Ari rarely calls me. When I heard her voice, my heart dropped into my stomach. I sat there in my car with my work bag. Now, I know I wasn’t in my right mind because I thought to myself that I should just go ahead and drive to work. I would deal with this later. Bible Study Mama called me while I was sitting in my driveway. She told me she was on the way. She told me not to move. So, I did not move. I sat in my car. I did not know what to do. When she pulled up, the song “Strong God” was playing on the radio. And I thought we certainly need a strong God right now. Understanding medical terminology is a blessing and a curse. The intellectual side of me knew that she was gone but that spiritual side was not backing down. So, we sat in a family room at the hospital. Talking….sometimes quiet……just waiting. Silently praying. Hoping. Wishing. Begging. And then the doctor came in and made it plain. Brain dead. Clinically dead. She’s gone. But they still had to do one more test to determine if there was any blood flow to the brain. Y’all know that spiritual side kicked in and I got super deep. I thought “Man, Tomica testimony is about to be LIT!” See, me and her had been praying to see miracles, signs, and wonders all 2020. I was CONVINCED that they were going to come in and say they were wrong. I was CONVINCED that they would say that they had never seen a turn around like hers. I was wrong. They said that she is gone. My entire body was shaking. I felt like I wasn’t even in my body. They felt so bad for us. Tomica is young and looks even younger in the face. They gave us grace in COVID times and allowed us to see her, touch her, talk to her before they removed the tubes. I did not go back there. I could not go back there. She is gone. The person I do life with is gone. That’s her shell. Now, I need you to know that Tomica is not one for screaming and hollering when people pass away. Tears are fine but even then she’d side eye you if you got carried away. If she saw how I acted at the hospital, she would have cursed me out. I did not have control of my body. One thing, I knew for certain was that I could not do this. Yet, here I am today. Breathing. And thinking about the numerous ways that Tomica makes her mark. I read Facebook posts from friends about her smile, laugh, and infectious spirit. I look at pictures and videos of her all day. They make me laugh. They make me cry. They just keep making a mark. Baby, she didn’t play about life. She truly lived it. Her joy for life is infectious. Her giving spirit is catching. Her loud and bold love for Christ is unmatched. And if you spent any amount of time around her, you felt that. She made her mark on the world, and it will never be the same. Will people say the same about you when you go? Will your love for Christ leave a mark on people everywhere you go? Or will bitterness, sadness, and strife be the naked marks that you leave behind? This is not a game. We do not get a second chance or do over when our time is up. If you have not accepted Jesus as your personal Savior, today is a good day to do it. Tomica rests with the angels. Well, actually I don’t see her resting. I see her working. Praising God. Talking with Daniel about that fast. Asking Job how he did it. Really asking ALL the questions because that girl stays asking questions. I see her experiencing the love of Jesus in a new way. I bet she didn’t push away His embrace. Her testimony is LIT. Even without the miracle that I wanted. She left here empty and having completed all that God wanted her to do. She made her mark. #wepreach

Typically sleeping is my superpower. No matter what is going on in my world, my body has the ability to power down at night and sleep. And that is still true. Only now, I wake up way before the sun and just stare into the darkness. During my quiet time, I found myself getting hungry. Although I had purchased the ingredients to make my crockpot chili, I had not mustered up the energy to get into the kitchen. Well, since I was up before the sun, I decided to roll into kitchen and get my hands dirty. Keeping my hands busy was comforting. I diced, sautéed, and stirred. I tasted. I watched my concoction begin to simmer and transferred it to the crockpot. After a long day, I finally made it home. Before I even opened the door, I could smell the chili. What an awesome aroma to come home to. A welcoming aroma. A bright spot in a crazy and dark day. I am hoping that the tides turn soon. Until then, I will find comfort in the small moments. #wepreach

The grandfather of all zits is currently residing between my lower lip and my chin. He staked a claim exactly at the midway point. Thankfully, I wear a mask all day at work so no one can see this guy. He is an unwanted and unexpected visitor. Well, at this point, he seems to have taken out a lease on the landscape of my face. He is kind of determined to stand his ground. Now when I was a teenager, breakouts were common. A mixture of stress, hormones, poor eating habits, and greasy bangs contributed to my dalliances in pimple town. I had to learn to lay off of the hair grease just a tad. I had to learn to drink more water. Make better food choices. While my skin was not flawless, it did get to a better place. But whenever I am especially stressed, this bad boy makes his presence known. He rises slowly from my pores. And I know I am to blame for his extended stay. Because I pick and pick at him. My fingers dance around him and just cannot resist pulling and tugging. Enough of the gross stuff. I need to leave this monster zit alone. Or it won’t ever heal. And I need it to heal. That requires some work from me. I need to make sure that my skin is clean and then stop picking at my wound. Not picking at things is not my strong suit. I will wear things into the ground. I love to analyze my decisions. Go over them backwards and forwards. But this one just needs to be left alone. This is not my first battle with an unsightly eruption. It very well may not be my last. But I am determined to handle them better each time they occur. <sigh> Guess, I’ll go wash my face and my nasty hands. #wepreach

This blog is about being transparent. At least it is for me. And in all transparency, I am not okay right now. A functioning member of adult society? Yes. Okay? No. But in the spirit of being a functioning member of adult society, I had to take a trip to the grocery store to get food. Since I was only picking up the bare necessities for my week, I wanted one of those smaller shopping carts. For one thing, they are cute. And I figured it would stop me from going overboard with the impulse snack purchases. When I rounded the corner, I was delighted to see that there were tons of the small cart available. Usually, there are only one or two. As I started to push my little cart away, I noticed that one of the wheels was misshapen. The cart bounced and I had to put in a little extra effort to keep it going. No problem. Plenty to choose from. The next cart was even more off balance. Carts three and four seemed to have a locked wheel. Did I mention that I am not okay right now? Okay. Let me finish my story. As I am debating internally about just pushing this crazy cart four, a man walks in, grabs the next small cart, and is off without a hitch. His cart is sailing along like it just came off the assembly line. At that moment, I decided that I was not pushing cart four around. I wanted a smooth ride too! I pried apart two carts and gave one a tentative push. No issues. I walked a little further to be sure. Yup. This guy was a keeper. I am sure that the cashiers in the grocery store probably thought I looked crazy. I mean, let’s face it, I DID look crazy. I was so close to just settling for a good enough cart. I did not need it for much. I was already not feeling my best. But seeing someone walk around with a grade A cart triggered something in me. I do not have to push around every battered and lopsided cart. While I cannot choose everything that life throws my way, I can be intentional with the choices that ARE entirely in my hands. Like that cart. I pray that you get premium parking and short waits in checkout lines. I pray your shopping carts roll smoothly down the aisles. And I pray that you find reasons to be grateful even when you are not okay. #wepreach

The first Sunday of the new year has rolled in. Dripping with promise. Untapped potential. The year is wide open. Many of us are gun shy on decreeing and declaring what the year will hold. 2020 met us with unusual circumstances so our hesitancy is understandable. But on this first Sunday of 2021, I logged off with a little more hope. Pastor introduced the sermon series for 2021. This year will focus on “Making Your Mark.” We will journey through the book of Mark and study the life of Jesus. Ultimately, the hope is that we gain valuable insight on how to live our lives by studying His. Now traditionally, I try to do a general overview of the sermon. I want to give folks a great Cliff Notes version of everything that went down. But today is different. Many great points were brought to life, but one hit differently for me. If you feel cheated, you can mosey on over to St. Luke Missionary Baptist Church’s Facebook or YouTube page and watch the sermon for yourself. Ready for that one point? Good. Pastor drove home the point that your new beginning puts you in prime position for an unexpected comeback. Now if you just look at Mark 1:1-8, which is the text used for the sermon, you will likely miss the power of the unexpected comeback. Pastor filled us in on Mark’s back story. And what a back story it is. We get glimpses of Mark’s early life in the book of Acts. He is the son of Mary. Mary is like many mothers of yesteryear. The early church, the newly formed Christian community, meets often in her house. In one instance, many of the members are gathered together there praying. They have met and are one accord petitioning God to free Peter from jail. As they begin their prayer, Peter is already at the door. Their prayers are answered instantly. Mark has a front row seat to God’s almighty power. Paul (still rocking with the name Saul at this point) and Barnabas evidently see potential in Mark. Mark goes with them on the mission field. And then things get hairy. Maybe he saw how difficult the mission field can be. Maybe he got tired of the travel. He might have just been homesick. For whatever reason, Mark quit and returned home. But his story is not over. Because the Mark that quit the mission field is the same Mark that pens the gospel of Mark. He is the first to sit down and write out the story of the life of Jesus. As he sits, he writes, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Did you catch that? His new beginning and unexpected comeback are focused on the beginning of new life for us all, Jesus Christ. Now, I have been in church for all my life and did not have an understanding of many people’s stories. Within the last year and a half, I have become utterly fascinated. See, the folks in the Bible have moved from being Bible greats and untouchables to being real people with real lives. That has drastically changed my relationship with God and my understanding of what He really can do with a life that is yielded to Him. We all fall short. And at times, we give up on the work of the Lord. Listen, the mission field is not for the faint of heart. And let’s be honest. Most of the time we go out there not even dressed for battle. Forget the full armor of God. Many days we are doing good to have one piece of protection. Mark’s unexpected comeback is a reminder that we can have new beginnings. Even if we have walked away. #wepreach

When life gives you lemons, what do YOU do with them? Some folks make lemonade. Others frown at the lemons. Some reject them. Stomp them as they are rolling around on the ground. And then there are the really special folks. You may know these special folks. When life hands them lemons, they get busy. They make lemonade. Lemon meringue pie. Homemade salad dressing. Facial tonics. They zest the rind and use it in icing. And then try to find other uses for the remainder of the lemons. No part left behind. Life has handed me some lemons in 2021. I know that we are only three days in. Trust me…I am fully aware. And now, I have to decide what kind of person I am going to be. Am I a frowner? A rejecter? A good temper tantrum maker? Or can I count myself as one of those special folks? The reality is that at times I am all of those folks. But I find it hard to continually speak of God’s goodness and grace and remain a frowner, rejecter, or tantrum maker. I want to be one of those special folks. I want to take whatever God allows in my life and use it until there is nothing left. I want to take the bitter and make it better. Listen, I have not pulled out the grater to start zesting the lemons, but I also have not thrown them. I am holding them in my hands and looking in my recipe book to see what they can become. The possibilities are endless. #wepreach

When you are raised in the church, New Year’s Eve is not New Year’s Eve without a watch meeting. We gather together to bring in the new year with praise. We thank God for all that He has done. We celebrate the fact that we have arrived at the beginning of a new year with brand new mercies. The pandemic has altered the way that we gather together but we were still able to meet through the wonders of technology. Pastor challenged us to assess ourselves before we left 2020 behind. Ready for the FIRST sermon recap of 2021? Well, ready or not, here it is. 1 Corinthians 16: 5-9 is a portion of a letter that Paul wrote. While the words penned here were not part of a sermon from him, they certainly preach. Paul shares his personal plans. He has lots of them. But then he adds an important clause…if the Lord permits. Paul, the one anointed on a Damascus road, the one who lives a life that is sold out for Christ. That Paul. He was humble enought to admit that His plans may not line up with what God had planned for him. He left room for a change of plans. He recognized that God’s plans would always surpass his own. If 2020 has taught us nothing else, we should be able to make adjustsments when we realize that God has shifted His direction. Paul does not stop there. He shares the struggle and joy of ministry. During his time ministering in this region, he has faced many adversaries. But his outlook is not like many of ours. He sees that God has opened great and effective doors to him in the face of his adversaries. He recognizes that problems and progress are a package deal. The great opposition that he faces is just an indication that he is doing a great work in the kingdom. He embraces the opportunities to minister in spite of. He does not run in the opposite direction. Before I run out of 2020, have I fully realized that my problems have grown me? Paul realizes that his struggles are an opportunity to showcase Jesus in a positive life. He has the chance to make the name of Jesus great. His response to adversity is one of the most effective forms of ministry. While people will listen to what we say, they are always watching what we do. They want to see how we respond. Will our walk match our talk? Could others look at the way that I handled 2020 and see Jesus clearly? Did I lift Him up more than I lifted up my problems? We have been blessed to make it to a new year. But before we dismiss 2020 and write it off, we should be sure that we have learned all the lessons that we were meant to learn. I do not know about ya’ll but that was a test that I do not want to have to retake. #wepreach

How are you spending the last day of 2020? When I was in my teens and early 20’s, my friend and I had a yearly ritual. We always sat down to recap the events that had taken place in the last year. Without fail, we would be amazed at what had happened in just 365 days. Sometimes, we would write down things that we wanted to leave in that year, and then we would burn them. (I been deep and grown for a long time…LOL) While we no longer sit down together and go over the year’s events, I still do it with myself. This year, I decided to put a spin on it. I wanted to compile a list of some of the lessons that I learned in 2020. Since you’re here, I will let you take a peek. There is a difference between a need and a want. I may not have gotten everything I wanted BUT I received MORE than I needed. Podcasting is actually fun. Once you get the hang of it. Technology is always evolving which means that I need to stay on top of it and stop acting like I am 95. Stepping outside of my comfort zone continues to take me to higher levels. Black lives matter…to me at least. Sadly, they do not matter to everyone. I took all the time that I spent with my family for granted. Not anymore. Cats are weird. So are cat owners. Me and Fitz are weird. God specializes in the impossible. I have heard it my whole life and could quote it with no hesitation. But 2020 allowed me to experience it personally many times over. I am loved. By many people. In many different places. As much as I plan, the only plan that matters is God’s plan for my life. The list could go on forever, but ya’ll do not need to know ALL my business. I hope and pray that you have positive things to reflect on as 2020 comes to a close. Until next year good people. #wepreach

Ummmmm…someone come check on Fitz the cat. He is currently nestled in his carrier case staring at me. He is waiting on a ride…to my mom’s house. <cue dramatic music> If you have not ever read the blog, then you have no clue that Bible Study Mama is not a big fan of Fitz. I have mentioned before that I had not ever pictured myself being a cat owner. I come from a dog family. Before I adopted Fitz, I consulted the cat owners that I knew. One in particular told me that I needed to make sure that I did not only pull out his carrier when it was time to go to the vet. They warned me to make it part of his regular interactions or I would have difficulty getting him inside when I needed to. I followed their advice. He does not freak out when I grab the carrier because he sees it all the time. He saves the crying for the actual ride. He happily hops out once we arrive at Bible Study Mama’s house. But he has a time limit on how long we will stay. When he is ready to go home, he hops in his carrier and stares at me…intently. Fitz and I stayed at Bible Study Mama’s house during Christmas weekend. He frolicked on her carpet and took luxurious naps in the sun rays that landed on her wood floors. He leaped from under the bed and grabbed ankles. He thoroughly enjoyed himself. Every day, he would hop in his carrier and stare at me, but I just ignored him. Eventually, he would climb out and find mischief to get into. At the end of the holiday, we came home. I unloaded the car and settled in. Now I told you that the carrier is always available and open. It is always sitting around. But until today, he has never sat in it and waited intently to leave the house. That is why I said that ya’ll might need to check on this cat. Our home is his domain. I guess all the time with Bible Study Mama made him miss what her home had to offer. It would not be biblestudygirl.com if I did not see myself in the story. Fitz is just like me. I always have access to good Word that can take me to new places, but I choose not to access it. Until I am uncomfortable. Until I want things to go back to how they used to be. Then I will sit in the Word. I will be intent with the Word. And just like my cat, I have found that places that used to seem strange and foreign are actually enjoyable. And when I go back to what used to be comfortable, I find myself drawn to that experience that I just had. It is a reminder to me to continue to study intently. To sit in His Word and not take it for granted. It is also a reminder that my cat is just weird. #wepreach

Life is so unpredictable. Typically when people say that they are referring to sad moments. Dark times. The icky parts of life. But tonight, I had an unpredictable moment that put a smile on my face. And it was very timely. See, it had been one of those days where I was getting hit with one issue after another. You know the unpleasant unpredictable things. After playing phone tag with a variety of people, I realized that it was getting late in the evening. I still had not prepared dinner. I rolled off the couch and opened the pantry to see what I could rustle up. Voila! I had potatoes. (No surprise really. I keep potatoes because baked potatoes are an easy and filling meal.) I reached in the bag and pulled out a potato. And at that point, I was truly surprised. In my hand was a potato that was shaped like a heart. Now, you may look over it. But you have not had the day that I was walking through. And in a potato bag in the pantry, I found a reminder that I am loved and cared for. Good, bad. Happy, sad. Every unpredictable moment is not bad. I am thankful that I can see God in the midst of a typical day. I am grateful that I am not so jaded that I cannot find joy in sad times. My prayer for you today is that you see God’s hand in those unpredictable moments. I pray that God’s love for you puts a smile on your face. If He can make the rocks cry out, He can surely use a potato too. #wepreach

Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:1-2 I would not classify myself as a runner. Not even a little bit. I am a walker. I like to mosey along and check out the scenery when I am exercising. Nothing too extreme. Sunday’s sermon reminded me that although I do not classify myself as a runner, I really am. God has purposed me to run a race that was tailor-made for me. Our lives resemble marathons. Specially crafted marathons because all of our routes are different. Often it is difficult for us to run our own races because we are looking at how everyone else is doing. We may start out running alongside someone and eventually see their path curve. Their way seems fun. Their way seems interesting. Their way seems intriguing, and they are flourishing. We keep our eyes so focused on them that we try to keep up with them. But that is not our race. They are not doing anything wrong. We are. We can’t rise up and stay up when we are trying to run someone else’s race. We were also reminded to lay aside any weights that would slow us down on our journey. Listen, I am a big girl. I used to frown at weight lifting. I figured that I had enough body mass. I did not need to lift or pull any extra weights in the name of fitness. I learned differently when I started strength training. As my muscles grew, my body began to shift and change. I lost fat and gained strength. Now the same weights that have helped to shape me would slow me down if I tried to hold on to them while running a marathon. This reminds me that I need to keep everything and everyone in their proper position. It is a call to prioritize so that I can finish what I started. We spent many weeks being pumped and prodded to “Rise Up.” Now that the campaign has ended real life has set in. We are transitioning from rising up to staying up. And most often staying up is the most challenging. Because it is a life long task. With no days off. It requires endurance. It requires stamina. And it certainly requires Jesus. Our only hope to stay up is to keep our eyes fixed on Him. We can do that through Bible study. We can do that through prayer and meditation. The most important thing is that we have to do it. #wepreach

Whew! We made it to the last Sunday of 2020. When the first Sunday of the year arrived, I was bright eyed and bushy tailed. It was all about 20/20 vision. I had so much excitement. I just knew that this year was going to be a year of triumph for me. And it was. Just not in the way that I expected. When March rolled around, the world changed for all of us. Although COVID-19 had been on the scene for months, new panic and concern stepped in. Businesses were closed and so were the doors of the church. Well, the physical doors of the church were closed. We moved from meeting in person every Sunday to worshipping together virtually. Most churches were not prepared for the new way that we have had to operate. We spent most of the year adjusting to our new normal. Our living rooms and bedrooms became personal sanctuaries. Many of us traded fancy outfits for pajamas. I am sure that there are people that take the time to get dressed, but I quickly adapted to worship in my pajamas. I adjusted to teaching Sunday school from my dining room table. I embraced streaming our Sunday and Wednesday services online. Although I had no clue what was in store for my life in 2020, the good Lord did. And I am glad that He did not give me a preview. I would have resisted it every step of the way. When you do not know what to expect, when you cannot see your way, you have no choice except to hold tightly to the hand that can guide you through. God has led me through all these Sundays in 2020. And I am a better person because of it. I am entering the last Sunday of the year with greater peace, compassion, and more willingness to lay down my desires and pick up what the Lord has for me. As you reflect on the Sundays that you have experienced in 2020, I pray that you find yourself in a better position than you did when the year began. I pray that you too experience greater peace, compassion, and a willingness to pick up your cross (whatever that may be). #wepreach

It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old, From angels bending near the earth, To touch their harps of gold: “Peace on earth, goodwill to men, From heaven’s all-gracious King.” The world in solemn stillness lay, to hear the angels sing. It Came Upon the Midnight Clear, Edmund Sears Merry Christmas! Country shepherds were out in field minding the business that paid them. Quite literally. They were tending to their flocks of sheep. When out of nowhere, an angel of the Lord stood before them. A majestic sight and unlike anything they had ever seen before. Their natural reaction was to be afraid. The angel assured them that they should not be afraid. He was bringing good news. Good tidings of great joy. Christ the Lord was born. The angel didn’t arrive empty-handed. After his announcement, the heavenly choir appeared to begin their “A” and “B” selections. They sang with exuberance. They sang with glee. The King of Kings, Immanuel, our Savior had made his earthly appearance. While today could easily be a day that we get wrapped up in minding our business, we should remember the reason that we celebrate. We should have a song in our hearts and on our lips. #wepreach For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government will be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring not even a mouse….actually, I need to tell that to whatever creature is lumbering around my attic. They did not get the memo. Strange roommates aside, it truly is Christmas Eve. When I was a kid, we always got to open one present on Christmas Eve. We generally opened a smaller gift. Some years, it was videotapes or new pajamas. Or books. Or videogames. No matter the present, they always wet our whistle for the main attraction. When we unwrapped the gift, it really gave us a preview of the wonders that awaited us on Christmas Day. And so it is with King Jesus. Prophecy foretold of His arrival for centuries. Of course, we were small sighted. Our perception of who Jesus was and how He would operate was not in line with His ultimate mission. The children of Israel could not even begin to comprehend what was in store when Jesus was born. I am grateful that I am not still waiting for Him to arrive. Every day I am granted brand new grace and mercy. Every day I am a recipient of unmerited favor. Christmas Eve is a wonderful time of year to reflect on the gift of Jesus. It is also a great time to share the gift of a life surrendered to Jesus with others. Many of us have accepted the gift that Jesus gave us. We have experienced the wonders. Today, offer Him to those who have not yet received His offer. #wepreach

I come from a poor family.  We didn’t have much.  But the Laaaaawd’s been good to me.  Now those are lyrics from a song, but they really are my testimony.  As I sit and think about Christmas from over 30 years ago, I can see how much the good Lord has blessed me and my family. Back in those days, we had some steadfast traditions that revolved around food.  You should know by now that I have a billion food related memories.  Christmas baking holds a special place in my heart.  My great-grandmother would be on a roll.  She would bake and bake.  The top of the deep freezer would be lined with sweet treats.  But the food did not stop there. Every winter, there would be a glass bowl on the coffee table in the living room.  In it would be apples, oranges, and nuts.  Not shelled nuts either.  The nuts that you would need to use a metal nutcracker to eat.  The nutcracker would be displayed on the table as well.  Of course, the food was not there for show.  It was there for eating.  I wanted nuts all the time because I wanted to use the nutcracker. We would all gather together in my great-grandmother’s house.  Her living room was not that big.  Please keep in mind that my family is big in body and size.  And yet somehow, we would all fit in that house on Christmas day.  I really wish that I had footage of us from those years.  I still do not understand how we all packed in there at the same time.  I never felt crowded.  It all felt just right. We would exchange gifts.  We would laugh.  And let’s be real.  We ate!  My life was simple.  My life was full.  I had more than I could have ever imagined.  I was so content.  I was more than content actually.  I was happy and thankful for the time that I spent with my family.  The joy that I felt every Christmas easily made Christmas my favorite time of the year. If I am honest, as time has passed, Christmas lost some of that razzle dazzle for me.  Except this year has truly been different.  I have more excitement.  I have more deep-down joy.  The material gifts pale in comparison to the gifts that the good Lord has blessed me with in 2020.  Especially when I think back over thirty years ago and picture my family squished together in a small living room having the time of our lives.  Christmas will look different.  This year we will be squished in our individual boxes on a Zoom.  But I am so thankful that we will be able to even have that.  I come from a poor family.  We did not have much.  But the Lord has been good to us.  #wepreach

Is that the sound of Santa’s reindeer on my roof?!?!  Nah…it’s just some creature that is seeking refuge from the cold in my attic.  As long as he stays up there and I stay down here, things will be A-okay!  Speaking of Santa and reindeer, I would like to tell you a little story about myself.  Do you have time?  Great! I was always an inquisitive kid.  It was very important to me to try and make sense of the world.  I read everything that I could get my hands on.  And I do mean everything.  Notes were not safe around me.  Bible Study Mama caught on to my habit of reading her notes very quickly.  She converted to cursive.  Which only increased the speed with which I learned cursive.  I think you get the point.  I just had lots of questions. Bible Study Mama was incredibly busy.  She worked all the time.  One day, I lost a tooth.  I was mulling over the whole Tooth Fairy story.  It just did not make sense to me.  While my mom was using the restroom, I barged in.  (Clearly moms do NOT need alone time.  Listen I had pressing questions.)  I looked her in the eyes and asked her to tell me the truth.  Was the Tooth Fairy real?  With no hesitation, she said no and told me that I could collect the money for my tooth from the dresser.  I was relieved that she was honest with me.  I ran to get my money, and on my way there, I had another thought.  I barged back into the bathroom and said, “What about Santa?”  Her answer confirmed what I was thinking all along.  I left that day feeling empowered.  I am sure she was just glad to have a moment of silence. What is amazing in all my questioning is that I did not question if God was real.  I clearly remember standing outside in the country one day and just KNOWING that I belonged to Him.  No doubt about it.  I had childlike faith in a God that I could not see or explain.  The older I got, the more the story of Christ’s birth filled my heart with wonder.  Of course, I had questions.  I am a questioner by nature.  But God gave me peace and certainty the more that I searched for truth. I am grateful that I serve a true and living God.  I am grateful that each time I have a question He answers with no hesitation.  As we draw closer to Christmas, my prayer is that your heart is filled with wonder.  I pray that you draw closer to Christ.  #wepreach

We have reached the end of the Rise Up campaign.  The weeks have flown by, and I have learned so much.  Hearing the final sermon of the series in person made it that much more impactful.  Enough lollygagging.  We need to peel back the layers of the final chapter. Nehemiah 13 reveals people that are much like you and me.  They have put in the work to be better.  They have listened to God’s word.  They have praised.  They have promised.  They have dedicated the walls and their lives to the service of the Lord.  And then by chapter 13, they have moonwalked back into their old ways.  Well, not entirely back.  But they have definitely regressed. Many chapters ago, they promised the Lord that they would separate themselves from the foreigners.  They would remain a holy people living holy lives.  As chapter 13 opens, we see that their stance on remaining separate has been altered.  They have allowed Tobiah, a foreigner, to move into the storeroom of the temple that was supposed to keep their grain offerings.  The grain offerings were essentially their tithes.  Why was the room empty?  Great question. Not only were they mingling with foreigners, they also had neglected to bring their tithes to the church.  The Levites were supported by the tithes that other Israelites brought to the church.  Since the children of Israel were not supporting the Levites, the Levites had to go out and tend to their own crops.  They needed food to survive.  Their ability to attend to their calling was greatly diminished.  Clearly, the thrill of the constructed walls and fulfilled promises had slowly dwindled for the children of Israel.  They were too caught up in everyday life to support the Levites and the temple.  Now an empty room at the temple was able to be filled by someone that had no place there. We know that the children of Israel are not in this predicament alone.  This has been a great series full of challenges.  When that fresh sermon hits on Sunday, I am determined and committed to change.  Child, by noon on Monday, I can be saying forget it all!  When life gets serious and we are not floating on a high from a good word, it can be extremely difficult to remain committed to living holy lives.  That is normal.  That is natural.  Since we know that it will happen, we have to take steps to keep ourselves on fire for the Lord. Accountability goes a long way.  Over and over again, we have heard that it is much easier to live a holy life when you are connected to a community of believers.  See, being surrounded by believers is not a sentence to a boring life.  It is an opportunity to have God fearing people in your life that can help give you clarity when you are struggling. You will be more likely to keep your word if you are doing life with people that have made the same commitments. Our journey through Nehemiah was a roller coaster.  Honey, we went up, down, and all around.  But in the end, I saw people that were very much like me.  They had the opportunity to live life differently.  They had the chance to make better choices.  And they did.  Yes, they fell down and missed the mark, but Nehemiah helped them remove the traces of their dance with foreigners from the temple.  The Levites were able to resume their duties.  The children of Israel went back to bringing their tithes to support the ministry. Just like Nehemiah and the children of Israel, we have a choice.  We can continue to live broken down lives, or we can take the challenge to rise up.  We have the power to rise up within ourselves, within our homes, within our community, and within the world at large.  Are you ready to RISE UP yet?  I am.  #wepreach Questions, Questions, Questions: What sermon in the Rise Up campaign has been the most impactful? Have you been challenged to make any changes? If so, what changes have you made? Share your favorite moment from the Rise Up campaign on social media, with family, or with friends. Rise up to the challenge.

The week of Christmas is here. It may seem weird to you, but being in the middle of a pandemic makes this Christmas that much more special. Do not get me wrong. It is devastating that so many families have lost loved ones due to COVID-19. People have been unemployed or underemployed. Our Christmas traditions have had to change. And yet, the Christmas story has brought me hope and comfort. Just think about it. Newborn babies are irresistible. Innocent. Fragile. With their whole lives ahead of them. Even the toughest people generally have a soft spot for babies. And Jesus was no typical baby. His arrival on the scene was a long-awaited fulfillment of a promise. His arrival was a beacon of hope in a dark world. My prayer as we enter this week is that we hold on to the hope that Jesus brought into this world. Even when it seems our prayer requests have not been answered. Even when our lives are not going as WE planned. The Christmas story reminds us that unexpected news and circumstances can change the course of the world. I just hope that we can wait for God to move on our behalves. #wepreach

These kids are on another level here lately. I suppose they have no clue that Santa is supposed to be coming to town soon or whatever. Or maybe they do know, but they just don’t care. Either way, they have been up to all kinds of shenanigans. I entered a classroom to pick up one of my sweet friends for therapy. As I was checking my kid out on the computer, a motion in my peripheral vision made me stop what I was doing. Two kids were playing with blocks. Nothing unusual about that. One of them was much smaller than the other one. Although there were blocks all around, the bigger kid decided that he liked the smaller kid’s blocks better. So he quickly took them. You may wonder how the smaller kid handled this betrayal. I was going to step in, but I hesitated. The smaller kid took advantage of my hesitation. He reached way back and smacked the big kid in the middle of the forehead. Picture David with his slingshot and stone against a mighty Goliath. The smack echoed rather loudly through the classroom. At that point, I intervened. Goliath had a red forehead and little David had crossed arms and a frown. While I was initially very surprised by the showdown, it made me think about my own reactions when things that I cherish are taken from me. Satan just goes around seeking to steal, kill, and destroy. He is so bothered when he sees me enjoying life. Yes, there are plenty of people that he could tussle with, but sometimes he just wants to pick with me. I need to get the same fighting spirit that my little friend had. I need to punch back with no hesitation. I need to put my full weight on it. Everyone in the atmosphere should hear my smack. Instead of frowning and complaining, I need to pray, praise, and declare the promises of God over my life. Yes, my little friends are out of control. But every now and then, I learn something new about myself when I see them navigate in this big world. #wepreach

Has anyone noticed that I have not recapped our Wednesday night Refresh Bible study in a while?  I did not recap the month of November because Bible Study Brother was holding down the fort for me.  Then when December arrived, a new series popped up on Wednesday nights- What He Said, What I Heard.  We get to see clips from the previous Sunday’s sermon and members share what they took away from the clips.  It is always refreshing to hear what others got out of the sermon.  It moves the sermon from the pulpit and into people’s everyday lives, and I am here for all of that. Last night’s Refresh focused on Nehemiah 11.  The wall has been completed.  Renovations are a thing of the past.  The people have listened to the word of God.  They have worshipped.  And now it is time for them to reoccupy the holy city.  Which seems like a simple thing on the surface.  But I am going to say that it can really be one of the hardest things. When you are living a jacked up life…when everything is out of whack…you have nothing to lose.  You have nothing.  So, with some effort, you can work on improving one area of your life.  Just baby steps.  Nothing major.  You are just giving it a try.  As you continue to grow and improve, you can step back and see the progress that you have made.  You know that you are not where you used to be but certainly not doing the best that you could possibly be doing. The closer that you get to really living a holy life, the scarier that it can be.  See, you have come too far to go all the way back to ruins but now you have to decide if you are really going to occupy the holy life that you have been aiming for.  That can be uncomfortable.  Your flesh certainly does not want to concede living a holy life.  But the Holy Spirit inside of you will push you to reoccupy the space that you were made to live in.  Just like the children of Israel.  The work was finished and now it was time to move back home. That is the push for you and me today.  We have to choose to reoccupy the spaces that God has carved out for us.  The holy spaces.  Do not all push past me in your excitement to get to work. LOL!  While it is great to hear good teaching, we also have to be willing to act on the knowledge that we receive.  We are not here just to be place holders and occupy space.  We were placed to occupy the land and be world changers.  Are you ready to reoccupy the holy spaces?  #wepreach

It’s another day’s journey, and I am glad about it.  Ya’ll today was one of those days.  My last little friend of the day had quite the attitude.  He pointed to the blocks.  He screamed “blocks” out loud.  He cheered when I pulled the blocks out and unzipped the bag.  Then when I asked if he wanted to play with blocks, he quickly responded “no.”  But then yelled and screamed in protest when I moved to put the blocks back. Now, that may seem a little strange to you, but I was prepared for his response.  It is not that my friend cannot say yes.  He does it quite readily.  This particular friend finds comfort in confrontation and struggle.  He has grown so accustomed to receiving extra attention when he acts negatively that he often throws out “no” reflexively.  Can this behavior be modified?  Yes.  But it takes time and patience. Before I jump on his case too hard, I really am not that different from him.  There are so many things that I desire from the Lord.  Things that I point out.  Things that I name and claim.  Things that I cheer for when I believe they are on the way.  But when they are presented to me, I will yell out no.  Not because I do not want them.  But because I get in my own head. It is one thing to desire something but quite another to actually receive it.  I am constantly on the lookout for the other shoe to drop.  Really, my actions show that I do not believe in the very things that I ask God for.  I am afraid to get my hopes up.  I do not want to be disappointed.  Praying and asking God to meet my needs does not terrify me.  The struggle is familiar.  The struggle has become a comfort zone.  Stretching out to that faith piece however is a different ball game.  The great news is that my friend was able to play with blocks today.  I modeled the word “yes” at the end of my question, and he imitated me without hesitation.  Hmmm…I guess I need to say what God says when I ask something of Him, and He provides.  That will help shore up my faith.  That will remind me of His promises over my life.  Can my negative behavior be modified?  Yes.  But it takes time and patience.  #wepreach

I love makeup.  I mean…I do not wear it often, but I enjoy playing with it.  When I was a kid, I COULD NOT wait to be able to start wearing makeup.  Interestingly enough, I did not grow up in a family that wore makeup.  Bible Study Mama lived au naturel.  Minimal fuss and muss.  So, my desires were a foreign concept to her. Maybe I was drawn to makeup because I love glitter, sparkle, and glamour.  Maybe my creative side just wants to be able to blend.  Whatever the pull, I was a huge fan.  Since Bible Study Mama is not into makeup, she set some parameters.  First, makeup was not for little girls.  I would have to wait until I was sixteen to be able to wear it.  Second, I would have to go to a professional to learn how to apply it.  She did not want me to be in the streets looking like a clown. Can I tell ya’ll a secret?  I wore makeup before I was sixteen.  If I was going to walk around the mall with my friends, there was always someone who had some lip liner and gloss that I could apply.  I would dabble in eye liner and eye shadow.  I tried a variety of looks.  By the time my sixteenth birthday approached, I had lots of experience playing around with makeup.  I went to learn from a professional and boy did I learn.  I learned about proper skin care.  I learned about makeup application.  Honestly, it was fascinating.  Before that class, all my information came from my friends and most of them were just winging it.  Going with the flow and doing whatever felt natural.  I came away with knowledge that I still think about to this day. That is not the only area of my life that I try to get by with quick fixes and doing whatever seems right.  Of course, you know that I am talking about my spiritual life.  How easy is it to surround ourselves with people that can give us quick fixes?  We look alright but do not even realize that we have the potential to look exceptional.  We really need to understand why we do what we do. The quick fixes are always easier.  They do not take extra time out of our schedules.  We can do them on the go.  Unfortunately, that will not help us live our best lives.  We have to sit under sound teaching.  We need instructors that are connected with Christ and obedient to the Holy Spirit.  We need instructors that will drop nuggets of wisdom that will help us to live out this Christian life.  Let’s move from dabbling in relationship with Christ to being students of His. I still enjoy makeup.  As the years have passed, trends have changed but the fundamentals that I learned over twenty years ago are still in use in my life today.  I think the same can be said for good Biblical teaching.  We can make up our minds to do better.  #wepreach

The Rise Up campaign has taken us on a journey.  I have certainly been challenged along the way to change my thinking and my habits.  I have been pushed to go farther and dig deeper.  It’s time out for surface Christianity.  If we have been attentive over the last eleven weeks, we have reason to celebrate our progress.  The children of Israel have a reason to celebrate as well.  It is sermon recap time. Nehemiah 12 sets the scene for the dedication of the wall of Jerusalem.  Although the work on the wall was finished by the time chapter 7 begins, they still had not had a dedication ceremony.  Why such a long wait?  Shoot, people will start planning a housewarming party before they ever close on a home.  We plan weddings in our heads the first time our boo says they love us.  We love to celebrate.  But the children of Israel had learned a valuable lesson.  After having walls that lay in ruins and a tarnished reputation, they learned to prioritize.  They showed us what true progress looked like. Before planning a dedication, they made it a priority to practice holy living.  The walls are standing, and they are beautiful.  But they are an outward reflection of an inner strength.  A strength that you do not develop by saying the right things in the right settings.  No, this strength comes from an inward conviction.  And the children of Israel made sure that they were living lives that pleased God before they put together a committee to celebrate the rebuilding of the walls.  They dedicated themselves to the work of the Lord.  They spent time listening to His word.  They prayed and praised.  Gone were the days of just talking about holy living.  They had progressed to the point that they were living holy.  Were they perfect?  No.  And neither are we, but we must make it a priority to practice what we preach and what we hear preached. They also made joyful living a priority.  Nothing ruffles my feathers more than a saint that is always unsatisfied and sour.  We speak of the goodness of the Lord so our countenance should match what we say.  Of course, every day is not all rainbows and puppies.  But when you serve the true and living God, others should see His light reflected in your attitude, your speech, and the way that you treat people.  The children of Israel’s joy was contagious and could not be contained.  Other nations could hear them praising God without the use of the internet and modern technology.  If their joy could be heard by other nations, our joy should be heard by others as well. We have so much to be thankful for and such a responsibility to do the work that God wants us to do on and within ourselves.  Miracles happen when we get in line with God’s plan.  He openly invites us to participate in the miraculous.  Building the wall required commitment that is often lacking in modern times.  When we look back at all the rich material that has been offered during this campaign, we should see true progress.  We should be able to name ways that our lives have changed for the better.  And when we do, we are well within our right to celebrate.  #wepreach Questions, Questions, Questions: How do you typically celebrate progress? Name one area that you have been challenged to improve as we have progressed through Nehemiah. Did you begin to intentionally focus on improving that area?

I have been so guilty of wishing my life away.  On Mondays, I am ready for Friday. When I start a long drive, I am ready to reach my destination.  And when I am hungry and no food is on hand, I am counting the seconds until I can get my fill.  But here lately, I have come to realize that I need to slow down and appreciate each moment as it comes. That is a tall order for me.  It is much easier said than done.  I have lists and goals and calendars and ideas.  I am a woman on a mission.  A woman of purpose.  No time for half stepping…or at least it fells like half stepping.  If I am not rushing to my next task, I feel uneasy.  I question if I am doing enough. While it is true that I am on a mission, being present in the here and now matters.  The reality is that there is no guarantee that I will be able to check off everything on MY list.  In my hurry to get things accomplished, I could very well be missing out on the joy of simple things on the journey.  The small moments.  The moments that we will not get back. The past couple of years of my life have been filled with growth and transitions.  I have faced many challenges and experienced some unforgettable sweet moments.  Reflecting on the progress that has occurred in my life in the small moments put a smile on my face.  So today, find joy in the moments on the way to your destination.  Find peace even when you cannot check off that item on your to-do list.  God has ordained our steps, and we would be wise to appreciate each one of them.  #wepreach

Being a Girl Scout taught me lots of life lessons and principles that I carry with me to this day. The great thing about the lessons is that they were not always obvious. Or even lessons that we were sat down and given. No, the lessons were demonstrated through actions as well as being discussed. One lesson that did not really hit me until today was the buddy system. My Girl Scout troop traveled quite often. Whether it was camping or our annual summer vacations that were partially funded by our cookie sales, we were always on the road. Traveling around with a large group of preteen and teenage girls had the potential for disaster. We could have easily lost someone in the crowd. There were way too many girls for the adults to keep an eye on. The buddy system helped eliminate some of the worry. We would pair off in twos. That did not mean that we had to do EVERYTHING together, but it did mean that we were supposed to know where our buddy was at all times. The buddy system was most helpful to me when we were camping. Our campsites would have bathrooms but they would require a walk down the trail. That walk was fine in the daytime. But at night it was a different story. You may or may not know this but I have an active imagination. If the urge to go to the bathroom hit me in the middle of the night while camping, I would hold it for as long as I could. Eventually, I would have to unzip my sleeping bag and nudge my buddy until they woke up. We would bundle up and get our flashlights and head down the trail. Do not get me wrong. I was still scared and paranoid, but I felt better with my buddy by my side. Shoot, even though I am a grown-up, I have come to realize that I still need the buddy system. I need folks that I can partner up with to walk through this life’s journey. I need people who will notice if I have gone missing in my spiritual life. That will sound the alarm and send out a search party. That will get out of their comfortable situations to make sure that my pressing needs are met. Do you have a buddy? Are you a buddy? Link up with one today so that you do not get lost. #wepreach

What are you passionate about?  Maybe a TV show or your favorite singing group.  Maybe it is sports, and you have the lineup for every professional game on your schedule.  It might even be your career.  You are a workaholic and cannot rest until the job is finished. No matter what you are passionate about, I am sure that you are well informed on the subject.  You take time to discover new things about your object of interest.  If there is a back story, you are well versed in the topic.  The subject of passion came up the other day, and I had to take a look at myself.  A real look. See, I say that I love Jesus.  And I do.  But am I passionate about my relationship with Him?  Anyone who has been in a relationship for any amount of time realizes that relationships have peaks and valleys.  Some days you can’t wait for them to get home and other days you send them on errands so that you will not have to be together for too long.  And I am not surprised when that happens in my relationship with people.  But it took me off guard to realize that my passion for Him is not as consistent as it should be.  While I realize that the issue is me, I get frustrated that I do not go as hard for Him as I should.  No one else could even come close to being as good to me as He is and yet I find myself struggling to commit to morning devotional.  Sometimes, you have to work to rekindle that spark and that passion.  And that is not easy.  That is not fun.  But the fire is still inside me.  Every time I read the Bible, I get a new revelation.  Every time.  It adds work to the fire that is already burning.  The fire starts to burn a tad bit hotter.  When I talk about my fears and faith with my believing friends, the fire turns up another notch.  When I participate in Sunday worship on YouTube from home, my passion ramps up.  I have to constantly keep myself in situations that stir up the Holy Spirit in me.  Then my passion comes to life.  I just have to keep pushing and pressing.  The passion will live to see another day. #wepreach

Happy Anniversary to me!  One year ago today, I boarded a plane to Utah.  Very nervous, but desperate.  And I was so desperate that I was flying across the country to spend four days in the mountains of Utah with strangers.  No cell phone reception.  Just time alone with my thoughts and this group of unknown people. I heard about the Haven retreat when I attended a women’s conference last October.  There was a lady there who was selling Younique makeup.  When it was time to introduce herself, she went from talking about the makeup to talking about being an adult survivor of childhood sexual abuse.  She went on to say that her company offers a free retreat for women that need healing.  Participants are responsible for transportation to and from the retreat but everything else is provided free of charge. It sounded too good to be true.  And if it was true, what kind of help would they really provide?  The old adage “you get what you pay for” was ringing in my head.  But I took the leap.  I applied.  And they had an opening for me that week in December.  I pushed past any reservations that remained and bought a plane ticket.  And one year later, I am so glad that I did. I NEEDED that retreat.  It gave me the opportunity to see myself in a completely different light.  Flawed and broken but not destroyed.  Sitting in group therapy and classes and talking with other women that had similar stories to mine.  Feeling hope and unity.  Knowing that I was not alone.  Really being able to share my story without fear that someone would run back and tell it to someone else.  I had the chance to unload and refuel.  I left some painful stories in Utah and picked up some beautiful memories. The girl in that picture did not know what she was in for.  Hence, the expression.  But my God, what a difference that trip made in my life.  Now the retreat is not Bible based and folks are not walking around quoting scriptures, but I heard God so clearly in my time away.  He wants me to be whole and healthy.  He withholds nothing from me, and I am so grateful that He loves me enough to push me into uncomfortable situations. Parts of me wish that I could go back and speak to myself.  To reassure me from one year ago that I was making a great choice.  But I had peace in the moment.  Even though it was out of the ordinary, I trusted God.  There is a beauty in not knowing the outcome and letting God lead you.  True faith is responding to His voice and holding His hand as He guides you through the valley. While the retreat is free monetarily, you have to pay a hell of a price to gain access.  I hope and pray that any woman reading this hasn’t already paid the price, but the statistics say otherwise.  One in four women is a survivor of child sexual abuse.  What a sad reality.  But there is hope and help available.  If you are interested in more information, you can go to youniquefoundation.org.  You can apply to attend the retreat or find an online support group.  Do not walk around carrying all that emotional baggage.  There is a place for you to lay it down.  You do not want to have to pay for that extra luggage on the plane.  It weighs you down, and you cannot soar as high.  #wepreach

Birthdays have always been a big deal to me.  Every year when I was a kid, I would let my mom know in advance exactly the type of party that I wanted.  Just a consummate planner from an early age.  I was particularly interested in the milestone birthday years.  I have not ever quite let go of that tradition.  When thirty-five was fast approaching, I decided to celebrate my entrance into my mid-30’s with a weekend trip. Other folks might have called their closest girlfriends to get the party started.  Not this gal.  I sent out an e-mail inviting my family to travel with me to Branson to celebrate in grand fashion.  Although I am an avid traveler, I wanted a celebration that was closer to home.  Part of the celebration was going to the Sight & Sound Theater to see the play “Samson.”  I love musical theatre.  Throw in some Jesus and some live animals, and you have a party just waiting to happen. Before the play began, they made a disclaimer that they took some poetic license with the scripture to help the play flow.  Okay cool.  It is a dramatization.  The play started and I was transported back to the Old Testament.  But as the play continued, I was flabbergasted.  I knew about Delilah cutting Sampson’s hair.  But I did not know his back story.  I thought the screenplay writers took their poetic license too far.  I was not the only one who thought that.  We discussed the play as we were exiting the theater.  Many of us were in agreement that they really used their imagination to push the story along.  And then on the way to dinner, I read Sampson’s story for myself and…the parts that seemed too far fetched for me were right there in black and white.  Oh dear.  Anytime I get tired of being a devoted student of the Bible, this experience pops up in my head.  I have to move beyond the cute Sunday school stories and really dig deep into the word.  Honestly, reading Samson’s story sparked my interest in re-reading familiar Bible stories with fresh eyes. My birthday weekend continued after the play.  We painted paintings.  I had tea in a tea house.  Mexican food that was out of this world.  Game nights with my silly cousins.  Catfish that was so good that I wanted to slap Bible Study Mama (but I did not….I’m not crazy).  Putt-putt golf to seal the deal.  And yet the tug to see Biblical stories with fresh eyes still remains to this day.  I suppose it was a thirty-fine trip.  #wepreach  

How often do we say amen just as a reflex? Listen, I am a church girl through and through. I have been found saying amen when listening to speakers that were on point. They were not preaching the gospel. They were just saying things that I agreed with, and the amen bubbled to the surface without much thought on my part. But there is a danger in an amen. Pastor broke it down for us during the sermon. We should get right to this sermon recap. Nehemiah 10 begins with a list of people that are signing a pledge to obey God. They are putting their amen on paper. Nehemiah’s signature can be found on this pledge as well as the signatures of priests, Levites, and other leaders. While we do not really have to sign and say that we are going to obey God, we verbally agree with many statements that go forth during a sermon. And that is a great thing. But the danger is that most often our commitment to scripture ends with our amens. The Isrealites did not just put pen to paper. They were determined to live out their commitment. Well, that is where I fall short. And I know that I am not alone. There comes a time that we have to go beyond a hearty amen and really live the life that we were called to live. God has brought them from shambles to a fully restored wall and community. They met at the Water Gate and received a mighty word. They have worshipped God in Spirit and in truth. And now they are living lives that glorify God. They know better. They are doing better. And they are not just doing better grudgingly. No one likes obedience that comes with an attitude. Just ask any parent that has a child that stomps off after being given a directive. The children of Israel have right attitudes. They are excited to show the Lord just how committed they are to His service. I needed this reminder. God has been so gracious and giving to me. I can be obedient and have a good attitude at the same time. Like the Israelites, I will have to do some separation. They separated themselves from the peoples of the land. They were well aware that they were a curious people. Set apart for divine assignment. We are too. We were not created to blend in. The time has come for us walk in who were created to be. A heartfelt amen is a sign that we agree. So be it. We would do well to live the life that we agreeing with. #wepreach In what areas of your life do you see the most need for improvement? Would the average person know that you are committed to Christ without you telling them?

This blog was born after a period of intense pain.  I suppose it’s kinda like childbirth.  You push and groan.  You think that you will never make it through and then, there it is, your beautiful baby.  I suppose I am a bit like a teenage girl that does not think her actions all the way through.  I was not prepared to be a mother to this blog.  I did not ask for it.  And yet here I am.  The parent of a child that needs nurturing, love, and care. If I am perfectly honest with you, over time, it has become much easier to share the messier parts of my life.  Everyone has pain and disappointments.  Sharing those bits has been difficult, but I always walk away from the laptop feeling lighter.  And a little more free.  This blog is my baby, and I want it to grow and flourish.  I want others to be blessed by it.  But I realize that like any good parent, I have to push this child to explore new parts of the world.  New parts of my world. With that in my mind, I have decided to push myself to share about my current season in life.  I feel like this man in my life right now is it for me.  It is scarier to write that in black and white than it was to tell you about my old embarrassing heart break.  Maybe because that deed was wrapped up and certain.  This is fresh and new…it makes me feel vulnerable.  What if it all goes wrong?  Then it will be forever emblazoned on this blog.  But what if it all goes right?  Then it will be forever emblazoned on this blog. And this blog is about my life.  Good or bad.  Happy or sad.  Right now, it is happy.  Very happy.  Right now, it is hopeful.  Very hopeful.  I am committed to documenting my life every step of the way.  But honestly, if you read the blog regularly, you probably have noticed the uptick in my positivity.  I mean the few times that I wrote in the month of November were VERY chipper.  LOL.  Bible Study Brother’s offer to write for November came at the perfect time.  It gave me the opportunity to feel my feelings in private.  Because when I get to this laptop, it all comes out.  I cannot help it. That is the thing about being used by God.  I do not have the option to choose what I give birth to.  He plants the seed and holds my hand while I labor through the process.  My prayer is that I can continue to push and give birth to a beautiful new beginning.  #wepreach

Christmas is quickly approaching.  In years past, we would gather together at my mom’s house to start decorating the weekend after Thanksgiving.  We would hang the wreath on the door.  Drag in the tree from the top of the vehicle.  Secure the tree in the water stand.  Cut the twine around the tree and see exactly what shape the tree would display. That’s the thing about using a live Christmas tree.  You cannot fluff out the branches to achieve a symmetrical look.  Once you cut the twine that kept the tree bundled up, you get what you get, and you don’t pitch a fit.  Pine needles would be sprinkled on the pristine skirt of the tree and around the room.  The aroma of fresh pine would permeate the house. We would then get the ornaments out of the box and begin our decorating.  It took time, but bit by bit, I accumulated all kinds of nature décor for our tree.  I found wooden animals.  Mom bought blue ornaments that look like shiny berries.  The tree looked like it transported from some fancy forest into the dining room.  But we were not done there. I have a flair for the dramatic, and no Christmas tree of ours would be finished without snow.  Not the kind that you spray onto trees.  I always wanted the lose material so that I could throw snow into the air and let it land where it may on the tree. (Do not judge me.  I just told you that I have a flair for the dramatic.)  At times, I could convince Bible Study Mama and Bible Study Brother to join in on the fun. We finished by lining our stockings with care on the fireplace mantel.  Each stocking has our first initial.  We even have a stocking for my dog, Fiona.  Fiona passed away on Christmas Day some years back, but while she was alive, she lived a very spoiled life.  After the stockings were hung, our decorations would be complete. Although I love a nicely decorated home, I loved the time with my family the most.  We are not all gathering to decorate this year and that makes my heart a little sad.  For me, Christmas is really not about the gifts or the décor.  I treasure the birth of Jesus.  I treasure the gift of family.  As the season kicks into high gear, I pray that you remember the most precious gift of all.  #wepreach

I was going along and minding my business in February when tragedy struck.  Okay, I am being a little dramatic, but my Fitbit died.  I had just charged it not long before, but I placed it on the charger again just in case I had not place it on there correctly previously.  I sat.  I stared.  I waited.  Nothing happened. Now, this is not the first Fitbit that I have had that has gone to glory.  Twice it was ENTIRELY my fault.  Once I thought I purchased a waterproof one, and I had not.  The other time I knew it was not waterproof, but I got caught in torrential downpour while on a small boat in the ocean.  That one held on for a couple of days before it sputtered and died.  But this time…this time was not my fault.  My prior experience with faulty Fitbits had me entirely prepared for the process.  I chat with technical support and voila.  A new Fitbit arrives.  Except this time, they told me no. Well back in February, I had started to be more conscientious with my money.  Did I NEED a Fitbit?  No.  But I really wanted one.  I was part of an entire Fitbit community.  We participated in challenges all the time.  My Fitbit served as my watch and helped me keep track of time in my therapy sessions.  It tracked my steps around my job, my sleep, my exercise, my resting heart rate.  Man!  But I made the decision to not buy a new one, no matter how badly I wanted one.  Even though I had the money.  I decided to wait until the time was right. The pandemic hit shortly after.  I was stuck at home and thankful that I had not used the money to buy a new one.  Eventually, I stopped looking at my wrist to check the time.  I grew accustomed to life without it.  I learned to look at the clock on the wall in my office when I went back to work.  I used my phone to track my steps during my walks.  Life moved on. Then recently, I was gifted with a Fitbit.  I was back in the game!  I charged it up as soon as I opened the box.  I synced it with my phone.  I was good to go.  But I had forgotten many of the features that I used previously.  Even though I have a real deal watch on my wrist now, I find myself looking at the clocks on the walls, or my phone, to check the time.  I have easy access to the information that I need, but I continue to lean on the habits that I developed when I was without. Much like the way that I handle the Holy Spirit that lives within me.  He is literally dwelling within me, and I do not access the Spirit the way that I need to.  I will ask friends and family for advice.  I will Google questions with no qualms.  While the Holy Spirit waits on me to check-in and be obedient to what He says.  I am a work in progress.  I do not NEED a Fitbit, but I most certainly need to lean and depend on the Holy Spirit within me.  My prayer today is that we all allow the Holy Spirit to sync with our will.  That our will is transformed into His will.  And that all our steps are ordered and counted by God.  #wepreach

Y’all may or may not know this, but I have dipped my toes into the dating pool.  Folks say that there are plenty of fish in the sea, and they are correct.  But many of those fish live in the depths of the ocean.  When they come closer to the surface, it is not a pretty sight.  They look and act like bottom dwellers.  Listen.  It is a struggle. Wooooo!  I went off on a tangent.  Let me get to my point.  Meeting new people has made me really think about myself.  My likes, dislikes.  My strengths.  My weaknesses.  Some of the questions are commonplace.  You know…occupation, siblings, where you are from.  But every now and then, I get a question that really makes me think.  I was recently asked, “What kind of Christian are you?” Now, at times I can be very flippant.  I asked for clarity on what the person was wanting to know.  They wanted to know what standards I had set in my Christian walk.  This was a great question!  What kind of Christian am I?  Well, I am the kind of Christian that knows I do not get everything right.  I am the kind of Christian that goes to parties where everyone else is drinking, and I am not.  And I am perfectly fine with that.  If I were not, I would not go to the parties. I am the kind of Christian that studies the Bible to see my own faults and not everyone else’s.  I am the kind of Christian that laughs loudly and often.  I find joy in the smallest things.  Ask Bible Study Mama.  She swears that I laugh in my sleep.  I am the kind of Christian that picks trash up off the street just because.  I am the kind of Christian that curses sometimes.  I am the kind of Christian that prays for my friends and then does my best to help them.  I am the kind of Christian that loves hard and deeply. So, I guess the dating scene is not all doom and gloom.  It is helping me realize things about myself that I do not know I would have thought about.  It is challenging me to continue to discover who I am in Christ and relationships.  Now that the question has been posed and I have given my answer, take a minute.  Think about what kind of Christian you are.  You might be surprised. #wepreach

HELLLLLO DECEMBER!  I’m back!  I’m back!  I’m back!  November was truly nourishing for me.  Clearly, there is power in words, so I need to give December a good nickname.  How about Delightful December?  Even if you do not like it, I do.  And it’s my blog so…LOL.  I truly believe that this month will be full of moments that put a smile on my face.  I am hoping the same for ya’ll.  Let’s catch up. Months and months ago, I was asked to speak on Mission Sunday at my home church.  Everything within me screamed “NO!”  I was polite and said that I needed more time to prepare.  They asked if I would be available for Mission Sunday in November.  I did not have a reasonable excuse, so I said sure.  I spent months dreading the fifth Sunday in November.  I would pray and ask the Lord for guidance.  He was silent.  I moved on put it in the back of my mind. As the time drew closer, I had not heard back from them.  Do you think I called to see if I was still on program?  Nope!  However, I did keep praying just in case I was actually going to have to speak.  Well, the text came.  I really was on program.  This was going to happen. Uggggh. When I tell you I fretted about this, let me tell you…It was rough.  I had no clue how to prepare to give a mission message.  I left in the Lord’s hands because my hands were fit to be tied.  And He came through with a message.  Did I deliver it seamlessly??? Nah.  Did I stumble over my words? Sometimes.  But the important thing is that I showed up and did what He wanted me to do.  This was completely new ground for me. After I finished, Pastor Slater came to me and told me that I did a good job.  I thanked him and told him that I was just glad it was over.  It was time for me slide back into the bushes.  He replied that God had a way of setting bushes on fire.  Why did I have to say bushes?????  I could have said background or even trees.  But his words reminded me of the bush that God set fire to when He was ready for Moses to get to work.  Moses had to cover new ground and had many of the same excuses that I do. I am off that subject for now.  I am happy to be blogging in full swing and connected with ya’ll again.  I hope that everyone is well and has had every need met.  I pray that you have encountered peace at home and on your jobs.  And I am also praying that you too will be courageous enough to cover new ground.  #wepreach

Can you believe that we are already into week nine of our study of the book of Nehemiah???  Every Sunday, the sermon takes us higher and higher.  We are constantly challenged to look at ourselves and do the work to become better.  You already know this week turned it up a notch.  Let’s jump into the sermon recap. Week nine means that we are going through the ninth chapter of the book of Nehemiah.  The children of Israel are assembled together and fasting.  They do not look pretty or desirable.  As a matter of fact, they dressed in sack cloth and have ashes on their head.  Why the dusty appearance?  They are getting ready to worship.  I know, I know.  When we get ready to worship in a general assembly, we put on our finest frocks.  The mothers of the church don the hottest head gear in town.  The deacons wear their best tie.  But the children of Israel had a reverence for God that went beyond outer appearance.  They knew that they were unworthy, so they made preparation before entering into worship. The first thing they did to get ready for worship is that they separated themselves from the foreigners.  How does that translate into our lives for 2020?  Glad you asked.  We are to put away distractions.  Separate ourselves from the situations that God does not want in our life.  And we should not wait until the situation sours.  We should put away distractions right now.  Today!  We are preparing ourselves to worship God in spirit and truth, and it is more difficult to do that if we are not focused. Then the Israelites stood and confessed their sins.  Not like “forgive me for all my sins Lord, the ones that I committed knowingly and unknowingly.”  Nah.  They were specific.  They called the sins out by name.  How many of us are willing and ready to acknowledge our sins?  We sing the song that goes “count your blessings, name them one by one,” but we are reluctant to do that with our sins.  Acknowledging the sins that you have committed brings you one step closer to having authentic worship. The Israelites rose up in their place as well.  The words “in their place” are an indicator of personal responsibility.  Real worship of Christ causes us to rise up in our calling.  You know…the thing that God placed you on this earth to do.  Yeah…your purpose.  When we are living out the mandate that God has placed on our lives, our worship goes to the next level. After all the preparation, it was time to worship.  The Israelites praised God just for being God.  They praised Him for His goodness.  They praised Him for His grace.  Authentic worship.  Next level worship.  This chapter gives me pause when I consider the current state of my worship.  Now that I know that there are levels to this, I am responsible for doing the work to go to the next level.  Just when I think the construction is finished, another project comes along.  Ultimately, I choose to continue this reconstruction journey.  I want to take my worship to the next level.  Ya’ll let’s rise up together.  #wepreach Questions to Chew On: Do you have quiet time before you begin worship? Why or why not? What does worship look like in your life? What does it sound like? What does it feel like? Do you think it is important to get ready for worship?

    Quilting is a huge thing in my family. For as long as I can remember, everyone has had at least one in their home. They feel like magic to me. They are so warm and embody the essence of love and care into each woven square of fabric. I’ve never doubted that God existed and my first time realizing he was real was most likely under those blankets. I can recall when I was younger, maybe 5 or 6, that it would take my mom or dad sitting next to me in bed with their hand on me for me to go to sleep. I needed to feel that contact and security to know it was alright to relax my hyperdrive of a mind and rest. Every now and again though I’d feel that way under the covers and they were nowhere to be found. It felt different because, instead of a small hand, the feeling was more like I was being hugged or enveloped in safety. I instantly knew it was God. I would talk to him in these moments and tell him about my day or ask to be protected from whatever monster was in my way. There was something supernatural about what those pieces of cloth seemed to do to my mental space. Before I graduated high school I asked my Great-Grandmother Mama Patra to make me a quilt for graduation. I had realized that I didn’t have a baby blanket made for me when I was born. So I wanted one all to myself that was made specifically for me. She asked what colors I’d like and I simply told her my favorites which are blue and white. When I finally got my hands on it I was ecstatic. She didn’t just make me one she made two. One was blue and white and the other was the red, blue, and white. I felt so honored and loved. I wish I could’ve expressed in words to her how much they meant to me more than just saying thank you. I have a piece of my family history right next to me and I cherish it more than any valuable thing I own. A year after she passed I was sitting in my room staring at the gift she’d given me in awe. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to cry or what. I honestly couldn’t even tell you what I was feeling at that moment. It wasn’t until I laid down that just like when I was a child I once again felt that warm enveloping presence that could only be God. Life can get so hard sometimes. It becomes easy to lose faith and lose sight of God’s everlasting protection. He is always near. I am thankful for that. I give roses to God for my Great Grandmother and her strong soul. I know that in everything He does there is a plan. I don’t always know what it is or how it will come to pass but, it’s honestly nor for me to know. All I need to do is lay in that protection and know that no matter what I am covered from head to toe in the warmth of his grace.  I want to thank all of you for allowing me to be this month’s contributor. I did my best to pour my all into each post. I hope that we can do this again next year and that it’s something that grows. #wepreach #GiveRosesMonth

I like traditions.  There is a comfort in knowing that some things will be just as they always have been.  If you have not guessed by now, I lean towards order.  A place for everything and everything has a place.  But I know that life can be unpredictable.  Traditions start and stop in response to the changes in life.  Black Friday shopping is one of the traditions that has come and gone. Shopping has long been a passion of mine, but I did not go shopping on Black Friday.  That all changed one Thanksgiving many years ago.  I heard my aunt and cousins talking about the deals that were being offered.  They were loading up at 3 am to hit the lines on Black Friday.  I considered it an opportunity to spend more time with my family and see what the fuss was all about.  We bundled up into the truck and off we went. When I say it was bananas, man it was bananas!  The energy in the air was electric.  People were passionate about these deals.  Maybe a little too passionate for me.  To get away from some of the chaos, I went to the regular clothing section.  No Black Friday deals there.  Just regular clothes at regular prices.  I picked up a jacket to get a closer look and wham!  Some lady snatched it out of my hands.  Clearly, I was not far enough away from the electric energy. You might think that the insanity would deter me.  But you are wrong.  I did find some great deals.  We store hopped until we were about to drop.  Somebody pointed out a Mexican restaurant at about noon.  We collapsed into chairs and ate and drank and talked.  I was hooked!  When we got back to our respective homes, we all passed out.  A new tradition was born.  Black Friday shopping and a stop at the same Mexican restaurant. The tradition held fast for many years until it didn’t.  The restaurant closed.  Black Friday crept into Thanksgiving day.  Things were not the same.  Although our traditions have had to adjust through the years, I am thankful that we are continually creating new ones.  If 2020 has taught me nothing else, it has taught me that change is inevitable.  But that does not mean that I cannot find joy in doing things a different way.  I hope you tackle changes with a positive attitude.  Make that a new tradition.  That makes all the difference.  #wepreach

Happy Thanksgiving!!!  Bible Study Brother has been chugging along and giving it all that he has.  He has passed roses to people that have touched him along his journey through this life.  Bible Study Mama chipped in yesterday to eloquently express her gratitude.  While I am appreciative of them both, I could not let today pass without sharing with ya’ll the things that I am personally grateful for. This year has proved to be challenging on many different levels for people.  Some of us have had to shelter in place with our loved ones.  Some of us discovered that we are essential when we had not been called that before.  Others lost loved ones…I used a plural because many people lost more than one person that was close to their hearts.  And those losses may not have been caused by the pandemic, but they still hurt just the same.  Through it all, we have had to find a way to keep our heads above water.  And it has not always been easy. The pandemic means that my Thanksgiving celebration with my family will look drastically different.  I am big on family.  We spend lots of time together.  Thanksgiving is the kick-off to our holiday festivities.  We have long standing traditions that I look forward to.  On today, instead of holding hands in a gigantic circle while the food is being blessed, we will be on Zoom praying together and seeing what every family has whipped up to eat.  There will be no name pulling for our Christmas gift exchange.  No multiple Spades tables running at the same time. But I am grateful that we are all healthy and able to be on the call.  I am thankful that love cannot be squashed by the pandemic.  I am grateful that I have a circle, really a village of people, that love and support me.  Life has shown me that everyone does not have people in their corner.  Everyone does not know what this type of love feels like. I am hoping and praying that you do get the chance to experience this type of love in this lifetime.  The for better AND worse kind of love.  The for richer AND poorer kind of love.  That love is not exclusive to marriage vows.  My friends and family have shown it to me in multiple ways throughout my life.  Especially during the last couple of years.  And I am incredibly grateful.  God has been kinder to me than I could ever deserve.  Be safe while you are counting your blessings today.  #wepreach

Every time I turn around. Blessings on blessings. Every time I turn around. Blessings on blessings. Sing Anthony Brown and Group Therapy!!! This song came to my mind as I was thinking about what to write for Bible Study Girl’s blog on giving roses. There are so many people who deserve roses but the one that I want to focus on is Jesus Christ, himself. This has been a year filled with grief, anxiety, loss after loss but through it all a year to focus on gratitude. Most of us would never know or appreciate sunshine if not for rain; joy if not for sadness and pain; or happiness if not for depression. This year has left nothing to the imagination. Record number of hurricanes, horrific pandemic, virtual school attendance for students, police brutality, racism, a tumultuous political season that includes unfounded allegations of voter fraud and corruption, the wild fires, endless zoom meetings for work and church, having to social distance and wear masks, unemployment, cancelled vacations, and family gatherings being cancelled. For those of us who love spending time with our families, the inability to gather face to face has caused us a sense of loss and for many, depression. I’m sure I missed some of the atrocities that have occurred since March of 2020 but you get the idea. Here are a few reasons I am taking time to focus on Jesus Christ and give Him the glory and honor that He so richly deserves: He has given me the activity of my limbs so that I can walk, work and feed myself. He has placed people in my life to encourage, strengthen, and do life with me. He has given me food and shelter. Even though most church buildings are closed, the real church, the eglisea, the body of Christ, the legs and feet of Christ, ME, I am still able to witness to the lost, minister to widows, orphans, homeless, sick and/or bereaved, because of the healing, saving, compassionate power of Jesus Christ. Jesus’ gift of forgiveness to me and my forgiveness to others because I have had to sit down and become more introspective and show grace and mercy to others as He has given the same to me. My son, Bible Study Brother, accepted his calling into the gospel ministry and is preaching the Word of God. My daughter, Bible Study Girl, was laid off but never missed a meal and has been able to recoup and pay her bills through the sacrificial gifts of others and her job reopening. I was asked to work less hours for about a month but I had enough PTO to supplement the hours that I was not able to work. You see, blessings on blessings! There are so many more that I could tell about but suffice it to say, the blessings haven’t stopped coming!!! Take this time to reflect on the goodness of God and all that He has done for you. When I look around and think things over, I CAN’T COMPLAIN! #wepreach

I wasn’t always the most confident guy. I’m still not to be honest with you. God gave me my own talents, but they are things I feel anyone could do. I write moderately well, and I’m an amazing lyricist. By lyricist, in layman’s terms, I mean an amazing rapper, and I’d go so far as to say songwriter if you pushed me on a ledge. I got to this point with hours upon hours of just writing rhymes and focusing only on being the best me I could be. What I want to share with this post is how I got the foundation to be who I am today. Back in 9th grade, I had the amazing privilege to be taught by one of the most inspirational, intelligent, and immensely creative teachers in the world. Current teacher of the year, Stacy McAdoo, in her first year at Central High had a communications class that will live in infamy. I remember the feeling of her classroom as being one of the safest places you could ever be. You were free to be yourself and unapologetically so at that. We were all coal in her hands that she pressured just right into being the diamonds we were always meant to be. She would let us freestyle in class if we’d finished our assignments or so we could release excess energy. She’d then take that moment to find a way to teach us even more about ourselves and it was just the best experience I’ve ever had. In addition to all these incredible things she did, her husband was an accomplice to my maturation and growth, and I am forever indebted to Leron McAdoo. The first song I ever recorded with my friends was in his home. He breathes artistic excellence. I can not say enough about how much confidence he gave me. The craziest thing about my connection to these two is it doesn’t just stop with them. I was raised at my church with their family members. The Mosby family is a dynasty unto themselves. I don’t know if I’d know what cool was without Ryan Mosby, the coolest breeze the wind ever blew. His father, Pastor Jimmy Mosby, is one of the kindest preachers I’ve ever met. He is a mentor to me alongside his loving wife, Mrs. Mosby. I could go on and on about all the ways I’ve been blessed just knowing these legendary people. I have stories for each of them that I’ll tell at a later date but God is showing the power of their legacy every day. I thank them for all they’ve ever done for me, and I want it to be known how much it means to me. I pray to have a legacy as strong as they do for my own family. #wepreach #giverosesmonth

Sermon recap time is upon us.  Although I am enjoying my break from daily writing, I must admit that I know that this platform is definitely a part of God’s plan for my life.  The time away is showing me just how special this opportunity is.  Enough of the mushy stuff.  Pastor continued our study of the book of Nehemiah.  When we last left, the wall was completed but the inside of the city was in shambles.  With some elbow grease and perseverance, the city was restored.  This week left us with great tips on how to build our strength after we have finished the wall and worked on our insides. When chapter 8 of Nehemiah begins, we find all the people gathered together in the square before the Water Gate.  Before Nehemiah had come to the city, Ezra had been preaching in Jerusalem for fourteen years.  It was only right Nehemiah would step aside and let Ezra continue his work.  And the people were craving God’s word.  They requested that Ezra read to them from the Law of Moses.  The word was the only thing that could satisfy their appetite.  What are you craving?  Our appetites are a sure indicator of our spiritual maturity.  We cannot increase our strength if we only take in junk food.  I’ll be honest.  I enjoy some good reality television or being swept away by a favorite scripted series but those do not really give me the essential nutrients that I need to grow.  We should start adjusting our diets and ingest more word. Not only did the people request the word of God, but they also responded to it.  This was not a service where they half heartedly listened to God’s word while scrolling through their Instagram timeline.  No.  The people stood and listened intently as the word was read.  They stood to bear witness to God’s hand on their lives.  And they did it all morning.  Yikes!  When we all attended church in the building, I would get a little antsy if the scripture reading for the sermon went on a little longer than I had anticipated.  My feet would start shuffling, and my mind would wander.  Certainly, the goal in our life is not perfection, but I am reminded that my response to God’s word is important.  Real strength is created when I make changes in response to the word that I have heard. While listening to the word, the people began to weep.  For some that may seem strange, but I understand it all too well.  When you really listen to God’s word, you begin to understand how undone you are.  How unworthy.  Sometimes just straight up low down.  And yet a holy God decided to love us anyway.  In spite of our mess.  Many sermons have gotten right to the core of where I am.  They have caused me to reflect on my mistakes.  Instead of allowing the people to wallow in their past, Nehemiah encourages them to rejoice.  This day is a holy day to the Lord.  And the joy of the Lord is the strength for the children of Jerusalem and for us. The wall is completed.  The insides are restored.  But we still need strength.  We would be foolish to walk away from the source of every ounce of strength that we possess.  The water gate is flowing with truth, and it is our responsibility to request, respond, and rejoice in the truth of God’s word.  Let’s renew our strength.  #wepreach Quick Questions: Do you have a desire to study the Bible outside of church services? Would you be willing to commit to 2 minutes of reading the Bible each day for the next week?

It’s oxymoronic to be an introvert who also wants to be seen. At least that’s how I see it sometimes. Mostly because I’m not the loud, confident, and all in your face person that I assume this would create. There’s one exception to this rule of mine. Whenever I am on stage or asked to do something in front of people, I feel at home and have never shied away from it. I’ll have to take you back into a time machine for this. Back when I was in 2nd grade, one of the homeroom teachers for our grade, Ms. Laura Smith at the time now Mrs. Young, was in charge of our school play. I somehow managed to get the lead role and to this day have no idea how. I don’t like practicing, or I guess rehearsing is the more accurate term for us actors. I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter given who my at-home directors were. Sitting on one side of the couch was Beverly Scorcese and on the other Sareta Duvernay. I was made to enter and exit so many times if my line delivery was off. If I didn’t have the right energy, I was told to go out and start from the top. I wanted to quit so much that it was funny. The rehearsals at school weren’t any better as I couldn’t seem to remember any of the lines. Mrs. Young still tells me to this day how bad we were. On the night of the show, I remember being so nervous. I was positive I’d forget all of the lines and just get star struck when the lights went on. Next thing I knew I was on stage, and it was time to show the audience what we’d been working on. Everything following that is a blur to me all I recall is the moments I was off stage trying to remember what was next. I had a monologue to end everything off where I sat at the front of the stage wrapping up the tale for the night. When I finished, something happened that I never expected. Everyone in attendance rose to their feet and began clapping. It was the strangest feeling I’d ever had at that age. At the moment, I thought it had to be for everyone and not just me. But afterward, all the adults kept coming up to me and telling me just how much they enjoyed my performance. Apparently, I hadn’t forgotten any lines and did an amazing job. I was so enthralled with the fact that little ol’ me did something worthy of any form of praise. Whenever Mrs. Young talks to me she reminds me of the play and how impressed she was. I never considered how much that meant to me until I accepted my calling to preach. When I did the play I stepped into being able to stand before people without being afraid of anything. I just did what came naturally to me which is let go and just flow with the feeling. I am thankful for the way she reminded me of the foundations I’d built all those years ago. God placed it in me to just go as called and everything will work out for the good. Thank you Mrs. Young for always letting me know just how much I’ve grown and continue to grow. #wepreach #giverosesmonth

For my 18th birthday, my mom and I went on a road trip to St. Louis to see my cool Aunt Pam. Now the reason she’s cool is our birthdays are two days apart, and she’s just amazing because of it. That year we basically shared our birthdays together and I got the experience of a lifetime. This was still during my culinary dreams phase in life, and I was debating on whether I should go to college or just go to culinary school. Being the genius that my Mom is, she brought me up to the Lou to experience my Uncle Vincent’s cooking. Now just so you know, Uncle Vincent adds a whole nother level of cool to my Aunt Pam. So it was dinner time, and we were going to be prepared a meal by a world-class five-star chef. The menu was set and my mouth was already watering. It was my first time ever trying tilapia. I had no clue what to expect. What happened next was pure perfection. My taste buds exploded in euphoria. Delicate, flakey, and full of flavor I was in savory heaven. The sides were non-existent in the face of this exquisite entree. That was until dessert hit the table. For a long time in my life, I was a pretty plain jane eater. Nuggets, pepperoni pizza, or a cheeseburger- only ketchup- kinda guy. So my pallet wasn’t as seasoned as it is today. A small ramekin was now sitting in front of me and a small torch was placed above it. I heard a light sizzle as the flame hit the top of this masterpiece and the room fell silent. I took my spoon as I was told and cracked the surface. What lay beneath was creamy and soft. With a spoon raised to parted lips, I took my first taste of creme brulee. The universe opened and began to speak to me. It told me God was in fact real, and He existed in this delectable treat. It hastened memories of ice cream on a cool summer day to the forefront of my mind. All in all, it was something I could never forget. I haven’t even told you the best part. They gave me the recipe to take home as a gift. I’m going to speed time up now and basically tell you that I am really great at cooking tilapia and most fish now. It all started with that birthday. I was so inspired by this that a lot of my life decisions were made with that meal in mind. I wanted to surpass it and become an even better version of myself. It’s phenomenal what experience can do for our growth. God opens doors we didn’t think existed as we gain more wisdom and understanding. I know through that moment He’d planned to inspire me to do the things beyond what I’d imagined possible. I am so grateful to my cool Aunt Pam for letting me share my time with her. Thank you for giving me a chance at something great. #wepreach #giverosesmonth

My all-time favorite movie is Finding Forrester. I stumbled across it on HBO around 2005 or 2006. I don’t remember what compelled me to watch it or anything. I hadn’t heard anything about it, seen any promo, or had anyone tell me to check it out. It opens in New York with hip-hop playing in the background and a young man doing spoken word as he looks into the camera. At the time, I was really into writing poetry so immediately this hooked me in. The movie is about a young black man by the name of Jamal Wallace. He is a brilliant kid who doesn’t want to appear too smart as his love for basketball comes with a certain appearance he’d like to keep. He does just enough to get by and not enough to get noticed, or so he thought. His recent test scores are through the roof and bring an interesting opportunity with it. He is offered a scholarship at a prestigious private school where not only do they want him for his brain, but he can also play basketball. Now before I just tell you the whole movie because I love it that much, I will just break down its biggest plot point. The entire story centers around Jamal and his relationship with an award-winning reclusive author, William Forrester, who takes an interest in Jamal’s writing. He challenges Jamal to not accept subtle racism and brings meaning to his writing. In the process, William gains a friend and a reason to go outside that he’d lacked for years. There are so many things about this movie that made me want to do exactly what I’m doing right now. I wanted to do short stories, novels, poetry, haikus, or even write plays. Well maybe not writing plays but, I wanted to do everything I could to be like Jamal. When I watched the bonus content on my DVD copy of the movie, I learned that Sean Connery who played William Forrester was also a producer on the movie. In my last blog post, I’ve told you how much I loved him as James Bond. So to see him in this new light allowed me to gain even more respect for someone I admired. Art truly does imitate life and I saw myself all throughout this movie. God has so many different avenues that He speaks to us. An unexpected call that you didn’t know you needed or looking down and finding some extra money that pushes you over what was required for a bill. He is always speaking to us. Always showing us who we can be. I am so very appreciative of this movie that has inspired me again and again. Rest in peace to the late Sean Connery. He was a pioneer for me and one of my cinema heroes. I also want to give a shout out to Rob Brown who played Jamal. Finding Forrester was his first movie and he acted so well and honest to himself. I hope we all take time to see the beauty in life and the purpose in what moves our emotions. #wepreach #giverosesmonth

My Dad and I don’t have what I would consider the typical father and son relationship. We don’t go camping. We’ve never gone on a father-son road trip. We don’t sit down and watch Sunday football or anything like that. But, what I cherished the most was the fact that every year around my birthday we used to watch the Bond movie marathon on TNT. There wasn’t anything better than seeing Odd Job, Goldfinger, and the rest of Bond villains. Overly dramatic intro music, the most high tech gadgets, and hearing the best line ever- “Shaken not stirred.” We also agreed on the fact that Sean Connery is, and will always be, the best man to have played the super spy. The atmosphere of it all was just special to me. I remember that I created my own version of the 007 franchise “00J” which I would act out whenever I could. On a bathroom break in elementary school, I’d take my time getting back. I needed to check around and make sure the bad guys hadn’t taken over just yet. I’d place my back to a wall and peek around the corner ever so slowly. My arms would be raised up in the shape of my gun and I’d throw whatever imaginary gadget I had around the corner to distract the enemy. Just long enough to take them out. My Dad and I would recite memorable lines and quotes all the time. It was our way of communicating. I value those times very much because even with all the trials and transformation our lives have gone through that has remained the same. We may not talk every day but, a quick “Well Hello Mr. Bond” or something from another movie through text is enough for a quick smile or laugh. What I learned spiritually from watching those movies is that just when you think all hope is lost, the hero always wins. Through loss and almost world domination, there is victory. God will never leave us nor forsake us, and in the face of all things, we remain undefeated. As my father and I continue to grow and learn one another, I thank God for the ways in which He allowed my Dad to speak to me. He didn’t always know the right thing to say or the right thing to do, but God still used him. He gave us our own special way of connection and for that I am thankful. #wepreach #giverosesmonth

Right before I sat down to write this, I woke up from a nap. As an adult, I rarely get the chance to just take a good nap. I miss the olden days of a lovely mat laid down next to me. Preceded by a snack or something, I’m sure. Dimmed lights for ambiance. A blanket I think you may or may not have brought from home. Basically, the perfect situation for midday resting. I don’t know if I truly knew just how precious it was to have that time to recharge. As kids, we just keep running until our tanks are empty. We fight what we need because the thought of missing any amount of playtime just doesn’t seem right. All around the world right now there are parents fighting with toddlers who just won’t close their eyes for a moment or two. It was a bit of a mystery at first to consider why God placed this on my heart as soon as I woke up. How do naps correlate to some greater message? In our day to day lives, we wake up and get to work. It could be an actual job, taking care of your home, or whatever you get out of the bed and purpose yourself to do that day. We get focused on our goals and set out to accomplish them. A lot of the motivational speakers I’ve seen yell “Team No Sleep.” This slogan comes from pushing yourself past your limits to succeed while others are wasting time. For a while, I agreed with this. I chastised myself for every second I wasted playing a game or doing something I enjoyed.  I lamented the thought of not being successful quickly. What I failed to realize is that there is a huge difference between being lazy and needing rest. We need to rest our mind, body, and most importantly soul. It isn’t wrong to take some time for yourself to heal. Don’t get so caught up in getting where you think you should be that you never take time to see how you’re doing. Take that nap, go on vacation, fast, or whatever you need to restore yourself. God doesn’t want us at 50 percent. He will always want our best and help us to get there. So today I thank God for the discernment to know when to rest. It is vital for making it through this marathon called life. #wepreach #giverosesmonth

Heeeeeeey!!!!  It’s me.  I’m back for our sermon recap.  Man, I missed ya’ll.  This past week was truly one for the books for me and not in a good way.  I was gruuuuumpy!  And irritable.  And really over people.  And over work.  I was too through.  Now, no one had done anything to me.  I was just out of sorts.  Thankfully, I got over the hump.  I have said it before, and I will say it again.  Every Sunday, my pastor has a word that speaks directly to my life.  I truly believe that having a covering makes a world of difference.  This Sunday, we journeyed to Nehemiah 7 and received encouragement to stay in the race. As Nehemiah 7 opens, we find that the wall has been completed.  The doors have been hung.  Gatekeepers have been appointed.  Singers and Levites have been assigned to their post.  Nehemiah’s assignment is completed, right?  Not exactly.  Although the walls are up and look amazing, the inside of the city has few people, and the houses are not rebuilt.  Anyone passing by would be fooled by the splendor of the wall.  They would offer congratulations for a job well done.  However, Nehemiah is aware that there is work that needs to be done on the inside.  He makes the choice to rebuild what outsiders cannot see beyond the walls. As we have gone on the journey with Nehemiah, we have seen that building the wall was not an easy feat.  Neither is staying committed to working on the inside that others cannot see.  Often times, we muster up the strength to say the right things to the right people.  Even when it goes against what we are really thinking.  Even when it goes against what we really want to say.  How do we mature to the point that our inner thoughts line up with the persona we have perfected over the years?  How do we truly stick with working on our broken-down insides? Nehemiah gives us a practical tip.  He knew that he could not do the work on his own.  And neither can we.  Nehemiah partnered up with faithful people to help him continue the work.  He calls on Hanani and Hananaih, men who were faithful and feared God more than many.  What people do you have in your life that you can call on to partner up in the work of staying committed to Christ?  It is difficult to stay in the game if you are in the game alone.  We have to surround ourselves with people that are spiritually grounded.  Having people in my life that love the Lord made a difference for me this week.  The crazier that I talked, the more they pointed me towards sound decisions.  While they gave me the opportunity to share my frustrations, fears, and concerns, they didn’t let me stay in that place.  They encouraged me to continue on with the Lord. The decision to stay with the Lord, and our assignment, is not always easy.  It is much easier to hide behind our Christian facades and much more difficult to work on the hidden parts of us.  God wants us to stick with it.  He wants us to stay with it.  When we do, He builds up the holy parts within us and makes us a sight to behold-on the inside AND the outside.  #wepreach

I love cooking. So much so that I’ve been to culinary school. Twice! I didn’t finish either time, but yeah, I tried. Look, the point is I enjoy being in the kitchen “cheffing” it up from time to time. I had dreams of opening a restaurant in Italy making fusion style Southern and Italian cooking. Now I can see at this point you’re probably wondering why Italian and honestly, I couldn’t tell you. It may have been from all the Food Network I used to watch. I’d watch that network like ESPN. Emeril Lagasse (probably the origin of my fusion restaurant), Iron Chef, and Good Eats were all my favorite shows. I’d watch and imagine myself having a show of my own. I didn’t have a title for it funny enough, but what I did have was someone who’d watch all of my practice runs. “Picture It!” I hope you said this like Sophia Petrillo. If not, then you need to Google her and find out why it’s the best phrase to use right now. It’s me in a small kitchen with some boiling water and ingredients ready right next to me. I drop a chicken bouillon cube in the water to make a quick and easy broth. I add some rosemary and Italian seasonings. Now for the coup de grâce some par-cooked noodles that are going to be the base for an amazing dish. Yeah, if you haven’t figured out by now that I’m making ramen noodles then we have lived two different live…lol. Now I serve a piping hot bowl of this culinary treat to the best patron/honored guest that’s ever been on my show. My dear sweet grandma, or Mama Boolie, as she’s known by everyone else. She would listen to me tell her what I added this time to put a spin on a basic dish to make it my own. She supported me and didn’t ever say “Boy you know these is just noodles right?” I felt empowered to continue trying and eventually I made a whole dinner from a recipe book I’d bought. Honestly, it’s the reason I thought I could be a chef in the first place. I loved her for inspiring me and giving me a platform to practice. She’s always been that way for me. Being brutally honest at times, but also kind and willing to teach me as much as she could. In fact, she was the one who showed me how to cook noodles in the first place. I don’t know where I’d be without my first audience member. I thank God for my grandmother aka Mrs. I Don’t Mean No Harm. She’s the best. Train up a child in the way he should go is a proverb she walked and talked and for that, I am blessed. #wepreach #giverosesmonth

It was placed upon my heart to give roses to those who could smell them and even those who could not. We never know when our last day could be so it’s important to cherish each and everyone who’s important to us. Today it was hard to pick one more person so I decided to just end this week with some thoughts on why I’m doing this. When I was younger as “sweet” as I could be, I’m honest enough to admit I could be a brat. I was selfish. I didn’t remember anyone’s birthday until a card was handed over for me to sign. I didn’t consider many people outside of myself. I think I did this because I was lonely and it felt easier to tell myself that no one could understand me. In a lot of ways, I just had such low self-esteem and believing in who I could be and what it would take to get there just seemed impossible. But no matter how many times I quit, those around me never gave up on me. Whenever I hit mental rock bottom I would receive a kind word, a chance to try something new, or something that would engage my drive to win. It never failed. When this would happen, I often would take for granted the gift I was being given and couldn’t say thank you. Or felt I needed to do even more just to be deserving of what I’d been given. People don’t always give to people expecting something in return. We give because it’s the right thing to do. We plant seeds in others so that they can grow and flourish in the ways that help everyone. This concept was so foreign to me because I was torn between being overly humble and too scared to be confident about my talents altogether.  It’s funny how blinded we can be by our own doubts and desires. Why is it hard to just be thankful? In this world, no man is an island. We rise with the aid of our brothers and sisters. The same as we fall. So many of the people I will be giving roses to this month are the reason I was able to see this. I want them to know how important they are. I want to have no regrets with those who invested in me. I pray that we all take time to thank those around us who’ve gone above and beyond the call of duty. I thank the head blogger of this site BibleStudyGirl once more for allowing me to do this. I hope all of you gain something from my stories and are able to give someone their roses while they are still here to smell them. #wepreach #giveroses

Growing up in the church for me was a lot like going to a family reunion every Sunday. I wasn’t related to everyone by blood, but my church was and still is, one of the places that feels like home. We in the black community are known to have a plethora of play cousins, aunts, and uncles just to name a few. My church was no different. I was blessed to be raised by all the church mothers. I wasn’t always the most confident person. I doubted myself daily and felt like the four-eyed kid with glasses couldn’t be as awesome as those around him. They never saw that. I remember once for my birthday Mrs. Beulah Hill got me a huge Hershey’s chocolate bar out of nowhere. I didn’t ask for it and yet there it was. I ate the entire bar by myself. It lived in the freezer when I wasn’t eating way more at a time than I should. She was always happy to see me. She made me feel special and important in a way that made me want to conquer the world. About 4 or 5 years ago, she got really sick. My mom told me she was in the hospital, and we went as soon as we could. I don’t know if she was aware we were there or if she knew how important she was to me. But the way her nurturing soul had brought a smile to my face, I would’ve been upset with myself if I didn’t go to say goodbye. I remember looking to the sky and asking God so many questions. I asked if she was upset with me because she didn’t get to see me live up to my potential. I was mad at myself for not getting to let her meet my wife who hadn’t come back into my life at the time. I wanted her to meet my kids. She was one of those people who would immediately notice if you’d grown a couple of inches and tell you how tall you’d gotten. Her marriage was something I saw and wanted for myself one day. She was one of the kindest souls I’ve ever known. The way God places people in our life to nurture the seeds of His love is unfathomable to me. The way the spirit moves and places relationships around us is a work of genius. People who see the things we can’t see and know God has a bigger purpose for us. They are amazed at our growth and know just the right thing to say to make it known. They are unselfish and do things just because it’s what they want to do. These saints are the pinnacle of service to your fellow man. I am thankful to have known Mrs. Beulah. I am grateful to have been someone she cared for. I thank God for the opportunity to share memories that won’t ever fade. I also thank God for the fact that legacies continue no matter what and all we have to do is pick up the mantle and continue to press forward. Amen. #wepreach #giverosesmonth

Back in the summer of 2004, I got to spend 3 weeks with my father at Arkansas Governor’s School. For those who don’t know, this is basically like a summer camp for what college will be like for Juniors before their Senior year in high school. This was a huge deal for me as I never really got to spend this much time with my dad so I was over the moon about it. I don’t know what I expected to get from my time up there, but what I got was something I’ll never forget. There were two Residential Assistants there who were pivotal in my experience, Everette Callaway and Tony Nash. For all the time that my Dad was busy working, I’d be with them going around to the dorms, sitting in on meetings, or whatever they were doing and had planned for the day. They didn’t treat me like some kid who was just an annoyance. I honestly felt like I had two big brothers who respected me. I learned so much and met so many people through them. I made friendships that I still cherish today. I have stories I will probably take to my grave or just share with the people involved in them that I still laugh about from time to time. I got to live something that I had only daydreamed about since the first time I got to see my Dad do his talk show night on campus. The reason this matters to me so much is the following year when I was up to attend Governor’s School for real, and not just as a tagalong, I didn’t get in. I felt my dreams had been shattered in front of me. I was so disappointed that I didn’t get to go, and I didn’t really even know how to deal with it. I remember feeling like all the things I wanted in my life were just slipping away. God, of course, stepped in at that moment and reminded me of the blessing he’d just given me last year around that time. He gave me something so unique and catered to who he wanted me to be. It was a reminder that you may “miss” out on things, but what are you really missing? When God chooses to give us purpose or fulfill us in other ways, it isn’t always something we notice immediately. He can hand us situations that will cause us to grow where we didn’t think possible. He restores us and places us where we need to be. I had the time of my life and got exactly what I wanted. I didn’t need to get something I already had. I am thankful to God for placing those two in my life had it not been for them I may have missed out on realizing how blessed I truly am. #wepreach #giveroses

There are so many stories I can tell about my mother and how much she has sacrificed for me and BibleStudyGirl. She is a shining example of Godly service and I don’t know where I’d be without her. One of the defining moments in my life that let me know how much she trusted God, and consequently how much faith she had in me, was before my first year of college. Now I’m not being mean to myself when I say this, but I wasn’t the most dedicated student in school. If you couldn’t tell from my post about my wife, I liked to write my own stories more than I liked paying attention to anything else. It wasn’t that I couldn’t do the work, but I just wasn’t as motivated as I should be. With all this being the case, I didn’t have many colleges, or any for that matter, knocking the door down to give me a scholarship to attend their school. So to get into college with my G.P.A, and to be able to make it out of state like I wanted, I was going to need to take out a loan. Now I’d never done anything like that and I didn’t even know how to in the first place. So my mom decided to give me a chance and do it for me. This came with a lot of rules and stipulations, mind you, but I didn’t have any other choice at the time. My mom did this for me without a mumbling word (to me at least lol.) She took a chance on me when I didn’t even know how to take a chance on myself. Without my knowledge at the time, she dealt with so many people telling her that this was the wrong move to do for me. So many that said I should just figure it out and that I wasn’t going to do what I needed to do. With all of this on her shoulders, she stood tall and still made a way for me to follow my dreams. Sadly, I didn’t make it but one year away from home before I had to come right back home. I didn’t fulfill my end of the bargain, and thus the time spent and the reward of accomplishing my goals were no longer in front of me. When I think of this time, I often focus very hard on how I failed. On how I lost a great opportunity and didn’t come through for my mom like I needed to. What God intended to show me here is that while I don’t deserve it, He shows me grace. My mother doesn’t rub in my face my failures. She instead pushes me to accept them and keep pushing forward. She is honest with me and allows me to know that my actions have real consequences if I’m not careful. She believes in me even when I don’t believe in myself. We forget sometimes that God gives us grace and love while we have done nothing worthy of it at all. He gives us a million chances to do what we need to do all because we are His. It doesn’t come without a whooping or two, but it’s still something to remember. I am so thankful that God has placed such a dutiful angel in my life. His example lives greatly in the woman He chose as the perfect mother for me. Thank You Ma Doodle I love ya. #wepreach #GiveRosesMonth

Today’s sermon recap is hot off the presses.  We have made it all the way to chapter 6 of Nehemiah.  Each week provides us with practical steps that we can take to rebuild the mess that we have made of our lives.  I do not know about you, but I am glad to have some help.  Enough babbling.  Let us get into the meat of Nehemiah 6. When the chapter begins, we find Nehemiah on the wall—building.  He is engrossed in his work.  His enemies have gotten word that the work on the wall has been totally completed.  Which is not totally accurate.  The hard work of the community has gotten them to the point that they are ready to hang the doors in the gates.  So while the wall is not completed, it is awfully close to being finished.  His enemies have gathered and send messages to Nehemiah to entice him to come down from the wall.  They say they that just want to meet to discuss some issues, but Nehemiah sends a message back saying that he cannot come down.  What makes Nehemiah continue the work? Nehemiah remembers why he started.  Ya’ll I am great at beginning a new task with vigor and enthusiasm.  My enthusiasm begins to wane the longer that it takes me to complete the task.  I welcome distractions.  Take for instance, writing this blog.  I start off knowing that I can smash my way through.  But any little ding on my phone can send me in downward Instagram spiral.  I forget why I started.  But not Nehemiah.  He is determined to finish what he has been blessed to begin.  He does not come down from the wall. See, the thing about coming down from the wall is that it conflicts with his assignment.  God did not call him to have side conversations with his enemies.  God honored Nehemiah’s prayer and gave him the responsibility of overseeing the completion of the wall.  Lord, give me the same commitment that Nehemiah has.  When enemies or people come at me sideways, my first instinct is to stoop to their level.  Forget my assignment.  I get to thinking that I have been called to put people in their place.  And Satan just rejoices when that happens.  Ya’ll anything that conflicts with our assignment does not deserve our attention.  We have work to do.  We have our own walls to complete and that requires us to remain focused. Nehemiah essentially held on to what had kept him all along.  He realized that distractions were strong, but ultimately God was stronger than any distraction.  He cried out to God and asked God to strengthen his hands.  We have already seen God move and work in Nehemiah’s favors.  He takes his problems with his enemies to THE only One that can handle it.  What an on-time reminder.  Nehemiah’s enemies got stirred up when they thought the wall was completed.  They were intimidated by the power of the God Nehemiah served and wanted to do their level best to destroy his work.  This entire series has challenged me to look at where I stand in the building process.  Have I even picked up one of the dusty bricks that are around me, or am I just going along to get along?  Just know that I have been working on the rebuild, and it is messy work.  Distractions come from every angle, and today’s sermon reminded me why.  Satan does his level best to destroy God’s magnificent works in progress.  Especially when they are nearing completion.  But we have to stay on the wall.  Don’t you dare come down until the work is complete.  #wepreach Questions to Ponder: Name one character issue that you have that needs to be corrected. Do you consciously work to improve it? Why or why not? When was the last time that outside influences distracted you from an assignment? What were the negative consequences of the distraction? What were the positive consequences of the distraction?

Hey ya’ll.  I am back for a couple of days.  Hope you missed me.  I missed you!  It would be absolutely absurd to let the day go by without acknowledging the history that has occurred this weekend.  Vice President-elect Kamala Harris is on her way to the White House.  First woman to become Vice President.  First Black person period to ever occupy the office.  What a day. This is not a big deal for people that see themselves represented in mainstream media daily.  This is not a big deal for folks that believe that racism is a myth.  But for me…a black woman living in a harsh world.  It’s a really big deal.  I do not know about you, but I had to check multiple sources to verify that what I was seeing was true.  And it was.  In my lifetime, I have seen the first Black President and first black Vice President be elected in the United States. Clearly, the real work lies ahead.  A simple scroll through my Facebook timeline shows that the evangelicals are up in arms about this election.  In their eyes, it is a sign that the world is coming to an end.  They are fasting and praying for a miracle and turn around.  But I did not see that same energy or frustration when they saw images of immigrants’ children locked in cages or Black men and women being murdered because of the color of their skin.  They did not lie prostrate when the current President spewed hate and showed no empathy for others.  I digress. Let’s continue to pray for these not currently United States of America.  I am picking up the vibe that evangelicals are putting out.  I, too, am fasting and praying for a miracle and a turn around.  We need to know what real love looks like.  I can claim Christ all day and hold a Bible, but the fruit that I bear shows what kind of tree I am.  I am praying that Christians truly understand what it means to be Christ-like.  I am praying that we will be obedient to the Holy Spirit.  I am praying that the Vice President-elect is not the only positive history that will be made.  #wepreach

The first friend I ever made in life was Bible Study Girl. She was my best friend in fact, and the only person I ever wanted to play with outside of my cousins. I trusted her and still do trust her with my life because, in my eyes, she is truth personified. She protected me and even beat someone up who tried to bully me one time. Anyone who knows me will know that I love my sister with everything that is in me. She took me on my first date, gets all of my jokes, and without trying makes me feel comfortable being me. She’s my sounding board and so much more that it’d take longer than this blog post to document everything she is. I am so appreciative of her. If you follow the website diligently, you will have read that one of the most difficult times in my life was when she and I had the biggest falling out we’ve ever had. I felt alone and like I’d lost the one person that made me feel sane in this world outside of my wife and mother. The burden of our disagreement weighed heavily on me and I was unable to move. “What have I done to deserve this God?” is what I asked. “Is doing what I felt led to do by You going to cost me one of my most precious relationships?” The long and short answer is no. What God intended was not to take away what had been safe for me, but once more He was calling for me to trust the safety that was always in Him. He was calling for me to know that He would restore and rebuild our relationship in his image. We’d been needing restoration for longer than we were aware of. I’d never attempted to look at our bond through His eyes. He placed in us great talents that needed to be reawakened and restructured so His name would get the glory. Often we find a way to use our talents in ways that please the flesh and lack any resemblance of the God who bestowed them upon us. He wanted us to be bigger and better. He placed in her a situation that required me to be someone completely different than I’d ever been to her. The blog was born and then the podcast. All because God’s plan for us was so mighty that He had to shake us up a bit. When the seasons change in our lives and relationships begin to change, it can be scary. The one thing I know in all of this is that God will use whatever He has to grow us. He is the friend who will never leave and the best friend to have through everything. Thank you, God for allowing me to have a servant as faithful and giving as the one I call big sister. #wepreach #GiveRosesMonth

 I remember back when I was in 10th grade. One of the most prophetic days of my life. I was sitting behind my future wife who just didn’t know it. Or rather didn’t want to show that she knew this to be true, and I was in deep thought. I wasn’t paying attention to class at all. There was something much more important on my mind. See, at the time I wrote a lot of poetry. So I would constantly have a composition notebook with me and my only desire would be to write whatever came to mind. Whether it was a song or a poem, I just had to fulfill that need. Today’s need was centered around getting my future wife to notice me. Since 9th grade, the only person truly in my sight was her. I needed to prove that to her. So first I ran through some titles and was doing my best to start with something that would call to her attention how much I cared for her and wanted her in my life. My wife has, and will always be, one of the most spiritual people I know. Even more so was this case during high school where it can be easy to just fall into whatever the crowd is doing and not follow God. I wasn’t anywhere near the man of God I am today but, something in her made me want to be. Like a flash of lightning that’s when it hit me. The title would be “I See God In Your Eyes.” I started writing with a fury. Not knowing what was going down on the paper but allowing my “heart” to guide me through each and every rhyme. When I finished it I was satisfied and happy with myself and knew that this would be the one. This would be the day she’d see me. I gave her the poem along with two others I’d ended up writing that day and much to my dismay she wasn’t my girlfriend by the end of it. I felt defeated. I’d pulled out my spiritual card. I too had shown I knew the God she served. It wasn’t until years later after we’d finally started dating only to break up that God showed me what He meant for me to see that day. I did see God in her eyes but, not how I needed to see Him. For so long, I’d been living life under my terms with His as an afterthought and not as the forefront of my life. How was I supposed to get a Godly woman when I was only using God as a prop? He knew what He wanted from me in those words, and so he structured my path to make it come true. I needed to see God and only God. He placed himself in her eyes just to say “Hello Joe. I’d like for us to get to know each other.” This was such a strong moment for me in my life, and I am so grateful and thankful to God for allowing my Gray Rose to show me that. He placed a gift in front of me that I wasn’t ready for so I would seek Him to get ready. It’s an amazing thing how He shows himself to us daily in ways we notice and in ways we don’t. No matter what is going on everything happens for a reason. I am truly grateful for my wife and thankful beyond measure that it was her walk with God that allowed me to begin to walk with Him too. #wepreach #GiveRosesMonth

The picture attached to this blog is an oldy but a goody. Bible Study Brother and I are in our grandmother’s apartment in St. Louis. I have on my red, green, and yellow striped outfit that is perfectly accented by my Bugs Bunny earrings. Bible Study Brother has on an oversized t-shirt and his signature childhood glasses. We are smiling and happy. And right beside us on the couch is the Holy Bible. How ironic that we are living the life that was portrayed in that photo taken long ago. We still have questionable fashion choices. We are still smiling and happy. And right beside us is the Holy Bible. Our journey to get to this point has been full of valleys and steep mountains. At times, we plotted and planned together on how to get over on our parents. (I’ll admit that I was the mastermind, and he was a willing accomplice.) Other times found us at odds with each other. Neither one of us willing to budge. No compromise in sight. Just stuck in the valley. But there has been a change within the last couple of years. We have worked to help each other climb out of the valley and navigate up the mountain. Much like he had to help Bible Study Mama up Dunns River Falls, Bible Study Brother has helped me climb out of some dark days. He really had to pull me up on some days and tell me that the view would be better the higher that I climb. He did not let my smart mouth deter him either. He refused to let me give up. And in turn, I have pushed him to continue to climb when life gets a little too steep. The Bible Study Girl blog has been going for over a year with minimal breaks for me. Occasionally, guest contributors submit their writing, but the bulk of the responsibility is mine. I am honored that the Lord gave me this assignment. It is perfectly tailored for me, but it is one of those mountain experiences as well. It is challenging and makes muscles sore that I did not even know existed. Today is Bible Study Brother’s birthday, and I could not think of a more perfect time to make this announcement. On Sunday, Bible Study Brother asked if he could take over the blog for much of November so that he could give roses to the people that have blessed his life. What an on-time blessing for me. I need time to be refreshed. Sermon recaps will be mine, but his voice will be loud and clear throughout the rest of the week. Can I tell you something? Even though I have been wanting a break, when the opportunity was presented I got a little sad. A piece of me will be missing. But don’t fret. Ya’ll are in great hands. The guy in the picture has been a great friend and companion throughout the years. After this blog, the next voice that you will hear will be that of Bible Study Brother. [Read that in your “announcing the guest preacher” voice.] Don’t forget to tell my little brother happy birthday!!!! #wepreach #giverosesmonth

The political climate has been tense, to say the least.  I have actively encouraged everyone to get out and vote.  The final day to exercise your right to vote in the Presidential election has arrived.  Today is the day.  I do not have any drawn-out speeches or eloquent words to offer.  I do have a mustard seed sized hope and faith that the day will go smoothly.  And the Word says that you just need a mustard seed amount of faith.  I am praying for peace and order throughout the day.  If you have not yet voted, please do not just sit here reading this.  GO VOTE! (I made it short, so you could not say that I took up too much time….NOW VOTE!)  #wepreach

Our journey through the book of Nehemiah has been right on time in my life.  At one point in time, the Christian streets were ablaze with the prayer of Jabez.  We wanted God to enlarge our territories.  We wanted all that He had for us, but there is a problem.  Some of us cannot handle increase.  When we are elevated, we start talking out of the side of our necks.  We forget where we came from.  Nehemiah has moved from prayer to promise.  God provided Nehemiah what he asked for and then some.  Sunday’s sermon reminded us that while we should rise up to the call that God has placed on our lives, we should also remain humble. Nehemiah 5:14-19 places us smack dab in the middle of Nehemiah’s increase.  When the work began on the rebuilding of the wall, Nehemiah was basically a foreman.  He oversaw the construction.  As time has passed, Nehemiah has been elevated to the position of governor.  Thankfully, Nehemiah did not use this promotion as an opportunity to walk around like the big man on campus.  Governors that served previously took from the people, but Nehemiah chose to operate differently in his elevation.  Since his life was better, he was committed to making the lives of the people better.  He prepared enough food for 500 people to eat daily.  Like every day.  EVERY DAY.  And asked nothing of them because he knew that it would have been a hardship on them.  How many of us can say that we have that level of humility?  While I am not a selfish person, hearing of his level of commitment to making life better for others surely challenges me to step my game up. Nehemiah was grateful for his blessings, and he also remained focused on his assignment.  This is the part where many of us fall off.  More money.  Nicer cars.  Bigger houses.  Being the first in our family to graduate from high school or college.  And we get distracted.  We start smelling ourselves as the old folks say.  When our physical needs are met without as much struggle, when our relationships are intact with little strife, and our finances are on point, we lose sight of our need for connection to God.  We do not use our time to do what He has asked us to do.  Nehemiah continued to build.  Ya’ll increase is an opportunity for us to reach more people.  Blessings should propel us to work harder. Every elevation or promotion that we receive is bigger than us.  Nehemiah was no fool.  He continued to put God first and asked God to remember him.  Nehemiah was not working for himself.  He was working to restore God’s people.  The church had been in shambles long enough.  His obedience to God led to a visual symbol of the God’s strength and power.  Well, there it is.  Our Christian walk is bigger than us.  When we rise up and forget about the God that raised us, we are in danger of leading others astray.  We were not called to build ourselves up.  We were called to lift up the name of Christ.  When we lift His name, He draws all to Himself. Yes, we have been called to rise up, but we should stay humble.  God wants His children to prosper.  The sad reality is that many of us only have prosperous relationships with God because of our struggles.  I do not know about you, but I want more than that.  God should be able to prosper us in all areas of our life and know that we will remain committed to Him.  Well, I am volunteering to be elevated.  Do not worry.  I know where my help comes from.  #wepreach Raise your thinking and answer these questions: Name ways that you make the lives of others around you better. This is not a hypothetical list. Think of ways that you currently make a difference. Are you a team player? Why or why not?

Outrageous October marched out much the way that it marched in.  Bible Study Mama and I committed to walking 4 miles each day for the first seven days of the month.  Now, that tested and tried us, but we finished that goal.  We were halfway to reaching our goal of walking sixty miles in the month of October.  You would think that the rest of the miles would have come easily.  Well, you thought wrong. The other twenty-four days remaining in the month were full of challenges.  This proved to be the busiest month that I have had in 2020.  My schedule was jam packed.  Although I lean towards the dramatic side, trust me when I say that I am pooped.  My normal bedtime ranges between 9:30 p.m. and 10 p.m.  Outrageous October had me going to bed at around 1 a.m. and then getting up in the morning and starting all over again. October 30th rolled around, and I still needed to walk 3.5 miles to complete my goal.  Bible Study Mama and I decided that we would be able to skip our usual Saturday morning walk if, and only if, we completed our miles.  When I tell you those were the hardest, longest, miles of my life, they were the hardest, longest, miles of my life.  I felt like I was walking through Jell-O.  There was no point in asking if we were there yet.  We walked this trail all the time.  I knew we were not there yet.  We finally finished, and I was so relieved. My body was relieved too.  I was able to wake up naturally on Saturday morning, and then hit the ground running.  A long day to end a long month.  Even though I wanted to opt out of many obligations during the month, I stayed the course.  I gave all that I could.  How could I not?  The older I get, the more that I appreciate the opportunity to use everything that the Lord has given me.  Even when it is not convenient.  Even when it does not come easily to me. November needs a calmer nickname.  Let’s see.  Nice November.  Nerdy November.  New November.  Nifty November.  I got it!  Nourishing November.  Listen, Thanksgiving is coming, and I anticipate a downright feast.  Plus, I am looking to be nourished spiritually, mentally, financially, and physically.  Yup.  I like this little nickname.  Do not worry guys.  I will keep you posted on how this new month rolls along.  #wepreach

If a picture is worth 1,000 words, then my facial expressions are worth 10,000 words.  When I think something, it is written all over my face.  Wearing face masks has not only helped slow the spread of COVID-19, it has also helped disguise my true thoughts about many situations.  Well, at least when I am in public places. See, the trouble with wearing masks all the time is that I have gotten used to being carried away with my facial expressions.  I have spent months wearing my feelings on my face and no one has been the wiser.  Well, except for the fact that I have had 800 million Zoom meetings.  Personal and professional.  And in the past two weeks, I have heard “what does that face mean?” more than I care to recount.  The years of my mama telling me to fix my face flashed through my head.  She tried to help me get it together for years.  I was doing alright until this pandemic messed it all up. Facial expressions and non-verbal body language convey much more than words do at times.  One of my staple statements is “look at my face” when I am about to reprimand a kid.  Which is not as effective with a mask on, but it still gets the job done.  My words should match my facial expression.  They both should reinforce the message that I want to convey.  Just keep me on the prayer list ya’ll.  The struggle is real, and my face shows it on a regular basis.  That’s why I need to stay prayed up.  My face and my words need to match up.  Much like my faith and my actions need to line up.  It does me no good to say that I love the Lord but live a raggedy lifestyle.  Folks will be asking me “what does this lifestyle mean?”  That’s just not a good look.  I need a fixed face and a fixed faith.  #wepreach

Adulting is not for the faint of heart.  See, in my mind, I was grown long before I was actually a grown adult.  If you were a fly on the wall around eighteen-year-old Sareta, you would hear some interesting thoughts and opinions.  Baby when I graduated high school and went off to college, you could NOT tell me that I was not an adult.  So what if I did not pay for my own things?  The high school diploma was my ticket for entrance into adult life. Clearly, I had lots to learn.  My first semester in college was glorious.  Do not tell my mama, but I stayed up all hours of the night.  I went all over with my friends.  You should also be aware that my version of kicking it, and most folks version of kicking it are two completely different things.  I was just happy to come and go as I pleased without breaking a curfew. Things were great until they were not great.  I had been up late the night before, so I slept in one day.  Up until this point, I had not missed any classes.  I was diligent to make it in to each one of them no matter how exhausted I was.  I thought to myself that being grown was being able to take a day off.  I was taking charge of my life.  When a friend called and asked if I wanted to go to Little Rock, I quickly accepted.  Even though I knew I was supposed to do a presentation in class that day. Now, I have no idea what all we did that day.  None of it was pressing or important.  I just wanted to live my adult life my way.  After I got in from my excursion, I e-mailed my professor to discuss making up my assignment.  You may not believe this, but she told me that was a no go.  <Insert record screech>  Well, this did not go as planned.  The assignment was a big portion of my overall grade for the semester.  Ummmm, what happened to being able to do things my way? My foray into “adulthood” led me right into a “B” for the course.  Let me tell you, that crushed me.  That “B” was like a big old “F” for failure.  And I had definitely failed to grasp what being an adult really meant.  Quite often, being an adult means that you do NOT get to do what your flesh wants to do.  Being an adult means that you are responsible.  It means that you know better.  It means that you do better.  I learned my lesson after my first semester of flying by the seat of my pants.  I settled in and focused on accomplishing the mission that was at hand.  May your adulting days land you one step closer to completing the work that has been assigned to you.  #wepreach

Love.  You cannot turn on the radio without hearing a song about it.  One of the songs that echo in my ears from my childhood church says, “We are one in the Spirit.  We are one in the Lord.  We are one in the Spirit.  We are one in the Lord.  And we pray that all unity may one day be restored.  And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.  Yes, they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”  I remember singing this song while playing outside.  It had a catchy tune that was great for my skipping.  At that time, I could not even begin to comprehend the kind of love that song talks about. Although I have heard about love in its many splendid forms throughout the years, lately I have been flooded with Biblical teaching about love.  This entire quarter of our Sunday School lessons is centered around love.  Love between family members, love for the world, and that God love—that agape love.  The Bible study that I am completing with friends took an entire week exploring love.  We moved from that passionate love, to the brotherly love, and finally settled in that agape love.  Love, love, love. Clearly, the good Lord knows that I need to grasp this important concept.  I am quite sure that I am not alone.  I am most comfortable thinking of the love between friends, family, and lovers.  That agape love—that God love—is next level.  That love is not about a feeling.  That love is all about demonstration.  Whether the person is kind or rude.  Lost or saved.  It is an all-encompassing love.  No man left behind kind of love.  And let me be frank.  I struggle to exhibit this kind of love. I am guilty of judging.  I can be found trying to get the last word in or averting my eyes when I see someone coming my way that looks like they may be about to beg.  I do not always monitor my tone of voice when speaking to others.  I may not give when I feel the Holy Spirit telling me to give.  I may sit silently when I know that someone needs to be affirmed.  I let my feelings rule my actions and say that maybe I’ll agape people another day. But that song from my childhood church has been getting louder inside of me every day.  I am identified as a child of God by my love.  Not by my church membership.  Or my blog writing.  Not by the “blessed” signs that adorn my home.  Not by the cross I sometimes wear around my neck.  The agape love requires me yielding to the Holy Spirit every day and in every way.  The Holy Spirit is the only way I will ever be able to even come close to agape. I challenge you, and myself, to be intentional about loving all people.  ALL people.  Listen, I know that is a tough ask.  Especially in the year of our Lord 2020 with all the mess that is going on right now.  Especially when my flesh is screaming, “No!!!”  I have shared before that I use confirmation to help me know God’s voice, and this love thing is everywhere that I turn around.  Although I want to hide from it, the good Lord will not let me.  Child, just keep praying that I can be identified by my love.  #wepreach

Did ya’ll know that kids grow, change, and mature?  They learn new information constantly.  Do not laugh at me.  I mean, I KNEW that about kids, but I forgot to apply that knowledge.  Sweet Baby called me a couple of weeks ago.  She wanted to schedule a sleepover.  It was long overdue, so I gave her the go-ahead.  We set a date and got ready to party. Sleep over day arrived.  We partied hard.  Watched a movie.  Painted a pumpkin.  Chit chatted about life.  She devoted much of her time to loving on Fitz, my cat.  He finally gave up and allowed her to love on him without complaint.  We were pooped.  Sleep was welcome for both of us.  The next day dawned beautifully. Sweet Baby woke up saying good morning, and the next words out of her mouth were a request for breakfast.  Now, I forgot to let you know that Sweet Baby has definitive ideas about foods.  She is often reluctant to try foods that are outside of her normal repertoire.  I made sure to have a good variety of lunch, dinner, and snack options.  I completely forgot about breakfast.  No worries.  I had cereal and….almond milk. Almond milk is a staple in my home.  Unfortunately, I knew that Sweet Baby was probably going to be opposed to that idea.  See the thing is, she always has almond milk when she is at my house.  I just do not let her know it.  Remember that I said that kids grow, change, and mature?  I forgot the girl can read now.  She asked if I was pouring almond milk into her cereal.  Busted.  She scrunched her face up but gave it a try.  Then she said, it was actually delicious.  Crisis averted. For years, I have attended church and had great meaty principles available.  Unfortunately, I was not in a position to really appreciate and understand the information.  I felt that some of the concepts were beyond me.  They were too weighty to really take in.  I just did not have a taste for them.  Here lately, I have been focusing on chewing the meat that has been placed in front of me.  Listen, it has taken some concentration.  I am working hard not to choke and get overwhelmed.  I have found it to be quite delicious.  Guess I’m growing, changing, and maturing.  #wepreach

We have reached week four of our journey with Nehemiah.  A man who is not a pastor or a priest.  He is not a bishop or a prophet.  He is a man who was dedicated to the call of God on his life.  I do not know about you, but every sermon speaks to a tender place in my heart.  They challenge me to do better and be better.  You already know that Sunday’s sermon was no exception to this trend. Nehemiah 4 lands us in the middle of this reconstruction of the walls.  We have moved beyond prayer to action.  Each family is tending to their section.  They are hard at work.  Although much of the wall lies in ruins, the walls are beginning to take shape.  They have made it about halfway through construction.  And wouldn’t you know it?  Sanballat, their enemy, can see their progress.  Initially, Sanballat makes fun of them.  After all, they are using scorched stones to rebuild.  Things that are typically cast away.  I have so much in common with those stones.  Messed up and needing to be cast aside, but God sees purpose for me.  He picks me up and uses me.  When the enemy sees God’s intention to use us despite our condition, he moves from making fun of us to making moves against us.  Much like Nehemiah’s enemies.  The progress of the builders become a non-laughing matter to them.  They get together and devise a plan to attack Jerusalem and cause confusion.  They want the construction of the wall to be stopped.  They want Jerusalem to remain in ruins.  You do know that Satan wants us to remain in ruins, right?  It is no coincidence that I can eat a healthy diet for two days and then want to dive into a bag of cookies.  It is not happenstance that all hell breaks loose in families after things began to move in a positive direction.  But, we do not have to take these attacks lying down. Nehemiah, the lay person, reminds the builders of the source of their strength.  They have grown discouraged.  Remember, this wall is only halfway completed. Yes, they have made progress but looking around at the remaining rubble was discouraging.  They had so much farther to go until they were finished.  Nehemiah equips members of the families with swords, spears, and bows.  He charges them to have faith to continue building and gives them tools to fight in case the enemy descends upon them.  He lets them know that their security and strength does not lie in the state of the wall.  Their security and strength reside within the Lord.  The enemies got word that Jerusalem was prepared for attack, and God brought their plot to nothing.  The families of Jerusalem continued to work on building the wall. We have to be prepared to fight.  As long as we are working, Satan is not going to be satisfied.  He does not want to see us healthy and whole.  He does not want us to be assured and confident.  His plots can be brought to nothing if we arm ourselves.  We need to read God’s word for ourselves.  When situations are challenging, we can quote scripture to help us fight through our disappointment and discouragement.  We also need to build communities around us that share our faith.  It gets hard to build and watch your back at the same time.  Community allows us to work while knowing that we are surrounded by people that will step in at any moment to stop the enemies attack. Building is hard work but so necessary for our survival.  We will face seasons of discouragement, but we have the choice to let them only be seasons.  We have to be willing to fight through and complete our mission.  Now, stand guard for me while I continue to build.  #wepreach Questions to consider: Name three character strengths that you possess. Name three character weaknesses that you possess. What spiritual disciplines do you currently use to mature areas of weakness? Describe your community (family, friends, etc.). Do they enable your weakness or encourage you to work to improve?

Good morning!  Good afternoon!  Good evening!  Whatever time of the day that you are reading this, I hope that you are in good spirits.  That your mind is clear and that your heart is overflowing with love.  If they are not, I understand.  I certainly have spent my fair share of days in the dooms and glooms.  Days where situations that were out of my control affected my mood.  However, I have realized that I have more power than I think. Saturday morning was cold.  COLD!  Do you hear me?  Although Bible Study Mama and I have been getting out in nature on Saturday mornings for our walks, the forecasted temperature had us doubting our decision.  We bundled up and soldiered on for our walk.  At one point, Bible Study Mama said, “We should be making really good time for this mile.”  Her statement made me ask if I was setting the pace or if she was setting the pace.  She let me know that she was just trying to keep up with me.  Now, I had been suffering in silence.  Throughout the mile, I had been thinking to myself, “This weather is really making her move quickly.”  I chose to do my best to keep up with her pace.  I pushed through and did not ask her to slow down to accommodate my body.  I just fell into her pace.  But clearly, we both had a misconstrued idea of the person that was actually setting the pace. In that moment, I understood part of my struggle in the past week.  I am guilty of trying to keep up with people that move at paces that I cannot sustain.  While it is good to have people that push you and move you out of your comfort zone, walking at full speed for sustained periods of time leads to injury.  I am supposed to run the race set before me at the pace that is appropriate for me.  Child, I walked too fast in my life this week and caused a minor injury.  I hurt myself because I wanted to keep up. Thank God for grace, mercy, and the sense to call an audible.  In my quiet time with God, I asked for direction in my life.  I asked Him to show me His will.  I asked the Holy Spirit to set the pace.  And He did.  He told me to slow down.  In my rush to get to an expected end, I was racing towards destruction.  Do not be like the me from this past week.  Allow God to set the pace for your life in all areas.  #wepreach

Early voting began on Monday in Arkansas.  On that first day, people stood in line for hours.  They were excited to have the opportunity to exercise their constitutional right to vote.  I did not join the masses on Monday, but I was excited to place my vote on Thursday right after work.  I just barely slid in before the after-work crowd. I am always surprised when I meet people that do not vote.  Although I am well into my thirties, I vividly remember our Civil Rights Movement unit from the second grade.  As a child, I was dumbfounded to discover that Black America had to fight for their right to vote.  I cried real tears when we watched videos of Civil Rights leaders on the front lines fighting for my entire race.  I was amazed to see people being sprayed with water hoses.  I could not comprehend why police dogs were released on people because they wanted their voice to be heard.  Those lessons pushed and propelled me to be excited to vote. While it is important to exercise our right to vote, it is equally important to be informed of all the issues that will appear on the ballot.  I started my research on candidates weeks ago, but I neglected to really dig into the issues that would be up for a vote.  If you need information about issues that are on the ballot in the Central Arkansas area, you can go to St. Luke Missionary Baptist Church’s Facebook page and watch this week’s Wednesday Refresh.  LaTonya Laird Austin explained many of the issues on the ballot.  You can press play and listen on your way to work, while you wash dishes, or whatever else you need to get done. The climate in our country should propel everyone to get to the ballot box.  Or if you are an absentee voter, it should propel you to the post office to get your ballot in the mail.  We all have a vote, and we need to make it count.  #wepreach

Now let’s have a little talk with Jesus.  Tell Him all about our troubles.  He will hear our faintest cry and answer by and by.  His answer would likely be that we need to practice more self-care.  I know, I know.  Saints and aint’s get put off by topics that seem too “woo woo.”  The saints are disturbed because the phrase “self-care” does not appear in the King James Version of the Bible that they live by.  The aint’s are disturbed because they are tired of the focus on mental health.  They would rather just go along to get along.  Enough with all this self-care business. Good thing I am not listening to either crowd.  Self-care is vital to the survival of self.  Sometimes in our efforts to achieve the American dream, we end up sacrificing ourselves.  Our peace.  Our ability to really enjoy the dream that we chased so hard after.  What does self-care look like?  What does that mean?  Glad you asked.  Google defines self-care as “the practice of taking action to preserve or improve one’s own health.”  Thanks Google.  The Sareta definition defines self-care as “anything you do to love on yourself.” Self-care for me includes taking time to have hot, relaxing baths.  I give myself facials with expired products.  I paint my fingernails and toenails.  I light candles and lay in the dark in silence.  I love on myself and give myself time to breathe.  Deep breaths.  I remove the pressure to race to the next activity.  I unplug. Now, I promise I understand.  Although self-care is crucial, I do not make nearly enough time for it.  How sad is that?  I know that I am not alone.  Within the next seven days, find 30 minutes to love on yourself.  Yes.  Yourself.  Not your wife.  Your husband.  Your kids.  Your parents. (Although, you should love all the people I just mentioned…lol)  This time is just for you.  The reality is that we are better able to love on others when we take time to recharge ourselves.  #wepreach

What are you believing God for?  It is not a rhetorical question.  I really want you to think about it.  I really want you to think about it.  I am going to be honest with you.  Sometimes, I feel like I wear God out.  With my questions.  With my requests.  With my desires.  It was not that long ago that I realized that I had stopped believing.  I had stopped expecting. Writing the blog has stirred up my expectancy.  You can go back and read the blog “I’m Expecting” and feel the excitement leap off the screen.  My hunger and hope were renewed and revived.  I wanted more.  Dreamed bigger.  Expected the impossible. Enough time has passed that the excitement has began to wane.  My stomach no longer had the tingles.  I do not look around every corner with the thought that this is the moment.  Until I heard that sermon about being relentless.  Ya’ll it sat with me.  It stirred up the tingles.  It renewed my excitement.  And guess what?  My relentless pursuit of Jesus and His plans for my life has really renewed and revived me. It is so easy for us to become weary in well-doing.  It is so easy to stop hoping in the face of hopeless circumstances.  I challenge you on this hump day to dare to start believing God for miracles again.  Stir up hope.  Stir up your expectations.  He is faithful.  #wepreach

Trauma.  An icky subject that people do not like to talk about. Maybe because they do not realize that they have been impacted by the trauma in their lives.  2019 was a big turning point in my life.  Instead of just carrying my trauma around, I really started to dive into my core issues.  I put on a wetsuit and googles and got right in the face of the issues that dwell right below the surface.  Although they lived right below the surface, trust me when I say that they were really difficult to drag back to shore. The more work that I put in to being a healthier and more whole person, the more weighed down I sometimes feel.  You know the feeling you get when you reach dry land after being weightless in the water?  That feeling.  I know that it comes because I have exposed more work that needs to be done.  Experiencing trauma of any kind can cause us to react to situations from a place of trauma.  I did not fully understand or grasp this concept until I attended a class about healthy mindsets.  The therapist had an entire slideshow about healthy reactions to certain situations and unhealthy reactions to the same situations.  I was amazed to discover that my mindset was not the mindset of a healthy person quite often.  I reacted to many of the situations from a place of trauma and mistrust.  More issues to drag to the shore and address. But honestly ya’ll, I am so thankful that I put that wet suit on and got to work.  If I had not started to be intentional about monitoring my responses, I know that I would have missed out on some of the sweet moments that I am getting to experience now.  Trauma took a lot from me, but it did not take all of me.  It did not win.  If you are living a life that is burdened because of past hurts, you do not have to continue that way.  Yes, Jesus heals and saves.  100%!  I am also an advocate for finding people on this earth that you can share your burdens with.  People who can guide you towards a more balanced and healthy life.  It might be a pastor.  It may be a therapist.  It may be a trusted friend.  You have the power to choose to triumph over trauma.  I am rooting for us all to win.  #wepreach

Happy Monday!  This may be your very first time ever reading this blog.  I do not want you to be hopelessly lost.  I’ll do my best to get you up to speed quickly.  My church is currently in the midst of a “Rise Up!” campaign.  We are deeply entrenched in the book of Nehemiah.  Every week, we learn more of his story.  Bit by bit, we are given tools that will help us craft a life that is full of purpose.  Hopefully, today’s sermon recap will add to the arsenal of tools that have already been given out. This week’s sermon finds us in Nehemiah 3.  Nehemiah is no longer praying and waiting for the walls of Jerusalem to be rebuilt.  The rebuilding has actually started.  The third chapter chronicles the builders of the wall.  No, really.  The entire chapter lists the people that built the wall and those that built beside them.  It goes on and on and on.  Let me be completely honest.  In my quest to finish my reading of the Bible in its entirety, this chapter would get a thorough skimming.  I would leap around to see if there was a word that leaped out at me that indicated something different or a change.  However, this list has importance.  Thank God for a Pastor that does not skim.  We will circle back to this list in a minute. Rebuilding destroyed walls is no small feat.  It requires determination.  It requires commitment.  It requires focus and always remembering your “why.”  Nehemiah is rebuilding a physical wall that is a symbol of the brokenness of Jerusalem.  The ruins of the city give the church a bad name.  We may not have physical ruins that we walk amongst, but the church of today certainly has walls that are in need of repair.  We have broken others ability to trust that we love them.  We have destroyed the walls of safety that should exist to shield people from the attacks of the enemy.  And we need to repair them.  Not to make our names great in the church community.  We need to rebuild the walls for the glory of God. So how do we do that?  One brick at a time.  The list provided in Nehemiah 3 tells of families standing in front of their own homes working on the ruins around them.  Then it would say who was standing next them repairing their section.  Section by section.  Brick by brick.  The wall began to take shape.  Each person was responsible for their section.  Hmmm…I wonder what each of us needs to put our hands on to get the ruins in our lives back in shape?  Instead of trying to take charge of everything, we need to focus on what is in front of us.  We need to be intentional about repairing the things that are within our reach.  Like our poor attitudes.  Our weakened prayer lives.  The way we mistreat our family members.  We need to rebuild. Anyone who has ever dealt with construction knows that renovations always take longer than we expect.  This is not an overnight process, but we must be willing to put in the work.  The best repairs are those that are not rushed.  God does not want us to construct walls with bricks that are placed haphazardly.  He wants the best of us.  Each week in this sermon series, we have been given tools to help us level up our masonry skills.  Let’s stop walking among the ruins and start rebuilding.  #wepreach Questions to Ponder: What skills do you currently have that you do not use for the glory of God? Name ways that you can positively contribute to your community. Do you live your life on purpose? Are you mindful of your “why?” Do you believe that today’s church has a bad name? If so, what can be done to change it?

Perspective is so important.  Sweet Baby was explaining one of her games to me.  She proudly proclaimed, “I have $322 in this game.  I’m rich!”  For most of us, having a net worth of $322 would be distressing.  That would not cover rent or all our utilities.  A family of four would certainly find themselves in a precarious situation if that was all they had.  But in Sweet Baby’s eyes, that money is astounding. It’s all about perspective.  My perspective has certainly been a little off.  I am guilty of having my sights focused on the wrong things.  I have heard it said many times, from many sources, that we have to recognize that God is bigger than our problems.  When I focus on my issues, the strength and power of God get placed in my peripheral vision.  I always know that He is there, but I have pushed Him to the edges of my sight. Let’s shift our perspective.  We are always focusing on something.  I think that we need to be more mindful to keep our focus on God.  He created us.  He will sustain us.  I am giving myself grace as I practice this focus on a daily basis.  Bit by bit.  I did not make it this far into dysfunction overnight.  My journey to a healthier place will take time, but I am glad that I have started to make the trek.  May your day be full of sweet moments that challenge your field of focus.  #wepreach

For the past year, I have been very self-reflective and introspective.  I have been doing the work of getting to the core of my issues.  It has not been a pretty journey.  As a matter of fact, it has been downright ugly.  While I do not like some of the things I see, I thank God that I am beginning to see myself as I truly am.  Flawed…but God’s treasured possession none the less. This week has been all about acknowledging where I am.  In this space.  In this moment.  Not thinking about the past.  Not worrying about the future.  Focusing on where I am at this specific moment in time.  Which is difficult for me.  I generally focus on preparing myself for the moments that will come.  In my rush to be prepared for an uncertain future, I neglect to appreciate my present. Life has reminded me that each second we have on this earth is precious.  While planning is great, slowing down and embracing our now has tremendous value as well.  Just indulge me as I take a deep breath and appreciate my here and now.  I am grateful that I can feel this cold tile beneath my feet as I type.  It means that the nerves in my feet are functioning appropriately.  I am grateful for the app on my phone that I just used to turn my heat on.  It means that my electric, gas, and cell phone bill have been paid in full.  I am grateful for the sound of Fitz’s water fountain running.  That means that my ears are working as they should.  I am thankful for the air that I am breathing.  My fingers that are typing.  My mind that is forming sentences so rapidly that my fingers cannot keep up. I get it ya’ll.  Life is overwhelming.  Who has time to sit and think of all the things that we are grateful for?  I am hoping that you do.  Set a timer for 60 seconds and breathe.  For real.  Try it.  Step by step, I am retraining myself to appreciate simple moments.  Part of having an abundant life is recognizing the beauty in your everyday moments.  What a shame it would be to run this race of life and not take time to be fully present in our todays.  The small acts of obedience lead to peace like a river.  #wepreach

Isn’t it funny how quickly we lose certain skill sets?  If I go without walking for a week, the first walk after my break makes my heart pound just a little bit faster.  My body feels the burn and regrets that we ever slacked off.  I always vow to remain consistent so that I do not have to feel like I’m starting all over again. During one summer break, I remembered that I used to be a champion hula hooper.  Don’t get me wrong.  I wasn’t entered in competitions.  I didn’t stand in front of large crowds and show off my skills.  But I was BAD!  Do you hear me? I was so cold with it that I could make the hula hoop rotate from my neck down to my ankles.  And then wind it back up to my little waist.  Man, I was easily entertained as a kid.  Give me that hula hoop and some open space, and it was on. Beyonce had a music video many years ago that showcased her hula hoop skills.  Seeing that video brought back my love for the toy.  I was in my twenties at this point.  So, ya’ll already know what I did after I saw that video.  I went and purchased a hula hoop.  Surely, it was like riding a bike.  I had rhythm as a kid.  This was going to be a piece of cake and a fun way to burn some calories. I gathered my little cousins in my mom’s driveway.  It was a hot summer day.  I was going to show them a fun new activity.  Our summer shenanigans were being initiated.  Well, the fun did start.  The fun of seeing me fumble, that is.  I COULD NOT MAKE A FULL ROTATION!  I would push that hula hoop and my hips, and the hula hoop would fall straight to the ground.  I tried several techniques when the tried and true methods of yesteryear weren’t doing the trick.  My little cousin had more success, but it wasn’t looking so hot for her either.  An epic fail. The hula hoop found a home in the back of my closet in my mom’s house. When I finally got around to moving more of my clothes out of her house this spring, there sat my long lost friend. I stuck it in the closet of my house and let it rest. Sweet Baby found it lying there and decided to give it a whirl. Whirl is the best word that I can use. She shook and twisted and turned. Round and round. Round and round. Over time, she tasted small moments of victory and celebrated by shouting at the top of her lungs. It was a thrill for her. I took it as a sign that I need to reinstitute my attempts.  I have plenty of time.  And space.  I know ya’ll are interested.  I’ll let you know how it goes.  My life  can’t be all full of doom and gloom.  And although life has changed around here, a girl still has to have goals.  Make a sweet memory today.  Find a reason to smile.  And also pray that I can do this gracefully.  Maybe Bible Study Brother will let me be in his next music video then.  The verdict is still out on that one.   #wepreach

Well, it finally happened.  I am new to the cat-loving community.  And by new, I mean that I love one cat exclusively, Fitz.  Since I did not grow up with cats or have anyone very close to me that had a cat for a pet, there are many things about cats that I do not know.  Many of my thoughts about cats have been formed from their portrayal in media.  I take my cues from movies and television.  So, when it finally happened, I was a little unprepared. Have I built up the suspense enough?  Are you curious to know what happened?  I was sitting at my computer preparing to write a blog when I heard the strangest noise.  Fitz often likes to do his own thing.  While he will cuddle with me, he spends most of his waking hours in the spare bedroom or parked in the front window.  The weird sound caused me to pinpoint his location.  There he was.  Standing in front of the television.  And he appeared to be in distress. As I looked at him, I knew that I had heard that sound before.  It was the sound of impending animal throw up.  And throw up, he did.  I pulled on my gloves and took a close look to investigate.  My dog had to be put down after eating a foreign object.  A very traumatic experience.  I needed to know if I was going down that road again.  You know what he ate?  Hair!  It was a hairball!  Cats have hairballs ya’ll! Cats are very neat creatures.  Grooming is high on their priority list.  My Fitz is no exception to the rule.  He constantly licks and cleans himself.  He can also be found licking my feet on occasion.  I suppose they do not meet his cleanliness standards.  Over time, that excess hair that he removed built up in his stomach.  His body had to get rid of it to be able to function correctly.  Hence, the hacking up of the hairball. Such a gross sight, but so necessary for his health.  In my attempt to rid myself of negative relationships, I believe that I actually took the negative feelings in and let them ferment and sit in my stomach.  Over time, there was a build-up.  An unhealthy mass preventing me from moving waste through my system.  Eventually all those negative feelings come barreling out.  Often, some unfortunate soul is the witness to my wretching.  Yes, it is ugly, but I feel so much better when it is all out. The good news is that there is a way to prevent hairballs in cats and humans.  Cats just need a good brushing to aid them in getting rid of the excess hair.  Humans have many options to get rid of all the negative emotions.  We can get brushed when sharing our thoughts with trusted friends.  We can even get a good grooming by going to a therapist to hash out our relationship woes.  We do NOT have to do it alone. Man, seeing Fitz’s struggle convicted me.  I need to brush him and myself.  #wepreach 

My grandmother is a masterful storyteller.  When I was a kid, I spent my summers with her in St. Louis.  Our days were filled with trips to the library to pick out books and sometimes videos.  We would hang out at the pool and try to improve our swimming.  We would go to the park so that we could get some fresh air.  We would visit the zoo.  We explored the city.  All the nooks and crannies.  The days were epic.  But nighttime held a special magic that day could not ever provide.  Nighttime was storytime. Bible Study Brother and I would get all cuddled up in the bed with grandma.  Then story time would begin.  Every night was a new adventure.  A continuous journey.  We heard tales of princes and princesses.  Dragons.  Or sometimes just regular girls and boys ready to take on the world.  We could throw out any suggestions to add to the story.  Grandma would not stumble over her words.  She would just continue to paint the most vivid images.  She took us on fantastic adventures in our minds.  Even though she was just using her words, we could see the sights, feel the atmosphere, smell the spices.  We were hooked. As an adult, I have found that I have lost much of my sense of wonder.  I get easily dissuaded by the way that life unfolds around me.  What happened to the girl who got swept into the drama of an amazing adventure that was spoken to me?  When did I lose the ability to see, feel, and smell things that were not in my presence?  But as quickly as I get discouraged by my current stage in life, I am encouraged.  The fact that I could believe in mythical worlds lets me know that I have the ability to believe in the very real promises of God.  Although my grandma is a superb storyteller, I am the child of the greatest Author ever known.  God has written a beautiful beginning, middle, and end to my life.  He has showered me with promises.  He reminds me that I am His treasured possession.  I need to get in touch and in tune with believing what He says about me.  I know it’s possible to experience the greatest story ever told.  #wepreach

Well, it’s another day’s journey, and I am glad about it.  Last week kicked off the Rise Up campaign at St. Luke Missionary Baptist Church.  We are studying the book of Nehemiah and taking nuggets of wisdom from his life.  While not a prophet or priest, Nehemiah was a worker in the kingdom of God.  The sermon from Sunday provided more practical ways that I can apply the word of God in my life.  Nehemiah 2:1-5 opens by telling us that it is the month of Nisan.  This means that four months have passed since Nehemiah has prayed his prayer in chapter one.  Four months of fasting.  Four months of praying.  Four months of believing God.  While nothing seems to have changed.  The city still lies in ruins.  Four months of waiting. Although waiting can be frustrating, Nehemiah provides a good example of the proper attitude to have during a waiting season.  He does not show up to work every day with a frown on his face.  Actually, having a poor disposition at his job could literally cost him his life.  He is the cupbearer to the king.  His job is to taste all the king’s food and drink before the king does.  He does this to protect the king from poison that may have been placed into his food or drink.  A poor disposition or sour attitude could make the king distrustful.  The king took notice when Nehemiah’s normal countenance turned sad.  He knew that Nehemiah had to be experiencing a sorrow of heart. Waiting on the Lord is not for the faint of heart.  I know from experience that His timing is not my own.  Often, I do not wait with a good attitude.  Unlike Nehemiah, my struggle can be seen on my face.  It can be seen in the way that I interact with others.  It can be heard in my tone of voice.  While Nehemiah is waiting on God to move, he is not found sulking in the house or pouting.  He is at work.  He is carrying out the duties that have been assigned to him. Nehemiah is open with the king and shares that he is distressed because Jerusalem is in ruins.  The king asks Nehemiah what he would like.  Pastor pinpointed a key practical practice that is worthy of our attention.  Before he answers the king, Nehemiah shoots off a prayer to God.  Now, we know that Nehemiah has been in prayer and fasting for four months.  In my mind, this is the time to run through the open door.  However, Nehemiah has enough wisdom to consult God for confirmation before strolling through.  Because he has invested time in a real prayer life with God, he does not have to roll on the floor and rip his tunic.  He is able to say a short prayer and move in the right direction.  His personal relationship with God provides him assurance at a moment that could have been disastrous.  Note to self:  Have a consistent, persistent, personal prayer life.  Nehemiah did not squander his time of waiting.  He used that time to properly position himself.  When the king asked, Nehemiah had a plan that he was able to share without hesitation.  While we are waiting, we should be planning.  We have to be prepared when God grants our requests.  Waiting is not the time to twiddle our thumbs.  It an opportunity to be ready, willing, and able to participate in all that God is doing. Patience, prayer, and planning go a long way in leading fulfilling Christian lives.  Nehemiah is a great example for us today.  Sunday’s sermon reminded me that I have a responsibility to rise up and make something happen.  #wepreach Questions to Ponder: What attitude do you have when you are waiting for God to answer a prayer request? What does your prayer life look like? Do you have dedicated times of prayer? Do you pray small prayers throughout the day? What is the longest amount of time that you have waited for God’s promises to come to pass? What is the shortest amount of time that you have waited for God’s promises to come to pass?

Unlike many people, I did not get my ears pierced as a baby.  I suppose Bible Study Mama had more pressing issues to think about.  You may know by now, that even as a child, I had extraordinarily strong opinions.  Four or five-year-old me wanted pierced ears.  I launched a fierce campaign with Bible Study Mama.  She was persuaded by my impassioned plea.  She called the rest of the village to see if they agreed with my idea.  They complied.  We were off to handle business. I wish I could tell you why I wanted my ears pierced so badly.  I just know that it was extremely important to me.  I chose the perfect studs to go in my tiny little ears.  The lady fired off that gun, and just like that, I had crossed over into pierced ear territory.  Mind you, I had no clue that it would be a painful process.  People say that I have a low pain tolerance now, but they have no idea.  Four or five year old me REALLY was not about that life. Bless my aunt.  She had no clue what she was in for.  When it was time to clean my ears and rotate those earrings…I was not having it!  I remember many days of tears and refusal.  Earrings looked cute, but the healing and hurting were not worth it to me.  And probably not to her either.  Put in new earrings????  Was she crazy????  NOPE!  Not happening.  She decided it was not worth the fight.  My holes closed up, and we went on with life. When I was around eleven, the pierced ear bug bit again.  I was a big girl.  At least that is what I told Bible Study Mama.  Four/five-year old Sareta just did not know what she was getting into.  I was now mature and able to handle the pain.  The new earrings went in without a hitch.  I cleaned and took care of the piercings on my own.  I had arrived. My love for earrings reached a fever pitch when I officially became a teenager.  I started a new campaign.  Yes, my pierced ears were nice, but a second set of holes would be even better.  After much debate and many fervent pleas, Bible Study Mama relented.  My second set of holes went in.  I was DELIGHTED.  I have to laugh at myself when I reflect on my piercing journey.  I wanted them so bad, but clearly little me was not ready for the pain and minimal upkeep required.  I bit off more than I could chew.  My choice did not only affect me.  It affected those around me.  I was irritable when they were only trying to help me achieve the goal that I had personally set out for myself.  Child, I needed that reminder. Eventually, I was ready and mature enough to handle what I desired.  So much so that I was able to double down.  That makes me think of my desire for marriage.  God knows what we can handle.  He knows our inner thoughts.  I can desire marriage all day, but if I am not ready to maintain a marriage, I will try to get out of it.  Just like I got out of my first earrings.  I am learning and growing.  I am receptive to what He has for me.  Even if it stings.  I can handle it.  #wepreach

YA’LL!!!!!!  I AM SO BESIDE MYSELF!  For those that are not aware, I accepted a challenge for Outrageous October.  Before the month is finished, I need to have walked 60 miles.  As of October 7, 2020, I have walked 30 of those miles already.  Now you may be thinking that I am pumped because I am halfway to the goal seven days into this month.  While I am grateful to halfway there, it is not the reason that I am beside myself. See, before the month started, I had a pull and a tug on my heart to walk a 5k for seven days straight.  I made a list of 37 things that I wanted to do while I am 37.  Since the walking came to mind, I figured that it must have been something I put on my list.  Did I go back and look at my list?  Nope.  I just knew that it was on there. For seven days, Bible Study Mama and I toiled and labored.  We walked and sweated.  Our thighs, calves, and feet tried to talk us out of our mission.  Instead of walking a little over three miles every day, I thought that four miles would provide us with the right level of challenge.  On Sunday, my curiosity took over during our walk.  I wanted to see what was just around the corner.  We found a beautiful pond filled with lily pads.  A wonderful treat that added an extra mile to that day’s exercise. When days six and seven came, we were both over it.  But we were so close, that we decided not to quit.  We trudged through our workouts.  We did not just survive.  We conquered.  We exceeded our original goal.  With such a great accomplishment behind me, you may wonder why I am beside myself. Remember how I told you that this goal was on my list?  Well,  IT’S NOT ON MY LIST!!!!  I get such satisfaction when I can check an item off my list.  How did I get this so wrong???  I know that I had it on a list somewhere.  Finally, I found the goal.  I had written it for my 35 for 35 list.  Two years ago, my younger self thought it would be an appropriate goal.  Older me got the satisfaction of checking it off. Clearly, life did not go the way I planned two years ago, but there is always room for growth and new experiences.  Do not ask me to do another seven days though.  What?!?!  I’m just being honest.  #wepreach

I will RISE UP and pray for ways to be an ACTIVE participant in building the Kingdom of God! Week 1- Rise Up Declaration If you read the sermon recap on Monday, you are aware that my church has embarked on a Rise Up campaign. The campaign is an opportunity for us all to get involved in the work of the church. When I say church, I am not talking about a building or even a particular congregation. I am speaking of the universal church of Christ. I am all about action points and tangible steps that I can take to improve my life and the lives of others. I was thrilled when I saw a weekly declaration posted on my church’s Facebook page. Not only are we being commissioned to rise up, but we have clear actions that will steer us in the right direction. On this week’s agenda is praying for ways to be an active participant in building the kingdom of God. Hearing the sermon gets me charged up on Sundays. By the end of the sermon, I just know I can run on a little further. I know that I can make it one more day. But I really need to move beyond the spiritual high and hunker down and do the work. So prayer it is. Before I get out of my bed in the morning, I am purposeful to ask God to guide me. I want to be exactly where He would have me to be. Consider joining in this challenge with me. Let this be your declaration this week. #wepreach

What tickles your funny bone?  What causes you to crack a smile?  What makes you laugh until tears run down your face?  Or are you one of those folks that have never had that experience?  I really hope that you have experienced a good old laugh-till-you-cry. When I am tired, it does not take much to make me laugh from my gut.  If you talk to me after 10 p.m., I would probably have you thinking that you were the next great comedian.  The simplest joke or sideways comment will set me off.  Shoot, sometimes I have to tell myself to calm down.  Just last night, I saw a meme that had me gasping for air.  I knew I was over tired when I could not pull it together.  This year has made me more grateful than ever when I have moments of joy and elation. Besides being tired, spending time with my kids in therapy has been known to put a smile on my face.  Kids say the darndest things.  They do the darndest things.  Most of the time, they are not trying to be funny.  They are just being honest or asking questions about things that concern them or even just sharing tales of their home life.  Listen parents, your kids tell all your business.  ALL OF IT!  I may have to hide my giggles at the time, but trust me, I laugh.  I am also a fan of a great story-teller.  I broke bread with my cousins for the first time after a long time of isolation.  My cousin proceeded to tell a story about his experiences growing up in the country, and I LOST IT.  I swear I had never heard a funnier story.  Maybe I missed people more than I thought.  Maybe he is funnier than I give him credit for.  Either way, I laughed until I cried.  And would start laughing again anytime I thought about it that day. Laughter is good for the soul.  I pray that something happens today that puts a smile on your face.  If you have never belly laughed before, I hope that you get to experience it.  Bible Study Mama has a loud and contagious laugh.  And if you really hit her funny bone with something, she will turn red and cry while laughing uncontrollably.  There is one joke that gets her EVERY time.  It is a joy to watch.  Ya’ll, it is so easy to get caught up in the gloom and despair that is going on around us.  Take a deep breath.  Pull from your happy place.  Have an awesome day today!  #wepreach

A fresh wind.  An unexpected wind.  I spent a good 30 minutes on Sunday afternoon being a buffer for the wind.  Bible Study Cousin had constructed balloon towers for decorations for our life group.  The balloons were attached to anchors to help them stand upright.  But we had not accounted for the wind.  The brisk fall air moved throughout the event.  Some balloons could not take the push.  As the towers rocked back and forth, balloons made contact with the asphalt and popped.  One balloon unraveled from the string and rolled across the parking lot.  While I generally enjoy a great breeze, I did not enjoy it in that moment.  It was not part of my plan and made life a little more complicated. Not even an hour later, I was once again outside.  Walking, walking, walking to meet my goal for my Outrageous October.  Listen, I am a big girl.  All the walking was creating quite a sweat.  And there it was again.  That fresh wind.  That cool breeze.  Not as unexpected based on my previous experience but definitely appreciated this time. As the breeze pushed me towards the end of my walk, I felt a pull and tug on my spirit.  In that moment, I thought about my relationship with the Lord.  He often sends a fresh wind in my life that disrupts my carefully constructed plans.  Ya’ll know I am goal oriented.  I make my “towers” and the Lord breezes on by with plans of His own.  Things that I have not accounted for.  He reminds me that my life is not my own.  As I grow and mature in my relationship with Christ, I have come to appreciate the breezes that He sends my way.  I do not need to look at them as obstacles.  I need to lean into the breeze and be refreshed.  Here lately, I have been very receptive to the voice of God.  I am looking forward to His fresh wind.  #wepreach

It has been a month of Sundays since I stepped foot into the sanctuary of St. Luke Missionary Baptist Church. (That’s just a really country way to say that it has been a loonng time!)  Actually, it has been more like seven months.  Sunday was the kickoff rally for our life groups, so I moseyed on out of the house to participate in in-person worship as well.  By now you know that every sermon is for me, and Sunday’s sermon was no exception.  We started our journey into the book of Nehemiah. Nehemiah 1:1-11 records Nehemiah’s reaction to distressing news.  He asks about the Jews who have survived captivity.  He wants to hear how they are faring in Jerusalem.  The report is not favorable.  Instead of living lives of hope and peace, they are walking among the ruins of the walls of Jerusalem.  Back in those days, city walls were essential to the health and vitality of a city.  Strong walls were a visible indication of a strong city that was protected on every side.  And poor Jerusalem seemed to have no defense. What a horrible picture.  God’s holy people were living lives that are far beneath the standards that God had set for them.  Unfortunately, this trend did not just exist in the Old Testament.  The same thing can be said of the church today.  I can get complacent and settle for good enough and miss out on what God has promised me.  He did not die for “good enough.”  He died so that I could have life and life more abundantly.  For many people that phrase stirs up images of material things.  A better car.  A bigger house.  A new bag.  For me, it stirs up images of more peace, more joy, and a sense of purpose. Nehemiah did not take the news lying down.  The report caused him to rise up.  Now, Nehemiah was not a prophet or priest.  He did not have to be.  He saw a need for change and an opportunity to become involved in God’s work.  He began to fast and pray.  He had open dialogue with God, because He knew that God was the one that could transform the situation.  Prayer changes things, and Nehemiah activated the change agent. The world is in such disarray right now.  We are the remnant that is walking around while the holy city lies in ruins.  What are we going to do?  Does the sight of the destruction move us to rise up, or do we kick the debris around as we go about our days?  We do not have to be priests or prophets to do the work that God has commissioned us to do.  The time has come for us to rise up.  We need to equip and empower the lost AND the saved…no man left behind in the ruins.  #wepreach #riseup

Can I share something with ya’ll?  I mean, even if you just said no, I cannot hear you.  I have played it safe most of my life.  I am not big on pushing myself outside of my comfort zone.  Pushing publish on my first blog post was THE MOST uncomfortable feeling ever.  When I survived the first day after posting, I was relieved.  I had made it through that. Being pushed makes me grumpy.  I get aggravated because I feel out of control and helpless.  I feel vulnerable, and I do not like that feeling.  If I am vulnerable that means that I have exposed the soft parts of myself.  If I am vulnerable that means that I am risking hurt.  Yuck.  I exist in a world where I try to protect myself from hurt at all costs. In my attempt to protect myself, I have constructed some massive walls.  Now listen, boundaries are healthy.  They exist to protect us from damage.  But I have walls.  Without a gate that I can open and close.  Nope.  To get all the way in, you have to be willing to climb.  When you get to the top of that wall, there are spikes.  Once you squeeze through those, you have to scale back down to safety.  You will find me on the ground with open arms.  You have proved yourself worthy of deep connection and relationship. But the past year has found me shifting.  The good Lord has been doing some reconstructing on the walls that I carefully erected in my life.  He has taken a sledgehammer and knocked holes in my precious walls.   Those holes have shone light on issues deep inside of me that needed to be exposed.  Writing has let people peer through those holes into long protected areas.  But it has also given me the opportunity to peer out to see the people that I would have previously denied access. He is continually pushing me beyond what feels safe.  He is continually asking me to go beyond.  To do the things that terrify me.  He didn’t patch up the holes in the walls to allow me to go back to my preferred level of vulnerability.  He installed a door in the place of the holes.  Now I can peer out of the window and decide if I want to let someone in.  I can yell, “Who is it?” and wait for the response safely on my side of the door.  I guess instead of climbing folks can yell until they are hoarse.  But that’s improvement. Although I operate in my lane of safety, I am finding that it is not actually that safe.  It is hurting me.  It is holding me back from being all that God called me to be.  My prayer is that I am able to withstand the push and pull from God.  I want to be able to do what He says even when I am petrified.  The reality is that no matter how crazy it may feel the safest place for me to be is in the will of God.  #wepreach

Happy Friday!  After an Audacious August where I challenged myself to walk 50 miles, I had a Sedentary September.  I mean, I continued to work out four days a week at first.  Then as the month went on, and I experienced increasing responsibilities, I let the four days slide to three the next week.  By the end of the month, I was doing good to get two days of exercise in a week. Bible Study Cousin swears I lead her down the road of destruction when I decided to be more lenient with myself in September.  She loves a challenge and living up to a challenge.  She created Outrageous October.  What is Outrageous October?  Glad you asked.  It is a slap in the face to the lackadaisical month that I just had.  Instead of getting 50 miles of exercise in, I need to get 60 miles in. For those that regularly engage in vigorous exercise, 60 miles is nothing.  It equates to just 2 miles of exercise everyday for the month.  Which is fine if you want to work out every day.  I don’t.  Just being honest.  Nevertheless, I am committed to pushing myself beyond what feels comfortable.  My couch…my couch is what feels comfortable.  Ugggh. I am hoping that I can apply this same focus and determination to other areas of my life.  Right now, I feel stuck and unmotivated.  I am tired.  I need change.  Pushing beyond what feels comfortable and good will probably be a great thing for me.  Anyone else want to join in on the journey?  Maybe you needed a push too.  Well, here it is.  It may not be 60 for you.  Maybe it is 100.  Whatever it is…take the leap.  Keep me in your prayers that this Outrageous October has an outrageously good outcome.  #wepreach

I was chatting with Bible Study Cousin on the phone on Sunday when there was a knock on my door.  Now, I was not expecting company.  And although I wave at my neighbors on occasion, we are not in the habit of just popping over to each other’s house.  I could see that it was a man.  Maybe it was one of my cousins? Wrong.  I was visited by a candidate for Arkansas State Representative.  He was polite and loaded with materials for me to look through.  This was my first time having a candidate knock on my door.  I know I need to be informed about candidates running for local elections.  I wrote an entire blog about it.  With election day looming, his visit sparked my hunt for more information. And then Tuesday happened.  The Presidential “debate”.  I stared at the screen in amazement.  I wanted to pinch myself several times.  My mouth literally dropped open on a regular basis.  Never in my life could I have imagined the show that was taking place.  That is all that I can call it.  A show.  It was a disgrace. The chaos that our country is currently experiencing is saddening.  And infuriating.  2020 has been a year filled with trauma-inducing events, and it seems the punches have not ceased.  It is important that we are vigilant and tuned in to what is happening on the local level.  Our mayors, sheriffs, and board of directors of our cities matter.  I have started the process of weeding through the candidates and issues that are going to be on the ballot so that I can make an educated vote.  I urge everyone else to do the same.  #wepreach

Yesterday, I shared with you all that the kids that I work with are rough with toys.  Heavy-handed, if you will.  Sometimes, they do not know their own strength, and other times they are very aware of the power that they possess.  Take for instance an incident that happened just this week. Therapy looks a lot like play for the children that I work with.  Mainly because children learn so much from play.  I am intentional about not towering over children.  I lower myself so that they feel comfortable with me.  It provides an opportunity for eye contact and makes structured activities seems less intimidating.  After my time on the floor or in my lowered seat, I pull out the computer at the end of the session.  While therapy is important, so is documentation of goal progress.  I give kids time to play freely without my interference.  While they play, I finish writing my note for the session. I watched one friend in the mirror as I typed his note.  He was blissfully unaware that I was tuned into his play time.  He picked up a bunny that a friend’s son made for me.  He pulled and tugged on the bunny’s arm with all his might.  And the craziest thing happened.  The bunny’s arm snapped right off.  The look of horror on his face was priceless.  What did he expect to happen???  He glanced in my direction and quickly threw the bunny in a basket to hide the evidence. Although I saw the entire incident, I wanted to know if my little five-year-old friend would tell the truth.  With a calm and friendly voice, I asked him to collect the bunny from the basket and come over to me.  He slowly collected the bunny and the separated arm and nervously approached my desk.  I started with an open-ended question. “What happened to the bunny?” ***Silence*** “Did you tear his arm off?” ***Head nod*** “Why?” ***Silence*** “I saw you when it happened.  I was hoping you could tell me what made you do it.  I do not like it when you hurt my toys.  Be gentle with my things. Make good choices.” I was not loud or screaming.  I was disappointed, and I was clear about my expectations.  No time out because we only had about a minute before I took him back to class.  Even with no time out or screaming, the strangest thing happened.  He started to cry.  Which really threw me for a loop.  Until I thought about it. The times that I have cried the most and felt the most sorrow are the times that I know that I went out of the way to disobey God.  The times that I checked to see if He was still paying attention to me before I stepped out.  Of course, He is always there, but He does not always immediately correct me.  He lets me do what I am doing.  Then He will call me in for a check-up.  He makes me account for my actions.  He reminds me of His expectations. Well, as usual, I see myself reflected in the lives of the little friends that I am blessed to work with.  I am constantly challenging them to excel. The challenge for me will be rising to meet the expectations of my God.  #wepreach

Kids.  Working with the bright young minds of tomorrow can be a challenge.  For me and for them.  Sometimes, I think that they do not know their own strength.  Just ask my toys, and they will side with me. I used an actual picture of my toys to go along with this blog.  Now the toys were staged for dramatic effect.  Y’all know I’m goofy.  But the detached leg on the daddy doll is the real deal.  One of the kids did not like the way the dad’s leg was positioned while they were playing.  Instead of asking for help to get the dad in the right position, they literally took matters in their own hands.  Poor daddy doll.  He never stood a chance. The mom doll in the picture was put in the trash long ago.  For some reason, kid after kid twisted and turned her neck during play.  Apparently, the mama could never look in the right direction because they snapped her head off.  Not once, but multiple times.  Each time, I would super glue her head back onto her neck and let the kids know that she was in the ICU.  She would be placed on a shelf high above their reach.  They could see but were not allowed to touch her until her head was fully dry.  Eventually, I ran out of neck to reattach her head to and mama dear had a date with the trash can.  She never stood a chance. Before I take too hard of a stance on my kiddos, I have to take a look at myself and the way that I handle others around me.  I am hard on myself, but I am also hard on others.  Instead of asking God to help me deal with people with conflicting viewpoints, I will take matters into my own hands.  I try to bend them to my will.  Inevitably, the struggle causes important parts of the person to break.  My haste to do things on my own has the potential to leave someone wounded.  Broken and needing time to recover.  If I do that too many times, they may reach the point of no return.  They never stood a chance against my dogmatic attitude. I know that I am not the only one that has those moments.  However, I am shifting my approach to relationships with people.  I am learning to lean on the Lord and not my own understanding.  I am intentional with being a better listener and having an open mind.  It has made a world of difference.  When Jesus interacted with people, He did not browbeat them.  He operated in a spirit of love.  I need more of that.  The world does too, or Christianity will never stand a chance.  #wepreacy

Sunday was all about celebrating “The Strength of a Woman” during our annual women’s day.  And oh, what a time we had.  Service culminated with a power message of resilience.  We unpacked what it means to be relentless in our pursuit of God. The message was taken from Matthew 15:21-28.  A woman of Canaan comes crying out to Jesus.  Her daughter is demon-possessed.  Actually, not just demon possessed.  Severely demon possessed.  There are levels to the power that Satan holds over lives, and her daughter suffers from an extreme case.  The woman knows that there is nothing in her power that can change the situation.  She wisely cries out to Jesus. After her impassioned plea, I would expect Jesus to be moved and speak a word over the daughter’s life that makes the enemy flee.  His reaction is quite opposite.  He is silent.  Yeah.  You read that right.  Silent after this woman poured her heart out.  I might be alone in this, but it can be an isolating feeling when you have laid everything on the line and are met with silence.  However, the woman did not let the silence of Jesus stop her or deter her.  She was relentless. She continued to cry out.  So much so that the disciples begged Jesus to send her away.  They could not understand why she did not take no for answer.  Jesus lets her know that He came to save the lost children of Israel.  Even that did not deter her.  She began to worship Jesus and again cried out for help.  She worshipped Him even though He had not healed her daughter.  She knew what Jesus could do.  She was relentless. Jesus had already made His mission statement to the woman.  He then drove the point home and told her that it would not be a good thing to take the bread that He brought for the children of Israel and feed it to little dogs.  Honey, at this point I would have been OFFENDED.  In my flesh and my feelings.  Like somebody would probably assume that one of those demons got off my daughter and jumped into me.  But not this woman.  Her response is full of faith and fire.  She tells Jesus that even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.  She was relentless. How I want to have this same resilience.  Even when Jesus was silent, she continued to seek His face.  She did not just assume that the answer was no.  And even when met with an answer that would likely turn others away, she had enough faith to praise Him.  She worshipped Him without abandon and plead her case.  Pride had no place.  She was desperate for relief and knew that He was the one that could right every wrong.  She had no place for offense.  She remained relentless.  Jesus commended her faith, and her daughter was healed that very hour. My prayer for us all is that we can approach the Lord with the same zeal and courage of our convictions.  That we do not allow the delay to turn us away from the healing and restoration that is available to us.  I have been talking to Jesus mightily.  I have many desires that are yet unfulfilled.  I needed this sermon.  I needed this reminder to be relentless in my pursuit of God’s best.  Let us be so relentless that the Lord says to us that our faith is great and that it will be as we desire.  #wepreach Think on these things: Do you currently have prayer requests that have been unanswered? How do you react when prayers are unanswered? Are you relentless in other areas of your life but negligent in talking to God? Why or why not? Do you currently have the faith to pursue the desires of your heart?

My friend asked me how my book writing is going.  I had to be blatantly honest with her and tell her that it is not.  Between daily blogs, work, and the 1,000 other things that I am juggling, writing my book has taken a distant back seat.  I opened it up the other day with the intention of continuing to write, and my attempt fell flat.  The book has a totally different rhythm than the blogs and pulls at a different part of me.  It requires me to be more vulnerable.  I closed out of the book and went on about my night. And then…I got a reminder of who I am.  Really who I have always been.  See, although I have my own home, I still have not completely moved out of Bible Study Mama’s house.  I was in my old room today looking for a remote.  I found 2 shirts that I thought had disappeared into thin air, some nail polish, and the book “The Three Mice.” If you have not read “The Three Mice,” you have definitely been missing out on life.  And your reading portfolio is clearly not expansive enough.  This buried treasure renewed my faith.  I wrote and illustrated “The Three Mice” in second grade.  My first literary masterpiece was then laminated and bound by my teacher.  I suppose my hoarding paid off.  I had forgotten that I kept this book until I was searching through my old room. The book only spans six pages, but it covers a LOT of material.  If you have been missing out on drama in your life, my second grade self brought all the heat.  Listen…I really want to talk to young me and ask some questions.  You can tell that I grew up watching All My Children with my great-grandmother.  But you can also see and hear me clearly in those six pages.  Thirty years have passed, and I am still me. I was so convicted by this book.  If little Sareta could write a book with the courage of her convictions, grown woman Sareta has little excuse.  I have to be 100% myself.  I must do what only I can do.  One of the things that is uniquely suited to me.  Writing has long been a release for me and an extension of who I am.  Instead of shying away from it, I have to press INTO it.  I have to embrace it.  I hope my story pulls on the parts of you that have been lying dormant.  I hope it propels you closer to your destiny, and you feel convicted to do what you were brought to this earth to do.  The world needs your gifts.  #wepreach

 Well, my phone gave up the ghost.  It went right on up to that electronics heaven in the sky.  When my new phone arrived, I said a special prayer that all my information from the old phone could be retrieved.  I did not even realize what special treasures that old phone held until the information was transferred. My phone has been my note keeper for years.  Before I started using the YouVersion Bible app, I would take sermon notes using the notes feature on my phone.  If I was in a meeting or workshop, I would add my notes in the notes feature.  Prayer requests…notes feature for that too.  Scrabble scores, party games, and revival notes were just a click away.  Once my new phone finished updating, all those precious forgotten notes were front and center. Seems that when I taught youth Sunday School with Bible Study Cousin, I kept the prayer requests on my phone.  Let me tell y’all, some of the prayer requests of these kids squeezed my heart.  They had so much compassion for other people.  I wonder if their prayers were answered. I also stumbled upon prayer requests from a variety of people in my life. I suppose at some point I thought it would be wise to write the request down as soon as someone asked me to pray about something.  It does my heart good to see that things that were prayer requests years ago have been answered.  They moved from possibilities to actualities. I needed the reminder that God hears my prayers.  The ones that I have prayed for years and the ones that I threw up just once and let float in the wind.  They go right up to Him, and He considers them all.  God is mindful of them, and He is mindful of me.  You want to talk gratitude?  That is me when I look at list after list and see how He has proved to be mighty and strong in my life.  I may have forgotten these things, but I am so glad that He did not.  Ya’ll keep praying even when it seems like it is not making a difference.  Keep trusting when the world is in disarray.  And do not be too dismayed if your phone decides to give up the ghost.  You may unlock buried treasure.  #wepreach

May your struggles keep you near the crossAnd may your troubles show that you need GodAnd may your battles end the way they shouldAnd may your bad days prove that God is goodAnd may your whole life prove that God is good “God is Good” by Jonathan McReynolds Tuesday was one of those days for me.  Although I love the rain, the grey skies set the tone for the day.  I had one road bump after another.  Have you had days like that?  I wanted to be at home snuggled under a quilt watching the rain instead of going in and out.  As soon as I made it home from a full day at work, I had to go right back out. COVID-19 restrictions made my unwanted errand even more unpleasant.  The store would not let me inside until they had an associate available to help me.  I stood in the much cooler evening hours and waited my turn.  As I stood outside, Jonathan McReynolds song “God is Good” came to my mind. If you haven’t ever heard it, go give it a listen. It is about three minutes long. I had not listened to it in a while or even thought about it.  As I hummed to myself, the lyrics permeated deep down on the inside of me. Good music will do that to you.  I suppose it is a good thing that I have been filling up on good old gospel music.  I have other music that I listen to that would not have helped my mindset.  LOL!  I stood out there and thought of how blessed I am.  I found myself getting centered on a cloudy and dreary day. Now, I have absolutely had much worse days than my day on Tuesday, but the words reminded me that even on ho-hum days God is good.  The associate that assisted me was beyond supportive and offered me help that I was not even aware I needed.  A long day.  A tiring day.  But I came out better in the end.  No matter what the day holds remember that God is good.  #wepreach

I am somewhat of a hoarder.  I come by it honestly though.  My grandma holds on to things too.  You never know when the thing that was in that box for all those years may come in handy.  Seriously.  I fight against that hoarding instinct at times.  Not often but sometimes.  I mean, you can get in my house and walk around without fear of towering piles of my precious collectibles falling on your head.  But behind these closets and closed doors…well, let’s just leave those things where they are.  I have a closet full of boxes that I did not unpack after my home renovation two years ago.  I have no clue what they contain, but I am not in a hurry to go through them and get rid of them. I did do some in depth decluttering while I was on my unexpected three-month vacation that was provided by COVID-19.  I had plans to declutter my entire house, but binge-watching shows held more appeal many days.  While going cleaning out my bathroom cabinets, I stumbled across a face mask that I purchased some years ago.  I had nothing but time.  I figured I would let the face mask sit while watched one of the shows. Did I mention that I have sensitive skin?  I try to act like I don’t quite often, and it always bites me in the rear.  Although I knew this about myself, I was throwing caution to the wind.  The mask smelled fine.  It was not runny or weird colored.  Surely, it would refresh and rejuvenate my skin.  The mask began to harden.  After the episode of the show was finished, I washed the mask off my face.  My skin was tight.  But not in a good way.  It felt tight in a “you are going to pay for this” kind of way.  I slapped some oil on my face and prayed to sweet baby Jesus that my gut feeling was wrong. Child, I woke up so ugly in the face the next morning.  My skin was UPSET with me.  I looked like I had gotten into a battle with an eczema monster, and the eczema monster won.  Of course, Bible Study Mama noticed the next time that she saw me.  By this point, my skin was starting to level out.  She made sure that I knew just how crazy my skin appeared.  Then she fussed about me knowing that my skin is sensitive.  I suppose a mother’s fussing is never done.  I knew better, but I decided to give the mask a shot.  My mistake was written all over my face.  All because I was holding on to something that was long past its useful stage. You know I have done that with people, relationships, and situationships.  I hold on, because I think that, given enough time, the situation will change.  Even though the connection has been holding on by a thread for years.  Even though I can no longer recall what bonded us together in the first place.  I leave them in the box in the closet with plans to sort it out one day.  Child, then the day comes.  I decide to get back involved.  Despite the small still voice reminding me of how precious I am.  I soldier forward.  I dive in and come out damaged.  Not dead, but definitely worse for the wear, and it’s written all over my face.  All because I was holding on to something that was long past it’s useful stage. Let my life be a cautionary tale.  Stop holding on to issues, people, and material things that are not adding value to your life.  If you are not using it in a constructive way, let it go.  Or I’ll have to call Hoarders on you…and probably me too.  #wepreach

When I was in the fifth grade, I had my first taste of adult life.  We were learning how to be responsible members of the community.  A fake town was established.  We all had roles to play in this town.  As a functioning member of the community, we each had salaries.  Our money was used to purchase essentials.  However, we were not given paper money.  That would have been too simple.  We were given checkbooks.  The teacher showed us how to write a check as well as how to balance the checkbook. Writing a check was serious business for me.  I remember the example that she had on the board.  I glanced at it for reference each time that I was ready to write a check to one of my classmates.  I stayed on top of the balance in my bank account.  I knew that I had to work with what I had.  Overdraft was not an option. Eventually, I got my very own checkbook in real life.  The joy that washed over me when I saw my name printed on my cute checks makes me laugh now.  I would sit and write out my checks for my bills.  I made sure that my checkbook was balanced.  Baby, I was adulting for real.  As time passed and checks became more obsolete, I became less aware of what my bank account contained.  I would keep a running guesstimate in my head.  Which was fine.  Until I over drafted the account.  I guess my running guesstimate finally ran out. In the hustle and bustle of everyday life, I often forget to make sure that I am balanced.  I speak about living a whole life.  I earnestly desire that for myself.  But I do not do a good job of balancing the checkbook on my life.  I am guilty of committing to tasks that end up depleting me.  It seems fine.  It seems okay.  Until I have an overdraft.  I end up in the negative on my peace and my attitude.  Although checks are quickly becoming a relic of a bygone era, I encourage you to keep an accurate balance on your life.  That will not ever go out of style.  #wepreach

Bible Study Brother and I have a tradition of reading book series and discussing them as we read.  We have read the Percy Jackson series of books, the Divergent books, and the Hunger Game books just to name a few.  Since I am a faster reader, I read the book of the series first before I pass it on to him.  I do not like to have to wait to get to the ending.  I was the first to discover how Hunger Games ended because of this.  I was in shock.  I did not see it coming.  Bible Study Brother kept asking for hints and trying to understand why I was so beside myself.  He did not understand until he finished the story for himself. Sunday’s sermon centered on Mark 16:1-8.  In the verses, the women that walked with Jesus during His time on earth are on their way to the tomb where He was laid to rest after His crucifixion.  They have stocked up on spices and are headed to anoint the body of Jesus.  The only problem with their plan is that Jesus is not there.  He has risen as He said He would.  An angel tells them to spread the good news.  The women flee from the tomb trembling and afraid.  They do not say anything to anyone.  In older manuscripts of Mark, the story concludes there.  There are no verses 9-20.  The story is complete. Except…the story is not complete.  When we really study the first eight verses of this 16th chapter, we can see pieces of ourselves and our own struggles with our faith.  These women were in close proximity with our Lord and Savior and yet did not really understand who He was.  We see time and time again that Jesus declared who He was.  He said that He would be resurrected.  He proclaimed that He had all power.  And yet they spent money to buy spices for a dead Jesus.  They got up early in the morning to walk to a borrowed tomb.  They are not alone in this respect.  I am guilty of saying that I trust and believe in the power of God while living a life that shows I do not believe that He will take care of me.  I am guilty of saying the right thing and having the wrong heart.  I can be found saying I believe but help my unbelief. Let’s be honest.  As Pastor pointed out, a dead Jesus can be a lot more convenient for us for than a risen Savior.  A risen Savior compels us to do work.  A risen Savior calls us to action.  The women were afraid because in that moment they fully realize that Jesus was exactly who He said He was.  The women and the church universal now have a part to play in the greatest story ever told.  We are called to spread the news of the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  We are commissioned to spread the news of His love and saving power to all the world.  We are called to finish the story. Being an active participant in the story is not easy.  The women were right to be afraid.  This is not an assignment for the faint of heart.  But it is a joy.  Jesus trusts us with His story.  We add on to His story with our own walks and testimonies.  What a privilege.  I pray that we finish the story strong.  #wepreach Think about it… When is the last time that your actions did not line up with your faith? What made you behave that way? Do you live a life that glorifies God? Why or why not?

Life can be so complicated.  Or maybe I just make it that way sometimes.  Ya’ll I will think myself into a tizzy.  Go round and round with my thoughts until I am dizzy.  (That rhymed but I was not trying to do that…LOL…see what I mean?)  Bless my heart. It makes me think of being a kid.  It reminds me of my days on the playground.  Do ya’ll remember merry-go-rounds?  Not the fancy electronic kind that you ride during the fair or at an amusement park.  I am talking about the kind that you could use your feet to start the circular motion.  Or maybe you had that one friend that would hold on to the bars while pushing everyone in a circle.  Eventually they would jump on too when there was enough movement. I can remember running and holding on tightly to the bars to gain momentum if I had to play with the merry-go-round on my own.  After I leaped onto the platform, I would lay there looking up at the sky as the merry go round rotated.  I found peace, joy, and rest there after my hard work.  I was not dizzy.  I kept my eyes focused on the clouds and the clear blue sky.  All was well in my world. As an adult, I have felt burdened when pushing through situations.  At times, I feel like I am moving in circles.  Using all my muscle to power through and make the wheel turn.  Unfortunately, with all that pushing, I somehow forgot to make the leap.  To stop going around in circles and jump on the platform to enjoy the ride.  To lay and look towards God.  To find the peace, joy, and rest that comes after the push. There is a pattern in my writing lately about joy, rest, and trust in God.  This is what God wants for me.  He wants the same for you, too.  It is so easy for us to get caught up in the pushing and forget about promise.  I am praying that we spend more time dwelling in His peace.  #wepreach

I come from a poor family.  We did not have much.  But the Lord has been good to us.  (If you are real churchy, you just sang that song.  It goes hard, don’t it?!?)  Although those are song lyrics, they really are my testimony.  Now, I had no idea we were poor.  I had everything I wanted.  Ate well.  Had toys.  What we did not have was a dryer. As an adult, the thought of living in a home without a washer AND a dryer just does not appeal to me.  Lugging my laundry home while I was in college was a chore.  When it was finally time for me to spread my wings into a place of my own, having a washer and dry in each apartment was at the top of my list.  Funny how time shifts your perspective. As a kid, I looked forward to hanging our wet clothes on the clothesline.  Well, I was too short, but I was a great assistant.  I would hold the wooden clothespins and hand them to my great-grandmother as she moved down the clothesline.  Quite often, I would get slapped in the face by wet laundry if the wind began to stir.  I did not mind.  It was a chore that I looked forward to.  We let nature do its work and dry the clothes while we went on to a different household task. I still remember walking through the rows of wet laundry.  Playing peek-a-boo with myself and having the time of my life.  I was probably getting on my great-grandmother’s nerves now that I think about it.  For her, it was responsibility and for me it was a joy. Hmmm, maybe I need to shift my perspective on many aspects of my life.  I need to rediscover the joy in the simple things that I take for granted.  I need to adopt a more child-like approach to responsibilities that have been placed in my hands.  I rehearse negative thoughts when I could be thanking God for the opportunity.  Now do not misunderstand me.  I am not trying to have a clothesline, clothespins, and lots of laundry to hang in the year of our Lord 2020.  However, I am going to be thankful for the responsibilities that He has given me.  #wepreach

Faith over fear.  Easy to say.  Hard to really walk out.  We know how Jairus’s story ended, so we can applaud his faith.  We can tout him as an example of persevering despite the facts presented to him.  Wednesday night’s Refresh Bible study focused on the practical application of Sunday’s sermon.  You know…the walking out of the faith that we have. But before we get to the walking out of the faith we have, we need to have a real talk.  Sit down.  If you are a super saint, this may knock you off your feet.  We are in a pandemic.  You may be alone when you read this, so I don’t want you to hurt yourself if you do fall.  Ready for the talk to start?  Okay.  Here goes nothing.  We should allow ourselves to really feel our emotions.  I did not say that we should wallow in them.  I said that we should acknowledge that they are there. When my therapist told me that I was depressed, my immediate thought was “I’m saved.  If I am depressed, then that means that my relationship with God is not what I say it is.”  I could not acknowledge what was right in front of my face.  I struggled with overcoming the issue because I wanted to ignore the reality of my situation.  The entire time he was talking to me, I was formulating rebuttals.  I did not get to a healthy place until I acknowledged that there was work to be done. Emotions are natural.  They are part of the human experience.  We do a disservice to ourselves and other believers when we make them believe that emotions have no place in our lives.  Emotions can be a catalyst for positive movement.  For instance, the adrenaline surge that we get when we are in danger.  People have been known to lift cars off the body of their loved ones when they are placed in a deadly situation.  There is room for our emotions.  The true battle is feeling our feelings, and at the same time, not allowing our feelings to have dominion over our lives. Fear, anger, disappointment, and sorrow are not figments of our imaginations.  After we acknowledge our feelings, we must make the choice to follow God WHILE we are still feeling whatever we are feeling.  That is what Jairus did.  As believers, we choose to honor God with our lives in spite of the emotions.  They just come along for the ride.  That means praying to God when it feels like the bottom fell out.  That means studying the word when we’re disappointed.  That means treating people right when they deserve to be cursed out. Make no mistake about it.  Walking out our faith is not an easy thing.  Especially when we enter seasons where it seems that God is not moving.  When we have times that He does not seem to hear our prayers.  The fear seeps through the cracks of our faith.  In those times, it is helpful to have a community of people that can pray with and for you.  People that can speak great things over your life.  People that remind you that you are not alone. Yes, fear is a very real part of our lives.  But I know from personal experience that our God is bigger than fear will ever be.  #wepreach

Working with kids can be challenging.  Whenever I began working in a new building with a new set of kids, I would inevitably get sick.  Generally, one of them would give me pink eye as a “welcome to your new job” gift.  Then another one of them would graciously share some stomach bug that knocked me off my socks.  After a month had passed, I would be stronger and more resistant to the germs that frequented that particular facility. While typing progress notes, I realized that I have been at my new job for almost 3 months and have not gotten sick.  Not once.  While I have always been cautious about germs, COVID-19 has moved infectious diseases to the forefront of my mind.  There is no half-stepping or playing around.  My mask has reduced the likelihood that I will catch any of germs that kids are so willing to share. My newfound freedom from catching illness in new environments struck a chord with me.  It challenged me to think of the many times I put myself in toxic situations with no protection or method to wash off the ickiness that is sure to come.  Situations that I know have the potential to make me ill emotionally or spiritually, but I go in unprepared.  And what would that preparation look like practically?  Well, I need to remember to set clear boundaries.  And when it looks like someone is going to hack or sneeze their discontent with life into the air, I must pull out my disinfectant.  I have to verbally let them know that I do not like what they are saying.  I have to kill that thing in the air before it ever lands on me. Being around new germs can be challenging, but we do not have to leave ourselves open for infection.  Prayer and study of the word of God give us one of the best masks that we could ever have.  When we allow the Holy Spirit to filter our words, we keep others safe from the ickiness that is inside us.  Both parties are protected.  I am grateful that my physical body is in good health and free from illness.  My prayer is that I am mindful of my spiritual health as well.  I do not want to infect others with negativity and strife, and I surely do not want them to infect me.  #wepreach

Today marks one year that I have been blogging.  Biblestudygirl.com is one year old!!!  365 days.  12 months.  52 weeks. 8,760 hours.  And what a year it has been.  Ya’ll have buckled in and ridden through so many ups and downs with me.  I am truly grateful. As I was brainstorming ideas to celebrate this occasion, I decided to check and see which blog was read by the most people throughout the past year.  One stood head and shoulders above the rest.  Although “Empty Seat at the Table” was published on October 4, 2019, it remains the most read blog on the website.  In that blog, I grapple with forgiveness in the face of tragedy.  Apparently, many people were intrigued by the struggle.  Maybe because they identify with feelings of unforgiveness.  Maybe they were just pulled in by the picture that accompanied the blog.  No matter the reason, it has clearly resonated with a lot of folks. When I hit publish on that first blog post one year ago, I had so much fear.  My heart was beating so fast, but I decided that I needed to just do it.  I am so glad that I pushed past that fear and started on this journey.  Listen, it has not been easy.  There have been many days that I stared at the computer and it stared right back at me.  I have written blogs on an airplane and in the mountains.  I have typed entries into my phone while riding in a car.  I have typed blogs while hiding in my childhood bedroom to maintain the publishing schedule.  I have sacrificed and prioritized so that I could be a woman of my word.  So that I could do the work that I was called to do. Thank you for taking time out of your day to go the website to see what I am up to.  The past year has gone by in a flash.  God has used this blog to challenge me, change me, and grow me.  I am a better version of the woman that I was when this all began.  I hope and pray that pieces of my story, really pieces of my heart, pull others closer to Christ.  I pray that you can look past the ugly and complicated parts of me and see a God that loves all humanity. This year has not been all about me though. I have welcomed you into my family and pulled on others to share pieces of their stories too. I introduced you to Bible Study Mama, Bible Study Brother, and Bible Study Cousin. You got to hear from my BSG’s. You hear tales of the cutest cat on earth, Fitzgerald. You also were treated with a week of accounts of gratitude from my friends and family. I am beyond thrilled that they were willing to be open and vulnerable. What does the next year of biblestudygirl.com hold?  Your guess is as good as mine.  I will continue to be faithful to this assignment until the Lord says otherwise.  I will continue to offer pieces of my life as an example that a saved life is not a perfect life.  This year has taught me that I am certainly a girl with something to offer the world.  I hope that you feel inspired to share your faith walk with those that you encounter on a day-to-day basis. You never know how your story will impact someone’s life. #wepreach P.S. Enjoy the slideshow of just a few of the special moments that have been the subjects of blogs this year.

Fear is a part of our lives.  There is a healthy fear.  This is the fear that keeps us safe.  It keeps us aware of our surroundings and alert to present dangers.  There is also an unhealthy fear.  This is the fear that paralyzes us and keeps us from moving forward.  If you are in need of a push…just some encouragement to keep trusting and believing God…then Sunday’s sermon was for you.  Every week, God uses my pastor to speak directly to my heart’s issues.  This week we journeyed to Mark 5:21-43.  We are privy to an interaction of faith triumphing over fear. Jesus is by the sea and has a large crowd gathered around him.  Jairus, one of the rulers of the synagogue, comes to Jesus.  Not out of mere curiosity.  No, Jairus had a pressing need.  His daughter was deathly ill.  He wanted Jesus to lay his hands on his daughter and heal her.  He wanted his daughter to be made well.  Jesus agrees to go with Jairus, and the crowds follow them as they make their way to the home of Jairus. As they journey on, Jesus stops suddenly.  He felt power go out of Him.  He asks who touched His clothes.  With fear and trembling, the woman who had touched the hem of His garment comes before Him.  Jesus affirms her faith and lets her know that her faith has made her whole.  She has been healed.  While Jesus is ministering to the needs of the woman, someone comes to Jairus and lets him know that his daughter is dead. They tell Jairus that it will do no good to trouble Jesus any longer.  There is no hope. Jairus’s worst fear has become a reality.  Before Jairus can speak or move, Jesus tells Jairus to not be afraid and only believe.  In this moment, Jairus has a choice to make.  He can remain rooted in this spot, amid the crowd, or he can continue to journey on with Jesus.  Jesus acknowledges that fear is present, but He does not want Jairus to become fear.  He does not want Jairus to be paralyzed by the very real emotions that he is experiencing.  While it is easy to say that we would continue with Jesus, I have been guilty of letting my fear take over.  Thankfully, Jairus decides to remain committed to the journey. I will fast forward to the happy ending.  Jesus puts the naysayers out of the house and gets to work.  The atmosphere and attitudes are now right for a miracle.  He restores the life of Jairus’s daughter.  But what if Jairus had remained in his spot of disappointment?  What if he had not pushed past the fear?  We likely would have seen a very different ending.  Jairus trusted God through distance, delay, and discouragement.  His faith was bigger than his fear. No one is saying that fear does not exist in the lives of believers.  No one is saying that we do not have moments that stop us in our tracks.  But I am receiving the message loud and clear that I should not let anything become bigger than the God that I serve.  Faith should win every time.  #wepreach Name 3 things that trigger fear for you. How do you cope when fear takes over? In Mark 5:36 Jesus says “do not be afraid; only believe”, find two other scriptures that you can use to help you move through fearful moments.

The blessing of writing this blog is that I get to share my personal walk with the Lord.  The burden of writing this blog is that I get to share my personal walk with the Lord.  Two sides of the same coin.  I have to walk the line between being open and helpful versus open and hurtful.  I wrestle with knowing the difference. I debate how much information is too much information to share.  Sometimes, I publish an entry that I know did not go as deeply as it should have.  Because I do not exist in a vacuum, my journey with the Lord involves other people.  I want to tell my story while respecting other’s privacy and that ain’t easy.  (I meant to say “ain’t” too Bible Study Mama…she’s my editor ya’ll…LOL) This past week was the shortest, longest week ever.  I found myself on my knees praying for clarity.  I found myself on my knees asking for guidance.  I found myself on my knees asking for God’s favor on my life.  And then I found myself in a precarious situation.  God challenged me.  Was I going to live life my way or was I going to trust Him and follow His guidance? I wish that I could say that my first thought was “let me follow the Lord.”  That would be dishonest.  My first thought was that God did not seem to be moving.  Clearly, I needed to take the matter into my own hands.  Now listen, I realize that God is God all by Himself.  But He moves in His own time and sometimes our watches are not synced up.  I grabbed the issue and took hold of it and as my fingers got a solid grip around the issue, I realized that I was in the wrong posture.  I realized I was in the wrong position.  God could not give me what He wanted me to have when my hands were closed.  I reversed course and let it go.  Let me be clear.  It was not an easy release.  I did not get the warm and fuzzies when I let go and I let God.  But even when it did not feel good, I had to say to myself out loud that I knew that it was for my good.  I called other people to hold me accountable.  I said out loud what my concerns and fears were.  I admitted that I was sad…disappointed…scared.  I did not sugar coat it.  But I also was intentional about reading my Bible and speaking God’s promises for my life out loud.  I reminded myself that God loves me and is concerned about every issue that concerns me. As my week drew to a close, God met me at a dining room table.  During a regular conversation, He used a person to show me that He hears my prayers.  His ear is tuned to my needs.  Not just spiritually.  Emotionally.  Financially.  Physically.  He not only hears my needs, but He provides.  My hands were open.  I was positioned to receive what He had for me. This week we get the chance to celebrate the one-year anniversary of biblestudygirl.com.  My prayer going into this week is that we all open our hands and our hearts.  I really want us to be positioned for what God has for us.  #wepreach

Although 19 years have passed, I remember watching the events unfold on September 11, 2001.  I was a freshman in college.  At this point, I had established a routine.  My math class was first on the docket on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  I was thrilled that it was close to my dorm.  The proximity of the classroom made my journey to class a leisurely stroll and not a mad dash. At that point in time, I was more conscientious of my appearance.  What I am trying to say is that I made an effort to look my best.  I had not yet morphed into the girl who wore her most comfortable clothes to class.  Good Morning America played on the television as I picked out my outfit and fiddled with my lip gloss.  Then the strangest thing happened.  My usual broadcast was interrupted with breaking news. An airplane had hit a tower of the World Trade Center.  They did not know it was an airplane at the time.  Reporters were scrambling to figure out what exactly was happening.  I continued to get dressed as the tragedy unfolded.  Moving and getting myself ready for the day.  Until the second airplane hit.  I stopped in my tracks and could not look away from the screen.  Sadness flowed from every part of me.  It was too much.  I turned the television off and walked slowly to class. When I arrived at class, we were turned around and told that class was cancelled for the day.  I walked quickly back to my dorm room to see if the reporters had any additional information.  What a long, sad day.  As information began to unfold, my panic and anxiety rose.  I felt unsafe.  I grieved for those who lost their lives.  Air travel was suspended.  We sheltered in place. As time passed, stories of survival began to emerge from the rubble of the towers and the Pentagon.  We also learned about the lives of many that were lost on that day.  Every American’s life was changed on 9/11.  Although I lost some innocence that day, thousands lost their lives.  On today, I am taking a deep breath and thanking God for another day.  I will not ever forget.  #wepreach

Wednesday night Refresh was a continuation of last week’s Bible study.  Ya’ll know technology just would not let us be great last week.  Although we heard the scripture and a piece of the lesson, the bulk of the teaching was cut off.  Pastor took us back to Matthew 18:20 and encouraged us to reach out to fellow believers.  He reminded us that we thrive when we operate in the spirit of community.  As he was getting ready to close out with music, you could hear his speaker in the background saying that it had a low battery.  That cry out because of a low battery got us some extra jewels. He explained that his wireless speaker holds a charge for a long time.  He can use it for weeks without ever needing to plug it in.  Although the speaker was currently plugged in, it was still sounding the alarm for a charge.  The battery was so critically low that it would take a long time for it to charge back up.  Then my Pastor did what he does so well.  He used a real-life moment to challenge the saints, that’s you and me, to remain connected to God.  He asked us to remember that our ability to function without connection for a long time puts us in a precarious situation when our batteries finally run out. We have to stay connected to God.  Even when life is going well.  Even when all our bills are paid.  Even when our family is actually acting like family.  Because when we only run to God when our life is messed up, we come with an expectation that He will move instantly.  We are finally plugged in to the Source.  Where is our juice?  Where is our bounce back?  We get angry when the quick fix does not come.  But really, we have to realize that it will take time to fill up the space that we let become depleted.  Listen, before the super saints get angry, I know that God can move suddenly.  He has absolutely done that at different points in my life.  I am just cautioning people to not get angry at God when they run low on energy, because they pulled the plug on their connection. We can connect to God through prayer.  We can connect to God through the study of the scriptures.  We can connect to God through fasting.  We can connect to God through worship.  We can connect to God by fellowshipping with other believers.  There are so many ways to get re-energized.  We have so many options to plug in to who God created us to be.  If your soul is low and crying out for connection, what are you waiting for?  #wepreach

Fasting.  An essential part of every Christian life.  Except…let’s be honest.  How many of us make it a consistent part of our lives?  How many of us push away from the plate and spend time talking to God?  How often do we deny our physical bodies to improve our spiritual walk?  Bible Study Mama may have fasted when I was a child, but I do not recall fasting playing a role in our Christian lives growing up.  Occasionally, I would hear people discussing what they were giving for Lent.  Other than that, I do not really remember hearing much on the subject of fasting.  When you love Jesus as much as I do, and spend as much time in church and at church activities as I did, you are bound to link up with other believers that are more advanced in their Christian life.  I was having some kind of teenage drama in my life.  Who knows what it was at this point?  My friend suggested that I fast in addition to praying. This is the point in life where the record screeched.  Fasting????  She was not even suggesting a water only fast.  She recommended that I push away from soda and sweets for a week.  Listen, this was a radical proposition to my sweet-loving, hormonal teenage self.  Shoot, sometimes it is a radical proposition to my grown self.  Nevertheless, I decided to give it a try.  And I failed miserably.  I may have only lasted three days before I caved in to a Snickers bar that was harassing me and calling me by name while I was in the checkout line at the grocery store.  I was so ashamed.  I did not tell her that I failed.  I straight up lied and told her that I made it through.  Do not judge me.  Judge your mama. I had so much growing to do in that area of my life.  If you have read many of my blogs, you know that food is a hot button issue for me.  It is a comfort.  It is a familiar friend that I call on.  I use it to celebrate when life is awesome and soothe me when I am feeling down.  Saying that my relationship with food is unhealthy is an understatement.  And yet, in 2020 I find myself pushing away the plate to get in God’s face. Before Lent started this year, I felt God tugging on my heart to do a Daniel fast for Lent.  A Daniel fast?!  You mean only eating vegetables and fruit for 40 days?  Come on now, Lord.  I thought we were better than that.  Man, I wrestled with that thought until I finally gave in.  I’m so glad I did.  COVID-19 exploded during my fast.  Listen, if there was ever a time to be in God’s face, 2020 is it.  I made it through that fast.  I came out on the other side better. Then my real dilemma started.  I needed to make fasting a consistent part of my life.  Not just a once a year occurrence.  Bible Study Cousin challenged me to fast monthly.  Baby, my flesh rose up so quickly.  It did not take all that.  Finally, I realized that it did.  So, I surrendered to prioritizing fasting in my life. I cannot lie.  It has been difficult.  But 2020 has been difficult as a whole.  I am grateful for growth, and the opportunity to mature with grace.  I will let you know how this fasting thing turns out.  #wepreach

The summer of 2000 was full of new experiences for me.  Give me a second to adjust to the fact that was 20 years ago.  Man, time flies!!!  Anyways, I had been accepted into Arkansas Governor’s School in the area of drama.  My stepfather had worked there during the summers for as long as I could remember.  Because the environment was familiar, I was more comfortable with applying.  We will not talk about my audition and the audition process, but rest assured that I left it all there in front of the panel.  I packed my bags and got ready to spend six weeks learning new acting techniques and meeting new people. Arkansas Governor’s School was only open to students going into their senior year of high school.  Hundreds of students from around the state lived at Hendrix College in Conway.  Really, it was a great opportunity to get my feet wet for the college experience.  The classes were different from any class that I took in high school.  AND the teachers wanted us to call them by their first names.  Look, I was raised by folks that did not let you walk around calling adults by their first names.  Saying “Hey Linda!” to an instructor just did not sit right with me.  I am fairly certain that I avoided using my instructors names. Although many moments stand out in my mind from that summer, one memory surfaced just this week.  A food memory.  Ya’ll know how I feel about food.  Lunch time was upon us.  Part of the purpose of the program was to expand our minds.  To help us see beyond ourselves and consider the world at large.  Food shortage is a concern for many people in America and is also a concern for people across the world. Each year, they would take one day to show the students how food availability varied for people.  We were assigned to either a first, second or third world nation.  When we ate that day, we were only able to eat based on resources that would typically be available for that nation.  First world nations had no restrictions.  Second world nations had fewer options, and third world nations were offered the bare minimum.  I do not even remember which tier I was assigned, but I do remember looking around at different people’s plates and feeling sad. Such a simple concept.  To think outside of ourselves but often we cannot do it unless it is right in front of our face.  Unless we are personally impacted by it.  Lord, deliver me from that mindset.  Help me to be thoughtful of what other people are going through.  I do not always want situations to have to land at my front door before I realize how important they are.  #wepreach

On Sunday, Pastor wrapped up our journey through the book of Habakkuk.  And what a journey it has been.  Habakkuk began the book by asking God the tough questions.  He then had to stand ready to receive the answer that God had for him.  I don’t know about you, but it can be a challenge to hear a response that you did not anticipate.  Habakkuk handles it in stride. In Habakkuk 3:17-19, we get to witness a wonderful relationship.  Although Habakkuk has been angry with God…although he has been frustrated by the trials and tribulations that have threatened to overtake him, he continues to talk to God.  I just have to take a moment to acknowledge how big of a feat that is.  Habakkuk does not let the tragedies of life turn him away from God.  He chooses to seek the face and counsel of the One who can turn it all around.  What an admirable trait!  When I am frustrated and disappointed by people, I tend to walk away.  Honestly, I can do that a bit with God.  Instead of pulling closer to Him, I will find comfort and answers in temporary pleasures.  Food…mindless TV…sleep.  What makes Habakkuk so different?  What reasons did he have to continue to pour His heart out to God?  How did he rejoice in the midst of trials? Well, Habakkuk learned to prioritize his relationship with God in spite of the pain that he was enduring.  He did not minimize the difficulties that he was facing.  Y’all life can get messy.  Life can get really bad.  Sometimes people will ignore the chaos in their life.  Their right pinky toe could be falling off, and they will be in immeasurable pain.  But when you ask them how they are doing; they will say that they are blessed and highly favored.  I am sure you are blessed and highly favored sis, but your toe is about to be left behind.  Verbalizing a real pain to God can be the turning point in your healing.  Habakkuk realized the value in being honest with God.  In spite of the pain, he rejoiced in the knowledge that God was his strength. The good news for us is that not only was God Habakkuk’s strength, but He is our strength too.  After listing all the dead things around him, Habakkuk finds his Help.  He says that he will joy in the God of his salvation.  Yes, life can certainly be trying but we should not forget that we have much to be thankful for.  On a hill called Calvary (yea, we’re going to the cross), Jesus hung, bled, and died for our sins.  Thankfully that dead situation is not the end of the story.  Three days later, Jesus came out of that tomb with all power in His hands.  My salvation was secured.   So was yours.  Dead situations have the power to be resurrected when we remain in close relationship with the Giver of life.  I place my life in God’s hands because it is really His.  I rejoice because He first loved me.  What’s your reason?  #wepreach Do you turn away from God in hard times or turn towards Him? What are your reasons for rejoicing in God? List them. Meditate on them this week.

Happy Sunday folks!!!!  Let me just tell you that I wore myself out yesterday.  I got up bright and early to complete my Saturday morning walk with Bible Study Mama and my cousins.  The morning was cool.  A definite sign that fall was on the way.  All the rain the past couple of weeks caused my grass to grow.  Even though I had finished my official exercise for the day, I could not pass up the cooler temperatures.  I decided to go ahead and mow my yard. If you have read previous blogs, you may be familiar with my love/hate relationship with mowing my yard.  It definitely saves me money and is a good way to be active.  But it is also a good way to be active.  I know that I said that twice.  Being active has not always been a priority in my life.  So, while it is a plus, it has also been a minus at times. The cool weather continued to prevail by the time that I made it home.  I rolled the lawn mower out of the garage and got to work.  Every now and then, a cool breeze came through.  The sun was shining.  Birds were chirping.  Another beautiful day outside.  Until I started mowing around my fence line.  Back in the spring, I started my backyard clean up.  I cut down branches that were hanging over my fence.  I then dragged the branches to the front yard for pickup.  It was an entire project.  I quit after an hour never completed the project.  Unfortunately, that decision was making mowing the yard a complete hassle.  I was fighting tree branches all along the fence line.  Being slapped by branches was wearing me out.  I stopped mowing and grabbed my clippers.  I was getting these branches out of my way. I went clipping crazy.  Watching the branches fall gave me a sense of accomplishment.  Seeing my obstacles come down gave me a sense of victory.  Until I looked behind me and saw the huge pile that I needed to drag to the front yard.  And then I still had to finish mowing the yard.  I soldiered on and transported the branches to the front yard.  I finished mowing the yard.  And promptly fell out on the couch.  My physical labor was done for the day. Bless my heart.  This reminds me of my progress with my spiritual life.  I started the work.  Strong beginning and then I checked out.  I worked on other things.  Things that were important, but I did not go back to finish the assignment that was set before me.  I have so many areas that I need to cut off.  They brush against me while I am doing the work that I was called to do.  Sometimes, they even slap me.  I am making the effort to cut out everything that is slowing my progress.  I am dragging it into the open so that it can be carried away.  My prayer for you is that you see that God is bigger than your obstacles.  I pray you cut away the things that hinder your progress, and you remain active in the path that God has set for you.  #wepreach

My greed, while I was in college, helped start my pitfall into credit card debt.  Now when I say greed, I know you are thinking about a materialistic pull to have all the possessions that I want.  Like new clothes or home décor.  Naw.  I am talking about physical greed.  Your girl was hungry.  I ventured over to Subway with two friends of mine.  Side note:  I was a lady that lunched throughout my college experience.  Back to the story.  We pulled open the door, and there, right beside the entrance was a sweet lady with an even sweeter offer.  We could get our submarine sandwiches for free.  There was just one simple thing that we needed to do.  We had to apply for a credit card.  The sandwich was ours whether we were approved or not. In the very back of my mind…like really far back, go further back…yup right there…was the voice of Bible Study Mama.  She was yelling for me not to do it.  She was reminding me that I did not need a credit card.  Unfortunately, she was so far back there that I could not hear her clearly.  Huh???  Did someone say something?  Oh, well.  I filled out that application quicker than a Beyonce tour sells out. I do not remember what kind of sandwich I got, but I remember the day that 2 credit cards came in the mail.  I was on top of the world!!!  In my hands, I held the key to more fabulous lunches.  Honestly, I do not recall being completely out of control with my spending.  A purchase here and a purchase there eventually led to both cards being maxed out.  I was then stuck in an endless cycle and back and forth dance with paying them off with student loan money and running them right back up the next semester.  My greed got me into a lot of trouble. My dance with credit cards and credit card debt did not end there.  I have danced and dabbled with credit card debt since then.  It is so easy to go deeper and deeper into a pit once you get started.  Over the past year, God has curbed my appetite and interrupted this dance with debt.  I am being more intentional with my finances.  The pit is deep, but I am confident that the Lord will pull me out.  In the meantime, I will be making sandwiches at home and side-eyeing anyone that approaches me with a clipboard.  #wepreach

For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them. Matthew 18:20 Wednesday night Refresh Bible study began as it typically does.  Pastor gave pertinent announcements and then began to dive into the lesson.  He shared the scripture that was the focus of lesson.  He started talking about why the scripture was powerful.  And then…nothing.  My TV was frozen, and the spinning loop began to play on the screen.  I closed the app on the TV and went to my phone hoping that I had not missed too much.  The good news is that I had not missed a thing.  The bad news is that Bible study had stopped streaming for everyone.  When I think about the technology issues, they make the scripture all that more relevant.  In Matthew 18:20, Jesus declares that when two or three are gathered together in His name, He is there in the midst of them.  Well, let’s really think about that. COVID-19 has expanded my understanding of what it means to gather together in His name.  Social distancing has limited our physical contact.  No longer can we drag into the sanctuary on Wednesday night after a long day at work.  No more dressing up in our Sunday finest on Sunday morning to worship and fellowship together.  No, our gathering has moved to the online community. I now have a greater appreciation for this verse.  Although we are not gathered together in the same physical location, Jesus continues to show up in our midst when we log into a virtual service.  The Holy Spirit ministers to us in our own personal sanctuaries.  He does not need our bodies to be in one location to cue His arrival.  He makes His presence known to us because we have united with like-minded believers. Of course, gathering together virtually presents its own unique set of challenges.  Instead of being distracted by one of the deacon’s flashy new suits, now we get sidelined by a notification that pops up on the device that we are using to stream the service.  When two or three believers gather with Him on their agenda, He shows up.  I don’t know about ya’ll, but I do not ever want to miss out on experiencing His presence or His peace. The good news is that we do not have to wait for a virtual or in-person church service to experience Jesus in our midst.  We have the power to link up with other believers outside of church sanctioned activities.  You want to feel Jesus? Call on two or three friends that love the Lord.  You can have a prayer and praise service on the phone.  I once was challenged to find an accountability partner and pray with them every day for seven days.  I chose my bestest friend.  Although we had been best buds for a while, we had not prayed out loud for each other on the phone before.  We would definitely ask each other for prayer but had not stopped what we were doing in the moment to pray. The first few days it was awkward.  Praying out loud in front of others is not my favorite thing to do.  I can talk about Jesus all day.  I can talk TO Jesus all day.  He gets an earful.  Sharing prayer time with someone else changed the game.  It invited Jesus into the midst of our daily talks and shifted the atmosphere.  You cannot talk trash when you just felt the Lord’s presence. Technology failed on Wednesday night, but God didn’t.  I felt God in our midst.  He is not confined by technology or internet connection.  He wants to be ever-present in our lives.  Let’s have an atmosphere that welcomes Him into our midst.  #wepreach

It’s me again.  Back with another story of my eternal fight to be every woman.  I really think that people should try to do as much for themselves as possible.  No one likes a person who does not even try.  So, I will try.  Against every odd.  Bible Study Mama engrained it in me to be as independent as possible.  Honey, she kicked me out of the nest while I was screaming to get back in. Now listen, I do not fail all the time.  But when I do fail, it is spectacular.  Today’s tantalizing tale actually involves Bible Study Mama.  When I bought my house, I fancied myself to be a do it yourselfer, fixer-upper kind of gal.  During college, Trading Spaces was one of my favorite shows.  Neighbors would decorate one room in each other’s home.  The homeowner would have no input into what happened at their own home.  They had to trust their neighbor to deliver a quality look.  At the end of the show, they would unveil the work to each other. My love for home renovations really blossomed when HGTV came into my life.  All the home repair shows that you can take flood the network.  I would sit entranced and watch the homes go from drab to fab.  Often Bible Study Mama would be right beside me watching along.  When I bought my home, we both knew that we had the skills to at least rip out the things that needed to be ripped.  Yea…we just knew it. We started in my living room.  After my uncles and cousins took out the yucky carpet, a tile entryway remained in the living room.  I was getting new flooring and the tile had to go.  No problem.  The tile portion was not large.  We used all our strength to break the tile.  Ya’ll…After about 15 minutes, we walked away.  Maybe our arms would be refreshed after we tackled an easier task. We switched our focus to the vanity in the master bathroom.  We turned off the cold water line that was connected to the sink.  We cut the cold water line that was connected to the sink so that we could lift the sink out of the vanity.  We searched and searched but could not see the knob for the hot water line.  No worry.  We just snipped the hot water line as well.  And all hell broke loose. Hot water shot out of that line like one of the geysers at Yellowstone National Park.  We screamed and jumped back.  What to do????  We ran outside to the main water valve.  We were just going to shut it off at the source.  No go.  That valve was not budging.  Plan B was to bust a hole in the wall to find the hot water knob.  It had to be back there. The bathroom was super steamy and hot water was flowing freely on the floor.  This really turned into an epic adventure.  Supernatural strength flowed through my body as I hammered through that wall.  There it was!!!  The knob was within my reach.  The hot water stopped flowing, and we were able to catch our collective breath. As we mopped up water, we admitted out loud that we were probably out of our element.  My, my, my.  How often do I take things into my own hands that are completely out of my element?  Things that seem simple.  Things that seem logical to me.  Things that I believe that I have control over.  In my quest for independence, I can be found guilty of attempting to have dominion over areas that only God can fix. God is in control of my life.  I keep repeating it because I believe it and know it to be true.  I am learning to do what He asks me to do.  Nothing extra.  Nothing less.  I am so excited to see how He renovates me.  #wepreach

I am a pretty independent chick.  Asking for help is not a strong point.  My apartment in Houston was on the third floor.  No elevator.  When I went shopping, I was very conscientious.  I had no intention of making two trips up three flights of stairs.  I would be a bag lady.  Weighted down but determined to make it to the top.  I had made a quick trip to Target after work.  My apartment was missing something.  My spidey senses began to tingle when I walked by a bookcase.  I had to have it.  But that was not the only item that I picked up during that particular quick trip.  I do not remember the other items that I picked up, but I ended up with quite a few bags in addition to that bookcase. As I pulled into the parking space at my apartment, I began to re-evaluate my usual one trip decision.  I side eyed this boxed up bookcase as I lined my bags up on my arms.  Well, here goes nothing.  I picked up the bookcase and began my slow ascent. You know I had to put that thing down on the first landing and take a break.  Heavy breathing.  Regretting all my life choices.  The usual cycle that I have when I do dumb stuff.  Sigh.  But I was determined to do it all in one trip.  On to the second landing…and another break.  In the midst of that break, a neighbor happened to be coming down the stairs and saw my struggle.  He asked if I needed help.  You might think that I jumped at the opportunity for help.  You thought wrong.  I had to think for a minute before I agreed to accept his offer.  The fatigue won out and I let him take it on up the last flight.  I thanked him profusely and rolled into my apartment. Child, I am a whole fool when it comes to doing things on my own.  Don’t worry.  Although I still practice independence, I have learned to accept help.  Sometimes.  At least I am trying to do life with others.  That is progress.  #wepreach

I am grateful.  Every time I reach an uncertain moment in my walk with the Lord, He always sends reassurance.  Sunday’s sermon encouraged me.  It’s like Jesus sat down with me and said, “Girl, I got this.”  Hopefully, the sermon recap will let you know that He has you too. We are still in the book of Habakkuk.  Sunday’s sermon shined the spotlight on Habakkuk 2:1-4.  Habakkuk, a prophet continues to ask God the tough questions.  The nation of Israel is being persecuted by the Babylonians.  Essentially Habakkuk is concerned with why this is happening and how long they will have to endure the tough times.  These trials do not make sense to him.  I can certainly relate to Habakkuk.  This year has presented challenges that I do not see a way around.  God’s answer to my tough times, and yours too, is that we must live by faith.  Let’s dig a little deeper into what that means. First, we need to have faith in the character of God.  It is easy for us to get disillusioned.  When life is difficult, we can be consumed by our emotions and swayed by our feelings.  Even though our emotions change, our God does not.  He is the same yesterday, today, and forevermore.  God is loving.  He is a protector.  A provider.  Miracle worker.  Promise keeper.  Even when situations are bad and don’t make sense, we have to remind ourselves that God is not against us.  God is for us.  His character has not changed.  We have to continue to trust Him even when we do not like what we see. We also need to have faith in what God shows us.  God gives Habakkuk vision and tells Habakkuk to write the vision on tablets.  The vision looked nothing like the current situation that Habakkuk was seeing.  Here Habakkuk is faced with two things that do not make sense-the turmoil AND the vision.  In that moment, he had to make a choice to have faith in what God showed him.  He could not let his frustrations keep him from promise.  Since God does not change and is not a liar, we have everything to gain when we live in a state of expectancy.  That is why it is so important to have God’s promises etched on our hearts.  When hard times come, we can recall that God’s plan and vision is to prosper us and not harm us.  We should be in position and ready for all that He has planned for us. Lastly, we must have faith in God’s timing.  I have heard the same message three times in the same weekend.  God has put this on a loop.  He wants me to grab hold of this principle and not let it go.  Which has proved to be easier said than done for me.  God’s timing is definitely not my own.  At times, He comes swiftly.  Other times, He seems to tarry.  The scripture plainly tells me that though the vision tarries, I need to wait for it to come to pass.  God’s vision is for an appointed time.  Not just any time.  Not the time that I personally set.  An appointed time.  While I am waiting, I need to be working on what the Lord set before me.  Tough times often lead to tough questions with tough answers.  Answers that challenge me.  Answers that call me out and make me lace up my shoes.  Faith without works is dead.  God provided clarity and told me what it takes to make it through the tough times.  The ball is now in my court.  I must do the work to show that my faith is alive.  #wepreach Tough Questions That May Have Tough Answers: On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being impatient to 10 being the model of patience, where do you land when trials arrive? How do you land on the scale when trials persist for longer than you imagined? Does your life show faith or frustration with God’s timing? Decide on one step that you can take to live out your faith this week.

Lord, it has been quite a week!  I was sitting at home minding my business when I got a notification on my phone.  Chadwick Boseman, forever immortalized in his role as Black Panther, had died.  I instantly Googled the news to get more information.  Even though the post originated from his personal Instagram page, it was hard for me to fathom that it was true.  He was so young.  He was so talented. My mind was transported to going to see Black Panther with my family.  My family is nothing if not extra.  Although I was a novice in the Marvel world, I had family members that were truly knowledgeable.  I wanted to see the movie because it was an opportunity to see blackness celebrated.  The real Marvel fans were pumped to see the characters storyline come to life.  The trailer for the movie grabbed me and would not let me go.  Yes, my face was definitely going to be in the place. I mentioned that my family is extra right?  We planned ahead.  Tickets were purchased way in advance.  Black attire was the look for the night.  Anything African was also alright with us.  How often do we get to see movies that honor African heritage?  It was a whole vibe.  It was a whole experience.  After dinner and a mini photo shoot, we sat down to enjoy the movie.  We watched the movie unfold and were wrapped up in the storyline. By the end of the movie, I was floating on a cloud.  Wakanda forever.  Black is beautiful.  The acting…the landscape…the outfits.  I wanted to live in a world where my race was appreciated.  I did not want to return to a world where people saw me as less than or as a second-class citizen.  I wanted to be in the world where Black kings and queens were recognized as valuable.  To some, it was just a movie, but it really made me hope and dream. What a blessing to have lived a life that brought a smile to so many faces.  I did not know Chadwick Boseman personally, but his life’s work had an impact on mine.  His black was beautiful and had the power to remind me that mine is too.  What a legacy to leave behind.  #wepreach

Happy Friday!  We made it through another work week.  Welcome to another installment of my diary.  Well, this is like my diary.  I sit in front of the keyboard daily and pour out my heart.  Some days, I type sentences that will never see the light of day on the website.  I just feel the need to purge.  I feel compelled to get it out.  Then I backspace or simply delete the words.  The thought is swirled into the abyss. It is amazing to me that I have moved so far beyond my initial hesitation.  The one-year anniversary of biblestudygirl.com is just around the corner.  This blog is my baby, and I cannot believe how fast she is growing up on me!!!!  Time has flown.  And I have grown.  So much.  I can read my earlier posts and literally feel the pain that is seeping through the words on the screen.  Just revisiting those moments reinforces how good God has been to me. In the spirit of celebrating growth and transformation, I want to hear from you.  Share how you personally have grown since September of last year.  I want to hear your stories.  The testimonies of others continues to help increase my faith.  Honestly, the testimonies of other saints let me know that I was not alone in my struggles.  I was also not alone when I had victories to celebrate. Submit your testimonies to biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com.  It’s a celebrate!  I am so excited to make preparation for the official birthday of this blog.  Hopefully, you are just as ready to party.  How should I celebrate?  What do you want to know??  I look forward to your responses.  In the words of Bible Study Brother, “it’s not I preach, you preach, she preach, or he preach, it’s we preach.”  So, let’s get the conversation started.  #wepreach

2020 has been the kind of year that has left many of us on the edge of our seats.  From senseless killings of black men and women by police, to a worldwide pandemic, to a crazy political climate, to a tropical storm AND a hurricane barreling towards the United States at the same time.  A strange year indeed.  In the midst of all the upheaval, Wednesday night REfresh Bible has been a welcome port from the catastrophes that have befallen the world. Wednesday night dropped us into Psalm 124.  The entire psalm.  Not just a piece of it.  Psalms are songs that the Hebrews sang in praise to our God.  When they looked back over their lives and reflected on the goodness of the Lord, the psalms would be a sweet sound that exited their lips.  A song bubbling up from inside them that they could not contain.  King David begins the psalm by saying, “If it had not been the Lord who was on our side.”  Man, listen.  Go to any good old school church.  When they get to singing “if it HAD…NOT…BEEEEN…for the LORD…on my side, tell me where would I be…where would I be?”, the whole church gets to rocking.  You can feel that in your bones.  If God has done anything for you at all, you are immediately touched by the reality of those words. David was intimately acquainted with the goodness of the Lord.  He ponders the “what ifs” when he reflects on the hard times that he has encountered.  He quickly comes to the conclusion that if God had not been there to fight his battles, he would have been consumed by every trial that came against him.  His soul would have been overtaken by the cares of this world.  His reflection on God’s grace prompts him to thank God for blocking the enemy.  His reflection makes him grateful that the what ifs did not become his reality. I’m grateful for this reminder in the midst of a tumultuous year.  Life has certainly been full of snares, but what if God had completely removed Himself from my life?  What if His grace was not sufficient?  What if He ever let the cares of this world overtake me?  Although it has been tough, I am assured that God’s hand is ever-present.  God’s grace covered David when David was obedient AND when David stepped out of line.  God’s grace covers me too.  The weapons form but they will not prosper.  The snare of the enemy is broken, and we will escape.  No ifs are necessary. #wepreach

I tend to be a goal-oriented person.  While I will veer off course if I see something shiny, I generally have a destination in mind.  When I graduated from graduate school, I legit had a mini panic attack.  I had spent years working towards the goal of finishing my education.  That was completed.  Now, what to do???  Ummm…I cut off all my hair and decided to do travel therapy.  Bless my heart. You can tell that I like to set goals because I have shared many of my goals with you.  Like the list that I shared with you in the “37 for 37” blog.  If you have not read it, you should definitely check it out.  I take time to write the vision for my life and make it plain.  Which is the first step.  But here lately, I have been missing the mark. See, my goal in life is not perfection.  Although, I have been accused of being meticulous.  No.  My goal is to do better.  To stop wasting time.  To get the most of this life that I possibly can.  With that in mind, it is crucial that I perfect my aim.  Scratch that.  It is imperative that I begin to move in the direction that has been laid before me.  The targets are all there.  I just have not been aiming for them. Maybe you are like me.  Full of dreams.  The world laid before you, and you are refusing to aim for them.  Or maybe you are aiming and striving for them and have become discouraged along the way.  Either way, be of good cheer.  If you keep shooting towards the target…if you keep perfecting your aim, you will hit the bullseye.  I will keep you in my prayers, and I hope that you would do the same. #wepreach

A familiar sound greeted my ears as I was preparing for work.  I had trouble placing the sound though.  I peeked out my front window, and there it was.  A big yellow school bus parked right in front of my home.  The whoosh and squeak of the doors of the bus was coming through loud and clear.  School was back in session. As a kid, I desperately wanted to ride the school bus.  I have no idea why.  I am not an extrovert.  But for some reason, I wanted to squish onto a bus with a group of kids.  Bible Study Mama squashed that dream rather quickly, but she was careful to make other school dreams come true. When I was a kid, the first day of school was a big deal.  Bible Study Mama would take the time to make sure that we were prepared before the day arrived.  After receiving our school supply lists from the school, we would venture out to the store.  Shopping has always been one of my favorite activities, so I looked forward to picking out new supplies.  The smell of paper would be everywhere.  The stores would be crowded, but we would push through get every item on the list. Not only did we get new supplies, but we also received new outfits.  Poor Bible Study Mama.  Shopping is just not her thing.  Back to school preparation probably wore her out.  I would walk through the racks of clothing to compile the perfect back to school wardrobe.  When I got older, mama just gave me the card and let me have my way.  I know that took a weight off her back. Supplies-check.  New outfits-check.  What am I missing?  Back to school hair of course.  The styles varied over the years, but I was always excited to get a fresh style.  When all that was completed, I counted myself ready to start the new year.  My nerves would bubble up as the first day approached. The sight and sound of the school bus brought back so many memories.  I took such care to make sure that I was prepared to learn everything that I needed to learn at each grade level.  I had the supplies.  I had the look.  I went into school with fresh energy.  Lord, help me to have that same motivation to conquer the current spiritual level that I am on.  Supply me with everything that I need to do the work.  Let me look like I belong to You.  Please give me fresh energy.  I am nervous, but I am ready.  I know that school is now in session.  #wepreach

Let me tell you upfront.  Sunday’s sermon was off the chain.  Every Sunday I get a word, but this Sunday hit a nerve.  This sermon pulled up a chair in my house and sat right at the dinner table.  I ate it up and left the table more than satisfied.  I left the table absolutely full. Habakkuk 1:1-6 was the focal point of the sermon.  Habakkuk is considered a minor prophet.  Not because his ministry lacks validity but because his book in the Bible is small.  Small book but mighty message.  In these verses, we find the prophet Habakkuk frustrated.  He is concerned.  Injustice is prevalent everywhere he turns.  He cries out to God-the mighty, matchless, wonderful, powerful God- for deliverance for His people.  And God does not save. So Habakkuk gets to the heart of the matter.  He hits God with the tough questions.  How long will Habakkuk have to cry out before God responds?  Why does God keep showing Habakkuk iniquity?  Why does he see trouble all around?  Does God hear him?  Why won’t God save him??? Habakkuk is not alone.  The longer that we walk on the earth, the more injustice and trouble abound in our lives.  When we are taught not to question God, it can leave us in a precarious situation.  Let’s be honest.  Many of us have faced situations that leave us frustrated and desperate.  Heartache after heartache pile on us.  Who better to talk to than the One who can actually do something about it? God not only heard Habakkuk’s tough questions, but He answered them.  Habakkuk was not delusional.  The Chaldeans were indeed rising up against them.  The world was in disarray.  God’s response to Habakkuk was firm.  He says watch how I work this thing out for you.  Get ready to be amazed by how I use this calamity to work a new thing in your life.  Even if I told you how I was going to work it out, you would not believe me.  Be astounded by My goodness. Habakkuk would not have been given that encouragement if he had not voiced the questions that were eating away at him.  I also would not have been as charged up by the sermon if I had not been asking God the very same questions myself.  I serve the God of the universe.  If He cannot handle the tough questions, then how is He able to handle this universe?  Questions are necessary.  They help us to establish why we believe what we believe. My faith is evolving.  I am digging deeper, and it is causing me to have tough questions.  It is causing me to not stay silent.  It is moving me to ask God the tough questions concerning my life.  Questions that need answers.  Questions that make me seek God more.  And I was reassured that God can handle every tough question that I have.  #wepreach Tough-ish questions: Were you raised that questioning God is bad? How do you respond when challenges continue to mount up? Do you feel comfortable being honest with God about your challenges?

Good news everyone!  We still reads the Bible around here.  I am more than 100 days into this journey.  Woo hoo!  If I am being honest, I have not ever made it this far into a year long Bible reading plan.  I usually phase out after around twenty days.  So, my current progress is definitely a major improvement. Reading the Bible has created an interesting phenomenon in my life.  The more that I read, the more questions I have.  Every week, I read intriguing stories about people that I have not ever heard of.  They are not taught in Sunday School or preached about from the pulpits.  Or maybe they are taught about, but I was not paying attention.  Maybe their stories went right over my head.  My study is reinforcing the fact that I need to know the word of God for myself. Currently, I’m bouncing back and forth from I & II Samuel and the Psalms.  I am getting an in depth look at King David’s origin story.  And I am also learning about Saul and how he ascended to the throne.  I often hear of Saul and how he wanted David dead but did not know how he was chosen.  You should check it out. The thing that is most sticking out to me as I go through David’s story is the length of time that it took from him being anointed to him being king.  The Bible gives a lot of details about David’s life, and the obstacles that he faces before he ever becomes king.  Like he is anointed.  And life continues to hit him and hurt him.  He is anointed.  He is chosen by God.  But he has to wait and work through many obstacles before he receives his crown. Anointing does not mean that we get a pass, but it does mean that we have God’s hand on our life.  I cannot lie.  I have let the obstacles that I am facing lately weigh me down.  I go over things in my head and get discouraged.  I mean I know that God loves me, but I get frustrated when faced with all this uncertainty.  Reading David’s story in it’s entirety helped shift my mindset and my focus. I am anointed.  I am chosen by God.  In due time, I will receive my crown.  I just have to continue to do what God called me to do.  Let me stay committed to reading this here Bible.  #wepreach

We’re back at it!!! Bible Study Brother and I decided to have more fun with Bible Study Mama. The end of the conversation took a turn. You’ll have to hear it to appreciate it. #wepreach

Sizing up objects and getting a good grip on their size is not a strong suit of mine.  Like the time that I thought I could fit all of the décor for a wedding in my vehicle.  I have learned to take measurements and double-check what I think.  But it’s not entirely my fault ya’ll.  Geometry is where you learn relative positions of figures.  And my tenth-grade geometry class taught me something else. My tenth-grade geometry teacher was the head football coach.  I was nervous about taking the class because I had started to lose confidence in my mathematical abilities.  That worry would have been better served somewhere else.  The War Eagles were having a winning football season.  The team was on the path towards winning a state championship.  As a result, my teacher’s head was focused on steering the football team in the right path. We did work in the class, of course.  He would go over sections.  We would complete our homework.  Nothing too intense.  Well at least as far as geometry was concerned.  See, after we finished that the real intense part of the class would begin.  We would play Spades. Let me stop there and tell you that I had no idea how to play the game at that point.  My family would separate and have two tables running at holidays, but I was not really into the game.  I would watch them occasionally, but I had other stuff to do.  So, my classmates tutored me to get my head in the game.  They were patient with me and got me to a functional level.  When given the choice of a math lesson or Spades, I would choose Spades every time.  I felt real pressure though.  Black people are serious about Spades, and I was starting with a real disadvantage.  I did not know how to count cards.  Child, I was kind of a lost cause. In case you were wondering, our football team won the state championship that year.  My geometry teacher floated on a cloud of glory.  He stayed there all year.  On the other hand, I did not have a winning season in the Spades challenges that took place that year.  I learned that it was best to just watch and see if I could find my niche in other areas. You win some.  You lose some.  At least I was in the game.  Happy Friday!  I pray that you keep your head in the game today and know that you are not a lost cause.  #wepreach

Wednesday night REfresh Bible study at my church is a welcome reprieve in the middle of a busy week.  It centers me.  This Wednesday night was no exception.  We were all reminded to keep the glory of God where it truly belongs. Acts 14: 8-18 finds us in Lystra with Paul and Barnabas.  Paul is doing what he has been called to do.  He is preaching the word of God.  As he preaches, he notices a man in the crowd that has been crippled from birth.  Paul sees that the man has faith to be healed.  Paul tells the man to stand up straight on his feet.  The man does not just stand.  He leaps and walks.  His faith has made him whole.  The perfect example of faith coming by hearing.  The man’s faith created the atmosphere for a miracle to happen. You can imagine the reaction of the crowd.  I am sure many of them have known this man for a long time.  They are intimately aware of his condition.  They have seen him struggling and making do on a day to day basis.  And now, right in front of their very eyes, is a walking and leaping miracle.  Although they heard the same word, they do not have the same conviction.  They live in a world that is dominated by Greek gods.  So, they declare that Paul and Barnabas must be the Greek gods Zeus and Hermes walking around in human form.  In that moment, they have misdirected their praise. The towns people are not just offering lip service.  They begin to bring sacrifices to the gate.  Paul and Barnabas are understandably distraught.  They have spent all this time teaching and preaching.  And the people do not understand.  The glory does not belong to Paul, Barnabas, Zeus, or Hermes.  The glory belongs to God.  Paul did not heal the man.  The Holy Spirit tapped into the man’s faith and made him whole.  Instead of being puffed up and getting swept along in the frenzy of the crowd, Paul and Barnabas operate in the spirit of humility.  They continue to point the crowd to the one true God. Here lately I have felt a pressing and the urge to pour out everything that God placed in me.  I want to leave this earth empty.  I want God to use everything that He placed in me.  I want His purpose to be fulfilled.  My life should bring glory to His name.  The sermon continued a message that has come to my ears often.  We have purpose.  I hope that we can all remember to give God glory in every aspect of our lives.  Let’s keep the glory where it belongs.  #wepreach

Producers are always pushing out new content for my TV viewing pleasure.  Although I spent months watching new-to-me shows, I did not ever reach the point that I was out of shows to watch.  Just the other day, a new show popped up on my screen.  The trailer pulled me in.  I had to see more. The show is all about teams from around the world competing to complete an 11-day eco challenge.  What is eco-challenge you say?  Glad you asked.  I had never heard of it before.  An eco-challenge is a race that combines water, bike, and foot racing over hundreds of miles.  I think the show that I am watching has them traveling over 300 miles using those methods in the span of 11 days.  Apparently, people have been participating in these types of things for years.  Elite athletes clamored for a chance to win one of these challenges. The interesting thing about the challenge is that it really focuses on the entire team.  If someone on your team gets sick or injured and cannot complete the race, the entire team loses.  You cannot leave a man behind.  Which leads to some interesting dynamics and decisions on day one.  In an effort to remain at the front of the pack, one team pushes really hard while rowing on the ocean.  When they reach the island, one member of their team is overheated.  He’s throwing up sick. The captain of the team must take control and decide what their next move will be.  They have a 20-kilometer hike around this island.  He ultimately decides to tie a rope around their over-heated teammates waist and attach it to himself.  The over-heated teammate has to walk but the rope pulls him along at a much faster pace than he would walk on his own.  Before they begin, the captain lets him know that this will only work if he is willing to be helped.  The man consents and each member of the team switches out the responsibility as they travel around the island. Now, I have not completed this show but man.  That is serious dedication.  They have trained for this and do not want to give up on the first day.  Wouldn’t it be great if we all had that mindset?  If the entire human race believed that we need each other to survive?  If we did not consider it a victory if everyone didn’t cross over together?  I’m hopeful that I will at least be part of a community that takes these values and implements them. Ya’ll know I am doing good to still be participating in my 50-mile challenge for the month of August.  Most days it takes everything in me not to cancel my workout.  And then, I saw these folks.  Ooooooh weeee.  I will take my short walks ANY DAY of the week.  Actually, I need to be leaving to do that now so l’m out.  Happy Wednesday!  Try to pull someone along that needs a little boost today.  #wepreach

Farming runs through my veins.  I mean…I guess it does.  My great-grandfather was a farmer.  My grandmother and grandfather grew up around farming.  My mom worked the fields.  So, yea…farming is part of my legacy.  With all that being said, I have limited man-hours in the dirt.  I love the thought of a beautiful flower garden in my flower beds, and I love the thought of a vegetable garden in my backyard.  But when I think of the labor that is required to maintain those things… One day, my coworker gifted me with 2 cuttings of different plants.  I went to Home Depot to buy these two little guys containers and soils.  Maintaining a flower and vegetable garden seemed like too much work, but I could definitely handle these little fellas.  They nestled into their containers.  I placed them on the windowsill of my kitchen so that they would get sunlight.  Time passed.  I occasionally watered my new roommates.  No one was brown.  They were hanging in there.  Leaves pointed towards the sun.  I began to rotate them so that neither one of them felt that the other had a better spot.  Yup.  Things were moving along just fine. Then it happened.  My co-worker showed me a picture of her plant.  And it was huge.  We had both started out with cuttings.  My plant was still green.  It was not dead or dying.  But it was not growing like hers.  I expressed my concern about my poor fellas.  She asked how often I watered it.  Well, I was not exactly consistent with the watering.  I had lots of valid reasons for my inconsistent schedule.  She recommended more watering and even a different location for them to soak up some sun. That has been me at various points with my spiritual life.  My relationship with Christ is not dead, but it has not been growing as it should.  We are connected and I appear to be doing just fine.  However, I am not flourishing.  We talk regularly, but it has been haphazard on my part.  I have a feeling that I could be much stronger if I made daily time with Him a priority. I listened to my co-worker.  I moved the plants to a sunnier location.  I watered them on a regular basis.  And wouldn’t you know it.  They began to flourish.  The leaves spilled over the edges of the container and dragged the floor.  My plants went from green and alive to green and thriving. Lately, I have taken the same approach to my spiritual life.  Meditating on God’s word in the morning before I get out of bed.  Listening intently for God’s voice.  I’ve been basking in the Son.  In time, the love will spill over and everyone will be able to tell.  #wepreach

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. Romans 8:28 Sunday was jam-packed with celebration.  St. Luke pulled out all the stops to celebrate our 147th church anniversary virtually.  You can tell that everyone was in high spirits and profoundly grateful for the journey that the Lord has brought the church on.  The choir sang until they could not sing anymore.  The guest soloist left it all at the altar.  And then…it was preaching time.  What a word we received.  We left assured of the ways that God was going to use crises in our lives. We all encounter hardships.  Trials that we anticipated and some that blindsided us.  Whether we saw them coming or not, crisis has been known to shake our faith.  But there is great news.  Right out of the gate we were reminded that God has a miraculous way of bringing triumph out of tragedy. Romans 8:28 is frequently quoted in times of tribulation.  We read it when times are hard.  We may even say it to others to encourage them.  The verse gives us insight into God’s motive of deliverance for His people.  God is moved to work on our behalf when His purpose is threatened.  This is an awesome reminder to shift our thinking when crisis comes our way.  All things…everything…not some of the things, but all the things…will work together for our good. When we live lives that are surrendered to God, we open the door for God’s protection and provision.  He is with us.  Even when we do not feel like He is.  Even when we forget that He is.  He is still there.  And His presence is bigger, badder, bolder, and greater than any obstacle that we face.  We have purpose, and our purpose will be fulfilled.  No matter how great the crisis.  Despite the odds. Verse 29 really cracks the code of how God uses crisis.  While crisis does not ever feel good, it has the potential to strip away everything that is not like God.  True crisis begins to conform us to the image of Jesus.  We are shed of excess and things that do not have eternal value when tragedy makes a grand entrance in our lives.  It holds a mirror up to our faces and allows us to really see what is important.  We better understand what truly matters.  God uses crisis to get us to where we need to be. Be of good cheer saints.  When life is beating us up, we must remember that God is with us.  He gave each of us purpose.  We are all part of the story and have an important role to play.  We do not have to know the right words to say because God is writing the story for us.  We just have to remember that the ending is going to be magnificent.  #wepreach Questions to Consider: What are your initial thoughts when face with an obstacle? What motivates you to keep going when you face hard times? Recite a scripture that gives you hope. Recall one time that God showed Himself to be bigger than an obstacle.

A part of me thinks that I came out of the womb taking things into my own hands.  My mom was knocked out when I was born.  She says the first sound she heard when she woke up was me sucking my fingers.  See, even then I had things in my own hands.  Don’t worry guys.  The sucking fingers thing did not last long.  Once I figured out that there was no food coming out, I moved on to more important things. My hair care is one thing I took into my own hands at an early age.  I cared greatly about the way that my hair was styled.  At five years old, I had standards.  My mom had magic fingers and made sure that I was satisfied with my appearance.  I paid close attention to products that she used in my hair.  I watched her get my hair together whenever I could.    Since she worked two or three jobs at a time, there were times that I needed a babysitter.  One day, she had my older cousin come over to babysit.  I had to be six or seven years old.  My cousin settled into watching the soap operas and left me to my own devices.  We had not gone out that day, so my hair was not combed.  No problem.  I would take that into my own hands. I gathered my supplies.  Pink Oil moisturizer, brush, comb, bow bucket that was full of bows and rubber bands.  Yup.  Everything was present and accounted for.  Now on to the easy part.  Styling my hair.  I had watched my mom, great-grandmother, aunts, and cousins style my hair through the years.  Piece of cake.  I removed all the rubber bands from hair.  I poured the Pink Oil moisturizer into my hands and got busy. Ummm…the first style just did not look right.  My parts were crooked.  The rubber band was not tight enough.  Well, I had nothing but time.  Let me take this from the top.  Remove rubber bands.  Pour more Pink Oil moisturizer into my hands and apply to my hair.  Style.  Nope.  Still not right.  My hair got wetter and greasier.  This looked so easy when everyone else did it!  What was going wrong??? By the time my cousin thought to check on me, the damage was done.  There was enough moisturizer in my head to nourish the heads of ten little black girls and still have plenty left over.  What seemed so simple was proven to be outside of my skill set.  Although I watched so many people excel at styling my hair, I had a skewed understanding of how it should be done.  I was a child.  I thought like a child.  Wanting to take care of myself was not wrong, but I definitely needed guidance. I needed this reminder.  Too often, I attempt to take everything into my own hands.  I want to do it all.  It seems simple enough.  But my life is not my own.  Yes, God wants me to be self-sufficient, but He also wants me to know that I have limited understanding.  His thoughts are above mine.  He sees the entire plan from beginning to end.  Taking things into my own hands robs me of the ability to experience the fullness of life that He has planned for me. There is good news.  My hair was washed and styled by mom that night.  I went from a greasy mess to a glamorous girl.  She appreciated my effort but was able to give me some well needed guidance.  In that same vein, God restores me when I end up all greasy and grimy from doing things my way.  He can restore you too.  #wepreach

Losing a loved one is hard. Bible Study Brother and I discuss the ways that we handle grief. Well mainly Bible Study Brother, because I was having all kinds of emotions. #wepreach

The early years of my life were spent far out in the country.  I am talking about dirt roads and gravel roads.  Life was simpler for me in so many ways.  When you are a kid, you get to just live in the moment.  It seems easier to find pleasure in the little things.  One little thing that I always enjoyed was my great-grandmother’s sweet tea. This was not just any sweet tea.  One of my missions in life was to be in the know on what was going on in the kitchen.  So, I had a front row seat to the preparation of this delightful drink.  The recipe was simple.  She would add water to a glass jug that had a lid.  She would drop the tea bags in.  Now, we were on to my favorite part of this experience.  She would sit the jar outside in the sun. Summer days in Arkansas can be scorching.  As the day progressed, the tea bags would steep and release their flavor.  We could not rush the process.  We would go on about our daily activities.  I would be eyeing that jar waiting for the tea to be ready.  Truth be told, I don’t know what made her decide the tea was ready to be brought in.  But I do know that I was always excited taste the results of my wait. Of course, we did not just drink the tea.  She added sugar.  That was the crowning touch.  All the flavors melded together to create a refreshing treat. I like to think that that is what Jesus is doing in my life.  My time spent in the presence of the Son is changing me.  My thoughts and ways are being steeped by the heat of His presence.  Folks talk about a fire shut up in their bones.  The fire is not consuming me, but it is bringing out flavor that I never knew existed.  Then He sprinkles in things that make me uniquely me.  He sugars my personality.  He sweetens my speech.  He makes me a refreshing presence in people’s lives. I get caught up in making my next move and going on to the next phase.  Sometimes, I am discouraged by the process, but I AM learning.  I am learning to stop and remember the sweet joys of this life.  My prayer for you today is that you provide a sweet reprieve from the busyness of life for someone else.  May their time with you be refreshing to their soul and yours too.  #wepreach 

After a long week, I am always looking for something to pick me up.  Wednesday night REfresh Bible study certainly provides that for me.  Each week I walk away with practical solutions to an impractical world.  It’s only fitting that in the week leading up to the celebration of our church’s 147th anniversary that we were given encouragement to survive. This week we journeyed to Acts 27:13-26.  There we find Paul on a ship facing a storm of epic proportions.  At this point, Paul is a prisoner on the way to see Caesar.  When the journey begins, the winds are blowing softly.  Nothing out of the ordinary has taken place.  Things quickly change.  The winds increase in intensity.  The gentle wind is replaced by a tempestuous wind.  His smooth sailing has been replaced by calamity.  Isn’t that reminiscent of many of our lives?  Everything is smooth sailing until it isn’t. We have a better shot at surviving life’s storms when we learn to expect the unexpected.  People don’t get through life without having their ship rocked at some point.  And quite often the biggest storms that we experience are not the ones that we see coming.  Instead of throwing up our hands in disgust, we should always be aware that life has ebbs and flows.  Paul was on assignment from God and so are we.  We do not get to skip out on the storms.  As the storm progressed, the sailors began to throw cargo overboard.  The storm raged on and on with no end in sight.  In order to prevent the ship from sinking, the sailors decided to lighten their load.  They wanted to get rid of any cargo that could potentially weigh them down.  Listen, if we are going to survive life’s storms, we need to take inventory of habits and relationships that may be weighing our ship down.  We cannot stay afloat when storms arise if we are holding on to negative patterns.  We should throw gossip overboard and root around in that cargo for concern.  Lying should be tossed out and truth and faith should be brought up on the deck.  We need that if we have a chance of surviving. Of course, the storm continued to rage…as storms often do.  The storm stayed far longer than they could have imagined.  The sailors tried every trick in the book.  They did all that they knew to do.  They lost hope.  Paul stood and began to restore that hope.  He let them know that God had sent an angel to him that very night.  The angel reassured Paul that all on the ship would survive the storm.  Although the storm was raging, God had a plan and purpose.  Paul would survive this storm because he had a mission.  I get caught up in my feelings.  You know I can be found guilty of trying to figure out when storm will end.  Even though I know I will survive, frequent reminders of God’s promise help me weather the storms. Storms come for us.  They may be financial, spiritual, physical, relational, or emotional.  They come and they rage.  They threaten to tear apart the ships that we are using to sail through this life.  Take heart my friends and be of good cheer.  God’s promise for our life is certain.  You will survive.   #wepreach  

Have you ever smelled something, and it brought back a memory?  My fragrance of choice was cucumber melon when I was in high school.  Smelling that transports me back to the late 90’s and early 2000’s.  Our sense of smell is an amazing thing.  My bi-annual trips to Bath and Body Works were focused on maintaining a sweet fragrance in my home.  Nothing too overpowering.  I wanted a scent that was just right.  And not just for my home.  I spent years thinking about a signature scent. During my early 20’s, I moved on from my cucumber melon obsession.  I figured that I was a grown woman and needed a scent that was more mature.  Now, I had to decide what I thought maturity smelled like.  After much trial and error, I settled on my new scent.  I was committed.  I had made a great choice. After all that debate, my cousin asked me what perfume I was wearing one day.  I told her.  She said that she really like it and wanted to get some.  Of course, people’s body chemistry reacts differently with different fragrances.  We can have on the same fragrance, and it will smell different on each of us.  But I had just spent all that time finding a fragrance that worked with me.  Now, she wanted in on my new find. Most people are not as anal.  I know.  I get it.  I have loosened up over the years, but I latch on to things and fragrance is one of them.  We all have a natural scent.  When I was in love, child…..I LOVED the way that my man smelled.  Not his cologne.  Just his natural scent.  If you lined up five identical jackets that had been worn by five different men, I would have been able to tell you which jacket he had worn just by smelling it.  But when I was out of love, the smell of his jacket repulsed me.  A switch turned on in my head and the smell that I loved became associated with bad choices. My cousin bought the perfume.  It smelled different on her, but it came from the same bottle.  Although I spent years crafting my signature scent, I get lazy at times when it comes to thinking about the spiritual aroma that I’m putting out.  When we accept Christ, the Holy Spirit begins to dwell in us.  We get a new signature scent.  We are supposed to emit a sweet smell that draws others in.  They should want to know how to get what we have. Unfortunately, we are not always aware that our body chemistry is at odds with the Holy Spirit that is within us.  We live lives that do not glorify God.  People come to associate Christ with the ones who left an unpleasant aroma.  Thank God for grace and mercy!  Even if that has been our story in the past, we can course correct.  We can tell the Holy Spirit that we are ready to embrace the sweet fragrance that He has to offer. My prayer for you today is that your life will be a pleasing aroma to God.  That you walk in supernatural favor.  That God graces you with his signature scent.  #wepreach

Recently I shared with ya’ll that I am participating in a fitness challenge for the month of August.  I am on a quest to walk 50 miles during this month.  Baby, when I say that it has been a challenge….a challenge.  Bible Study Mama and I mapped out a couple of different routes.  First, we went for a long walk in her neighborhood.  The next day, we went for a long walk in mine. We sailed through the first weekend like champions.  When I use the word “sailed”, I am actually exaggerating.  We fought to get those miles in.  Although I do not care for encouraging words when I am exercising, I found myself saying out loud “We can do this” and “We’re almost there.  Just keep pushing.”  When that did not seem to boost me, I started singing.  Gospel songs.  Out loud.  Bible Study Mama did not find this helpful.  I told her to sing along.  I won’t tell you what she said to me.  But we made it through the weekend. Then our first actual week of workouts commenced.  The Lord was gracious and saw fit to make the weather milder for our first work-week workouts.  We were able to meet up later in the evenings and complete our walks.  Bible Study Mama chose our route, and I agreed.  Even though we were going to have to climb a steep hill twice.  The week actually went along fairly well.  We monitored our pace and saw some improvement.  But as the week wore on, we got tired.  Just plumb worn out.  And that hill looked steeper and steeper with every climb. Friday arrived.  We had been faithful to our plan all week long.  I wanted to call her and tap out, but I didn’t.  We began our walk, but you could tell that neither one of us was really feeling it.  When I say we walked slowly, I mean we walked S…L…O…W…L…Y.  We were walking so slowly that a woman in slide in shoes zoomed past us and marched up the hill.  You know who did not care?  Us.  We were tired but determined to finish what we started. We reached the bottom of the hill and looked at each other.  I asked Bible Study Mama just how long she thought it took us to climb this hill each time we reached it.  She guessed four minutes.  I told her it felt like it took that long, but I thought her estimate was a stretch.  I decided to time our slow ascent.  One minute…one long, sweaty, hard minute later, we were at the top.  Our walk was almost complete.  It took longer than usual, but who cares?  We finished what we set out to do. Ya’ll I have to remind myself that I cannot quit.  I cannot quit when life gets hard and life has been getting hard for me.  I have been facing trials that are an uphill climb.  The hill is steep, and it seems like I have been trudging uphill forever.  I started out optimistic and lost my vigor along the way.  I went from singing to silence.  Ugggh.  But have not quit.  I am hanging on to Jesus with all that I have.  I do not know when I will reach the end of this challenge, but one thing is sure.  I will finish.  #wepreach

2020 has been a challenge for many of us.  Global pandemic, financial issues, relationship problems…the list goes on.  In the midst of all our trials, we have needed constant reminders to keep us encouraged.  We need strength to endure.  Where can we pull that strength from?  Sunday’s sermon gave me and boost and reminded me where my help comes from. King David is the author of Psalms 27.  He spends the first half of the psalm encouraging others and then there is a shift.  He begins to speak about his personal experiences with the Lord.  He begins to remind himself of the goodness of the Lord.  He begins to encourage himself. In verse 13, David acknowledges that fainting is a possibility.  We serve a God with all power.  We serve a God who put on human flesh to walk among us.  We know that He can do anything but fail.  And we also know that we are very much human.  Although the Holy Spirit dwells within us, quite often our flesh is weak.  While we can try to be super spiritual, we do get tired.  Fainting is a real possibility.  David reminds himself and us that while it is possible to faint and lose heart, we have to believe that God’s goodness will prevail.  And we do not have to wait until we go to glory to see it.  We can see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. David also reminds us that there is power in our faith.  Trials happen in everyone’s life.  We get bumps and bruises.  The best place to encourage ourselves and strengthen our faith is in the house of the Lord.  Well, some may argue that that advice is not helpful.  Many church buildings are shut down.  But a real tried and true saint realizes that our bodies are the house of the Lord.  The Holy Spirit lives within us.  We can praise God right where we are because He is present through it all. One of the biggest ways to encourage ourselves is to think on our history with God.  When we remember how well He has taken care of us through the years, it gives us a boost.  I have to had to verbally say out loud that God has taken good care of me.  I have had to remind myself that all hope is not lost.  We just have to hold on until our change comes.  Newer saints may not have that history that draw on.  The only way to fix that is to begin to develop a relationship with God.  Trust that He will work things out.  Listen, I know it is not easy.  I speak from personal experience.  We might also have to look and see the ways that He has transformed the lives of others.  And believe that He will do the same for us. David faced trials of many kinds, and yet he still had hope.  His hope was built on a firm foundation.  His hope was built from a sincere relationship with God.  When life got rough, as it often will, David reminded himself of where his hope came from.  David encouraged himself, and we would do well to do the same.  #wepreach Think about these things: How do you handle constant disappointments? Do you have consistent devotional time? If not, challenge yourself to begin with 5 minutes each day this week. If you do, have you found it be helpful? Think of one occasion when God made a way for you. Celebrate His goodness.

In my quest for a healthy lifestyle, I embarked on a challenge to walk 50 miles in the month of August.  Well, let me be totally transparent.  I have been working out four days a week for a majority of 2020.  While at home in quarantine, I maintained consistency.  On some days, my workout would be walking.  On others, I would find a routine on YouTube and go for it.  However, once I went back out into the working world, my workouts slacked way off. Bible Study Mama cornered me one day.  As only mama bears can do and said that we needed to start walking again.  Here is my honest reaction (in my head).  Naw fam!  But what I said out of my mouth is that I knew she was right.  The good Lord had been telling me to get back on it.  My mama was confirming what I already knew.  We came up with tentative days of the week and moved on with life. I guess Jesus figured that I really did not understand what He wanted of me.  That same week my cousin challenged us to walk 50 miles in the month of August.  Now my initial reaction to her proposal was much stronger than my reaction to my mom’s request to get back on it.  Luckily, her proposal came through text so I had time to get myself together before I responded.  My flesh flared up at the suggestion that I should push myself.  Like, in a BIG way. In that moment, I had to make a choice.  Was I going to give God enough to satisfy His request or was I going to commit to pushing myself beyond what felt comfortable?  While I do not believe at this moment that 50 miles a month will be a lifestyle, do I trust God enough to reach for goals that seem impossible?  My flesh was surely saying no, but I could not deny that still small voice was pushing me to do it. I did not blindly say yes to a 50-mile challenge.  I counted the cost.  Literally.  I calculated how many miles I would have to walk each day to make this goal a reality.  And then I got sad when I saw the numbers.  I averaged about 32 miles a month on workouts.  Adding a whole 18 more miles was a stretch.  I barely did the 32 miles.  Come on now Jesus!  But I still said yes. We are nine days into the month now, and we will have walked 22 miles of the challenge by the time today is done.  LOOK….AT…..GOD!  Oh yeah, I realized something.  On Saturday, I completed the first goal on my 37 for 37 birthday list.  I have walked three 5k’s in the month of August.  I wrote the vision, made it plain, and completely forgot about it, but God did not.  Pays for me to listen to Him.  I will let you guys know how the rest of the month pans out. If you see two thick sisters walking up and down hills, huffing and puffing, do not mind us.  We are just obeying our Father.  #wepreach

My cat, Fitz, has a water fountain.  Listen, I told ya’ll that I like the razzle-dazzle in life.  I am not a cat person by nature, so I did lots of research before I decided to adopt my dude.  Time after time, I read stories that cats can become dehydrated.  They just do not drink like dogs do.  Dehydration causes them all kinds of health issues, and I just was not here for that.  Then I saw it, a pet water fountain.  You know I was sold. The water fountain arrived in a nice neat box.  I opened the box and found that I could not simply add water and plug the fountain into the outlet.  I saw a filter, a pump, and other pieces that I could not easily identify.  I read the instructions and assembled the fountain with little hassle.  Oh, the joy when I plugged it in!  Water bubbled and then flowed easily out of the top of the fountain. His fountain resides in my bedroom.  There is less foot traffic there, and he can drink and eat in peace if visitors are around.  (Well back when I used to have visitors).  In my mind, this was the perfect spot.  However, I had not accounted for the sound of the water fountain.  It is rather loud.  It is so loud that visitors can hear it when my bedroom door is closed.  And new visitors generally assume that I have left the water running.  They always let me know, too.  Yea, I liked the look of the fountain, but I was not prepared for the maintenance or the sound.  One day, I noticed that the water was not flowing as heavily.  As a matter of fact, I could barely hear the fountain.  The lower bowl had plenty of water.  Hmmm….I pulled out the instructions again.  Apparently, I was supposed to clean this fountain.  I breezed over that part when assembling the fountain.  I had ordered extra filters but had not given those a second thought either.  Apparently, I was supposed to change the filters too.  Imagine that! I unassembled the fountain and found a big mess.  It was gross.  Poor little tiny kitten was not getting the quality of water that he deserved.  I scrubbed the icky parts, changed the filter, and put fresh water in the bowl.  When I plugged the fountain back in, water lept out of the freshly cleaned spout.  Old Fitz was back in business. You know I’m about to bring this into context with my spiritual life, right?  Okay.  Just checking to see if you know what you signed up for.  My beginning walk with Christ arrived packaged in a nice box like this here water fountain.  I took all the pieces that were given to me and just went with it.  There were so many things that I did not understand, but I did not question them.  I plugged in to Christian life and spouted the truth of Jesus.  I looked good.  I professed my faith loudly.  Others heard it and saw it in my life.  Even when I tried to close it behind doors, you could still hear the truth of who Christ was to me. Then over time, my witness began to quiet.  The difference was not noticeable at first.  I was slowly polluted by the cares and trials of the world.  My witness was not flowing like it needed to.  And one day, I noticed just how quiet I had become.  How to fix it?  I had to disassemble the pre-packaged Christianity that I had been given.  I had to discover my own relationship with Jesus Christ.  I had to go to the instruction manual, the Holy Bible, for myself.  Getting my faith second hand left me in a clogged-up position. The cleaning has not been an easy process.  There is muck in crevices that I did not anticipate.  Cleaning requires work and sometimes I do not feel like it.  But know that it is important.  There is a thirsty world that needs the Living Water.  I do not want them to come to get a drink from a polluted fountain.  So each day, I take time to check myself for areas that have not had a good scrubbing.  I want to be sure that I am in working order.  #wepreach

You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men. Matthew 5:13 August is a very important month for St. Luke Missionary Baptist Church.  We are celebrating our 147 anniversary!!!!  Wow!  Listen, I get goosebumps when I hear of a couple that has been married 30 years.  I think of how they had to work to stay together that long.  I think of the memories that they have created in their time together.  So to realize that a body of believers has remained in fellowship for 147 years is mind-blowing.  In order to kick off our monthlong festivities, Wednesday night REfresh came back in with a bang.  Ladies first.  And I received quite a word about remaining salty. Matthew 5:13 is part of Jesus’s famous Sermon on the Mount.  He addresses a variety of topics throughout the sermon, but this verse admonishes believers to be salty.  In urban vernacular, being salty means that somebody is in their feelings. (I realize that I just used slang to describe slang…be patient guys.)  It means that someone feels hurt or upset.  But that is not the type of salty that Jesus is speaking of.  Salt has specific qualities that we would do well to possess. Salt enhances the flavor of meals.  There is nothing like spending time creating a wonderful feast for others.  The food smells amazing and is picture perfect.  Your guests sit down at the spread of food and have their first bite.  And then reach for the salt.  It looks good.  Smells good.  But is missing an ingredient that takes the meal up a notch.  As believers, we can look good and smell good but still miss the mark.  We have an obligation to enhance the lives of those around us.  We should add joy.  We should help others to level up. Salt also preserves.  When refrigeration was not an option, salt saved the day.  Folks would rub their meats down with salt so that the meat would not spoil.  Although I am not advocating for you to rub others down, I am advocating for you to preserve the truth of God’s word.  Even when it is unpopular.  Even when it stings for others to hear it.  We want people to have life and have life more abundantly.  We must be willing to do what it takes to keep God’s word alive. Salt creates a thirst.  Sitting around eating salty food will make you feel parched.  Being around a believer should create a similar sensation.  We should be loving.  We should be compassionate.  We should remain faithful when it would be easier to walk away.  We should be calm when the storms of life are raging.  Others should want to experience the kind of relationship that we have with Christ.  They should thirst for a drink of Living Water. Being salty is not always easy, but it is always necessary.  If we are not salty, we have a big problem.  We lose our flavor.  If we have no flavor, we are useless.  We are tossed to the side.  We don’t provide value.  I guess you could say that our living is in vain, and no one wants to experience that.  We have our orders ya’ll.  Let’s stay salty.  #wepreach

Bible Study Mama messed me up.  When I was a kid, she decided that it was important for her children to know that there was a world outside of Little Rock, Arkansas.  Bible Study Brother and I grew up spending our summers in St. Louis with our grandmother until she moved back to Arkansas when I was twelve.  We cherished the time that we had with our grandmother, and we also looked forward to our end of the summer trip. Although we did fly to St. Louis once, our travel was primarily done by car.  We mastered the art of road tripping.  Bible Study Mama and my grandma would plan the road trips for us.  We road tripped the way road tripping should always be done.  Before we ever got on the road, mom wanted to be prepared.  Back in those days, there were no really elaborate electronics to occupy kids while they were riding.  I mean, I kind of recall Bible Study Brother having a Game Boy, but that did not keep his attention for the whole ride.  Nope.  In preparation for the trip, we would go to Books-A-Million.  We could get whatever books or car riding games that appealed to us. Now ya’ll know the items that were purchased did not hold our attention the whole way.  This is where the beauty of road tripping exploding.  Bible Study Mama and grandma would have a destination in mind for the end of the day, but the middle of the day was wide open for exploration.  If a sign on the freeway caught my grandmother’s attention, we would get off the freeway and investigate whatever the sign was talking about. And then there were the conversations.  And the music.  My mom had the biggest box of cassette tapes you have ever seen.  Over the years, the cassette tapes evolved from mostly R&B to mostly gospel.  I could tell ya’ll about the time Bible Study Brother flipped out over the music selection while we were riding to Las Vegas.  While mama was evolving, he was not.  And he was NOT having it.  The way we laughed at him then and now just thinking about it. Yeah, Bible Study Mama messed me up when she gave me a love for exploring the world outside of my everyday environment.  She created precious memories and a love for travel.  Baby, she gave me roots AND wings.  I’m grateful for both.  It has given me perspective that many other people lack.  If you’re able, do the same for the kids in your life.  Show them that life does not exist in a box.  This prepares them for the world outside the four walls of your home.  Bible Study Mama’s intentionality with my life certainly gave me a firm foundation and a fighting chance to make it.  Happy Wednesday!  I pray that you are intentional today in cultivating other people’s roots.  What you do and what you say makes a difference.  #wepreach

Everyone has a list of must-haves when they are in the market for a home.  My list of must-haves included a garage, fenced backyard, and a tub that I could fit in.  I know…I know.  The tub probably threw you for a loop, but I am a lover of a good soak in the tub.  And if I was going to throw my hard-earned money into a home, I wanted to at least be able to soak and relax at the end of a long day at work. My search for a home gave me access to the way that others live, and it was eye-opening.  Also eye opening was the fact that my big body was not going to be able to squeeze into most of these tubs.  Honestly, I was not just in the market for a home with a run of the mill tub.  I wanted a garden tub.  I have champagne tastes on a wine cooler budget okay. My realtor called one day and said that he had found a cute little house.  Those were his exact words, and I love him for it.  I told him that we could look at it as soon as I left work that day.  We pulled up to a foreclosed home.  The lights to the home had been cut off.  He pulled out his flashlight so that we could see the inside of the home as we walked through.  The carpet was disgusting.  There was an axe mark in the front door.  The master bathroom had mold in the vanity.  The piece de resistance was the miniature tub in the master bathroom.  But I saw past the mess and envisioned the masterpiece that this home would be.  He was absolutely right.  It was cute. The carpet was ripped out by the men in my family.  The walls were all repainted.  New flooring was placed throughout the home.  But I still did not have one of my must-haves.  That tub in the master bathroom was child’s play.  I could not rest until I had a tub that I could sink into after a long day.  My contractor told me that the tub that was currently in the bathroom was not a standard sized tub.  For some reason, they used a smaller sized tub when building the home.  A standard sized tub would be too long for the current space.  His solution was to tear down part of the wall between my bedroom and bathroom so that a standard tub would fit. Listen, I had him explain it to me in several ways.  I had him to explain it several times.  I could not for the life of me imagine how he could make this happen without things looking extra crazy.  A garden tub was out and now I had to find a tub that would fit in this space AND fit my body.  A lesser shopper would have given up at this point.  However, I was a woman on a mission.  He gave me the measurement parameters, and I was off. Let’s recall my champagne tastes on a beer budget, shall we?  Jesus was on my side and directed me to the right place.  I was able to secure a tub that would fit my body AND the space.  Installation took forever.  Throughout the process, it looked crazy…until it was complete.  This tub was not crazy.  It was EVERYTHING!  I happily soaked and celebrated the end of that harrowing process. Every day, I get reminders of God’s goodness and His grace when we are going through processes.  While we are changing and becoming, life can be discouraging.  We have our eyes set on what we want, and nothing seems to be lining up…until it does.  Do not quit.  At the end, you will get to soak in all that God has for you.  #wepreach

Relationships are not always what they seem.  Sadly, some people stick close to you in an effort to see you fall.  Jesus accepted an invitation to dinner at Simon’s house in Luke 7:36-50.  Simon was a Pharisee.  He knew the rules and customs.  He knew the etiquette and traditions.  But he did not anticipate the way that Jesus would interact with a woman that Simon considered to be beneath him.  Today’s sermon recap recounts the events at that dinner and challenges us to dig deeper. As Jesus is reclined at the table, a woman of the night enters the home with an alabaster flask of fragrant oil.  She does not say a word.  While standing at the feet of Jesus, she weeps, washes His feet with her tears, wipes His feet with the hairs of her head, kisses His feet and anoints His feet with the oil that she has brought with her.  She worships the Lord of hosts and is not deterred by the others in the room. Simon witnesses this scene.  Although he has opened his home to Jesus, his motives were not entirely on the up and up.  He, like the fellow Pharisees, does not buy into the claim that Jesus is the Savior of the world.  When Jesus does not immediately reject the woman, who is a known sinner, Simon feels justified in his thinking.  He thinks to himself that if Jesus was a prophet then he would know who the woman is.  He thinks that Jesus would be aware of her sins.  Simon does not say his thoughts aloud.  He does not mumble a single word, but Jesus knows what Simon is thinking and decides to flip the script on Simon. Jesus tells a parable of two debtors that owe debts.  One owes five hundred and the other owes fifty.  Neither man has money to pay what they owe.  The creditor forgives both debts.  Both men walk away freely.  Jesus asks Simon which man would love the creditor more.  Simon responds that it is probably the man that owed the most.  Jesus assures Simon that his answer is correct.  And then Jesus does what Jesus does best.  He puts Simon in his place. Remember I told you that Simon was a Pharisee and was well aware of the rules, customs, and traditions of their culture?  Well, old Simon neglected the basic care of Jesus when he invited Jesus to his home.  Simon had not given Jesus water for His feet when He entered Simon’s home.  He did not greet Jesus with the standard kiss.  Simon did not anoint Jesus’s head with oil.  The woman, the sinner that Simon despised, did all three.  She demonstrated her love for Jesus with all that she had.  Her praise said it all. She let her hair, her glory, fall freely at the feet of Jesus.  Her glory was submitted to the ultimate glory.  She worshipped at the feet of Jesus because she had a debt that she was unable to pay.  And Jesus, the Savior of the world, had taken on flesh so that He could pay it all for her.  While she was praising, Jesus told her that her sin was forgiven and that her faith had saved her.  He commanded her to go in peace. Life gets heavy.  Sometimes it is easier to judge others and the way that they are handling their life.  It can be simple to point fingers and neglect to see the condition that we are in.  Instead of judging others’ praise, we need to take our personal time at the feet of Jesus seriously.  Our praise and worship are intimate.  It is a time to love on Him with all that we have because He has paid it all for us.  And our praise should say it all.  #wepreach Think On It: What does your praise and worship look like? Do you praise in private? Name three things that God has freed from.

We all have different tastes.  That goes for food, clothing, décor, relationships, etc.  Your idea of delicious food may not be closely aligned with someone else’s idea of delicious.  Growing up, and even now, I looked forward to the holidays and any family gathering.  My family would be cooking, and I knew that I was in for a treat.  Everyone had their specialties and assignments.  My mouth was always ready to taste the product of their labors.  This is the food that I was raised eating.  I was accustomed to the flavors and smells.  Never once did I fear that the chefs would not deliver a quality meal. By the time that I became a teenager, I recognized that although many people love their family’s cooking, every family’s cooking was not created equally.  They were eager to share what their aunt, uncle, or mom prepared.  I am a fat kid, so I was eager to try it.  And sometimes, I was left disappointed and wondering if I knew what delicious was.  Actually, I wondered if they knew what delicious was. Now that I’m older and my taste has changed, I question if I would enjoy the dishes now.  Within the last seven years, I have fallen in LOVE with mushrooms.  At one point, I was putting mushrooms in just about everything.  They were just that good to me.  I couldn’t get enough of them.  I have backed off on my mushroom push, but if I walk past them in the grocery store, they are probably going in my shopping cart.  Time and experience changed the way that I viewed mushrooms. That makes me think of the million of people that have rejected Christ and Christianity at some point along the way because of a bad experience with a Christian.  Every Christian home teaches things differently.  Some Christian homes push love and understanding while others push condemnation.  So, if you get offered a taste of Jesus by someone that pushes condemnation you might not have found the offer appealing.  Before ya’ll get your panties in a bunch, I am well aware that God wants us to live holy and righteous lives.  I am also well aware that He is the judge and not me. I want everyone to taste and see that God is good.  I want the world to recognize that the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear Him.  I want people to experience the joy and peace that I have grown up with.  Every day with God has not been easy, but every day has been purposeful.  Even if you’ve tried Him before and didn’t like it, I invite you to try Him again.  Your taste may have changed over the years.  #wepreach

Yesterday, I was in virtual attendance at the funeral of Congressman John Robert Lewis.  I was late.  I actually missed most of the service.  The service was held at Ebenezer Baptist Church, where the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once pastored.  I tipped in as Jennifer Holiday was singing “Take My Hand, Precious Lord.”  As she finished her selection, out walked President Barack Obama to eulogize Congressman Lewis. President Obama began his eulogy with James 1:2-4. “My brethren count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience.  But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.”  What an awesome beginning to a thought-provoking eulogy and acknowledgement of a life well lived.  Congressman Lewis certainly faced trials of many kind. He walked and worked alongside Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and other well-known figures of the Civil Rights Movement.  There was no Instagram, Snapchat, Twitter, or Facebook that propelled him to get to action.  He was not posing for a picture.  He was fighting for justice and was willing to get into trouble to secure a change. The trouble and trials that he encountered were intense.  Mobs of people beat him on more than one occasion because he stood up for his rights and the rights of other Blacks.  Listening to him describe his experiences sends chills down my spine.  Beaten, lit cigarettes put out on his back, thrown in jail.  Oh, so much trouble.  Despite the trials, he persevered. I admire his ability to withstand the fierce opposition and not throw in the towel.  And not throw hands.  He remained non-violent.  Patient.  And patience had a perfect work in him.  His life produced fruit that speaks for itself.  He earned his rest. Though Congressman Lewis rests with the angels, there is still much work to be done here on earth.  We live in an America that continues a legacy of injustice and inequality.  It’s time for us to stand and resume our campaign for equal rights.  In due time, we will be perfect and complete.  Lacking nothing.  Let’s get in good trouble.  #wepreach

Most of my workday is spent on the floor.  Of course, I have tiny chairs and tiny tables.  The tables and chairs are necessary, and I do utilize them.  But there is something about getting on a kid’s level that I love.  Every now and then I come across a two or three-year-old that prefers the table, but that is more of the exception.  Today, I sat on the floor with my little friend playing with trucks.  We started out with a Matchbox truck.  The truck was bigger than the doll that my friend was rolling the truck over.  I made a comment about how big the truck was.  Then I pulled out a truck that was bigger than the Matchbox truck.  I ran over his truck with the bigger truck. Before you clutch your pearls at my play skills, relax people.  He thought it was hilarious.  I let him know that my truck was bigger than his.  We drove around the floor for a while, and then I did it.  I pulled out my big blue tow truck.  The tow truck is the monster of all the vehicles that I have in my vehicle arsenal.  It is a big boy.  Not only is the size impressive but it also makes sounds when you press the buttons.  So, kids still get to use their imagination but there is a little razzle dazzle that pulls them in. My friend was elated.  He wanted to push that truck around and run over every other truck that was on the floor.  I let him have his way, and we talked about the fact that this truck was the biggest.  This truck was louder and took over all the other trucks.  They never stood a chance.  He started out with a truck that was so big in his mind, and the whole time, I was saving the biggest truck for last. As I sat on that floor, I had an epiphany about my life and the current state that I am in.  Child, I have been agitated and aggravated.  I have wasted so much time looking at my problems.  Literally trying to figure things out from every angle.  And it took time playing on the floor to see the bigger picture. The truth of the matter is that the situations that I fret about are out of my control.  But I have allowed them to become the big thing.  I have spent so much time dwelling on my issues that my focus has been fixed on the wrong point.  While my problems are big, my God is bigger.  Not only is He bigger, but He is actually the biggest.  And He has been here all along. Thank God for little boys that like to run over things with trucks.  It gave me peace of mind.  #wepreach

Jewelry is one of my things.  I mean…by now you know that I like razzle dazzle.  Putting together a cute outfit puts a smile on my face.  And jewelry is the final touch to any cute ensemble. Pre COVID-19, I did not leave my house without at least putting on earrings.  Even when going to work.  Scrub pants, t-shirt, and earrings completed my look.  Wearing a mask changed my stance on daily earrings.  They would get tangled in the loops of the mask.  Sometimes, I would snatch an earring off on accident when I snatched my mask off in the car after a long day.  My jewelry was just put to the side. On Saturday, I decided to jazz myself up.  I fixed my hair, put on real clothes, and looked to see what jewelry would compliment my attire.  When I opened my jewelry drawer, I was confronted with a huge mess.  My necklaces were all jumbled together in a massive ball.  I did not have time to untangle the mess.  Which really limited my options.  I had to choose a necklace that was already free and walk away from my mess.  I would sort through it another day. How did that happen???  Simple.  I was not careful with the things that I say are important to me.  At the end of the day, I would take my necklace off and throw it haphazardly into the drawer.  I would walk away without noticing where it landed.  I would go on with my life and attend to more pressing matters.  And I left a huge mess in my wake. Soooooo….now I get to sort through the mess that I made.  By now, you realize that I am not just talking about my jewelry.  I have not been as careful as I should be with my prayer time.  I have gotten back into the swing of busy life.  I throw up my prayer time.  I make sure it’s done, but I’m not careful with it. I know that I can work this out.  Part of having a strong relationship with the Lord is my daily communication with him.  I need to handle our time together with care.  Lord, help me to slow down.  Help me treasure my time with You. I am a work in progress.  Don’t mind me.  I will just be sitting here sorting through the mess I made.  #wepreach

Desperate.  Seeking.  Longing.  In need.  Those words perfectly describe the condition I am in right now.  The crazy thing is that I was unaware of just how desperate I am.  I’ve been off for the last couple of weeks and really tried to put my finger on it.  I rationalized some of my emotions, but there was still a tug.  A pull.  A feeling that I could not get a handle on.  Then I attended the Desperate for Jesus conference that was hosted by Oak Cliff Bible Fellowship virtually this weekend.  And I was finally able to name that mysterious feeling that had been permeating my life. Years ago, I attended this conference in the flesh.  Beth Moore was the speaker.  Bible Study Cousin and I eased on down the road to Dallas.  At this point, we had done several Beth Moore Bible studies.  We were excited to hear her speak in person.  As soon as we walked in the doors, we knew that we were in for a dynamic experience.  The whole place had a sweet spirit.  Smiling faces abounded.  I left the conference refreshed and renewed.  The same can be said for the experience that I had this past Saturday. I could go on and on about the conference.  I could tell you every person’s story, but instead, I’ll just tell you about one part that touched me.  The speaker was describing a difficult time in her life.  She was in a dark place and ready to give up.  She had a love for Jesus, but she was tired.  In her sadness, she wondered if this was really supposed to be a part of her story.  Surely, the kind and loving God that we serve did not mean for her struggle to be part of her story. Ultimately, she concluded that even the messy, ugly, unfair parts of her life were meant to be part of her story.  That God was a masterful author, and He was writing the story.  That all things, even the disheartening things, work together for the good of those that are called according to His purpose.  I needed this reminder because I am struggling with parts of my story.  And I did not even realize it until I heard her say that out loud. Let me just say that I am glad this was a virtual conference, because baby I was over here ugly crying.  Each speaker was able to tell their story with clarity and purpose.  They were able to remind me that I have a purpose.  I am valuable.  I am loved. While I write pieces of my story out daily, there are many parts that I do not share.  The hidden things that are reserved for me and God to talk about.  You know…the parts that I really want Him to revise.  For some reason, He does not take kindly to me wanting to edit His work.  He is not amused with my attempts take the pen out of His hand and jot out my thoughts on how the plot line of my story should evolve. See, I have been desperate for control of my story.  I have been desperate to feel that God hears my requests for rewrites.  And Saturday shifted my focus.  I must be desperate for Jesus.  #wepreach

The very first month that I moved to Houston a hurricane was forecast to hit the city.  Growing up in Arkansas had prepared me to survive tornadoes.  We go to the room that is the closest to the center of the house.  We run to our bathrooms and get in the tubs.  But I had no experience with a hurricane.  A completely different storm that I was not prepared to weather.  In that instance, I was able to return to safety.  Well, at least safety as I knew it.  I drove to Arkansas and watched others in Houston ride out the storm.  Usually, we have no clue when personal storms in life are on the horizon.  Our sunny day becomes inexplicably cloudy.  We do not have time to run and hide.  Sunday’s sermon gave us some practical ways to survive life’s storms. In Matthew 7:24-29, Jesus is at the close of His famous Sermon on the Mount.  The closing describes a parable of two men who are building houses.  One builds a house on sand and the other builds a house on rock.  When building is finished, after they have settled in their homes and become comfortable, a storm comes.  Not just any storm.  The rains pour from the sky.  The wind blows fiercely.  Floods come.  The house built on rock survives the storm while the house built on sands falls.  Not just any fall.  A great fall. Two men.  Two houses. One storm. Two different outcomes.  What made the man that built his house on rocks a storm survivor? Jesus explains the difference. Storm survivors hear what Jesus says and then they DO what Jesus says.  As someone who has been in church all my life, I can tell you that my physical body has been present in the church building at times while my mind was somewhere else.  I don’t care how good the sermon was or the choir.  I have had days where I didn’t hear or try to hear what was going on.  But then there were days that I was fully engaged.  I would wave my hand or say “Amen” in agreement.  I heard it all.  Said “Yes, Lord, Yes!” and walked out of the church doors and walked right back into whatever I declared that I wouldn’t.  I heard what Jesus was saying, but I didn’t do what He told me.  I was setting myself up for failure.  I was not preparing for the storm.  Surviving storms requires obedience.  Before a cloud ever comes on the horizon, we have to be committed to listen to what Jesus says and obey His commands. Storm survivors also don’t wait for the storm is approaching to get to work.  They build continually.  When the storm comes, they already have systems set in place.  Ya’ll one thing we know for sure is that storms are coming.  The easy days are not the days that we need to be relaxed.  Instead the good days are the days that we need to be reading the Word.  We need to be praying.  We need to be fasting.  The framework that will sustain us should already be established before the storm rears its ugly head.  Part of living our best life and blessed life is maintaining a committed relationship with God.  We need to cling to Him when things are going well.  This foundation will help our homes to stand when the winds and water beat against everything that we know to be true. Storm survivors are also aware of team that helps them build their house.  We were not created to do life alone.  We exist in community.  No one just magically comes to be on their own.  But we must be mindful of the folks that are picking up hammers and nails to help construct who we are.  Every subcontractor that comes to the job site does not have the same motives and intentions.  They may be scarred by previous experiences and exert too much force on you as they try to hammer their point in.  Or they may tear down load bearing walls.  Load bearing walls are essential to the health and strength of a home.  They take on weight that enables the house to stand.  An inexperienced subcontractor can come in and take down a wall that causes everything in you to crumble.  While we need community, we can’t survive if we are not discerning of those that we allow in. Storms are coming.  They are part of the human experience.  I’m prayerful that we are doing all that we can to prepare for them.  I was able to run away from a hurricane once, but I have weathered so many personal storms that I could not escape.  I sheltered in place and trusted that the Rock that I built my house upon would help me to survive the storm.  Build your homes on the Rock.  You will be glad you did.  #wepreach Questions to assess storm preparedness: How much time do you devote to God daily? What does your time with God look like? What attitude do you have when you are spending time with God? Are you a good subcontractor to those in your life? Do you add to their lives in a positive way or are you responsible for chipping away at load bearing walls? Decide on one positive change that you will implement this week.

Greetings from the beach!!!!  At least, that’s what today’s blog was supposed to say.  My cousin crew planned our first cousin-only beach vacation.  No kids allowed!  We were going to go buck wild.  (My version of buck wild is staying up after ten.  All my cousins’ versions of buck wild varies.  The point is…we were going to enjoy ourselves.)  We started paying for our trip in 2019.  Nothing could hold us back.  Then 2020 got here. When the outbreak of COVID-19 first occurred, we had a small talk.  Everyone was still on board.  At this point, I was gainfully employed.  There was no way that the virus that they were talking about would affect me or anyone that I knew.  Full speed ahead!  Then my job closed for two weeks.  I was freaking out and wondering how I would be able to catch up from the two-week closure.  I knew that I would bounce back, but I was not sure how long the bounce back would take me.  I was still going on my vacation.  I had four months to figure everything out. As the weeks of unemployment stacked up and the number of COVID-19 cases continued to increase, the vacation got the boot.  No fun in the sun for this cuzzo crew.  We were all devastated!!!  Still are.  This is the first year in a long time that I have not been on vacation.  If “work hard, play hard” was a person, it would be me.  Sign me up for a cruise.  I’m all in for a road trip.  Let’s stop and get an Icee.  But not this year.  Let me roll around on the floor and throw a fit for a second.  I promise it will only be a second.  Okay.  I’m back.  Let me think on some good things. We are all healthy and employed.  Clearly, we’ve been eating well because none of us are in danger of wasting away.  Most of us seem to be of sound mind.  Most of us.  I just turned my frown upside down.  Although my toes have not touched ocean water this year, I have many things to smile about. 2020 has not been anything that I imagined it would be.  I find comfort in the thought that my imagination was not big enough.  God’s plans far exceed and outshine anything that I could think of.  I’ll just put some sunblock on and sit in the sun.  Maybe I can dip my toes in someone’s kiddie pool.  #wepreach

Well, I know it’s been a minute since I reported, but we still reads the Bible over here.  You can reference the blog, “We READS the Bible” to hear about how this journey started.  I know I’m supposed to keep ya’ll informed of my journey throughout this Bible.  But can I be honest?  It has been a hard read. I have fully committed to this quest.  But the more I read, the more questions I have.  Every day I find myself with a growing stack of things I just don’t understand.  At one point, I said I must need to go to seminary to wade through this.  Then I quickly came to myself when I thought about papers and academic life.  I’m good on that.  I’ll keep the gate I got. The past month has had me wandering in the wilderness with the children of Israel for forty years.  Listen….I swear it feels like I’ve been out there with them for at least twenty of those forty years.  Baby, the book of Numbers almost had me making marks on my wall to pass the time.  Would they ever make it to the promised land? Spoiler alert: They are right outside the promised land when Numbers ends. Taking time to read the Bible for myself has shown just how much I don’t know.  You know I have been in church all of my life.  Regularly attended Sunday School.  And at 37 years old, I have come to realize that I must not have been paying attention.  I was half listening because there are whole facts that went right over my head. After my journey through Numbers, Deuteronomy was a welcome reprieve. Moses lived forever.  Not really, but it feels like that when there are so many books of the Bible that tell of his interactions with the children of Israel.  He actually lived to be one hundred and twenty years old.  I was surprised to find that he had sharp eyesight and a healthy body when died.  That’s what the Bible says.  Seems obeying the Lord pays off.  I’m not nearly as old as him.  I wear glasses and take a few extra seconds to go from a seated position on the floor to standing.  Note to myself:  Push back from the plate when the good Lord tells you to. The seasoned saints probably already know this, so it won’t be a big surprise.  But ummmm, I didn’t know that God buried Moses.  Now I have a few ideas about how I want my homegoing service to go.  I tossed out some suggestions to help those that are left behind.  But to be buried by God?!?!  You can’t have a bigger honor. So, I’m still reading.  By my calculations, I’m 22% of the way through the plan.  A vast territory awaits me.  The questions that have been stirred up in me let me know that when I finish reading it all the way through, I’ll have to start over again.  I need to develop a plan to really dig into each book.  I can’t say that the Bible is my guide for life when I don’t know what’s in it.  If I say that I believe the Word of God, I need to be very familiar with the Word of God.  No excuses.  Yup.  I still reads the Bible.  #wepreach

Don’t mind me. I’m just the girl that almost missed Wednesday night REfresh. I said ALMOST. Relax ya’ll. Wednesday’s panel was not about scripture and memorizing verses. St. Luke went beyond merely talking about racial injustice and inequality and hosted a panel to educate the church and community about absentee voting in the upcoming general election. Fun fact: I used an absentee ballot in 2008 to vote in the Presidential election. I was doing a travel assignment in Houston and was unable to travel back to Arkansas to vote. I wanted to make sure that my vote was counted. I forgot about that until I listened to the panel. Anywho…on to absentee voting. The panel was hosted by Attorney Latonya Austin Honorable. She was joined by Pulaski County Circuit and County Clerk, Terri Hollingsworth, and Pulaski County Election Commissioner, Joshua Price. If they couldn’t tell us about absentee voting, I don’t know who could. If you are not in Pulaski County, Arkansas, you can search for the circuit/county clerk in your area or the county election commissioner in your area for your own personal reference. I know…you have to put forth an effort. At least I pointed you in the right direction. Voter turn out is often poor when there is NOT a pandemic. COVID-19 numbers are skyrocketing in the state of Arkansas and throughout much of the nation. Absentee voting is one option for those who are steering away from the polls because of health concerns this fall. HOWEVER…absentee voting has guidelines that must be followed. First things first. You must be a registered voter. In the state of Arkansas, you can go to voterview.org to check your voter registration status. There you will find the current address that you are registered under. Make sure that your information is up to date. Being proactive will ensure that you have everything in order prior to election day. After making sure that you are a registered voter, you can contact your county clerk’s office for an absentee ballot application. There are numerous ways to submit your application. You can e-mail, fax, mail, or go to the office in person. Make sure all parts of the application are accurate. Use your legal name and most current address. This information may later prove to be invaluable if your ballot is contested. After your absentee ballot application is submitted, you can check with your county clerk to make sure that they received your information. When your ballot arrives, the ball is in your court. The state of Arkansas requires that you send in a photocopy of your identification along with your ballot. Honestly, absentee voting requires a true commitment. It requires follow-through. Whether you choose absentee voting or in-person voting at the polls, please choose to vote. Attorney Latonya Honorable shared that there will be a Rally of Restoration on the steps of the Circuit Courthouse on August, 6, 2020. Felons that have served their time are able to have their voting rights restored. The rally will assist those that need help restoring their rights. Important Dates in Pulaski County, Arkansas: Last day to register to vote for November 2020 Election: October 5, 2020 Early voting starts: October 19, 2020 Last day to apply for absentee ballot for November 2020 Election: October 27, 2020 General Election Day: November 3, 2020 Side note: I just feel like saying that these are your church announcements. Govern yourselves accordingly. #wepreach

Life with a cat.  Is different.  I was well versed in life with dogs.  My last dog, Fiona, was an absolute angel.  She really was the sweetest dog ever.  Incredibly chill and gentle natured.  She ran away when she saw Sweet Baby coming towards her because SHE KNEW.  Fiona just wasn’t a match for Sweet Baby’s hugs, kisses, and pats.  But this Fitz…this cat…He is something else. While I was quarantined, we were together constantly.  I was so naïve at the beginning of quarantine.  For some reason, I imagined a world where he would want my undivided attention.  I thought I would roll one of his many balls to him, and he would happily play with it.  I thought he would purr and meow sweetly while we watched television together. The truth of the matter is that he did his own thing.  He parked in his favorite spot by the front window and soaked up sun.  He slept A LOT!  To give him some variety, I opened the door to the guest bedroom.  Once that door opened, I rarely saw him.  He claimed the room as his own.  After hours of not seeing him, I would call his name.  You know, my dog would come running.  But this cat…I would have to go look for him.  He’d be sitting in the bedroom.  Side eyeing me. I don’t want to mislead you and make you think that he doesn’t ever interact with me.  He does.  If I get busy in the evenings and forget to put out his dinner, he reminds me.  I get his undivided attention then.  He wraps his paws around my ankles and begins to whine.  I would not believe it if I didn’t experience it so often.  I probably should set a reminder on my phone…LOL. He can be really sweet.  When my alarm goes off in the mornings, he jumps on me to make sure that I heard the alarm.  Isn’t that nice?  Then he head butts me so that I will rub him.  He purrs and purrs until I’ve done a good enough job.  Then he heads straight to his food bowl.  Because…you know…morning feeding time. Owning a cat was not something that I ever thought I would do, but I like it.  We’re both independent and enjoy food.  We appreciate silence after a long day.  He is a good cuddler, but he has to initiate it.  He runs away from forced together time.  I try to keep him on his toes and in good shape.  I mean…he has a job to do.  I adopted him so that he could find and exterminate any rodents that made their way into my home.   Check out my “Under Construction” blog for more info on that situation. All in all, we’re making our way around here.  Fitz is smart.  He runs and hides from Sweet Baby, too.  Her hugs, kisses, and pats have grown in strength as she has aged.  Fitz is alright with me.  Neither one of us expected the other, but we’re a perfect match.  My God shall supply all my needs.  And He knows exactly what I need.  #wepreach

After months of being at home, I am still adjusting to work again.  Before quarantine, I was accustomed to my schedule.  There was a place for everything, and everything had a place.  My weekend was packed full of activity.  I tried to prioritize, but I neglected one very important task.  I needed to go grocery shopping.  I had food at home, but I didn’t have the kind of food that I like to take for my lunch.  Generally, I like to take a healthier lunch so that I can finish my workday without being groggy.  My lunch was a cold coffee drink and some plums.  Both delicious, but they definitely left me wanting more.  As soon as I left work, I headed straight to the grocery store. Remember me talking about there being a place for everything and everything having a place?  That carries over into my grocery shopping.  I do not like to go in without a plan.  I think of the meals that I want to create for the week and write them all out.  Now, I don’t divide the groceries according to their location in the store.  Okay…I kind of do.  Don’t judge me.  I like efficiency. I entered with my list and got to work.  Veggies and fruits were first.  After struggling with opening the bags, I dropped my fresh produce into the cart.  Ooooooh….grapes.  They were not on my list, but they sure looked tasty.  I grabbed a bag and moved on.  Oh….look at those doughnuts.  I had to pass them on my way to grab my bread for sandwiches.  One small bag of doughnuts won’t hurt.  Into the cart they went.  You’re probably sensing a theme here.  I got everything on my list, AND some extras that I did not need.  But they looked so tasty.  And, I was hungry! After I wrestled my groceries from my car into the house, I began to unpack them.  I made a nice pile of my extras on the kitchen counter.  Ummmmm….I went way overboard.  While I was shopping, it did not seem like I was grabbing that many tasty treats.  I started out my trip to the grocery store with good intentions.  But my hunger led me astray. This really made me think about my spiritual life, and the decisions I make.  We were created for community, so we need relationships with people.  Sometimes, I let my hunger for companionship cloud my judgment.  So, I’ll pick any old relationship.  Not as a meal.  Just a snack to satisfy me until my real meal comes.  They look good.  They seem like alright people. Unfortunately, the tasty treats I’ve picked up along the way have weighed my bags down.  I struggle to pick up the bags and bring them into the house.  And when I do through the bags to put everything in their appropriate place, I find a stack of relationships that should never have made it into my house.  There is no room or space for them. Hmmmm…surely I’m not the only one who has gone shopping while they are hungry.  I can’t be.  Thank God for grace, and the opportunity to learn from our mistakes.  Before I invest in relationships, I need to be sure that I am full.  Full of wisdom.  Full of God’s word.  And fully aware of my worth.  I better eat up.  #wepreach

I saw by night, and behold, a man riding on a red horse, and it stood among the myrtle trees in the hollow; and behind him were horses: red, sorrel, and white. Zechariah 1:8 The valley.  Who wants to be there?  If we live long enough, we get to experience moments in the valley.  Some go through valley experiences more than others.  And the valley is not just reserved for Christians.  Saved and unsaved people spend time in low places.  Sunday’s sermon gave us insight on a vision of a valley and an angelic redeemer riding in on a red horse. Zechariah 1:8 recounts a vision that the prophet Zechariah experienced.  He was not asleep and dreaming a dream.  Nope.  The prophet was given a vision for the children of Israel.  His series of visions were a challenge for Israel to rebuild the temple and to repent to restore their relationship with God.  In this first vision, Zechariah sees a man riding on a red horse.  The rider is surveying the land.  He doesn’t just survey the mountains.  He takes time to go into the valley.  There may have been other trees in the valley, but the Bible doesn’t say that there are.  What the Bible does say is that there are myrtle trees in the valley.  And it also lets us know that the man stood among the myrtle trees. Hearing that report is not earth shattering if you don’t understand what each figure and color represents.  I can’t lie.  I heard the verse and wondered how this was supposed to encourage me or help me push on a little further.  Hang in there.  Pastor dug deep and unearthed the treasures that are contained in this verse. The myrtle trees in this verse are representative of the children of Israel.  Earlier, I talked about the children of Israel needing to repent to restore their relationship with God.  They also needed to get to work on rebuilding the physical temple.  Zechariah’s vision shows them just as they are.  They are in a valley.  A low place in their place in their relationship with God. The red horse is symbolic of war and bloodshed.  The angelic man on the horse is our Advocate.  He rides in ready for battle.  Ready to set wrongs right.  A redeemer.  Standing among the children of Israel.  In the valley. When I hear this, I get excited.  Yes Jesus!  Let me hop up on this horse behind you and ride right out of this valley.  I have spent enough time in a low place.  It’s time to be elevated!  Right?!?!  Wrong.  The Advocate doesn’t provide immediate relief.  He fights with the children of Israel. Hold up…we still have to fight???  In the valley?!?! Yes.  The myrtle trees can thrive on the mountain tops, but they also can thrive in the valley.  They can grow there.  They can become strong there.  The big question is how I am handling my valley experiences.  Am I growing in them or am I remaining the same? It’s fair to say that 2020 has provided unique challenges.  Everyone’s experience has not been the same.  Some have been unemployed while others are in desperate need of a break from work.  People have lost loved ones while some don’t even believe that COVID-19 is real.  Many scream that “Black Lives Matter” while others debate on the validity of the movement.  No matter what your experience has been, have you grown where you are? We serve a God that allows us to thrive while we’re on the mountain tops and in the valley low.  He’s there.  Advocating for us.  Our response is crucial.  We can weep, wail, and moan.  Or we can get to work alongside Him.  I am not a fool.  That is often easier said than done, but we DO have a choice in the matter.  Are you going to grow in this?  I am.  #wepreach Think of a challenging season in your life and answer these questions: What did your spiritual life look like at the time? How did you handle the challenges? Were you moody, upbeat, passive, defeated, etc.? Did you have a support system or were you handling it alone? Do you have a game plan on handling challenging seasons? If not, take time to think of practical steps that you can take in trying times.

Silence is a virtue.  Now that’s not in the Bible (at least I don’t think it is), and I haven’t heard it anywhere else.  But let me tell you…it is.  Although I don’t make it a habit to verbally go off on people, I generally have a comeback in my head.  I did not always keep my comebacks and slide remarks inside.  Years ago, I would tell you what to stuff and where you could stuff it. I come by my quick remarks honestly.  I have observed some masterful telling offs in my day.  Pick a person in my family.  Any person.  They have the same skill.  Some utilize the skill on a regular basis.  Others have reached the point where they can quiet that beast. Having quick comebacks is not wrong.  Comedians make their living being able to spin whatever is happening.  But try, though we might, we are not all comedians.  Sometimes, it pays to be silent. We have been studying wisdom in Christian Life Development.  Before you think I’m back in college, that’s what we call Sunday School at my church.  We really are talking about what it takes to have a fully developed Christian life.  Our class is a safe space to discuss struggles in our Christian walks.  It is also a safe place to ask the questions that you have wanted to ask.  Good questions are important, but it is equally important to listen to the answer.  Acquiring wisdom takes humility and sometimes silence.  When our lips are closed, our ears can hear.  I like silence.  I like to be alone with my thoughts.  Unfortunately, we live in a culture that pushes being loud and bold.  While there are so many moments that require us to speak up and speak out, there are also moments that would require us to listen and really hear what others are saying.  Here lately, I have been intentional about carving out time for silence.  Instead of instantly responding to others, I take a beat.  I use the silence to think things through.  You know I struggle with being impulsive at times.  My impulsivity has led me off the path, and I am ready to get back on track.  Time will tell if my closed mouth has been a wise decision.  #wepreach

Ya’ll are going to have to look over me.  I am in my feelings a tad bit.  Today was a long day.  Nothing outrageous happened.  Nothing over the line.  I just felt off.  Honestly, I felt unsatisfied.  Out of my element.  I felt discouraged.  I was over it. I decided to invite myself to Bible Study Mama’s house to watch TV.  You know she did not turn me away.  She actually sweetened the deal by making it a dinner date.  SCORE!  My ho-hum day was turning in a better direction.  We indulged in dinner and conversation.  I shared my feelings and felt better.  And of course, we watched a new TV show. My little dinner date was extended when a different new show popped up on the screen.  I had to stay.  They hooked me in the first five minutes.  Whoever edited the show is walking in their gifting.  I ended up staying an entire hour later.  It was black black dark by the time that I left her home.  But that show made me realize what was off about my day. I spent most of the day thinking about what was wrong with my life.  I ruminated over plans to make my life better.  To create a “do over.”  To begin again.  I was just discontent with the space that I am in spiritually, financially, physically, and emotionally.  I have such a strong urge to not miss out on the best parts of life that I neglect to see all the promises that God has fulfilled.  And not just promises that He has fulfilled for me but promises that He’s fulfilled for those that are close to me. And baby, when I started to think about the promises that He has fulfilled…I just about needed an usher.  You know I can’t usher myself.  I used to usher once a month out of obligation, but THAT’S NOT MY GIFT…I digress. Not too long ago, I celebrated a momentous occasion with a sweet friend.  I remember sitting with my friend in a Mexican restaurant crying together over nachos.  She didn’t feel like God was moving in her favor, and I was afraid He was not going to move in mine.  I am pretty positive that our waitress thought we were nuts.  But God moved in a mighty way in my friend’s life.  He answered her prayer and fulfilled His promise.  I looked at His answer for her and was reminded that He cares.  I had to pinch myself to remain calm.  No needed in embarrassing myself at her celebration.  I was reminded that He still performs miracles.  He still answers prayers. She is not the only one around me that has had promises fulfilled.  It keeps happening to everyone in my circle.  He’s in my area.  He’s on my pew.  I just have to trust and believe that all things work for the good of those who love the Lord and are called according to His purpose.  I have to love the Lord.  I have to be steadfast in my calling according to His purpose. In one year, I’ll look back on this blog and have so many victories to share.  I just have to be mindful that the word victory implies that I had a battle.  Nevertheless, I am coming out on top.  How do I know that?  God is faithful.  He continues to fulfill promises.  #wepreach

 When I sit down at my laptop to write the blog, I can get easily distracted.  In the middle of typing a sentence, I’ll think “I need to check my e-mail.”  That small foray will lead me down so many different rabbit holes.  It’s pretty ridiculous.  Like today.  I went from checking my e-mail to scrolling on Instagram. Instagram is all about capturing and sharing the perfect moment.  They give you so many different options for filtering.  With the right angles and filters, you can look like a million bucks.  You can have flawless skin, bigger lips, the best lashes.  The options are endless. During today’s rabbit hole moment, I stumbled upon a new page on Instagram.  There, a lady uses her platform to showcase photos of herself that are deemed Instagram worthy versus her reality.  She is a thin woman who has struggled with an eating disorder.  She spent years trying to fit the images that she saw in the media.  She tried to conform to the norm.  Finally, she came to the realization that her true self is enough. Now, I’m not really big on filters, but ya girl is big on angles.  I definitely have a side of my face that is more flattering if I have to take a picture from the side.  It works out beautifully when I take pictures with my bestie because her preferred side is the opposite of mine.  (We were meant to be…LOL)  I wouldn’t say that I’m trying to conform to the standards of the world, but I am acutely aware of my appearance.  I want to present myself in the best way possible. But I have had to check myself.  What does it say about me when I critique pictures but can’t critique the way that I present myself to God?  What does it say when I live life in a way that’s not always concerned about presenting my very best self to God?  I’m not an advocate for perfectionism, but I know that I can do better.  Sometimes in my efforts to push relationship with God, I neglect the fact that He is very holy.  While I can be open and honest with Him, I also need to remember that He doesn’t play.  I need to give Him the best. God created me so He knows who I am.  He is aware of all that He put in me.  The real me.  Not the image that I can filter for the world to see.  My true self.  One of the biggest struggles with this blog is letting you walk through my faith journey with me.  I miss the mark quite often.  So often that it’s enough to make me want to pull the plug.  But that’s not what God requires of me.  He wants my true self on display.  Uggggh….. Hopefully, by now you have seen that my life is short on the perfect moments.  When the filters are removed, I am just as raggedy as the next guy or gal.  In this space, I’m giving you my angle of my walk with Christ.  Yours will be different, and that’s fine.  I hope that my transparency helps you get in touch with your true self.  Whatever that may look like.  #wepreach

Seeing a baby take their first steps is a sweet experience.  If you are a softie, like me, it will make you emotional.  You will get a slight lump in your throat as you see the baby shakily place one foot in front of the other.  Sometimes they move very slowly in an attempt to keep their balance.  Other times, they move rapidly and fall head-first.  Depending on their temperament, some remain on the floor and cry.  They look for comfort from a trusted person.  Others will stand up and try it all over again.  No hugs or kisses needed. I won’t ever forget the time that one of my favorite little therapy baby’s started to walk.  Now mind you, he was walking before I was aware of it.  When I got him for therapy, I would pick him up and carry him to my office.  We would hang out on the floor.  We played.  We laughed.  Occasionally, he would scoot to get a desired toy.  No other signs that he was walking and ready to explore the world.  If he wanted something, he would point and vocalize but not make much of an effort to get it on his own.  I applauded his vocalizations and brought him everything that he wanted. One day, I was blowing bubbles.  These bubbles were tickling his fancy.  I’m a master bubble blower.  I can make them large or small.  I can blow out a ton of them at one time or just a select few.  One of the many perks of getting paid to play all day.  I blew out at large cloud of bubbles, and it was too good for this baby.  He got up like a grown man and walked around the room to clap bubbles between his hands.  Of course, I exclaimed, “YOU CAN WALK?!?!”  He immediately sat down and pretended like it had never happened.  He pointed and said “Pop!”  He wanted it to be business as usual. Too bad.  His cover was blown.  He walked back to class that day, and let me tell you, he WAS NOT happy about it.  He wanted me to hold him and cuddle him.  It was more work to get back on his own.  I encouraged him all the way back to class.  We still talked.  I was just holding his hand instead of carrying him.  He thought I was the meanest person on earth.  We made it to his class just fine.  I was proud of him for making the trek even though he protested the entire time.  As time went on, he stopped protesting during transitions when he had to walk.  Our new normal was established. I needed this reminder on this day.  I get so content when things are coasting along.  Even when I know that I can do more in my spiritual walk, I get complacent.  I just want to enjoy the easy fellowship with God.  I don’t want to walk if I don’t have to.  Then God takes me by the hand and begins to lead me.  No longer carrying and coddling me.  I complain and protest, but you know what? I make it to the destination every time.  And I’m better for it. I’m in a growing season.  A moving and shaking season.  It gets uncomfortable for me.  At no point has God taken His hand away from me, but let’s face it.  I’m spoiled.  He’s taken such good care of me, and yet I find myself afraid to go to the new places.  It’s time out for that for me.  I’m too old to still be sitting and playing.  I have to move.  Maybe it’s time for you to start walking too.  #wepreach

I just saw the most amazing video.  A 13-year old girl climbs a huge rock-climbing wall that ends up bending and curving over an Olympic sized pool.  She has no harness or safety equipment.  If she loses her grip, she falls into the water. She’s a tiny thing.  From my vantage point, she doesn’t have huge muscles in her arms.  If I didn’t see her climbing with my own eyes, I probably wouldn’t have guessed that she was that strong.  While climbing, she frequently dips one hand at a time into a small pouch that is tied around her waist.  At first, I thought she was shaking her hands out before she grabbed unto another rung.  On closer examination, I could see that the pouch contained chalk. I forgot to mention that this girl was not climbing alone.  She was actually in a competition against a grown woman.  The woman was taller and had won climbing competitions before.  The teenager was up against a fierce opponent. You may not know this, but I root for the underdog.  I’m a champion of those who are counted out.  Maybe because I’m often counted out.  So, I watched this video with my heart in my throat.  The teenager would chalk and chalk her hands as the woman climbed higher and further away from her.  The teenager would test her grip and push up.  Making progress.  But slow progress.  She was trailing farther behind. Many of the transitions to higher levels required extraordinary upper arm strength.  They required confidence.  They required determination.  The teenager chalked and maintained her focus as her opponent reached higher heights.  And then it happened.  As the woman reached one of the more difficult parts of the course, she fell into the pool.  The announcer told the teenager that she had one minute to reach her competitor’s highest point. At this point, I’m a bundle of nerves.  I mean I’m just watching the video in the comfort of my home.  She’s the one that’s actually going through it.  Will she be able to pull through and reach the summit?  She’s a tiny thing.  She’s come so far but has been able to progress at her own pace up until this point.  I’ll end your suspense.  She not only surpassed the woman’s highest point, but she actually made it to the top of the wall. I was so happy for her!  I’m not a fan of heights, so I instantly started looking for the ladder that was going to take her to the bottom.  The teenager closed up her sack.  The announcer said that it was now time for her to jump into the pool.  It was the only way to get down.  According to him, the jump has been difficult for her in the past.  Wait what?!?!  She has to jump down?????  Naw….this is too much.  She climbed down the wall until it began to curve.  Then she let go and fell into the pool. This video did something to me in case you can’t tell.  If you passed her on the street, you would not know the power that this teenager possesses.  But when placed in an environment that she has trained for, you can see her strength.  Christians need to be exhibiting that strength in our everyday lives.  We get our training at church, but our true power should be seen in the world.  The environment that we have been trained for. The world is our rock-climbing wall.  We can’t be distracted by other saints that seem to do it better or handle it with stride.  We keep our own pace.  We focus on our path.  I like to think of the chalk as the Word of God.  If we keep our hands in it, it helps reduce the possibility that we’ll slip.  Sometimes, we have to keep dipping before we can climb higher.  That’s okay.  The only climb we can complete is our own.  We’ll make it to the top saints.  Hopefully, we won’t have to jump into the pool.  If we do, I’m just going to have to ask Jesus to come see about me.  #wepreach

When you sit at my dining room table, you see the words “Blessed Are We…” on my wall.  Directly underneath those words are pictures of my family.  My picture wall is incomplete.  We need updated photos because the family has expanded since the pictures were taken.  Despite the challenges we’ve faced, I consider my family to be blessed.  We take lickings and keep on ticking.  We argue, but we remain committed to maintaining unity.  As I age, I have discovered that blessed means different things to different people.  Sunday’s sermon inspired me to think about what being blessed looks like. Psalms 1:1-3 begins with a list of things that a blessed person does not do.  These actions chronicle the path that leads to destruction.  Walking in the counsel of the ungodly turns a blessed man in the wrong direction.  It leads them away from godly pursuits and can cause them to stand in the path of sinners.  We’re all sinners saved by grace, but let’s be real.  It’s hard to live a godly life when you’re the ONLY one that has those beliefs.  Shoot, it’s hard to live a godly life when you are surrounded by believers.  Standing in the path of sinners can cause you to sit in the seat of the scornful.  That turn in the wrong direction has caused you to stop all forward motion.  Your once positive outlook is clouded by all the despair around you.  That doesn’t seem very blessed. The text moves from discussing the nots of a blessed person to discussing what a blessed person finds pleasure in.  It seems that a blessed person will find joy meditating in the law of the Lord.  They do not find joy in gossip or always being right.  Their pleasure doesn’t come from the latest and greatest soap opera.  The blessed person enjoys reading the scriptures and meditating on the word day and night.  If we don’t find pleasure in studying scriptures, we have to look at ourselves and our spiritual walk.  Listen, I’m the first one to admit that cracking open the Word is not always easy.  But I recognize that I need guidance.  Are we still shouting from the rooftops and our new cars that we’re blessed? Then we’re challenged to look at our position.  Where have we stationed ourselves?  Are we planted in the place that God would have us to be?  If we are studying the Word, we are in a prime position.  Our study creates rivers and streams in our life.  We are then able to see God provide in ways that we could not have even imagined.  He sends us help in unconventional ways.  We dare not move from our position.  The more I study, the more I realize that God is bigger than I could ever understand.  The more I study, the more I realize what it means to be blessed. So, are you blessed?  Not with material things.  We all know that godly and ungodly people have possessions.  You don’t have to be saved to have a nice house, a good job, or a fancy car.  Are you really blessed?  Do you walk in the counsel of the ungodly or even continue to nurture all the parts of your own life and character that are ungodly?  Do you meditate on God’s word and hide it in your heart or are you waiting to be fed like a baby?  Are you blessed?  Beyond church sayings, we are accountable for knowing God for ourselves.  That requires commitment and sacrifice.  Take some time to evaluate just how blessed you are.  #wepreach Questions to consider: What is your definition of blessed? What ungodly parts of your character need to be changed? Are you able to provide godly counsel to yourself and others? Is studying scripture important to you? If yes, how much time do you devote to study? If no, what do you use to guide you?

The thought of my dream home excites me.  Don’t get me wrong.  The home that I am currently living in is a dream for me.  It took a LOT for me to get in it.  The process was long.  And grueling.  So much so, that I just knew that I would not ever want to buy another home.  Enough time has passed that I’m over that.  But even if I was offered a bigger home, I would dread one thing….moving. When I worked for my travel therapy company, I would move every nine months.  I only took assignments in school districts.  That was enough time in one place for me.  One of the big detractors to taking more assignments was the moving.  It just was not my thing.  Since I moved so often, I had it down to a science.  My entire life fit into ten boxes.  If it didn’t fit into those boxes, I clearly didn’t need it.  As moving time approached, I would go through my apartment and declutter.  I would throw away all the things that I was holding on to that just weren’t needed.  I did not want to carry anything extra with me.  Those boxes got heavy quickly, and I knew that it was up to me and my free moving crew (my family) to move those boxes.  I was doing us all a favor. At this point in my life, I’m certain that God wants to move me to another level spiritually.  But in order to move, I need to go through my inventory.  I need to evaluate where I am in faith journey.  As I go through my inventory, I have to assess which parts need to come with me and which parts should remain behind.  Like, I need to pack up my peace and leave my discontent behind.  Patience most definitely needs to come.  While my judgmental tendencies can get thrown in the dumpster.  They’ll make the moving boxes heavier.  It will require more strength to get to the next place in my life if I’m lugging all the bad things along with me. When I was a teenager, I wanted to move into deeper intimacy with Christ.  I would pray to be closer to Him.  I would tell Him that He could test me and trust me.  I would tell Him that He could try me.  I was certain that I could make it through.  I….WAS….A….FOOL.  I did not truly realize what I was asking for.  My understanding of moving to the next level was limited.  I kept on living and saw for myself what new levels required. Honestly, it’s not that I despise moving.  I like the upgrades.  I just despise sorting through my belongings and letting go of items that I have deemed valuable.  I have a hard time letting go of items that really have carried me through.  As much as I know that I need to get rid of being judgmental, it feels safe and familiar to me.   Nevertheless, it is time to get my moving party started.  God is requiring more of me.  My preparation can make this move easier or harder on myself and everyone else around me.  Guess, I better get on it.  #wepreach

Technology has greatly advanced our ability to multi-task and get things done.  It has made many of our jobs more efficient.  In some cases, it has made people’s jobs obsolete.  This week, technology took me through some highs and lows, but I lived to tell the tale. I don’t often access my website from my phone.  I mean, I write it and publish it.  I know what’s on there.  But I wanted to quickly access a blog that I had written.  I pulled the website up on my phone, and to my surprise, there was no way to search for a specific blog. <insert shocked emoji>  Clearly, that meant that it was time for a website update. I’m not going to lie.  I avoid fooling with the technical side of biblestudygirl.com as much as I can.  Once I finally developed a system, I didn’t want to mess up the flow.  Now, I had three months to fool around look of the website.  I had three months to figure out creating pages and jazzing things up.  But noooooooo!  I had to wait until I had a full-time job that required me to be well rested.  So, per usual me, I jumped in with both feet to start this update. Well, it got hairy.  And by that, I mean I messed some stuff up.  LOL!  I can only laugh at myself.  Up at ten o’clock at night.  Huffing and puffing.  Occasionally screaming “WHY?!?!” at the top of my lungs.  Receiving disdainful side eyes from Fitz, my cat.  I’m talking a WHOLE hot mess.  I thought I had destroyed the entire site.  Yes, I had a backup, but the backup didn’t want to be utilized. I stepped back from the situation.  I made myself a late night snack.  I took some deep breaths.  I played a game.  Then I came back to the situation and realized just how much of an idiot that I was.  With a couple of clicks, everything was back working.  I was relieved.  And sleepy.  I went to bed so that I would be ready for work in the morning. Ya’ll this situation almost took me out.  I was so worked up.  I was actually livid.  I mean at times I thought about throwing my computer across the room, and my computer wasn’t the problem.  My attitude was.  You want to talk about meekness?  I like to think that there aren’t many issues that I can’t solve myself.  I like to think that I’m a knowledgeable girl, and even if I don’t know the answer, I know where to get it.  But you see where that lands me when it doesn’t go as I think it should?  In a state of anger.  Told ya’ll that I constantly have to check my attitude.  I have to always remind myself that I don’t know it all.  And that’s okay.  What’s not okay is being unaware of effective ways to handle my old sassy self.  I had sense enough to walk away.  Pray for clarity.  Message my tech support.  Admit my limitations.  Thankfully, the issue was resolved quickly.  However, I do realize that solutions to problems don’t always come rapidly.  And I need to work on maintaining my dignity while waiting on deliverance.  Even something as simple as updating a website can show you where you are in your walk.  Oh yeah, I’m totally not finished with the website, but at least it’s functional.  I’ll let you know when my behind the scenes work is completed.  Actually, you should notice the difference without me saying a word.  That’ll preach too, but I’ll leave it alone.  #wepreach

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. Matthew 5:5 Wednesday nights at REfresh Bible study have been very thought-provoking.  For the past three weeks, we’ve been taken to task about our attitudes.  No more pointing the finger at everyone else.  We have to get the Windex and clean off our mirrors.  It’s time to remove the smudges that cloud our ability to see ourselves.  Matthew 5:5 deals with meekness.  Being meek is not a natural attitude.  And I’m not just saying that.  I speak from experience.  Just in the past week, I have had two experiences that made me pause and check my attitude.  And to be quiet honest, the only reason I paused is because of Wednesday night Bible studies.  My attitude has been at the forefront of my mind.  I understand that the way I respond matters. Meekness is not weakness.  On the contrary, meekness is a grand display of strength and humility at the same time.  When people correct or chastise me, my initial reaction is to defend myself.  It takes an exorbitant amount of strength and humility to keep my mouth closed and listen to their critiques.   The reality of the situation is that I am not perfect.  Accepting constructive criticism from others while maintaining a meek disposition sets me up for an inheritance from God.  Although I don’t often clap back at people verbally, my facial expressions do all the talking for me.  I can’t tell you how often Bible Study Mama has told me to “fix my face.”  Even though my mouth never moved, you were intimately aware of my thoughts about your actions.  I literally just had a talk with my cousins on Sunday about facial expressions.  One cousin told another that they weren’t excused just because they no longer talked crazy.  Their face was telling the story on their behalf.  My family struggles with facial expressions.  Pray hard saints.  Meekness must be evident in my speech AND in my facial expressions.  That’s no easy task.  That is the reason that we need the Holy Spirit. The incredible thing about meekness is that it shows us where we are in our Christian journey.  We should not be push-overs, but we are also not always right.  I’m not even talking to ya’ll.  I’m talking to myself.  People that are puffed up and proud are hard to be around.  They are hard to build relationships with.  When I choose meekness instead of arrogance, I’m choosing Christ.  Christ in His perfection had every right to be boastful, but that’s not the attitude that He displayed.  We can be saints with attitude.  It just has to be the right attitude.  #wepreach

Fun Fact:  When I was in college, I worked at Payless ShoeSource.  Way back when they really were pay less.  As the years went on, their prices skyrocketed.  Payless went on to glory in May of 2019.  They filed for bankruptcy and shut their doors.  Truly the end of an era.  Instead of focusing on the end, my beginning with Payless deserves some attention.  This was going to be my first professional interview.  I put on my two-piece white church suit and sashayed to the back stock room for my interview with the manager.  Lord, help.  But I was clean though.  I don’t remember the questions.  I don’t remember how I felt.  All I know is, I got the job. Payless stores tended to be small.  That fact alone drew me in.  I’m a big girl.  I did not want to have to walk around tens of thousands of square feet.  I also dreaded the thought of being bombarded by tons of customers.  How many people really came into a shoe store?  I didn’t remember seeing overwhelming crowds.  These factors made me feel this was the perfect fit.  My first day or two came and went with no hiccups.  I spent much of my time in the stock room completing modules on the computer.  I learned about the history of the company and their ideals.  I sped read through much of it.  I was finished in no time.  I still had to master the cash register, but I was doing a-okay.  The next time that I returned to work, I completed my modules.  The assistant manager was going to start training me on the cash register, but first she wanted me to unload cargo in the stock room.  Listen, the stock room was my home, and I was not mad about it.  As I was unpacking shoes, I got the sensation that someone was watching me.  I turned around and a man was standing in the door.  I asked if he needed help.  He said no and returned to the sales floor.  I switched my position because I felt uneasy. My uneasiness was well founded.  Not even two minutes later the assistant manager ran into the stock room visibly shaken.  She said she had just been robbed at gun point.  I described the man that I had seen, and she confirmed my suspicions.  I went to lock the main door until the police arrived. The assistant manager transferred to a different store not long after.  She wasn’t ever comfortable in the store again.  The trauma was real and followed her.  You’re probably thinking that I quit.  I didn’t.  I worked there through the rest of the summer until college resumed that fall.  I still didn’t quit the company.  I just transferred to the store in Conway. I am grateful for God’s protection for both of us that day.  The story could have had an entirely different ending.  The Lord showed up for me in a very real way that day.  I had not thought of this in years.  I guess I just needed a reminder that God is faithful.  #wepreach

19.  Dance in the rain. I made a list of 37 experiences that I would like to have from May 2020 to May 2021 to celebrate my 37th year of life.  Some will not be fully accomplished until May of 2021, because they are year-long experiences.  I am slowly chipping away at the list.  A priceless memory was created this past Saturday. Saturday morning was beautiful.  The sun was shining.  Birds were chirping.  And Bible Study Mama called me four times on her way to my house to keep me informed of her every move.  Why was she coming to get me?  A moving crew was needed to help my cousin move.  We lifted.  We arranged.  We fit furniture into the U-Haul like a life-sized Tetris game.  All was well. We arrived at the new place and began the process of unloading.  Things were clicking along at a good pace.  On one of my trips to the U-Haul, I noticed that the clouds above the trees seemed to be rather dark.  We were almost finished, so I picked up the pace just the tiniest bit.  Okay, I’m lying.  I didn’t move any faster.  At this point, I was just doing the best that I could.  The couch would not fit in the front door.  The fellas were at an impasse.  I ran to get my handy dandy power tool to unscrew the legs of the couch.  As I was attempting to remove the legs of the couch, rain began to fall.  I did not let the rain deter me…well at least not at first.  The rain wasn’t that heavy.  Steady…but not too bad.  Then, the skies really opened up.  Everyone screamed for me to abort my mission. While we stood in the carport looking heavy rain, I remembered number 19 on my list.  We couldn’t do any more moving at this point.  I was already rather wet. Why not knock a number off my list?  Nobody told me I was a weirdo (although I know I am to some folks).  Actually, some of them thought it was a grand idea. They joined in on the fun. I wasn’t alone. We took our socks and shoes off and danced in the rain.  Well, it was more like shuffling and twirling with mouth beat boxing for music.  On the smoother side of the driveway.  Because my feet are tough, but not as tough as I thought they were.  I had not played in the rain since I was a kid.  Grown woman with natural hair dancing in the rain versus kid dancing in the rain was different.  The number one difference was that I think I’m heavy handed on the products for my hair.  I tasted all the greases and oils that I’ve slathered on.  I was due for a washing, so nature moved my wash day up in priority.   I laughed.  I got much cooler.  It was a perfect break from a long day’s work. If I had not made my 37 for 37 list, I don’t know if my mind would have thought to dance in the rain this past Saturday.  I probably would have just laid on the floor and caught my breath.  And I would have missed out on a moment that I can look back on fondly for many years to come.  I have reached a point in my life that I do not just see God in the scriptures or just on Sunday mornings.  He does not just exist for me during Sunday School or during discussions about my faith. He exists for me in all my moments.  Great and small.  I need days like Saturday to balance out the days that do not turn out as well.  God is up to something in my life.  It is no coincidence that I danced in the rain on Saturday and on the very next day the sermon topic was “What Makes You Dance?”  Find your reason to dance and then get to two-stepping.  #wepreach

And David danced before the Lord with all his might, and David was girded with a linen ephod. II Samuel 6:14 What makes you dance?  Do you snap your fingers when your favorite song comes on?  Do you automatically move when the beat drops?  Can you dance when no music plays?  Are you a swayer or a toe-tapper?  Do you dance until you sweat, or do you barely move?  Sunday’s sermon finds King David dancing with all his might.  Let’s talk about the events that made him dance. The ark of the covenant is not in it’s rightful place.  The ark of the covenant represents the very presence of God, and it is not where it’s supposed to be.  Ummmm, did I mention that the ark is not in the proper location? David begins the process of transporting the ark back to Jerusalem.  God had provided very specific instructions about the way that the ark should be transported.  Traditionally, the ark was carried on poles that were placed through rings on the ark.  Levites were responsible for transporting the ark.  No one else.  There was a procedure in place that honored God’s holiness.  But David, much like us, had a different plan. The ark was placed on a new cart, and the journey to Jerusalem began.  Sounds like a great plan.  Until the ark shifts because of the oxen that are pulling this new cart.  Uzza reached out to steady the ark and…he dies.  Not because of an accidental fall. He died because he touched the ark.  Even though, he was trying to do a helpful thing.  Uzza’s error cost him his life. Uzza’s death hits David in a major way.  His journey to return the ark to its rightful place is paused.  He places the ark in the home of Obed-edom.  David returns to what is familiar to him.  For three months, the ark remains in the home of Obed-edom.  And for three months Obed-edom, and his family, were blessed because the ark of the covenant, the very presence of God, was reigning in their household. The news of Obed-edom’s blessings reach David.  David decides to complete the journey.  He wants to return the ark to Jerusalem.  However, this time, he does not employ a new cart.  He transports the ark the way that God originally instructed him to transport the ark.  Then, David begins to dance with all his might. Why did he dance?  I can think of several reasons.  David knew that God was holy.  He was reminded of God’s holiness when Uzza touched the ark and died.  That very well could have been David.  But it wasn’t.  So, he danced.  God blessed Obed-edom’s house the entire time that the ark was in his home.  That let David know that not only was God still holy, but God was still in the blessing business.  So, he danced.  He danced because God was worthy of all worship and honor.  He danced because God was worthy of all praise. What makes you dance?  Is it the melody in a song?  Do you dance because others are watching?  Do you not dance because others are watching? When I think of how well God takes care of me, my feet get light.  I dance a new dance.  My prayer is that your relationship with Christ continues to give you reasons to dance.  #wepreach Questions to think about while you perfect your holy two-step: Do you realize when God’s presence is no longer around you? If yes, what you do to restore His presence? Is God holy or a hobby in your life? What truly makes you dance?

Have you ever felt a pull to do something that was outside of your comfort zone?  Maybe it was a call from God or maybe it was just a fleeting thought that you had.  You weighed out your options and decided that it probably was the Lord.  So, you stepped out on it.  You fully embraced what you felt God called you to do.  How did that work out for you? I’m asking for myself.  Within the last nine months, I have been fully outside of the box that I placed myself in.  Before you hate on my box, let me tell you.  I was fully comfortable in that box.  My box had central heat and air.  My box had all kinds of amenities.  My friends were welcome to come into the box from time to time.  Occasionally, I would peek outside of my box and see that there was nothing outside of said box for me to enjoy.  Until one day… God gave me an invitation to step outside of my carefully constructed and guarded box.  He wanted to take me on a journey.  Now ya’ll know that I ask all the questions.  I was fully armed and fired away questions in a rapid succession.  He answered my questions with a question of His own, “Do you trust me?” In full disclosure, my answer was “I want to trust You.  I’m scared.  I need to know what’s going to happen to me if I do this.”  My answer is probably not popular, but it’s my true answer.  I couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to be in control.  Even though I recognize that I have absolutely no control, I still wanted to feel like I did.  It’s not logical, but don’t judge me.  Judge your mama. I stepped out of the box and begin to pour my feelings about my faith into this blog.  Every day.  I made a commitment to honor what I felt God called me to do.  In many ways, this has gotten much easier with time.  Easy in the sense that I know it’s what I’m supposed to be doing.  There is a certainty in that.  Every day.  I sit in front of my computer.  I pray.  I ask God for direction.  He makes it happen. On the flip side, it has gotten harder as time passes.  Because every day, I sit in front of my computer.  I pray.  I ask God for direction.  He makes it happen.  In His time.  That last part is the kicker.  The wait.  The trust.  The belief that this is actually what He wants of me. Did I mention before that my box was comfortable?  There is a whole world of people outside of my box that I would not have had the opportunity to get to know.  Stepping outside my comfortable box opened doors that I did not even know were closed on the inside of me.  Stepping outside of my box has granted me true freedom. If you feel a pull or tug from the Holy Spirit, this is your confirmation that you need to just do it.  While I was snuggled in the four walls of my box, I was missing out on my destiny.  Being outside of my comfort zone has been challenging at times, but I would not trade it for the woman that I was before.  My time with this blog and with other people of faith is moving me closer to the woman that God created me to be. Take the step.  Do that one thing.  God will lead you the rest of the way.  #wepreach

As I was typing the other day, I heard the weirdest noise.  I looked to see where Fitz, my cat, was.  He was running full speed up and down the hallway.  So, yes, he was making noise, but he wasn’t the source of the noise that I heard.  Then I stared down my refrigerator.  Could it be coming from there?  Then I heard a familiar fizzle.  My neighbors directly behind my house were popping fancy fireworks. Actually, the neighborhood has been popping fireworks for the past two weeks.  One neighbor set off a spectacular display one night in the front yard.  I heard all the rapid-fire popping and just knew a drive by was going down.  Nope.  Just my new neighbors making their house a home, I guess. I have stated before that I don’t watch horror movies because they are too scary.  Though I’m a fan of dramatic moments, the dramatic and suspenseful music in horror movies puts me on edge.  I immediately put my fingers in my ears when the music in a movie takes on a creepy edge.  It’s the quickest line of defense to drown out unwanted sound.  So, I suppose that I’m really just not a fan of sounds that are scary. Lately I have come to realize that I need to keep that same energy when it comes to guarding my spirit.  I’m quick to guard myself against villains on the screen but more lax when it comes to protecting myself against the very real mighty powers in this dark world.  The forces that tell me that I don’t matter.  The powers that would have me to believe that I don’t have anything good to contribute to humanity. Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.  That means I need to keep a Word in my ear that will see me through this life.  But more specifically for me personally, it means that I need to be more mindful of the information that I take in.  Just being honest here.  I have lowered my standards and sounds that should frighten me don’t frighten me anymore.  I have become accustomed to dramatic music and suspenseful moments. Like I often say, I’m a work in progress.  I will be intentional about guarding my spirit.  Although there are wicked powers in the world, they pale in comparison to the mighty power of my God.  He speaks with authority and power.  I just have to be willing to listen.  #wepreach

Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4 My Wednesdays have been different since COVID-19 hit our area.  In the olden days, I would be rushing and running from work to home, and then off to church.  Now, I’m sashaying to my couch to get the best seat.  I wait for the notification that St. Luke has gone live on Facebook and then I join the broadcast on Facebook Watch on my TV.  I pull my Bible app up on my phone and get ready to take notes.  Ummm…it’s called Bible STUDY, so I feel weird if I don’t take notes.  My regular Wednesday night date with REfresh Bible study doesn’t disappoint. Last week, we began to study Matthew 5.  We dipped our toes into the water of the Beatitudes.  Our thoughts on attitude were challenged.  This week continued the study and called into question our ability to go deeper.  Pastor discussed that the Beatitudes is not just a collection of nice attributes that we should possess.  In actuality, each principle is a stepping-stone for the next.  After we become poor in spirit, we move to mourning. I know, I know.  When I think of “blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted,” it’s always in the context of losing a loved one.  But thinking of this as the next stepping-stone was eye opening.  Being poor in spirit means that we realize that we are nothing without God.  We are totally dependent on Him.  When we look at ourselves, I mean really look at ourselves, mourning should be our next response. If you’re anything like me, you will miss the mark.  You don’t get it right every time.  We are filthy rags living in a filthy world.  Horrible things happen to us and our loved ones.  Horrible things happen around us.  Suffering happens to us all.  Whether it’s a consequence of wrong actions or even suffering that occurs from following the will of God.  And that will make you sad.  That will make you disheartened.  It will make you mourn.  What does mourning do to you?  How does it affect your attitude?  How does it affect your behavior?  After all, we’re still discussing our attitudes. Let’s be real.  Going through trials and tribulations can leave us with horrible dispositions.  We can become constant complainers.  We can be rude to others.  It can also cause us to become frustrated with God.  We might lose heart and not even feel like staying in the fight.  Or you may have matured to the point that you can fake it for the crowds and be miserable at home.  That is not a real victory. Pastor posed the thought that we should mourn with dignity.  Yes, we face obstacles that bring us to our knees.  Sometimes literally.  It should also bring us to our knees spiritually.  And make us turn our faces to God.  When we mourn, God comforts us.  He cares for us.  He dispenses His grace and mercy on us. Mourning with dignity really requires us to trust in God.  That’s a very churchy way to say that we have to do some work.  It’s much harder to respond to suffering with dignity when you have nothing internally to draw from.  Daily devotional time is necessary.  Some benefit from writing out meditations.  It may be helpful to have Biblical promises displayed in your home or at your workstation.  We have to arm ourselves to win.  God will honor the time that we spend with Him. Not only do I have a date with Wednesday nights, but I also have a date with dignity.  #wepreach

Obtaining my Master’s degree was hard work.  I remember going to Bible study one Wednesday while I was in graduate school.  My pastor made a statement that stuck with me.  I held on to it for the rest of graduate school.  Really, I reflect on it often when times get tough.  Now that I’ve created some anticipation, are you ready for what he said?  He said something to the effect that it’s easier to endure a trial when there is a set end.  I grabbed that and held on to it because there was a set end for my time at school.  The requirements to obtain my degree were clearly laid out.  Once I met all the requirements, they would put my hood on over my gown and hand me my diploma. Lord knows that I was ready for school to be finished.  I had many long days that transitioned into longer nights.  I worked and learned during clinical rotations.  I attended classes.  I wrote papers.  I let my creative juices fly and made therapy materials from scratch.  I fell asleep during study groups while giving my answers.  I worked and worked until that degree was in my hand.  I made it to the end. The quote haunts me when I don’t know the end date of my trial.  Most often, I find that the difficult parts of my journey fall into this category.  I encounter an obstacle.  Something that’s bigger than me.  And it’s right in the middle of my path.  I was going along just fine, and it drops out of the sky like a Whomp from Mario Party.  It almost crushes me.  ALMOST.  And although I’m still alive, I’m unsure of how to proceed. God always provides, but I can’t lie.  I get frustrated.  I get confused.  Sometimes, I get angry.  Or, I try to figure it out on my own.  I’ll develop fifteen different plans and begin to implement each one.  I’m stubborn and get offended when things don’t line up the way that I think they should.  I haven’t reached the point in my journey that I can count it all joy instantly.  While I’m much better than I used to be, I’m still a work in progress.  I’m still being changed in this process of life. My trials and tribulations have helped me develop a real prayer life.  When you don’t know how long you’ll be going through, it’ll make you real humble.  It has made me bow my head.  It has made me surrender my thoughts and ideas and place them into God hands.  Don’t get me wrong.  While I’m praying, I will ask “How long Lord?”  Because I’m human.  He may not answer that question for me, but He constantly sends me reassurance that, no matter how long, He’s right there with me.  #wepreach

My dolls are a mess!  While looking through the toys that I had at my office, I had to have a come to Jesus meeting with my dolls.  We have been together for the last four years – give or a take a few years for the newest members of the collection.  When my move to a new facility was imminent, I decided to try to create order of the chaos that was my toy inventory.  My dolls moved to the top of my priority list. I’m all about categorization.  There is a place for everything, and everything has a place.  The primary home for my dolls was in a basket with lots of vehicles.  Fire trucks, cars, tow trucks.  You get the picture.  Why did they live in the basket with the vehicles?  Good question.  I needed more baskets and never got around to it.  And my kids adapted to my mixed basket.  When it was time to clean up, they automatically placed the dolls in the basket with the vehicles.  The illogical had become logical to them. Needless to say, there were several issues with this system.  One is that my dolls took a beating.  While girls would play with the vehicles, boys requested play with the vehicles more frequently.  Do you think those sweet little boys lovingly placed the dolls to the side?  Absolutely not.  Quite often they threw the dolls out of the basket as quickly as they could to get to what they really desired.  Those little dolls got banged up and dirty. Being in the same basket with the vehicles also did a number on their hair.  Gone were the sleek strands.  In their place is a matted mess that is impossible to comb through.  Over time, their hair was been caught in wheels and slammed in car doors.  My little friends would rip the dolls away from any vehicle.  Sometimes the ripping ripped their little hair as well.  I Googled ways to restore a doll’s hair, and it is possible.  But it takes lots of time and careful attention. What if I had put the dolls in their proper place when I first obtained them?  Inevitably they would have experienced wear and tear.  That’s just part of being a toy.  But I’m quite sure that they wouldn’t be as battered.  They would not be as abused.  They wouldn’t be such a mess. What a powerful reminder to me that I need to stay in my place.  I need to be exactly where God called me to be.  I need to be doing the work that He called me to do.  Being in someone else’s basket can really cause me to be beat up.  It will do a number on me.  I can’t get mad at people who toss me to the side when I’m in the wrong place.  They didn’t come there looking for me.  They knew exactly what they wanted, and I wasn’t it.  However, I can get mad at myself for not checking my surroundings.  I can be mad at myself for not recognizing who I am and my purpose.  Just because others have adapted to me being out of position doesn’t mean that I should. My poor dolls.  I’m almost embarrassed to let them out of my house.  And at the same time, I’m reluctant to do the work to get them into better shape.  Much like my own life.  (Let’s not talk about my healthy lifestyle journey….at least not today.)  It’s necessary.  But not convenient.  Important.  But often placed at the bottom of the list. Thankfully, my dolls have their own basket now.  They still look like what they’ve been through.  I just decided to put in the work to get them as close to their original condition as possible.  They don’t have to be perfect, but I know they can be better.  So can I.  #wepreach

God is up to something special.  I can feel it in the atmosphere.  Things are different.  A change is on the horizon.  Although I often feel that I don’t have enough or that I’m not enough, God is constantly telling me something different.  Before 2019, I don’t ever remember hearing about Jael.  She’s a notable woman in the Bible, but if you’re reading straight through, just for reading’s sake, you’re likely to skip over her.  There aren’t many verses that tell her story.  She doesn’t have much, but she has just enough to win. Sunday’s sermon came from Judges 4:14-24.  We’re introduced to the prophetess Deborah.  She is speaking to Barak.  Barak is a military commander that has been commissioned by God to lead an army of ten thousand in battle against the Canaanites.  The children of Israel are at war with Canaan.  They are engaging in ongoing battles with Sisera, the leader of the Canaanite army.  When these verses start. Deborah is reminding Barak that he has been called into battle. Although Barak has been called to war with an army of ten thousand men on his side, he has a request.  He doesn’t want to go into battle without Deborah by his side.  In my mind, the size of his army alone should be enough to make him ready for battle.  But he’s not working with my mind.  He’s working with his.  And he believes that having the prophetess on his side will be more than enough to win the battle.  Deborah consents and goes with him. The battle is going well.  It’s going so well that Sisera’s army takes a savage beating.  While many leaders are committed to going down with the ship, that is NOT Sisera’s motto.  He abandons the fight and runs to neutral territory.  There he finds himself at the tent of Jael.  Jael assures Sisera that he has nothing to fear.  Sisera accepts a drink from Jael.  He is comfortable.  After all, this is neutral ground.  He falls asleep.  Jael takes a tent peg and her hammer and drives it through Sisera’s temple while he sleeps.  He never saw it coming.  Canaan is defeated with a tent peg and hammer. It’s worth noting that this is not the end that Sisera saw for himself.  He has been fighting men with swords.  He’s been racing around in chariots.  Jael’s tent seemed like a welcome refuge after a raging war.  But on that day, Jael decided that being neutral was no longer an option.  Evil showed up at her tent.  She decided to be on the side of right.  And although she didn’t have a sword or fancy chariots, she believed that she had enough to win.  And she was right. In less than a year, I have heard Jael’s story three times from three different people.  That is not a coincidence or happenstance.  I’m convinced that God wants me to know that the little that I have is more than enough to win.  And that is not prophecy for a future time.  It’s revelation for this very moment.  I have enough to win RIGHT NOW.  I believe He wants you to know the same thing. Pastor said that we “settle for the suitable when God prepared the supernatural.”  I dare you to trust God with every part of yourself.  He’s a God of miracles, signs, and wonders.  Things that we consider to be insignificant become life-changing when we place them in His hands.  They become more than enough to win.  #wepreach Questions to Ponder: How can your occupation be used to glorify God? What skills do you have? Do you find yourself thinking that your skill set is not impressive? Do you struggle with thinking that you are not enough? Be intentional about being a blessing to someone else this week. Buy someone a coffee, send a nice text, or leave an anonymous positive message for someone. The choice is yours. That small token could be just enough to make someone feel like a winner.

Bible Study Mama holds fast to the claim that she prefers comedies over romance when forced to pick a movie genre.  Here lately, I have made it my mission to test her theory out.  She came to my house bearing the gift of dinner on Friday.  What’s better than dinner and a movie?  I put on a comedy to see if her stance remained firm. She stayed after the movie and did not seem to have any intention of leaving.  The night was still young.  I knew she wouldn’t spend the night, because she is NOT a fan of my cat, Fitz.  As I scrolled through our options of entertainment, she asked me about a show called “The Floor is Lava.”  I had never seen it.  I pressed play, and our comedy night kicked up a notch. Watching this show with my mom made me realize exactly where I get my goofiness and extraness (I made up the word…deal with it).  We both oohed and aahed rather loudly at the contestants.  I think it’s safe to say that this is our version of watching football. I know kids have played “the floor is lava” at home.  You pretend that the floor is lava.  If you touch the floor, you are automatically out of the game.  Well, some kids have played it.  Probably the new generation.  My mama would not have taken too kindly to me running on her furniture because the floor was lava.  Some creative mastermind took this childhood game and made it into a hilarious competition between adults. In the adult version, teams of three try to get from the entrance to the exit of the room in the fastest time possible.  You really have to use every part of yourself to make it to the other side of the room.  The game engages you physically and mentally.  The room is filled with hot water or “lava.”  If you fall in, you’re out of the game, but your teammates can still try to go on without you.  Unfortunately, sometimes you actually need teammates to successfully navigate through the course. It was interesting to see how different teams tackled the exact same course.  All objects in the room can be used.  There is nothing off limits.  Some teams would look at objects in the room and use them all.  Other teams would leap and jump in a frenzy to make it out in the fastest time.  The presumed leader of one team watched one of their “weak” links bound from one shaky rock to the next.  He admitted that he was scared and would let his teammate lead the way since he was doing so well. A very family friendly show.  It’s not only hilarious but really made me think about life in general.  How I leap and bound from one shaky rock to the next in my rush to get to a desired end.  The encouragement and warnings that I get from teammates as I want to make my next move.  Whether it’s a big leap or small.  Watching others leap and fall and learning from their mistakes.  Or watching them leap and fall and thinking that won’t happen to me. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t analyze the mess out of everything.  Even simple things.  Plus, let’s be honest.  You enjoy reading about how my mind twists and turns.  This is stream of consciousness at it’s finest.  The show reminded me to be a better teammate.  And use all of the resources available to me.  In my rush to get ahead, I miss out on opportunities that will make this journey easier.  I gotta be more careful.  Falling into hot lava is not a good look.  #wepreach

2020 has been a strange year.  I can’t think of any other way to describe it.  God has humbled me and changed me in ways that I could not have predicted.  Change has been all around me.  Sometimes, it’s hard to catch my breath. While sitting at home during my job’s shutdown, I was feverishly looking for a job.  I perused employment websites looking for a position.  Any position.  Through that time, the good Lord kept me.  He sent the right people to me.  He used them to bless me financially to keep me afloat.  I never went hungry or had utilities turned off.  Although I love to float in the pool, this floating was uncomfortable for me.  Yes, I was well taken care of but unsettled.  I learned, really, truly learned, that all of my help comes from God. On June 1, I was elated to go back to work.  Understandably, many parents were reluctant to send their children to school.  COVID-19 has taken many lives.  It’s an unseen enemy that can be transmitted silently by well-intentioned people.  The decrease in my caseload stressed me out.  I continued my job search.  One day, a random job popped up.  I quickly submitted my application.  A couple of days later, I was called in for an interview. My first thought was that I needed to do a practice interview with my cousin.  She is a self-proclaimed professional interviewer.  She hits them hard and strong.  Her claim to fame is confidence in her ability to sell herself.  She prides herself in answering questions that they didn’t ask.  I needed some of that razzle dazzle.  But, I let time slip away and missed out on my opportunity for one-on-one coaching. The day of the interview arrived, and I was ushered into a room with a table and four chairs.  I sat in a chair.  The woman from Human Resources said the others would be joining us shortly.  <Insert record screech sound>  OTHERS?!?!  Let me just tell ya’ll.  Thank God for face masks.  I know my jaw dropped.  I sent a prayer up to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  I needed ALL of them in that room with me.  I got it through.  I got the job. And although searching for and obtaining a new job was difficult, the hardest part was yet to come.  The new beginnings.  I’m an introvert by nature.  I push and stretch myself to be more outgoing.  My profession demands it.  I was comfortable in my job.  I was comfortable with the people that I knew.  I was comfortable with my office and my kids.  But I knew it was time for a new beginning. Yesterday was my last day at my old job.  And Monday is the horizon.  It’s a fresh start.  Another change in a life-changing year.  God is asking me to trust Him and the journey.  Every day, I make the choice to lean into Him more.  I make the choice to be uncomfortable.  I make the choice for new beginnings.  #wepreach

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God. Matthew 5:3 Another Wednesday has come and gone. So, you know what that means, right? I get the opportunity to share with you my big take-aways from the REfresh Bible study. Of course, I never cover it all. I just take time to recount the fragments that spoke to me. I tell you the pieces that I’m going to take with me and mull over as the week goes on. You could always tune in on Wednesday nights yourself to find the pieces that fit into the holes of your life. Enough chitter chat. Let’s discuss the study. When I was a kid, the youth group at church performed a play about the beatitudes. I don’t remember much of the play, but I do remember that we learned lots of songs about the beatitudes. Wednesday night’s study took us to Matthew 5. Here Jesus begins his famous Sermon on the Mount. The first eight statements that He makes comprise the beatitudes. Why are they called beatitudes? Each statement begins with “blessed”. Beatitude means “happy,” “blessed.” Pastor started off the night asking us to reflect on the holiness of our attitudes on a scale of 1 to 10. Just an average. A moment of self-reflection. I thought on it and came to the conclusion that I’m at a six. Could be far worse. Could be far better. Listen ya’ll. I’m a work in progress. We got right into the very first beatitude that discusses the proper attitude, but I never reflected on it in this way. “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” Poor in spirit means that I’m lacking something. What am I lacking? Pastor broke it down. That means I’m lacking confidence in an area. That means that I feel inadequate. But wait a minute. Did Jesus say that people that feel inadequate are blessed? That’s what it says, and it threw me for a loop. Baby according to this scripture then I’m blessed on top of blessed. And I needed this word tonight. Feeling inadequate??? I’m a professional at that. I constantly feel out of my league and out of place. Sitting and writing this blog takes everything out of me and then some. It keeps me in prayer and seeking His face. Bible study confirmed that that is where God wants me. In my weakness, I realize that God alone is strong. And I’m blessed because of who He is. Not because of me. An attitude of inadequacy is counter-cultural. In the world, you have to be the best. Know the best. Do the best. At all times. It’s the only way to win. But when we counter that attitude with Jesus’ words, we are forced to make a course correction. It is when we admit that we need Jesus that we truly cultivate the correct attitude. The proud and adequate people don’t have a need for God. They have it all themselves. Recognizing our need for God and having a poor spirit will grant us access to the kingdom of heaven. That’s why I keep myself engaged in Christian community. It challenges what I thought I knew of scripture. It makes me dig deeper and look more intently at scriptures that I have a tendency to glaze over. My attitude needs work, and I’m sure that I’m not alone. Blessed are we…#wepreach

Although I haven’t mentioned Fitz, my cat, in a while, don’t worry.  He’s still here.  Not only is he now an official adult at one year old, but we have also officially been roommates for a year.  He has matured from a teeny, tiny little kitten into a hefty, plump, and rotund cat.  With all the changes going on in the world and with me personally, I forgot that it was time for his annual shots.  The vet sent a friendly e-mail reminder and a postcard.  I called and scheduled his appointment.  Then my prep work had to begin. I heard horror stories from other cat owners about vet time before I ever adopted a cat.  One owner said that the cat hides under the bed every time the carrier comes out.  The cat knows the carrier means doctor.  Doctor means shots, and the cat is not going.  With that in mind, I started early with minimizing anxiety around the carrier.  The carrier sits on the floor in the closet year-round.  Fitz can freely jump in and out of it.  Sometimes, he naps in it.  Other times, he just pokes his head in and out to see if I’m paying attention to him. As the appointment gets closer, the carrier comes out of the closet.  I put it at the foot of the bed.  He happily plays in and around it.  He even bats it around to see how far he can move it.  He is silly and playful.  On appointment day, I place the carrier up on the bench that sits at the foot of the bed.  Fitz is fine with the movement.  He’s even fine with me putting him in the carrier and zipping it up.  He remains quiet while I move the carrier into the car.  He adjusts himself to get comfortable for the ride.  I feel confident that the planning has worked.  I start the car and begin the journey to the vet.  That’s when the bottom falls out. Fitz begins to cry and sing the song of cats of old.  It’s a belly cry that is loud and piercing.  At first, I speak gently to him.  I tell him that he’s okay.  I reassure him that it will be a short ride.  I try to shush him.  Ya’ll nothing worked.  So, I put on some music and rode it out.  Thankfully, the vet isn’t that far away.  His appointment was easy breezy, lemon squeezy.  They whisked him away from my car and brought him back.  I didn’t have to move a muscle.  Fifteen minutes later, we were on our way back home.  I had hoped that he would sing a new song on the way home or even just quietly meditate on what had happened to him in that room.  I suppose my first hope came true.  He sang a different tune.  He was NOT pleased with his situation and made sure that I knew about it.  His antics kicked up a notch.  Since I was ignoring him, he would fight his way out of that carrier.  It was an interesting ride home to say the least.  But we both made it home in one piece and regained some peace. How often do I act like this sweet cat of mine when it comes to dealing with life?  When God places opportunities near and around me that are meant to carry me to new places, I’m comfortable with sticking myself in and out of them.  I don’t have to be fully committed to the situation.  I can play around with it.  The door is open.  And then when God asks me to commit to the opportunity…when that opportunity has the ability to carry me to the place that I need to be…I sing my song of trouble.  I feel trapped.  I complain throughout the journey. Even after I’ve been given medicine from God that will protect me from hurt, harm, and danger, I protest.  I need this direction from God, but my little crazy self will kick, scream, and buck.  Until I make it back to a familiar location.  Until I return to what’s comfortable for me.  Recently, I made up my mind to fully trust God.  I am becoming comfortable with things that are uncomfortable.  I’m trusting that He’s carrying me exactly where I need to be.  #wepreach

What they say is true.  A picture is worth a thousand words.  Maybe even a million words.  When I left work, I felt pulled to look at old pictures.  Google Photos is my friend.  It allowed me to peruse my life and recall different moments in time.  An added bonus to my trip down memory lane is that my cousin found an old jump drive.  She started sending pictures from ten years ago.  Back to the time that I cut off all my relaxed hair and embraced my natural hair. Baby, let me tell you.  I thank God for growth.  Super short hair was not my friend, but I was determined to make it work.  I didn’t have much hair.  But I worked my hair over.  The hairstyles were endless.  I would twist the front and let the back explode in curls.  I twisted it all over.  Ya’ll the little bit of hair that I had was probably tired of me messing with it.  Every night, I did something different to prep my hair for the next day. It wasn’t just the styling that was excessive.  In the olden days (ten years ago), there was not a wide variety of natural hair care products on the market.  There were, however, lots of recipes for natural hair products.  The spray bottle became my friend.  I was a mixologist.  I tried everything that others said worked for them.  I bought big tubs of shea butter and attempted to whip up my own concoctions.  I was dedicated to having the healthiest looking hair possible.  Failure wasn’t an option.  I didn’t want to present myself to the world looking any kind of way. As the years have passed, I’ve become way more relaxed about my old hair.  I should get some of that old zeal back and start styling my hair on a regular basis.  The puff is my best friend and constant companion.  At times, I jazz up the old puff with a colorful tie, but I have become complacent.  My hair is good enough.  The natural movement caused many companies to stand up and take notice.  I can’t get on social media without seeing a new product pop up.  I don’t have to make my own concoctions anymore.  I can go into any store and find something that will work for my hair.  If it doesn’t work, there are literally hundreds of other options on the market. Funny how my hair made me think about my faith.  I remember being a teenager and being so into the Word.  I was invested.  I carried my teen Bible around, and I read that thing.  It had the best info pages in it.  It made me want to study more.  The internet wasn’t a good resource then.  I had to physically go to the library to find books that would answer my questions.  I had to ask for help from my parents or other spiritual leaders.  I had to be focused, and quite often, I was. Fast forward to now.  I have so much information available at my fingertips, and I’m slow to use it.  I have access to resources now that I didn’t even know existed then.  There are countless Bible studies, devotionals, and commentaries available to aid in my study of God’s word.  And Lord help, I get lazy.  I study enough to accomplish the tasks set before me.  I let my old faithful be enough, and I need to have a zeal that changes the world. Pray for my hair AND my study time with the Lord.  I gots to do better.  I don’t want to look back at pictures captured during this time and realize that I missed the mark.  I don’t want to miss out on all the great things that He has planned for me.  Let me work this Word over like I did my super short hair.  I want to be presentable to God.   #wepreach

Yesterday’s sermon covered an often-told Bible story.  We revisited the story of the prodigal son.  Many of us are familiar with analyzing the son’s actions.  We talk about how he wanted it all now.  We speak of his impatience and foolishness and then rejoice over his return to himself.  The sermon, however, focused on the father’s love and the fact that the father’s love made all the difference.  Let’s dive into it. Luke 15:11-32 recounts the tale of the prodigal son.  Jesus often spoke in parables to make His points more relatable to the audience.  It was an opportunity to help others see themselves and recognize their fallacies.  In this parable, there is a man with two sons.  The younger son requests his inheritance.  The father obliges.  The son goes to a far country and lives his best life.  He lives his best life so well that all his money runs out.  Famine is in the land.  He gets hungry.  He gets desperate.  He makes the choice to return home. One of the most touching parts of the story is that the father was watching for the son’s return.  While the son is still a great way off, the father sees him.  He doesn’t stand on the porch and play it cool.  He doesn’t pretend that he doesn’t know it’s his son.  The father runs to son.  He falls on his son’s neck.  He kisses his son.  He is glad that his son made the choice to return home.  No condemnation.  The father’s watchfulness has paid off.  His lost son has found his way home.  He has been preparing for the son’s return the entire time that he was been in a far-off country.  And now that his son has returned, he will be restored to his rightful place. Now, we have to remember that the prodigal son came home because he exhausted all of his resources.  So, he’s probably looking like what he’s been through.  Broke down.  Busted.  Disgusted.  His good father, his loving father can’t stand to see his child looking that way.  He calls for the BEST robe.  He requests that they put a ring on the son’s hand and sandals on his feet.  He wants them to kill the fatted calf and get the party started.  His lost son has been found.  There is reason to celebrate. I KNOW that’s what I looked like before I accepted Jesus.  A hot mess.  But if I can be completely honest, there have been times that I looked like that after I accepted Jesus.  Am I the only one like that?  I can get beside myself.  Or start smelling myself as the old saints say.  I feel that I know best, so I wander.  Off into the far country.  A short stroll turns into a long journey.  I’ve lost myself.  Then one day, I realize that I don’t have to continue to wander.  I turn back to God.  He’s right there with the BEST waiting for me.  It’s a celebration!  Well, at least it is for me.  It would be too simple if this was the end of the story.  But come on now, we live in the world with people.  While the younger son was out in the streets, the older son was working.  He was doing what he was supposed to do.  As a matter of fact, while he was out in the field, he heard music AND dancing.  You know the party is something serious if he HEARD dancing.  Maybe the brother joined a fraternity while he was gone and had the servants stepping with him.  Anyways…He asks a servant what’s going on.  The servant lets him know that his younger brother has returned home.  The older brother is furious.  He refuses to go to the house party.  He doesn’t want to join in with the stepping.  And once again, the father shows up and show out. The father reminds the older son that all that the father has belongs to the older son as well.  He has not withheld anything from him.  The father has had the pleasure to spend time with the older son.  He wasn’t lost.  He reminds his son that it’s a blessing to be found.  Being found is a reason to celebrate.  He doesn’t want his sons to live in a contentious state.  He wants them to live in harmony.  The father makes the effort to reconcile the brothers. While it would be easy to point fingers at the older brother, I think it’s easy to get into his mindset.  He was at home.  He never left.  He was doing the work.  He was like many people that have been in church all their lives.  The faithful saints that have been doing the work.  Showing up on Sundays, Wednesdays, and any day in between.  Consistent.  And consistently missing the point.  The father reminds him and us that we can rejoice for those who have been lost and are found.  Yes, we’ve been in house, and we’ve been working.  That also means that we have been in close proximity to the Father.  We have had access to Him and all His many blessings the whole time.  So, we should celebrate with those who have found their way home. A good Father makes all the difference.  #wepreach Let’s talk about it: Do you ever feel taken for granted or underappreciated? When was the last time that you celebrated someone else? Have you ever wandered away from a relationship with a local church? If yes, were you compelled to return? Why or why not? Have you wandered away from a relationship with Jesus Christ? What qualities are seen in good fathers?

Happy Father’s Day!  Let me make a confession.  I spend lots of time thinking about a Mother’s Day gift.  I poke and prod to see what my mom wants way ahead of time.  But Father’s Day…well, that’s a different story. It is no secret that I don’t have a close relationship with my biological father or stepfather (is ex-stepfather a term)?  And while I have many men in my life that have stepped in to fill in the gap, I’m not as intentional about giving them the honor that they deserve.  Clearly, that’s a character flaw of mine.  I need to do better.  I need to be better. My biological father was absent for most of my childhood, but I have one memory of him that sticks in my mind.  I can’t remember which birthday it was, but he promised me that he would come to my party.  I was excited.  My party came and went.  He didn’t show up.  Although he didn’t make it, he did send money—one hundred dollars.  Can you imagine how life changing one hundred dollars is for a kid????  Shoot…it would be life changing for me today.  So 30 years ago, it was a fortune! My mom asked me what I wanted to do with my sudden windfall.  She took me to Wal-Mart, and my imagination went wild.  Well, as wild as my little imagination went.  My desires were simple.  I wanted a bike and as many books as that money would get me.  That’s what we bought.  The bike was stolen years later.  The books became worn.  But the memory remains. And what do I do with my random memories and uncharted future on this Father’s Day?  No.  Really.  That’s a real question.  I’m unsure.  I know that I can express gratitude for the gift of life.  I can be thankful for every man that took a vested interest in my life and those that didn’t.  The reality is that life does not revolve around me, and no one owes me anything.  But it is also reality to say that being pushed to the side is hurtful. Father’s Day has to become a more important holiday for me.  I really have to be intentional about giving honor where honor is due.  For every sad memory, men have come along to plant a seed of love and hope.  Whether it was my Uncle Tweet who let me put his Jheri curl in pigtails while we watched WrestleMania, or my stepfather taking me to my one (and only) Father/Daughter dance.  I’m grateful for the men who poured into my life. Of course, I’m grateful for God. He is the ultimate Father. He has always taken the BEST care of me. Even when I struggle with my flesh, He is patient with me. He loves me. He sends people to embrace me and be His representative on this earth. Hug your dads a little tighter today if you can.  If they’re gone, think of how blessed that you were to have them.  Happy Father’s Day!  #wepreach

Goooooood morning ya’ll!  I’m not going to hold you long.  Wednesday nights have become a very integral part of my week.  Even when I’m bogged down with activity, I look forward to the REfresh Bible study.  It helps me adjust my focus and often provides comic relief as well.  Last night was no exception.  The panel discussion format continued to reign supreme and steered our focus towards educating ourselves about the legal system and our rights.  Protesting is a good way to show your frustration with inequality.  After protesting, we need practical steps to activate change.  After protesting, we have to get in tune with the policies that are perpetuating systemic racism and dismantle them.  One march will not solve all our ills.  We have to remain consistent and intentional.  So what does that mean? We have to know the voting records of the politicians that are running for office.  Uggggh….I know….research….learning.  The great news is that we have bounds of information available at our fingertips.  The bad news is that we can trust some unreliable sources and spread that information like the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Trust me…I know some unreliable sources.  My first question is always “Where did you get this information?”  That’s a different story for a different day. We also need to be informed about the impact that different issues on the ballot will have on our lives.  There is no worse feeling than getting into the voting booth and realizing that you don’t know anything about the issues at hand.  While everyone needs to exercise their right to vote, they also need to have a clear understanding of what’s at stake.  We’ve got work to do.  As the panel was winding down, a panelist brought up Mark 5.  There is a man who has been tormented by demons.  The people have tried to chain him up multiple times.  He’s wreaking havoc.  He is an outcast.  His life changes when Jesus comes and frees him from the demons that have had him bound.  The chains didn’t change him.  Jesus did. This is a wonderful commentary on our mission as the church.  We should advocate for mental health reform.  We should be intentional in our push for community outreach that helps broken and bound people become free.  That’s easier said than done.  It’s pretty and nice to say but much harder to see through until the end.  I’m not giving up on us.  #wepreach

Competition brings out the beast in me.  I’m a winner.  I like to win.  I want to win.  So, it should come as no surprise to you that I can turn any simple thing into a competition.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I don’t walk around like a big bully challenging people to duels.  I have a healthy appreciation for games and fun.  Being the big sister to Bible Study Brother helped shape his fiercely competitive nature.  I keep him on his toes. We were in a store one day getting groceries.  Occasionally, we like to have fat kid collaboration meals.  We decide on a meal that we want to eat and think of ways that we can take it up a notch.  (That was just extra information and has nothing to do with the real point of the story.  I’m long-winded…I like details….you should know this by now…)  As we placed our goods on the conveyor belt, I blurted out what I thought the total would be.  He gave his guesstimate and a new challenge was born. This started a new trend.  We didn’t do it every time that we went to the store together, but it became a pretty regular occurrence.  Bible Study Brother had a trick up his sleeve though.  He always let me guess first.  He adjusted whatever number he had in his head based on what I said.  I didn’t catch on originally.  One day, he confessed his strategy while laughing at my obviously distraught face after losing.  He didn’t have to be mindful of the cost on his own, because he knew that I would be. Why was I so mindful of the cost?  Glad you asked.  Because quite often, I was paying for it.  When it’s your money, or your skin in the game, you tend the count up the cost.  I worked to earn the money and wanted to know how much my shopping trips were going to cost me.  If only I was that mindful about the spiritual cost of my decisions.  Child, I walk around the world all willy-nilly and loosie-goosey at times.  I forget that my freedom was paid for at an exceedingly high cost.  I just revel in the fact that I’m free, and I’m free to make whatever choice I please.  I push away the fact that Jesus literally died in my place.  Thankfully, there has been a change in me. Even when it’s uncomfortable, I have to remember the price that was paid.  Even though it pains me, I have to count the cost of my actions.  Jesus believed in us so much that He put his own skin in the game.  In order to be a true winner, I must count up the cost.  #wepreach

Just last week, I was asked what I thought were my strong traits.  Patience is the first thing that popped into my head.  I expounded on my ability to wait out situations.  I really hyped myself up the more that I discussed it.  Yup…that’s me…patient Patty.  And then……life happened.  I had to confront some uncomfortable truths. Not too long ago, there was a viral video challenge going around.  Parents would secretly record their children.  They would place a bowl of candy or treats in front of them.  The parent would promise the child that they could have the candy, but they just had to wait for a moment.  The parent would make an excuse to leave.  The child would be left all alone with a bowl of delectable treats within their grasp.  Well, at least they thought that they were alone.  The camera would be there recording how they handled the temptation. My favorite video features Kylie Jenner’s daughter, Stormi.  Stormi is two-years old and absolutely adorable.  If I were a betting woman, and I am, my bet was that Stormi would demolish that candy as soon as her mother left the room.  Initially, Stormi is entranced by a television show.  Then, she remembers the candy.  She puts her face close to the bowl and smiles.  Just as quickly, she straightens her body and sings “patience, patience” with a smile on her face.  She remains that way until her mother returns and gives her the candy that was promised to her.  I would have lost the bet. The truth is that my assumption that she would take the candy had very little to do with Stormi personally and everything to do with her age.  She’s only two years old.  Self-control is difficult for sixty-two year olds, so in my mind there was little chance that Stormi would beat the odds.  If she took that candy, nobody would fault her because she’s just a kid. The uncomfortable truth that I had to face is that I’m not a kid anymore.  I’ve been saved for way too long to give in to every temptation that is placed within my grasp.  I’m the queen of being nice/nasty and putting someone in their place without cursing them out.  When faced with a situation that pulled at the very core of my nastiness, I had to tap out and say, “Not today.”  “Patience, patience” had to become my motto because I had to wait for God to supply the right words. Unlike Stormi, I wasn’t rocking contentedly with a smile on my face.  I was pacing the floor.  I was writing and erasing.  I was talking it out.  And finally, I got to the peaceful part.  If a two-year-old can wait for a promised reward, why can’t I?  With all that being said, I will still say that patience is a strength of mine.  We only get stronger when our muscles are stretched and torn.  The torn fibers of the muscles heal and create bigger muscle.  People constantly test my patience.  They stretch it and tear it.  I give it to God, and He heals it.  He makes me stronger.  #wepreach

My Sunday morning routine is drastically different than what it used to be.  Pre-COVID, I would get up, shower, get dressed, and try to be out of the door by 8:30 a.m.  I wanted to get to Christian Life Development on time.  I didn’t want to miss any part of the service.  These days, I get up, shower, get dressed, and head to my dining room table.  I participate in Christian Life Development on Zoom.  And then I head to my pew, I mean my couch, to hear the sermon.  And what a sermon it was. Last week, Pastor discussed the resurrection of Lazarus from the dead.  This week, we journeyed to John 12:9-11.  Although we often hear about Lazarus being raised from the dead, we miss what happens to him after he is revived.  A great crowd of Jews has come to see Jesus.  Actually, they aren’t only coming to see Jesus.  They want to see Lazarus as well.  They heard the story of his resurrection and want to see him for themselves. Who can blame them?  My recent prayer requests have included petitions for God to show me miracles, signs, and wonders.  If I got word that a walking miracle was in town, I’d want to see it with my own eyes.  Unfortunately, this didn’t sit well with the chief priests.  They already had plans brewing to kill Jesus.  This recent series of events put Lazarus in their sights.  Now, they wanted to kill Lazarus as well.  But why Lazarus?  What was he guilty of? Lazarus was guilty of being a survivor.  He was guilty of being a living, breathing testimony to God’s grace and saving power.  And that infuriates Satan.  Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy.  I’m sure he counted the death of Lazarus as a victory.  And Jesus came and snatched that trophy away.  Hell was outraged.  Here is Lazarus.  Walking.  Talking.  And defeating every evil plan.  He is a symbol of hope. I don’t know about you, but I’m desperately in need of hope.  The world can chew us up and spit us out…if we let it.  Church, our light is shining.  In a very dark world, we stand out.  It makes us an easy target for lies.  It makes us an easy target for character assassination.  Satan desperately wants to put out our lights for good.  He wants us to become so discouraged that we forget about Jesus and cave to our flesh.  He wants to kill our witness.  He wants to kill our hope. As long as we live new lives for Christ, we will face persecution.  The hard part is not growing weary in our well doing.  The difficult task is not caving to our feelings and throwing in the towel.  We’re picked on because our lives have the power to impact generations.  We can be the lights that we have been called to be.  If we’re going to be guilty of anything, let us be guilty of holding up the blood-stained banner of Jesus Christ.  Let us be guilty of living lives that reflect God’s love.  The truth of the matter is that Lazarus is not the only one on Satan’s list.  We are as well.  But just like Lazarus, we have a new life in Christ.  A life that is supposed to be lived abundantly.  Not bound in despair.  We were called to life and life more abundantly.  We were called to hope.  My hope is that you shake off the feelings of “why me” and rejoice in your calling.  The atmosphere is shifting.  Miracles, signs, and wonders are within our grasp.  #wepreach Let’s talk it out: How do you handle attacks of your character? When others have personal encounters with you, do they leave feeling refreshed or drained? Think of a time when you did not display the love of Christ. What prevented you from doing so? What’s more important- your witness or satisfying your flesh?

Navigating family dynamics has been a struggle at various times in my life.  The older I get, the more life that I live, the more I realize that everybody’s family has issues and struggles.  When I was younger, I would get so frustrated.  Why couldn’t my family just act right?  Why couldn’t we get it together and be “normal” like everyone else’s family?  I had a fairytale idea of normal.  I guess I was seeking perfection out of others.  Even though I knew that I could not live up to the idea of a perfect daughter. I was so fed up with my family when I was younger that I decided to strike out on my own.  I was probably ten or eleven.  I just couldn’t take it any longer.  I had watched enough cartoons and soap operas to know that there was a real life out there that was mine for the taking.  Now, I’m no fool.  I had no intentions of living on the streets as a runaway.  I grabbed the phone book and called different hotels to see what their rates were.  I was going to save until I could afford to live elsewhere….LOL.  Bless my little heart.  My plans fell through when I got the rates and realized that I didn’t have that kind of money.  So, I was stuck with my family. If you’ve been reading along in the blogs for a while, you know that one of my goals for my thirty seventh year of life is to read through the entire Bible.  Instead of reading it straight through from cover to cover, I found a plan that lets you read the Bible in a chronological order.  I thought this might help me have a better understanding of what is going on.  So far it has.  Actually, just reading the Bible period has put so many things in perspective.  Like my thoughts on family. Sitting down and spending time with these famous Bible icons has been interesting.  I’m not just reading straight through to get it done.  I’m tuned into the family dynamics.  I’m putting myself into their shoes.  They were included in the Bible for a reason, and I want to learn whatever they were meant to teach me.  And let me tell ya’ll, the Bible greats had serious family drama. I’m only forty-three days into this journey, and these family stories have taken me down through there.  Cain and Abel, Jacob and Essau, Leah and Rachel, Job and his people, Joseph and his low-down brothers, Judah and Tamar.  I mean…down….through…there.  And I learned the MOST important thing.  Even though we may mess it up, God is gracious and can restore us.  In all that I’ve read, none of the families get it right all the time.  Sometimes the family members ask for forgiveness for their wrong doings.  Sometimes they don’t.  But people get to live full lives when they trust and depend on God. That’s easier said than done many times.  So, I have to read the Bible daily.  I have to pray.  I have to maintain my focus on what God has for me and my family.  The families that I’ve read about in the Bible had some awfully messy times, but they also experienced great joy when they shifted their focus to God.  I can’t give up on my family.  They may not be perfect, but they’re perfect for me.  It just took me a while to understand that.  #wepreach

Once upon a time, people would go on vacation.  They would get on planes.  They would pile in their cars and go on road trips.  They would take cruises.  With the state of affairs in the world now, many people have decided to hold off on vacations.  I was sitting and thinking about some of the many trips that I’ve taken, and one vacation floated to the top of the list.  Initially, it made me laugh.  As I thought of it more, I realized that a great lesson emerged from the experience.  Ya’ll ready for our trip?  Let’s go to Jamaica! When Bible Study Mama turned fifty, we turned her party out.  She had a choreographed dance that we had practiced in the living room.  She had all the friends and family that she could handle.  We had a blast.  She also had her first cruise.  We went to Jamaica and decided that Dunns River Falls would be a fun activity.  Dunns River Falls is a waterfall that pools into the ocean.  People from around the world climb it when they are on vacation.  Bible Study Mama loves water.  She loves adventure.  Win, win. Now, let me add that it wasn’t my first time climbing the waterfall.  I climbed it years before….when I was twenty-two.  I was with my friends after college graduation.  I was the biggest girl in the group.  I catalogue strenuous activities in a special part of my brain that reminds me not to go there again.  No warning bells went off in my head.  This was going to be a fun time! Then we arrived at the Falls.  We had an energetic guide.  His job was to make sure that we got to the top safely and have fun while we were doing it.  Things were progressing well.  Bible Study Brother was in the lead.  Bible Study Mama and I were climbing in tandem.  We reached the first high rock and trouble began.  Bible Study Mama wanted help.  I reached out to help her, and ya’ll, she almost took me out.  This happened a couple more times.  I did the only thing I could think of.  I told Bible Study Brother that it was his responsibility to make sure that Mama made it up the Falls. Since Bible Study Brother had been living the good life, he had no idea what I was talking about.  He was blissfully unaware of what awaited him.  But oh, when it happened…he got to experience her take down spirit for himself.  I’m almost crying laughing as I type this.  He’s taller than me and stronger than me.  And it was a task for him.  The guide, Bible Study Brother, Bible Study Mama, and I were so thrilled to make it to the top of the Falls.  I could have continued to reach out and drag my mom along, but the truth is that I probably would have ended up hurt.  And she wasn’t trying to hurt me.  She legitimately needed help.  But I wasn’t strong enough to lift her up.  I had enough sense to tag in my network to help her make it up and out…alive.  I have been guilty many times of suffering in silence when I’m helping someone.  It took me a long time to realize that Jesus already did the dying on my behalf.  He wants me to live.  And sometimes the best way to help someone is to find someone stronger.  I didn’t abandon her, but I did get her the right help. We made it to the top.  And learned a lot along the way.  We drank out of coconuts on the beach after our grand adventure.  We played in the ocean.  We enjoyed our day.  And we decided that climbing waterfalls as a family was NOT our forte.  We don’t have to do that again.  #wepreach

Wednesday night’s REfresh Bible Study was much needed.  I know.  I know. I say that about every one of them.  Just because I say it all the time does not mean that it’s not true.  If anything, my takeaways from these sessions should pique your curiosity.  They should draw you in and make you want to dive a little deeper into the topics at hand.  Now that we’ve settled that, let’s talk about the panel that presented last night. Last week, a different panel convened to discuss racism and religion.  We got to hear from Black men in the church.  We heard their stories and listened to how they were dealing with the social injustices in America.  This week, we heard from four senior pastors of black churches.  We were privy to their thoughts about the appropriate response of the black church. I knew the evening was going to be good when Pastor played a video to jump start the discussion.  Over the weekend, senior pastors from our area met up to talk about race.  Anywhere from 70-80 men and women of different races convened, amid a pandemic, to figure out how to change the tide of systemic oppression of Black people.  The video played was a snippet of one White pastor’s thoughts on how the church, God’s people, should respond. His words were powerful and a clear call to action.  He challenged Christians to take a stand for the Black community. But what kind of stand is the Black church taking?  What should be our response?  The panelists were transparent and offered more than just stereotypical responses.   While we need prayer, we also need action.  I was delighted to learn that team has been formed that will address voter registration AND education in our community.  The education part is often overlooked in our drive to get people out in numbers.  We have to be aware of the policies that different candidates advocate for…and against. The night was not all about activism.  Each pastor shared the emotional impact that 2020 has had on their lives.  They are pastoring in a worldwide pandemic.  While adjusting to concerns of personal safety, and the safety of their families, they have had to do ministry in an entirely new way.  The way that we “do church” has turned upside down, and they’ve been taken along for the ride.  Then George Floyd’s murder occurs and takes us all down through there.  Yes, they believe in God, but they are not God.  Our response to our pastors should be responses of compassion and care.  Not constant critiques of all that goes wrong.  They’re human too. They closed out the night discussing our very real human responses.  Right now, in the month of June, in the year of our Lord 2020, I have a short fuse.  I just had to tell somebody the other day that I’m not in the mood for foolishness.  The things that I used to let slide don’t stand a chance.  I’m very aware of that, so I take steps to preserve my peace.  Each pastor described ways that they were dealing with their emotions.  One discussed limiting the intake of news coverage and giving yourself a chance to de-stress.  I have had to do that for myself because my blood gets to boiling if I watch too long. Of course, we need prayer.  Of course, we need to study the Word.  Of course, we need to be kind to our fellow man.  But that’s not always easy.  The systemic oppression was not created overnight. The church, and Black America, have to be committed for the long haul. The words that we say have power.  The actions that we take have power as well.  What’s your response? #wepreach

I haven’t arrived at the place in my life where I make all the right decisions.  As a matter of fact, I spend a lot of time questioning my choices.  “Was that the right move?”  “Maybe I should have ______.”  “How did I end up here?” You would think that with all of my second-guessing that it would take me a long time to make up my mind about anything.  And your thinking would be wrong. Although I weigh my options when a decision has to be made, I don’t tarry long.  I do the thing that feels good to me.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I will pray and ask God which way to move, but like I said….I don’t tarry long.  It’s like I have ants in my pants.  I jump feet first into my decision and ride it out until the end. Well, life has taught me that is not necessarily the best course of action.  All that jumping feet first has seriously damaged my feet.  And instead of jumping in, I’m dangling my feet off the ledge to see how far the fall will be.  Real talk, I just want God to sit at the table with me and say, “Look fool…this is what you need to do.”  But it hasn’t worked out like that.  I’ve only audibly heard the voice of God once.  And I obeyed Him…for a while. So, I guess that’s the problem.  I get in my own way.  Even when He takes time to correct me, I get beside myself.  I chase after the next dangling carrot and push His voice to the side.  But I know that doesn’t always have to be my story.  I have the power to change.  I have the power to push my desires to the side. With the help of the Holy Spirit. Because this flesh… Just pray for me.  I’m reading the Bible.  I’m fasting.  I’m praying for myself.  I need to hear His voice.  I need to know the next move that I need to make.  I do know that I’ll have to jump if He says to jump. Even if it seems like it’s a long way down. I just want to make sure that it’s His voice and not my own.  If He does get to hollering at me again, I’ll let you know.  Until next time.  #wepreach

The past two weeks have been hectic.  The nation has had a lot to process.  In all my emotional ups and downs, I forgot to keep you guys up to date.  After weeks of wondering “how long Lord?”, I finally got a reprieve.  My job opened back up last week, and I dove back into the swing of things. Of course, I have had to adjust to the new normal.  Face shields and masks have been added to my daily attire.  They are my new accessories.  And let me tell you about my new accessories.  THEY ARE HOT!  Like, not as in stylish “hot” but temperature hot.  Put a big girl in a mask that recycles her own hot breath, and you have a recipe for disaster.  It’s necessary but definitely an adjustment. I’m sure it’s an adjustment for the children as well.  I can only imagine that they feel like they’ve landed on a planet of aliens….or astronauts.  We’re all covered up, and they aren’t.  Actually, I know that it’s an adjustment for them.  I also moved to a different office, so there were a lot of changes coming to them at the same time.  They were the sweetest kids on EARTH last week.  I had to ask some of them if they were okay.  They followed directions with minimal prompting.  They moved more slowly.  All was calm. Then this week arrived, and all bets were off.  The sweetest angels on earth ripped off their wings and got back to business as usual.  They realized that they were not, in fact, on an alien planet.  Fear was not a factor.  They reclaimed their sense of adventure.  And shrugged off some of the tried and true rules that have been in place since day one. If these kids aren’t acting like me…LOL.  When COVID-19 shook my world up, I felt like I was on a different planet.  I could not orient myself to the new place that I was in.  I followed the Lord’s directions with minimal prompting.  All I had was Him.  I moved slowly and was calm.  Now that I’m back at work, I have had to adjust to my work schedule.  I put Him on the back burner.  I veer out and spend my time doing other things.  I mess up with prioritizing the most important relationship in my life. I had to put my foot down with the sweetest kids on earth.  I patched up the wings that they tore off.  I reminded them of who they were and how things operate.  I feel God doing the same with me.  #wepreach

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life.  He who believes in me, though he may die, he shall live. John 11:25 Life.  So precious.  So fragile.  Every day that we wake up is another chance to get it right.  To do it over again.  When we accept Jesus as our personal Lord and Savior, we’re given new life.  A do-over.  But it doesn’t stop there.  Walk with me through the sermon recap. In John 11:25, Jesus is talking to Martha.  Her brother Lazarus died four days ago.  She sent for Jesus while Lazarus was ill.  She believed in the Lord’s saving power.  She sent for Jesus while her brother still had breath in his body.  She believed that Jesus could heal Lazarus.  And yet, Jesus did not show up until four days after Lazarus’s death. Martha breaks tradition.  She breaks the standard routines and meets Jesus as he is coming to her home.  She doesn’t have time for protocol.  She is hurt and wants answers.  Why didn’t the Lord show up for her in her hour of need?  See Jesus had waited until there was absolutely no hope.  Well at least as far as Martha was concerned.  Jews felt that the spirit of the deceased lingered for three days.  As long as the spirit was there, hope remained.  On day four, Martha’s expectations were slim to none.  Martha’s pain is valid and expected.  Her response is natural.  And Jesus responds to her in a supernatural way. He brings Lazarus back to life.  But before he brought Lazarus back to life, he asked Martha if she believed.  He wanted to know if she trusted Him.  He wanted to know if she believed that everything that He said was true.  Her situation did not just look dead.  It was dead.  Martha had to make the decision to believe Jesus when the circumstances screamed the opposite.  She chose faith.  She chose hope.  She believed before she saw it. Jesus took her hopeless situation and restored her hope.  He interrupted her grieving process and gave her the opportunity to believe Him for more.  But He was not finished.  Lazarus came forth from the grave.  He was alive.  Breath had returned to his body.  But he was still bound in grave clothes.  His face was wrapped with a cloth.  What kind of life would that be?  Jesus commanded them to loose Lazarus and let him go.  Jesus desired more for Lazarus than life.  He desired that Lazarus would be free and not bound in this life. I’m convinced that many of us are like Lazarus when he first emerges from the tomb.  We have received new life when we accepted Jesus into our hearts.  We go to church.  We do the things that look right to the world.  But we’re still bound.  We may be bound by attempting to live up to others expectations.  We may be bound by guilt, fear, or depression.  We may be bound because God is not doing the things that we want.  We may be bound by limited expectations of a limitless God.  Whatever the binding is, we’re not living the free life that Jesus desires for us. Jesus did not die for us to just have new life.  He wants us to experience that life more abundantly.  He wants to add to our joy.  I’m compelled to trust God with all my dead situations.  Every hopeless circumstance is cast at His feet.  A supernatural God orchestrates supernatural experiences.  And life.  #wepreach Let’s sit outside the tomb and chat awhile: What are the hopeless situations in your life (finances, family, health)? Do you believe that God performs miracles today as He did for Lazarus? Have you personally had a supernatural experience with God? If yes, do you think back on that experience when you encounter new obstacles? If no, does that weaken your expectation that God will EVER move supernaturally for you? Do you know others that have had a supernatural experience with God?

Although Bible Study Brother can be long-winded, so can I.  Someone posted a question on biblestudygirl.com.  I thought about my response for a while.  I was trying to be as concise as possible in my response, but it kept getting longer and longer.  Baby, I had to quit and just say that I’ll answer it in the form of a blog so I could gather my thoughts in one place.  The question wasn’t super deep, but it really made me think about my experiences in the church.  The question was how does one start to serve in ministry. I grew up in the church.  I was going to say that we did everything but sleep there, but we slept there too.  We had lock-ins (sleepovers) with Girl Scouts and later with the youth ministry.  We did life with our church family, and that involved being in many different ministries.  I was even part of the church basketball team one year and was NOT happy about it.  That was NOT my gift.  We repped Jesus everywhere we went.  I did not have to consciously think about serving in ministry, because it was built into my lifestyle. Fast forward to the time that I joined my new church after I graduated high school.  My aunt, uncle, and cousins were members there.  So, I wasn’t going WAY off the beaten trail.  But it was still new.  I was not part of any of the formal ministries at the church.  I attended Wednesday night Bible study and Sunday worship and that was enough for me.  My natural inclination is to keep to myself.  ESPECIALLY at that age.  I didn’t join a ministry at the church because I felt like the odd ball out.  I would assist with different events, but I wasn’t an official member of any of the ministries. Once I moved out of state and didn’t know ANYONE, I gathered the courage to join the drama ministry at my new church.  There was an announcement in the church bulletin, and I signed up.  In my nine months there, we had one performance.  But hey….I was making progress.  When I moved back to Arkansas, I hit the ground running at my church.  I was in the choir, Mission, taught Sunday School, planned Vacation Bible School, and lead the youth with Bible Study Cousin.  Whenever I saw a gap, I volunteered to fill it.  I mean…I was in ALL the ministries. I still had not realized that ministry was so much more than my participation in a group within the walls of the church.  My entire life is ministry.  The way that I interact with people is important and has purpose.  Ministry is about meeting people where they are.  Ministry is about meeting a need. So how does one start to serve in a ministry?  If you have breath in your body, you’re already on the mission field.  Your ministry with others plays out throughout your day.  Taking time to listen to someone’s complaint is ministry.  Giving an encouraging word is ministry.  Helping someone that doesn’t have enough to eat is ministry.  There are organizations worldwide that support humanitarian causes.  You can serve in ministry by linking up with those organizations and volunteering your time.  The church is the body of Christ, and we have a responsibility to have a global presence.  In these times of COVID-19, we have learned just how true that is.  We have an obligation to serve others even if we are not a formal member of a church ministry. Although our personal lives are a ministry, it is also important to be connected to our local church and engaged in the ministries available through the church.  God has purpose for our presence in the local church body.  We all have to contribute to the health and vitality of the ministries within our church.  Usually churches provide opportunities to participate in ministries during announcements.  That’s a great way to get your feet wet and figure out where you can best contribute. We shouldn’t go to church to be entertained.  We go to get educated and equipped for ministry.  If you can work in ministry in your local church, you can make it anywhere.  It has been a great training ground for me.  Let me tell you…I know there’s a God because I have survived some super saved folks.  Told you I was long-winded. #wepreach

Fun fact:  I do not plan my outfits for work.  I have a drawer that is specifically set aside for my work attire.  I take whatever t-shirt/pant combo that is at the top of the drawer and go about my day.  There are exceptions to this rule.  Sometimes, we have spirit week at work, and I need to wear a certain t-shirt.  When that happens, I’ll pull out the right t-shirt the night before.  Those weeks are few and far between.  My routine nowadays is consistently to grab and go.  Yesterday morning, my outfit consisted of my black t-shirt that has my speech-language pathologist credentials printed on the front of the shirt.  The back of the shirt reads “Because everyone deserves a voice”.  The atmosphere is charged in America right now because African-Americans are adamant saying that we want our voices to be heard.  The irony for me is that my shirt was purchased a long time ago.  I was not thinking of the plight of Black America.  I was thinking about all the kids that I come in contact with on a daily basis.  Kids that have thoughts and emotions that they are unable to express.  They have needs that are unmet because they can’t communicate in a way that the average person can understand.  But everyone deserves a voice. One of the joys of my job is that I’m able to help those children find their voice.  Before becoming an SLP, I thought obtaining a degree in speech-language pathology would give me a clear-cut answer on how to fix every communication issue.  That was NOT the case.  We learned theories.  We learned strategies.  We were taught how to use evidence-based practice.  But in day to day practice, I learned that there were no guarantees.  Every child’s deficits were different.  They all learn in different ways.  I had to learn to tweak my approach to match THEIR needs.  They didn’t care what I learned in school.  When the tried and true techniques failed, I learned flexibility.  I also learned to ask colleagues for help.  I couldn’t let my pride deter the kid’s progress, because everyone deserves a voice. Any speech-language pathologist will tell you that a patient who is unable to communicate their needs will become frustrated.  Whether the patient is two years old or ninety-two years old, they know when people don’t understand them.  Typically, one of two things will happen.  One, they will withdraw and not attempt to communicate.  Or two, they will make sure that everyone knows how frustrated they are.  Do you know how sad it is to see a kid that desperately wants to communicate give up?  I do.  When that happens, I check myself and think of ways to encourage them.  I do not want them to give up.  Because everyone deserves a voice. My experience in therapy has given me the invaluable gift of deciphering speech that is unintelligible to the average person.  The family doesn’t like to play Mad Gabs with me, because years of listening carefully to speech have honed that skill.  Add my competitive edge, and it’s an unfair fight.  I wish that America would step back and take the time to really listen to what Black America is saying.  To sit down and take in the Black experience.  Because beyond the frustration, there is a message.  America has not been trained in listening to the Black experience, so it’s uncomfortable.  It will take careful concentration.  It will require a concerted effort.  But it’s necessary because everyone deserves a voice. #wepreach

When I brush my teeth in the morning, I see my image reflected in the mirror.  Brown skin and a squashed afro.  A sermon or gospel music plays in the background as I prepare for the day.  After my shower, I add my special concoction to the edges of my hair and use a brush to smooth my hair.  I take my head wrap or pantyhose (whichever suits my mood) and pull my hair into it’s signature puff.  I stare at my reflection as I smooth moisturizer onto my skin….my very brown skin.  While I’m prepping, I’m praying.  Praying for guidance…direction…grace.  Because while life is difficult for everyone, it holds special trials for Black Americans.  Wednesday night’s REfresh Bible study was a panel discussion about racism and religion.  I needed it, and you probably do too. The world has been in an uproar since the video of George Floyd’s murder was first viewed.  Riots and looting have erupted everywhere.  There is unrest.  And not just in the streets.  There is unrest in my soul.  And in the souls of others.  Mr. Floyd’s murder was the latest in a long history of atrocities.  “No justice, no peace” has been a battle cry.  I’ve struggled to find peace. Pastor led us to the book of Ephesians 4:26.  “Be angry, and do not sin.”  Much of the world has skipped over the first part and gone straight to the do not sin.  I think it’s important that we look at the first part.  Be angry. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen posts on social media that don’t address the fact that people have the right to be angry.  Anger is a strong emotion and has value.  Things that anger us should propel to action.  I can’t tell you how often I’ve been angry about different situations in life.  Let me tell you, when I get angry…..it’s not pretty.  I have had difficulty knowing how to channel my anger in positive ways.  That is a skill that didn’t come to me naturally.  And honestly, I still do not handle my anger appropriately but I’m trying.  I have the anger part on lock, and the sin not is a work in progress. Remaining in a state of anger is not productive for me.  I have to take that anger and use it in a constructive way.  Two things are not changing.  1. I’m a Christian.  2. I’m a black woman in America.  So, what are my options?  I need practical ways to respond to impractical society. It became apparent that I need to be more informed of my local government infrastructure.  When election time rolls around, I vote.  But I need a better understanding of the function of each office.  Each city has a unique hierarchy.  Being a change agent requires more than my vote.  It means that I need to be involved in the way that my local government functions.  I need to go to meetings that are open to the public.  I can’t afford to be hands off. Even after the anger has cooled, I need to remain consistent.  Those emotions come to the surface for a reason.  If I’m truly tired, I need to make some true changes.  #wepreach

In December of 2019, I had my first experience with group therapy with strangers.  How did I arrive at that juncture in life?  I’m happy to tell you.  My first experience with individual therapy occurred when I was nineteen.  I was finding my place in the world and making choices that my mom thought was not in my best interest.  In her mind, I needed to speak to a professional to sort through my feelings.  She found me a therapist and work began. Over the course of a year, I saw the therapist once a month.  He was a nice man.  However, I didn’t spend my time talking about my personal issues.  I used the sessions as a chance to vent about what was wrong with everyone else in my life.  After a year, I felt that I had served my time.  I moved on with life and decided that therapy was not for me. Fast forward to years later.  Life continued to press on me.  My relationship with my mom and brother was not great.  We needed to find a healthy way to live life together.  Our new family therapist was so helpful that I started to see him individually.  For the next five years, we discussed my family dynamics as well as issues that I needed to address in my personal life.  My therapist was helpful and provided great resources to help me live a healthier life. Therapy was so helpful that I began to seek out more ways to enhance my personal development.  When I was told about Haven, a retreat for adult women who survived childhood sexual abuse, I knew that I needed to go.  But one of the many doubts that nagged in my mind was the thought of participating in group therapy with strangers.  It took me over a decade to reach the point that I could talk about my personal struggles with a therapist.  Exactly how beneficial was group therapy going to be for me? The day of our first group therapy session at retreat arrived, and I was a bundle of nerves.  I didn’t know these people.  What was I expected to say?  Our therapists began the session by pulling out the wheel of emotions.  Before we did anything else, we had to identify how we were feeling.  It was essentially an exercise of being fully present in the moment.  The wonderful thing about this wheel is that it takes an emotion and breaks into various descriptive terms that might more accurately describe your feelings.  For example, anger is broken into critical, frustrated, bitter.  There are more words used in the anger spot but that’s just a tiny sample.  The wheel of emotions alone gave me more than I ever expected out of group therapy with strangers. In that space, I was given the opportunity to really analyze exactly what I felt in a more precise way.  I was asked to take in how I felt physically as well.  Did any part of my body hurt?  Was I tired?  Other people may slow down and take time to fully analyze their entire self (physical, emotional, spiritual) in one instance, but I hadn’t before that moment.  I would tackle them in pieces but never analyze them at the same time.  It was much needed and long overdue.  The wheel of emotions had me letting out lots of emotion.  But after the release, I felt lighter.  I felt freer. I dusted off the old wheel of emotions to check my current state of being.  To really get in tune with where I am spiritually, emotionally, and physically.  I needed to face my emotions head on.  I needed to center myself.  You may be in the same space as me, so I’m attaching the wheel of emotions in hopes that it helps you give voice to the emotions that you’re experiencing.  I’m hopeful that the wheel will turn to brighter days.  #wepreach

At some point earlier this year, I made a commitment to myself that I would exercise four times a week.  I felt that was a reasonable lifestyle change that I could maintain.  I didn’t come to this conclusion on my own.  My friend wanted someone to hold her accountable for her weekly workouts.  I said that I was in need of the same thing and an alliance was formed. Every week, I would make my way to the gym.  Let me just tell you.  There were some ugly days.  If you want me to be honest, I had a couple of days that I drove to the gym after work.  And just sat in my car.  I’d tell myself that I would go in after the song ended.  And wouldn’t you know it?  An even better song would come on as soon as that song ended.  I sat and talked myself out of it on those days.  I cranked my car up and drove myself home. Even with the two days that I turned away and made my way home, I haven’t missed the four times a week goal since this lifestyle change commenced.  It hasn’t been easy, but I’m so glad that it stuck.  Being unemployed for all those weeks was the perfect excuse to stop.  It would have been easy to give in to the temptation to remain on my couch.  There were many days that I had force myself to find a workout on YouTube.  My mind was telling me no, but my body was saying “Girl, we need this!” The consistency has paid off.  My clothes fit better, and my stamina has increased.  If I’m being completely honest, my body is craving more intense workouts.  But that old mind of mine keeps telling me that what I’m doing is sufficient.  It’s more than I’ve ever done for longer than I’ve ever done it.  But…I think I’m ready to up the ante. The race is not given to the swift or the strong but to the one who endures to the end.  As I’m walking this thing out, I’m finding that I actually have endurance.  And I’m not just talking about endurance on a physical level.  This reminds me that if I’m consistent with my prayer life, fasting, and Bible study then I will see results.  I won’t be so easily irritated or agitated.  I will have built up my endurance. Keep me in your prayers.  I’m praying for you.  Consistency is the key that will unlock closed doors.  I know it will transform this old raggedy heart of mine.  #wepreach

Sunday’s sermon took us back to the cross on Good Friday.  Luke 23:32-47 begins with Jesus hanging on Calvary’s cross between two true criminals.  Jesus was scourged, mocked, and ridiculed.  He was wounded for our transgressions.  He was bruised for our iniquities.  He was rebuked and scorned.  Ultimately, he died.  And when the centurion, the Roman soldier, tasked with carrying out this punishment saw the events unfold…he cried out and proclaimed, “Certainly this was a righteous Man!” So, what convinced the centurion that Jesus was who He claimed to be?  Maybe, he was convinced by the way that Jesus maintained His composure on what was surely the worst day of His life.  When I have bad days, I get grumpy.  Everything little thing annoys me and magnifies the intensity of my emotions.  I’m irritable.  I’m unpleasant.  Not so for Jesus on that day.  Although He was in physical pain, He kept it together.  When the literal weight of the world was on His shoulders, Jesus did not lash out.  I don’t know about you but witnessing His reaction to all that was thrown at Him would have made Jesus stand out to me.  My reaction to life’s calamities matters. Jesus’s composure was astounding, but it might not have been the only thing that claimed the centurion’s attention.  He may have also been swayed by the way that Jesus embraced the cross.  When the battalion came to arrest Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane, they asked Jesus to identify Himself.  Jesus declared who He was, and simply speaking His identity had the power to make the crowd fall at His feet.  And then a crazy, terrible, wonderful thing happened.  Jesus told them to get up and arrest Him.  He had his face turned toward Calvary.  He was ready to embrace the cross that He did not deserve.  Without the cross, His work would be left undone.  The cross, though painful, was part of the process. Perhaps the centurion regarded Jesus’s compassion while on the cross as a sure sign that He was the Almighty.  I stated earlier that I can be a grump and grouch when my days are thrown off.  When I’m in pain…..forget about it.  But I haven’t ever experienced physical pain the way that Jesus did that day.  Remember he was whipped.  His back was literally torn open by the beatings that He had endured.  A crown of thorns had been pushed into His skull.  Blood poured from all over His body.  And yet, He found time to minister to the criminal on the cross.  In the midst of excruciating pain, His compassion shone through.  He guaranteed the criminal a spot with Him in paradise that same day. The cross didn’t take Jesus’s power away.  As a matter of fact, the cross lifted Jesus up for the entire world to see.  My life was forever changed by the cross and so was yours.  While on the cross, Jesus cried out with a loud voice.  He set the atmosphere by quoting scripture.  He laid out all that He had to save a dying world.  And we know that the atmosphere must have been right because by the end of this dark day, the centurion exclaimed that “certainly this was a righteous Man!” We are living in dark days.  I have seen atrocities play out before my eyes for all of my life.  It gets discouraging.  I often feel hopeless.  So I need reminders that though the cross is heavy, it doesn’t mean that there is no power in it.  On the other side of Good Friday is Resurrection Sunday.  And I’m convinced that I serve a God who is not through with me, or us, yet.  #wepreach Questions to ponder: What crosses (obstacles, opposition) are you currently experiencing? Do you have a support system in place to help you cope with crosses? If so, how often do you utilize it? If not, would it be beneficial for you to find one? When is the last time that you purposely addressed your mental health? Are you able to find positive and purposeful activities when life’s issues weigh on you?

Babies are the sweetest thing.  They’re innocent.  They make the sweetest faces and sounds.  They take in the great big world with awe and wonder.  And though nothing makes me smile more than these cute little creatures, they also terrify me.  Well, not all babies.  Just the BRAND new ones.  I like my babies with more world experience.  Like at least 3 months old.  Then they’re not as intimidating. Considering my stance on new babies, my next statement may surprise you.  I used to hold babies at the hospital.  I wasn’t a weirdo that stalked the baby unit.  A friend posted on Facebook some years back that hospitals needed volunteers to hold sick babies in the hospital.  Some of the babies were in foster care.  Other babies had families that had to work.  I did some research and discovered that it was indeed a real thing.  I signed up and started the process. The process to be approved is time consuming.  They do criminal background checks.  They check references.  I had a sit-down interview.  They also provided hands on training.  Honestly, it was more intense than any job interview process that I have been through.  Which makes sense.  These are defenseless babies.  And time and time again, we see just how crazy this world can be.  After the process was over, I was released to begin my once a week shift. During training, I began to realize that not only had I volunteered to hold babies, but I volunteered to hold babies in the hospital.  This meant that these kids were more fragile than the typical infant that I shied away from.  What was I thinking?????  My heart was beating rapidly when I walked into the hospital to start my first volunteer shift. The nerves wore off as my shift progressed.  I learned the stories of a couple of kids.  My heart melted.  I sat in the rocking chair and talked to one precious little baby for an hour.  I just rocked and talked….rocked and talked.  I tried to explain the world.  I read books.  I hummed nice songs.  Before I knew it, my first shift had ended.  I clocked out and ventured back into the real world. My baby holding volunteer days were a short season in my life, but they hold a special place in my heart.  My fear of teeny tiny babies decreased dramatically.  My ability to love increased ten-fold.  Those little babies gave me perspective on surviving in a cold and sometimes cruel world.  For all of the millions of reasons to be downtrodden, they give me reason to smile.  The odds were often stacked against them, but time and time again, I saw them survive and thrive.  Those babies were strangers who changed my life.  In reaching out to help them, I really helped myself.  I’m convinced that loving on those who are fragile and hurting and wounded has the power to heal.  Not only the person who is damaged but also the person giving the love.  #wepreach

“Hey Google!  What is the meaning of justice?” Just behavior or treatment “a concern for justice, peace, and genuine respect for people.” Hmmmmm….genuine respect for people.  The black experience is unlike any other experience in America.  We are mistreated, disrespected, feared, and vilified.  And when we point out our reality, people say that we’re doing too much.  We’re speaking too loudly, or we only see the negative.  They get upset when we say that black lives matter.  Listen, we’re upset that we have to keep explaining unjust behavior to people that have eyes. Ya’ll, I started not to even say anything, because I get so fired up.  Do you know how many times I deleted sentences?  I keep asking Jesus to keep me near the cross, because I’m SOOOOO over this.  How often does black America have to say that we can’t breathe before EVERYONE becomes invested in our ability to live? I couldn’t be cute today or even chuckle.  Or be long winded.  I’m praying for the day that the color of my skin doesn’t endanger my livelihood or the lives of my friends and family.  And I’m also seeking guidance from the Holy Spirit about actions that I can take to secure a better future.  We all know that it’s a real problem that has to be addressed.  I get so discouraged when another name becomes a hashtag. I’m tired.  #wepreach

Do you hear that? That…right there.  The still, small voice that’s whispering your name?  It’s the voice of God.  Are you going to answer the call?  Pastor and a panel discussed I Kings 17:8-16 during Wednesday night REfresh, and it BLESSED me.  I’m praying it does the same for you.  Let’s get into it. Elijah, the prophet, has been camping out at the Brook Cherith.  There is a famine in the land.  Every morning and evening, God sends ravens to give Elijah bread and meat.  Elijah drinks freely from the brook.  After some time, the brook dries up.  God tells Elijah to go to Zarapeth, because He has commanded a widow there to provide for Elijah.  Elijah meets the widow just as God said he would. Do you remember that there is a famine in the land?  In those times, the men of the household were the providers.  When they died, care for their widows often fell to their brothers or other males in their families.  Being a widow with no covering was a scary circumstance.  Elijah first asks the woman for a little water in a cup.  Although resources were scarce because of the famine and her widowed status, the woman walks off to comply with his request.  As she goes to get the water, Elijah pushes the envelope and asks her for bread as well. She responds by letting him know that she doesn’t have bread.  And she is out gathering sticks to make a final meal for herself and her son so that they can eat it and die.  Her situation is dire.  But remember God told Elijah that He had commanded the widow woman to provide for Elijah.  God is not a liar.  So why wasn’t the woman jumping at the chance to do as God commanded?  Maybe she didn’t hear that still, small voice because she was dealing with all of the life issues that were on hand.  Depleted resources, daily responsibilities, grief, and raising a son alone surely took up much of her mind.  When faced with what looked like yet another obstacle, the widow woman had a choice.  She chose to listen to the man of God. Her life, and the life of her son, was dependent on her answering her call.  Even though her resources didn’t match up with the request, she decided to follow the instructions.  Because of her choice, the oil and flour in her house did not run out during the famine.  God increased her resources supernaturally.  She didn’t magically get a larger pot of oil or bin of flour.  The ingredients that she had were enough to sustain them.  Listen, if that doesn’t preach I don’t know what will.  God has sustained me throughout this entire COVID-19 situation.  Not by dropping a million dollars on me.  It has been bit by bit.  My oil and flour have not run out!  Excuse me while I run around this house! I’m positive that answering the call on my life has sustained me through this personal famine.  God didn’t command the woman to feed Elijah because God needed her.  The Bible says that God was using birds to do that job before the widow woman came on the scene.  God commanded the woman to feed Elijah, because God wanted to move in the widow woman’s life in a supernatural way.  He wanted to bless her.  Getting involved in God’s plan for your life is the surest way to secure His blessing. The widow woman gave what she had.  It wasn’t much, but she offered it up to be used.  She followed radical instructions from the prophet and received a ridiculous increase.  Her entire life and outlook changed from one encounter. What is God whispering in your ear?  Have you answered the calling that He has on your life?  Before you were formed in your mother’s womb, God knew you and had a plan and purpose for your life.  It’s time to stop ignoring Him.  Even when you think what you have is little, it’s big to God.  He placed gifts inside of you and is expecting you to return to Him empty.  You are to give all the gifts away.  Don’t hold on to them.  Use them.  Will it be easy every day?  No.  But it is always worth it.  I’ve already experienced miracles, signs, and wonders and I have an expectation that more are on the horizon.  Don’t be left out.  Answer the call.  #wepreach

My eye always wanders to expensive items.  Not because of the label on them.  I just have an eye for quality.  For as long as I can remember, my mom has shown me pictures of objects and asked which I prefer.  Though the prices were not included, I tended to prefer the objects that were most expensive. I can’t explain why I like the things that I l like.  I just like them.  I’m going to say that I was born this way.  When I was a baby, I had a sensitive stomach.  Traditional formula was too much for my delicate insides, so I had to use a more expensive formula.  My feet didn’t take kindly to cheaply made shoes.  My family had to invest in footwear that was a little more costly. Having an eye for the finer things is all well and good when you don’t have to pay for it.  Graduate school was my first experience with being a fully functioning adult on a tight budget.  Bible Study Mama was recently divorced.  She kicked this little bird out of the nest, and I had to start flapping really quickly so that I didn’t hit the ground. The transition was not an easy one.  Everywhere I went, I saw things that I wanted but that were out of my price range.  My new cashflow situation inspired change and creativity.  I became a real shopper’s shopper.  Clearance, discount, percent off became my new favorite words.  I mastered the art of getting the look for less. While I do love my thrifty spirit, I had to learn that there are times when the increase in price is warranted.  Quality items cost more because they are made of finer materials.  Of course, there are mark ups in price, but I can spot genuine quality when I see it. My house is great example.  My house wasn’t really appealing to the eye.  The structure was sound, but the previous owners left the house in a real mess.  I had an eye for the type of home that I desired, but it was FAR outside of my price range.  This home had potential, but it was going to take some real work. So, I purchased a home that wasn’t ready to be inhabited.  At least, not by me.  It just didn’t look right.  Aside from the health issue with the moldy bathroom vanity, my uncles and cousins had removed the carpeting.  So, there were cement floors with glue spots.  Nothing appealing. Getting the home to its current status was a process.  I saw a refrigerator that I loved, but it was awfully expensive.  I shopped around and found the exact same refrigerator for a much more reasonable price.  There is a dint in the door.  It’s not perfect but most folks only notice the imperfection if I point it out.  I used my years of shopping experience to piece together this home.  Sometimes, I paid full price.  Other times, I was able to find what I wanted within my price range. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that my eye for the finer things IS hereditary.  God looked down at me and decided that I was worth something.  He could see past my imperfections.  He saw the value in my life.  I was so valuable that He decided to pay the full price.  Jesus paid for my sins on the cross of Calvary. But He didn’t just die for me.  He died for you as well.  He saw the value in you and determined that you were worth the cost.  Yes, you.  I pray that you are encouraged today and can see in yourself what Jesus saw in you.  We don’t get it right all the time, but goodness gracious, He paid the full price. 

Welcome back to “We READS the Bible.”  I was so glad to get out of Job.  The journey between chapter 1 and 42 was intense.  We were deep down in there.  We finally emerged victorious, but we came through with some scars.  We have evidence that we survived a mighty battle.  So glad to be on the other side.  And then, we traveled back to Genesis. Of all the books in the Bible, I know for sure that I’ve read this one.  Unfortunately, I must have read it with one eye open because so many things are sticking out to me as a I read.  Part of my dilemma is probably similar to yours.  My eyes glaze over when I got to genealogy.  You know the family trees.  She gave birth to Zimran, Jokshan, Medan, Midian, Ishbak, and Shuah….that’s the kind of family tree that I’m speaking of.  I usually read the assigned chapters out loud.  It helps me maintain focus. While reading Genesis 26 out loud, I found myself growing concerned.  I was experiencing déjà vu.  To be fair, I was reading my chapters late in the evening.  I had let the entire day go by without focusing on the day’s reading.  Ya’ll know that if it’s late, I get sleepy.  So I thought that maybe I was dozing off and talking in my sleep.  I do that too.  Anyway, the point is that I wasn’t going crazy.  I was experiencing déjà vu, because the scriptures that I was reading had already happened earlier in Genesis. In Genesis 26, Isaac is facing a famine.  Isaac, for those who don’t know, is the son of Abraham and Sarah.  Yes, I’m talking about the Isaac that was going to be sacrificed on the mountain, but God provided a ram in the bush.  That Isaac.  He now has a family of his own.  When famine occurs, he moves to a different region to provide for his family.  Can’t blame him.  When he arrives there, the men in the land ask about his wife, Rebekah.  The Bible says that Rebekah is beautiful, so it’s understandable that the men would ask about her.  They want to know if she’s fair game.  There is a new hot chick in town.  And here enters my déjà vu.  Isaac says that Rebekah is his sister. Earlier in Genesis, Abraham had experienced famine as well.  He too had moved his family to a new land.  The men there were intrigued by Sarah’s beauty and asked about her status.  Was she single, married, divorced, or it’s complicated?  And Abraham replied that Sarah was his sister.  Not once, but on two separate occasions. So, what’s so profound about this to me?  The power and weight that cycles have on our lives.  Isaac was not even born when Abraham told those lies, but the thought process had weight that carried over into his generation.  Did Abraham sit and tell Isaac about those situations to help him steer clear, or did Isaac just instinctively go there?  I’m not sure.  I do know that the Bible says that Isaac told the lie because Rebekah was so fine that he feared the men would kill him if they knew she was his wife.  She must have been some kind of beautiful. This made me think of the cycles that have gone through my family from generation to generation.  I’m the first one not to be a teen mother but other cycles have reared their heads.  Sitting and talking with my grandmother about her faith journey opened my eyes.  So, many of the things that she experienced have happened to me.  Maybe not to the same degree, but they exist.  Talking to my mother has had the same affect on me as well.  Cycles. The great news is that we don’t have to keep cycles going.  We have to be intentional about living the best we can.  Ya’ll reading this Bible has been taking me down through there.  It’s necessary medicine, but it doesn’t always taste good going down.  I know the more that I dive in, the better I become.  We got this!  #wepreach

Sunday’s sermon was full of meat.  I suppose it’s appropriate since today is Memorial Day.  Traditionally, people have family reunions over the holiday weekend.  They gather for fellowship…and food.  Lots of it.  Get your plates, forks, knives and napkins out ya’ll.  The sermon recap will have you chewing on this meat for a while. We are continuing our journey through II Kings with the prophet Elisha.  The sermon highlighted II Kings 6:1-7.  Forget reality TV.  We have “The Real Prophets of the Old Testament.”  Today’s text lands us smack dab in the middle of a dilemma.  The sons of the prophets (remember them from earlier in the season with the poisoned stew drama….if not, go back to previous sermon recaps) talk to Elisha.  Their ministry is growing, and they’ve outgrown the place that they are living in.  Let’s park right here for just a minute.  I applaud these men for recognizing that their present atmosphere is too small.  It’s incredibly easy to get complacent.  Ask all of the too little clothes that I’ve attempted to squeeze into.  I acknowledge the need for change in clothing size, but I’m reluctant to purchase the size that will be a better fit.  Getting clothes that fit properly makes so much sense, but I would have to accept that I’ve outgrown my current situation.  Thankfully, the sons of the prophets are wise.  After recognizing the tight fit, they make an informed decision to consult with the man of God about their next move.  Although they had outgrown the space, they had not outgrown the need for covering.  Elisha tells them that they can go and honors their request that he go with them. The work is just beginning.  They all get to the Jordan River and begin cutting down trees to help build their new home.  Each man has a role.  Each man matters.  As one man was cutting, his axe head fell off.  And this was no ordinary axe head.  This was an iron axe head….which means it was valuable.  So what did he do when his axe head fell off while he was working? How did he respond when he realized that he just wasn’t cutting it anymore?  He stopped swinging. Clearly, this son of the prophets had some good sense.  He didn’t look around to see if anyone would notice that his axe head fell off.  He didn’t continue to sing the tree chopping song with everyone else while he beat his tree with a stick.  His axe was not effective.  He couldn’t get his work done.  He had lost his edge. I don’t think he’s alone.  Many times in ministry, we stop being effective.  We do the same thing the same way…even when it’s not reaching the lost.  Even when it’s not reaching the found.  We become complacent and forget the value of our anointing and our callings.  Honey, our axe heads fall off and we just keep swinging.  Making lots of noise and no progress. As soon as the axe head falls off, the man calls out to Elisha.  He’s lost the axe head, and he needs it back.  See, not only has the axe head fallen off, but it wasn’t his in the first place.  He borrowed it and wants to return it whole.  Listen, that alone will preach.  Ya’ll the gifts and anointings that we have aren’t ours anyway.  They’re given to us by God.  So, it’s imperative that we take great care of them.  If your ministry is falling off, don’t just keep swinging.  Pray about it.  Seek Godly counsel.  Don’t just keep doing the same thing when you see no results.  We serve a God of miracles, signs, and wonders.  He didn’t reserve those for Bible days.  They are promised to us right now.  But are we sharp enough to believe God for them? Elisha did what Elisha does when introduced to a dilemma.  The man of God used the power of God to make the iron float.  The axe head came to the surface of the river.  The man picked it up for himself.  His edge was restored.  He could get back to work. When we accept Jesus Christ, He gives us our axe.  He wants us to be hearers AND doers of the Word.  There is plenty of work to be done.  And the world is waiting for you to pick up your axe and get to swinging.  What is your axe head looking like today?  Is it dull from striking objects that it was never meant to hit?  Is it as sharp as the day that you got it because you’ve never used it?  Do you even know where it is?  We can’t afford to lose our edge.  Eternity is at stake.  #wepreach Since you’re already eating, chew on these questions:  Are you an active member of a ministry? Ministry does not necessarily mean a formal group within a church. You may volunteer at the soup kitchen once a month or knit blankets that you give to nursing homes. Your ministry is whatever God called you to do and can cover the boardroom to the grocery store. How many people have accepted Christ as a result of your ministry? If the answer is none, have you taken time to evaluate your ministry? Are you open to constructive criticism? If the answer is one or more, how do you deal with people after they accept Christ? Do you check in with them periodically? Are you intentional about sharing Jesus Christ with others? Why or why not?

Whether ya’ll realize it or not, WE are journeying through the Bible together this year.  As I read more, I have more questions.  I have more thoughts.  I’m intrigued.  I decided to do a chronological Bible plan, so we are going to bounce around through these books.  It’s not a straight shot from Genesis to Revelation.  Did ya’ll get some snacks for this journey?  A good trip always has great snacks.  We’re going to get through this thing together whether you like it or not.  Honestly honey, whether I like it or not. Before I go further, I’m going to tell ya’ll a quick story.  When I first started working as a Speech-Language Pathologist, I had a job with a travel therapy company.  I would take an assignment with them for nine months and then spend the summers at home in Arkansas with my family.  I decided that I would pick up some contract work while I was back home.  Nothing full time or even part time.  I just wanted to make a little extra money. My friends back home in Arkansas gave me a few possible job leads.  None of them panned out.  While still in Houston, I found an advertisement online for  a summer position in Arkansas.  I reached out to the lady, and she told me to contact her when I made it in town.  After speaking with the lady, I applied for a license to practice my profession in the state of Arkansas.  Since I hadn’t worked in Arkansas, I didn’t need a license previously.  My job paid for my license in each state that I worked in.  I didn’t want to come out of pocket if it wasn’t necessary.  I had a great feeling about this job though.  Even if I only worked a couple of hours that summer, it would at least cover the cost of the license. My assignment ended in Houston.  I placed my life in storage there and traveled back home to Arkansas for the summer.  I contacted the lady, and she made plans for me to come to her facility that week.  When I arrived, she greeted me enthusiastically.  She whisked me through the facility and out back to the house where speech therapy was usually conducted.  She showed me all of the evaluations and testing protocols.  And then she told me to wait right there. The longer I sat there, the more uneasy I became.  I had time to observe the activities in the facility.  I was able to hear the way that she spoke to the teachers.  I heard the way that she spoke to the children AND the way that she spoke to employees on the phone.  Side note: My hearing is pretty great.  It has been honed into a finely tuned skill over the years because of my natural nosiness.  My college roommate would tell me that I had the TV volume turned to whisper.  It didn’t have to be that loud.  I could hear it just fine.  Back to my story though.  The point is that I didn’t like the way that she was talking to people.  I didn’t address my concerns in front of everyone.  I spoke to her in her office about my thoughts.  She responded very LOUDLY that “We reads the Bible around here.”  Ummmmm….okay…..I never said that you didn’t.  But I definitely knew that I wouldn’t be spending any parts of my summer in that environment.  If that was the atmosphere created as a result of the reading the Bible, I wanted no parts of it.  I didn’t work at all that summer.  I just enjoyed my time with my family. Now it’s a running joke with me and Bible Study Cousin.  Honey, we reads the Bible around here.  It doesn’t mean that I’m going to get it right all the time, but it definitely means that I’m striving.  So, we’re all going to read the Bible around here.  We’re going to ask the questions that need to be asked.  We’re going to discover parts of the Bible that we never knew existed, and we’re going to have fun doing it.  #22 on my birthday list is in action.  #wepreach

Once upon a time, travel was my middle name.  I made it my mission to get on a cruise ship headed somewhere at least once each calendar year.  Sometimes, I would hit the open seas twice in a year.  It just depended on how the year was flowing.  Although cruising is not the only way that I travel, I do like it a lot. I was sitting out on the balcony of our cabin with Bible Study Cousin.  We were being quiet.  Just two girls looking out at that vast ocean.  Nothing but water for miles and miles around.  I was looking at the clouds.  I was looking for dolphins.  I was looking at the waves.  And then something else caught my attention. I could have sworn that I saw a bird.  I looked to see if there was an island nearby that this bird could have possibly come from.  At that point, it was just a glimpse of the bird out of the corner of my eye.  I stopped looking for clouds, dolphins, and waves.  My focus switched to finding this bird.  There it was again!  Soaring over the ocean waves.  Wings spread wide for quite a distance and then…it nosed dived into the ocean. I’m sure that I gasped quietly to myself.  Ya’ll know I’m dramatic.  I didn’t want to disturb Bible Study Cousin and her book reading, but this was disturbing to me!  I counted silently to myself.  Would this bird be able to emerge from the water?  Did it have a death wish?  As I focused on the waves, I was able to see a different bird emerge from the depths of the sea.  He coasted for a long time and then went back under water.  I couldn’t hold my peace any longer! “Did you see those birds flying out the water?”  “Yup!”  We then had to try to figure out what was going on.  I let her know that I had struggled with even saying anything, but the whole ordeal was weirding me out.  We wondered if flying fish were a thing.  And if flying fish WERE indeed a thing, why had it taken us so long to notice them?  (Side note:  You can purchase access to the internet while on a cruise ship, but my goal is to GET AWAY from my regular life.  I use those seven days to spend time with the people that I’m on vacation with.  So, Google was not an option to settle this debate.  Now back to our regularly scheduled blog.)  Like I stated previously, we are ALL about cruise life.  That wasn’t our first time sitting on a balcony looking at the ocean.  But it was our first time seeing these creatures. When we got back to life, back to reality, back to the here and now, yeah, we Googled flying fish.  And our minds were expanded!  Or blown.  Flying fish are indeed real.  You can Google them yourself if you’d like to learn more about these fascinating creatures.  Why did I go into such depth to talk about these amazing animals?  My devotional challenged me to meditate on the greatness of God’s wonderful works, and these fish instantly came to mind.  God is so creative.  Not only is He creative, but His creations boggle the mind.  Forget flying fish.  He thought enough of me to create me.  He thought enough of you to create you. Thinking of the complexities of the human body is enough to leave me frazzled, but He knit each cell in our bodies together.  He created us in His image and likeness.  What a wonderful work!  He could have made anything, and yet He took time to mold me out of the dirt.  The even better news is that He’s not finished with us yet.  Every day, He can mold us and make us into a more fascinating representative of Him.  But we have to be willing.  We have to withstand the process.  Because when He’s done with us, people will be looking at us just like I was looking at the fish on the balcony.  They will have never seen anything like us.  #wepreach

Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.  For if anyone thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.  But let each one examine his own work, and then he will have rejoicing in him himself alone, and not in another.  For each one shall bear his own load. Galatians 6:2-5 Life gets heavy sometimes.  We get burdened with the cares of this world.  Sometimes it IS too much for us to handle alone.  Sometimes, we do need a helping hand.  During Wednesday night’s REfresh session, Pastor gave us some insight on how to effectively carry the weight. Galatians 6:2 admonishes us to bear one another’s burdens.  The Greek word for burden in this verse means “excess burdens.”  These are the big problems in life that weigh us down.  These are the things that crush us.  These are the things that make it hard to stand up under the weight.  The tragedies that hit us unexpectedly and bring us to our knees.  COVID-19 is a perfect example of an excess burden.  We didn’t see it coming.  People all over the world have been impacted in a major way.  As believers in Christ, we have an obligation to help others when life is overwhelming them.  We shouldn’t have to be pressured into it because others are watching.  Our natural inclination should be to help lift the load.  When we work together to lift these burdens, it’s light work.  Team work makes the dream work.  The person is able to go on a little while longer. The funny thing is that often people that carry these tremendous burdens don’t have the strength or the will to ask for help.  Life can end up crushing them.  One burden that hits closely to home for me is when a family experiences a death.  When the death first occurs, scores of people show up.  They offer condolences.  They give food and money.  As time goes on, people go about their daily lives.  And when the crowds leave….when the months go on…depression can set in.  Now I realize that we can’t be everything to everybody.  That stretches us thin.  But I do believe that we can be more intentional about lifting those who have had crushing blows.  A weekly call to check in.  A quick text to say that you care.  A sit down visit to see their face and hear their voice in person.  A surprise bouquet of flowers to brighten their day and help lift the load. As you read further in the verses, you come upon verse 5 which says that each one should bear his own load.  Wait a minute.  We all should bear our OWN load.  I just used I don’t know how many words to tell you that we should help one another, and a few verses later it seems to contradict itself.  But it really doesn’t.  The Greek word used for load in verse 5 means “the burden of daily toil.”  You know, your everyday responsibilities.  These are the things that are common to everyone.  We’re responsible for taking care of them even if they require effort.  Pastor reminded me that my devotional time, my prayer time, and my fasting are parts of my daily toil.  My finances, spiritual life, mental state, and physical health are all parts of my daily toil as well.  They don’t flourish effortlessly, but I am responsible for making sure that they are attended to. The daily toils fit in a backpack that we carry on our backs.  Although they definitely can become heavy, they are weights that we have to walk around with every day.  Just from personal experience, I had to learn how to remove unnecessary weights.  Growing up with a helping family had me taking daily toils out of others backpacks and adding them to my own.  I was NOT helping to lighten an excess burden.  I was taking on weights that were never meant for me to carry.  As a result, the people that I was “helping” weren’t growing stronger, because their backpacks weren’t properly weighted to challenge their muscles.  And I was standing still because I couldn’t move under the weight of their daily toils AND mine. If my backpack had only contained the toils that I was meant to carry, I would have had the strength to run to the aid of those who are experiencing excess burdens.  My muscles would have matured to the point that I could carry the weight that was assigned to me.   Certainly over the past 8 months, God has had me in a season where He asked me to prioritize Him.  I haven’t done it perfectly, but I have been intentional about seeking His face.  I’m 100% sure that it has helped me through this time.  I thank God for the people who reached out to help ease my excess burdens during this time as well.  Ya’ll we can all thrive and prosper when we learn how to carry the weight.  #wepreach

These days, I have time on my hands.  I can walk leisurely around my home.  Although, I don’t do that often…LOL.  I alternate my time between the dining area/couch/bedroom.  My increased time on my couch has placed me within eyeshot of my vision boards.  After I crafted the boards, I placed them beside my front door.  I wanted to see them every day before I left the house.  You know, back when I went to work. A single phrase jumps out at me from those boards every day. “Know the difference between a want and a need.”  Ya’ll let me tell you.  If I have learned nothing else in this season, I have definitely learned the difference between the two.  I’ve shared before that I felt God leading me to downscale my lifestyle.  And, I started that process back in October.  Key word: started. Unfortunately, I didn’t jump in with both feet.  I dipped a toe in the water.  I stopped ordering items on Amazon every week.  I stopped going inside of Target, because I knew that I would walk out with bag after bag.  It’s one of my favorite stores, and they always have the cutest things.  I no longer looked in Kirkland’s to see if I could justify spending more money.  Instead of spending money on décor, eating out, or clothing, I switched my focus.  At that time, I really NEEDED to switch my focus to paying off my debt.  I didn’t.  The focus switched to spending money to build my skills for a new business venture.  I was still spending money though.  Although I felt the Lord leading me to my business, He didn’t tell me to incur more debt.  His instruction to me was to downscale.  Dipping that toe in the water didn’t help me as much as I thought it had. The beginning of 2020 brought me more into focus.  I wanted what God wanted for me.  I was committed to being intentional with my finances.  I jumped in with both feet.  I was on track!  The plan was working…and then…corona.  And all the plans that I had were out of the window. If you go back and reread what I just wrote, you’ll see that the word “my” is used quite often.  The reality is that I didn’t get what I needed until my wants lined up with God’s wants for me.  Maybe you don’t know this about me, but I’m stubborn.  Opinionated.  And I can be both of those with a smile on my face and a pleasant demeanor.  Although strength is needed to get through life, it can also keep you from experiencing God’s best. So, what do I want now?  Peace.  To walk in my purpose.  To live debt free.  Health.  Health for family and friends.  An intimate relationship with Jesus Christ.  Time with family.  Actually….I want whatever God wants for me.  And I need whatever God has for me.  Even when it doesn’t feel good. My cousin sent a work prayer to us this morning, and it blessed me.  It was the very thing that I needed and no clue that I wanted.  Since the prayer blessed me, I thought that it would be nice to pray for you all.  Here goes… Lord, I’m thankful for this day.  Thank you for opening my eyes this morning and giving us a brand-new day, full of brand-new mercies.  Thank you for watching over us.  Thank you for protecting us from ourselves.  Thank you for protecting us from spiritual attacks.  You are more than enough, and we have more than enough when we trust You.  Please guide us and show us that what we need is in You. We just have an expectation that You will us show where we need to be.  Help us to be light in a dark world.  Continue to exceed every expectation that we’ve ever had.  The atmosphere is just right for miracles, signs, and wonders, and we’re in position for You to do your mighty works.  We love you!  Amen!  #wepreach

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.  Do not be wise in your own eyes; Fear the Lord and depart from evil.  It will be health to your flesh and strength to your bones.  Proverbs 3:5-8 Just the other morning, I woke up with the phrase “in all your ways acknowledge Him” running through my brain.  I thought about it while I brushed my teeth.  It repeated in my head as I used my face scrub.  Since it wasn’t leaving, I figured it was something that I needed to give weight to. My girl cousins and I had a Bible study group at the beginning of 2020.  We met once a week to discuss insights from the study that we collectively chose.  Of course, food was always involved.  After a delicious meal, we would dive into the word of God.  The study that we used had a heavy focus on the book of Proverbs. Although many popular verses come from Proverbs, I wasn’t aware of just how much insight the book provides.  When I searched for the phrase “in all your ways acknowledge Him,” I was smack dab in the middle of this book that nudged me to seek wisdom.  After we completed our cousin study, my personal study took a vacation as well.  Even though Proverbs had made me search within myself, I put it to the side.  Maybe this nudging was a way to renew my focus. I continued to read past Proverbs 3:5-6 because the verses that followed were highlighted from my time in cousin Bible study.  I don’t need to be wise in my own eyes, huh?  I’m in a season of uncertainty.  I don’t know what to do, and I need guidance.  Duh…it’s written here in black and white.  I need to acknowledge God in all that I do, and He will direct my path.  Okay…actually not duh.  I see the words, but how do I make that live?  It would help if I beefed up my prayer life and study time.  Y’all I have no excuse for having such an unbalanced prayer life right now.  While I do give myself grace, I also make a lot of excuses.  I constantly try to make sense of situations that just don’t make sense.  I know that I’m not the only one that struggles from this phenomenon.  These verses shifted my focus.  They stopped my mind from reeling and worrying-for the moment.  I have good days and bad days, however, I have realized that my good days occur more frequently when I pray and seek God’s face. My prayer for us all is that we have health in our flesh and strength in our bones.  We have access to the wisdom that will get us there.  We just need to study it.  #wepreach

Across the nation, government officials are wrestling with the safest way for us to re-enter society.  Some are in rush to get things “back to normal.”  Here in Arkansas, the cases continue to climb daily.  Hopefully, we will see a decrease soon.  Sunday’s sermon challenged us to stay where we are and not come out.  Not in reference to quarantine but in regard to our spiritual lives.  What am talking about?  We’ll get into the sermon recap. Sunday’s sermon had us returning to II Kings and the prophet Elisha.  In II Kings 5:7-14, we read the story of Naaman.  Naaman is a captain of the guard.  And he has a serious problem.  Leprosy covers his body.  He wants relief from his affliction.  The king of Israel sends Naaman to see Elisha.  We have previously seen God work through Elisha.  What will be the outcome this time? Naaman is a man of importance. Naaman takes his impressive horses and chariots and rides to Elisha’s home.  Once he arrives at Elisha’s home, Naaman gets out of the chariot and stands at Elisha’s door.  And….Elisha doesn’t come out.  Instead, Elisha sends a messenger to tell Naaman how he can receive healing and relief from the condition that pains him.  The messenger tells Naaman to go wash in the Jordan seven times and his flesh will be restored. Naaman did not take well to Elisha staying inside.  He was actually furious.  See Naaman, like many of us, had preconceived notions of what his healing would entail.  He had come all of this way to see Elisha, and Elisha hadn’t even taken the time out to come see Naaman face to face.  Naaman anticipated that Elisha would have come out, called on the name of the Lord, waved his hands and healed him.  He could not comprehend the audacity that Elisha displayed in sending a messenger instead of performing an elaborate ritual.  Naaman had confused audacious performances with authentic power.  He almost allowed his attraction to charismatic personalities to keep him from the person of Jesus Christ.  And it’s easy to fall into that trap.  We love the sound of a particular person’s voice.  Nobody else can sing that song.  No one else hits the notes on the organ like Brother Johnson.  We get caught up in personalities and forget the true center of our worship, Jesus Christ.  Elisha didn’t come out.  His act would insure that all glory, honor, and praise would go to the One who deserved it. I mentioned earlier that Naaman was furious.  He was so furious that he decided to leave.  You know how some Christians don’t come to church if an associate minister is preaching.  Yes, Naaman needed healing, but it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.  Thankfully, one of his servants stopped him and talked some sense into him.  The servant pointed out that Elisha hadn’t requested that Naaman do something outrageous.  It would have been a shame to come this close to healing and walk away. Naaman listens.  He puts his pride to the side and dips his body in the Jordan.  He dipped once, but he couldn’t come out.  The process wasn’t complete.  So, he stayed.  He dipped six more times in the river.  There was no magic trick.  Naaman had to stick with it.  He didn’t come out until his flesh was restored, and he was clean. And that’s a lesson for us.  We don’t need to come out until God has finished His work in us.  Is that frustrating at times?  Absolutely.  God’s ways don’t always line up with our preconceived notions of how life should pan out.  Our breakthrough and deliverance is not always going to be instantaneous.  Often, He takes us through a long process that requires patience and persistence.  We only reap the benefits if we don’t come out.  #wepreach Let’s evaluate your current state: Name an area of your life that is in need of healing. Are you ready to address the issue? What steps have you taken to begin the healing process? Have you prayed about it? Have you discussed it with Christian friends? How long are you willing to live with disease, whether it’s physical, emotional, financial, or spiritual?

Cooking has long been a passion of mine.  I suppose it started with me helping my great-grandmother in the kitchen.  Although, I really don’t know how much help I was.  She didn’t use measuring cups, but she’d let me throw in the flour when she was making biscuits.  All the ingredients were mixed by hand.  No fancy mixer.  And her biscuits were always delicious. My grandmother inherited her mother’s savvy in the kitchen.  I have always looked forward to meals cooked by her.  She was patient with me and answered my questions.  I always had a ton of them.  I wanted to bottle her methods.  She also inherited her mother’s techniques of measuring ingredients.  I was supposed to add ingredients until it looked “right.”  Can you understand why I had so many questions?  LOL.  The summer that she helped me pat out and season hamburgers and cook them in the skillet was EVERYTHING!  No one could tell me anything.  I was on my way to becoming a top chef. I was so into my love for cooking that I decided that I needed professional help.  I was a teenager at this point.  The closest professional help within my budget was home economics at school.  I was all in.  But the crazy thing about home ec was that my teacher did not use the methods that my family used.  We followed recipes.  Like, we used measuring cups AND measuring spoons.  Hmmmm….. The food tasted alright.  It wasn’t spectacular.  It wasn’t bad.  Just alright.  In class, I was the model student.  I stayed on task.  I followed the recipes as printed.  I would then recreate the recipes at home.  At first, I followed the recipes.  And then…..my genes took over.  I would add a pinch of this or a dash of that.  Before you knew it, the recipes became my own.  I had arrived at the stage of my life where I added until it looked “right.” As Christians, we are called to be Christ-like.  While there are definitely standards that we should uphold, I don’t believe that means that we have to be robotic in our lives.  We don’t have to be so rigid.  God is creative and innovative.  He is dynamic.  Sometimes, we get caught up in being just alright and not spectacular.  We don’t want to stand out or be too flavorful. But if we think about it, nobody raves about food that’s just alright.  When we accept who we are in Christ, we become better than alright.  We become appetizing to those that are still in the world.  They want to know what is going on in our lives that makes us so appealing.  It took time for me to get into the groove. To discover who I truly am in Christ.  To embrace the spice that He added to me to get me just “right.”  #wepreach

I have mentioned before that I don’t always make the best decisions.  I can be rash.  When a thought pops into my head, I’ll just do it.  No time to ask for others opinions or get wise counsel.  I run.  I leap.  And sometimes I fall.  Notice, I didn’t say my thought came from the Lord.  I don’t spend time with God to see if that’s His will for my life.  I just move. The thought of wise counsel and having a great support team came to me while I’m reading through Job.  Yes, Job and I are still going through it together.  He’s sitting around with his friends, and a younger cat, Elihu, speaks up.  Elihu has listened to all of the older men give Job advice.  He’s remained hopeful that one of them will hit the mark.  And they keep missing it.  So, he speaks up. I do not doubt that someone young can give me wise counsel.  My bestie has been the wise voice for me since I was in my twenties.  We were talking about our younger days just the other day.  Now, I know that she already knew what I was talking about.  She said she didn’t realize just how complex the situation was at the time.  And then she repeated one of her famous lines. “For somebody that’s so scary, you sure did some scary stuff.”  Listen ya’ll, I laughed so hard that I almost cried.  I told you that I run and leap. She’s not the only one who provides wise counsel for me.  Sweet Baby drops gems all the time.  She is inquisitive and has an interesting view of the world.  I admire her ability to see the good in people.  I love her energy and enthusiasm.  And when I least expect it, she leaves me with a thought to chew on.  She will say something that challenges my limited thinking. My grandma is also a great sounding board.  She cuts straight to the chase.  Maybe when you’re older, you don’t have time for the fluff.  She gives me meat that I can chew on.  I suppose that I’m a big girl.  It’s time for me to stop drinking milk from a bottle anyway. Wise counsel is very important and often missing in our lives.  They are not the only people that have spoken into my life.  Bible Study Cousin is always telling me that I don’t listen to her.  Wise counsel is all around me.  I’m doing better with listening.  Before you get up in arms, I know that God is our source.  I realize that the Holy Spirit leads and guides.  We just have to be willing to listen and follow.  I also know that the circle that we surround ourselves with can have a tremendous impact on our lives.  Look at Job in the midst of the hardest hard spot ever and surrounded by friends that don’t get it.  Hopefully, you have a circle of friends that extend grace.  That can pray with and for you.  That can provide you with wise counsel.  #wepreach

Whoever has no rule over his own spirit is like a city broken down, without walls. Proverbs 25:28 NKJV Wednesday was Ladies Night for REfresh Bible Study.  The fellas got to have a week off while we gathered to reconnect and be refreshed.  While we often discuss taking our masks off as believers, last night focused on the benefits of keeping our masks on.  COVID-19 has descended upon the world, and the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) recommends that we use face masks and practice social distancing when outside of our homes.  The masks protect us from this unseen enemy and protect others from possible infection from us.  The three-woman panel each shared their thoughts on the benefits of masks in a spiritual and practical sense. Masks offer us protection.  Proverbs 25:28 cautions us to have rule over our own spirit.  It compares a city without walls to our unguarded spirits.  Walls around a city protect the inhabitants from invaders.  When the walls fall, everyone inside is vulnerable to attack.  The same is true of our spirits.  We are charged with being mindful of what we allow into our spirits.  We can’t be lazy.  We have to protect our spirits and be intentional with feeding ourselves with God’s word.  It protects us from wayward thinking. Masks are also covering.  I don’t know about ya’ll but wearing my mask in public can get uncomfortable.  I’m breathing all of this hot recycled air.  I long for the time that I can get back to the safety of my own home and take the mask off.  But even though the mask can be uncomfortable, it is necessary for my health.  How does that apply to our spiritual lives?  We need God’s covering to keep us safe.  But sometimes that covering is uncomfortable for us.  It makes us realize that we’re not in control.  Even though remaining under God’s covering is best for us, we can fight it.  We want to do things our own way. Then we got a breakdown of the mask.  We learned what masks are made of, how well they fit us, and which filters are appropriate.  The fit of the mask stood out to me.  The last time that I was in the grocery store I saw the most peculiar things.  People were walking around with their masks on but had their noses sticking out.  Not just one person.  More than I could count on my hands.  The fit was not right.  It really wasn’t doing much good.  Sometimes, we get ourselves into situation that don’t fit us.  The situation may not necessarily harmful to us, but it really doesn’t fit.  We have to adjust and move ourselves into situations that are a better fit for where we are in life. Listen, ladies night was packed full of powerful word.  I could really write a novel about it.  But I won’t.  Keep your masks on folks!  #wepreach

But when I looked for good, evil came to me; and when I waited for light, then came darkness. Job 30:26 Pray for me ya’ll.  Nothing’s wrong.  I’m just reading the book of Job.  Some of you may remember that I created a list of 37 things that I wanted to accomplish in my 37th year of life.  Number 22 was read through the entire Bible.  I found a devotional on YouVerse that lets you read the Bible in chronological order.  It intrigued me, so I started the plan.  And now I’m stuck in Job. Stuck is a nice way of putting it.  I have heard the story of Job throughout my life.  Satan is walking back and forth on the earth.  Looking for a nice test subject.  He’s determined that we feeble humans only love God because of how good He is to us.  Then God asks Satan if he’s considered Job.  Job is an upright man that loves God.  God gives Satan permission to do what he will, but he cannot take Job’s life.  Wellllllllll…it gets real after that. All of Job’s children are killed.  His servants are murdered (except for the one that lives to tell the tale).  His livestock, which is his wealth, is all gone as well.  This doesn’t happen over a period of time.  It happens in one day.  As soon as he gets one bad report, another servant arrives with life changing news.  Job’s reaction is natural.  He tears his clothes.  He goes into mourning. Before I read the book of Job for myself, I didn’t really consider how long he mourned.  I did not really ponder the length of his trial, because I knew the end of his story.  It worked out for him in the end.  But reading his personal torment gave me new insight.  It goes bad for Job in chapter 1.  He doesn’t get restored until chapter 42! Ya’ll!!!!  Listen…. I needed this read.  Not for the sake of comparison of trials and hardships in life.  I needed to read this to understand that I may never know why life hits me so hard sometimes.  I needed to read this to know that God can use every pain to deliver me to a place of promise.  But that doesn’t mean it will be quick.  And it doesn’t mean that it hurt any less than it would for someone else. Job is an upright man.  He’s not perfect, but he lives a life that focuses on pleasing God.  He operates from a spirit of integrity, and yet, tragedy found him.  Does he get depressed during his trial? Yes!!!  Does he feel hopeless at times?  Absolutely.  Honestly in the part that I’m currently reading, he reminds me of myself.  He’s trying to make sense of a situation that’s beyond his control.  And I want to reach back thousands of years and let him know that it will be alright. Since I can’t time travel and tell Job, I’ll tell you.  Ya’ll we don’t know how long our trials will last.  We can try to make sense out of senseless situations.  We can drive ourselves crazy.  And we have the right to do those things.  But we also have the opportunity to fully trust that God has a plan for us.  Even when it feels so hopeless.  I’m glad that I’m diving into this Word.  It’s helping me.  But don’t forget to pray for me because I’m not at chapter 42 yet.  It gets hard in the in-between.  #wepreach

Nineteen years have passed since I walked across the stage at high school graduation.  It was a big deal to me.  My family came from all around to celebrate the day with me.  My church family arrived in the stands with a big sign.  They cheered me on and made the day even more special.  At the end of the ceremony, we all gathered in a big circle and tossed our caps.  Let me be honest.  I threw mine just a little and then caught it.  The night marked the ending of my public school education and the beginning of instruction taught by the school of life.  The class of 2020 is having a completely different experience. They have missed out on many of the senior year experiences that we all look forward to.  No prom.  No baccalaureate. No senior skip day (or you could call this the longest senior skip day in history).  No formal graduation ceremony with all their friends and family.  A real tragedy.  So many kids are the first ones in their families to make it through high school and get a diploma.  Although they do get to graduate without the ceremony, the graduation ceremony is a highlight for many people. My cousin is one of the 2020 seniors.  Since Bible Study Cousin and I are planners, we consulted with him at Thanksgiving (or Christmas…can’t be sure which it was).  We asked him his thoughts about his graduation party.  We wanted to know if there was anything special that he wanted to happen.  You know what this jive turkey said?  He said family was not invited to his graduation party.  We would mess up the vibe.  Then he pointed out all the cool cousins that would be granted access at the door.  Let me just tell you, they were NOT the cool cousins. Even though he deemed us geriatric, we still planned to celebrate with him.  It’s what we do.  As the COVID-19 epidemic continued, it became clear that his graduation ceremony was not going to happen.  Bible Study Cousin suggested a surprise drive by graduation celebration parade.  She got to work on logistics.  I pulled out the posters and markers.  Operation Graduation Parade was a go. We gathered together on the school parking lot to line up.  We walked up and down the row making sure that every car had decorations, and then we were off.  I’ve told you before that people in our family can’t hold water.  So the cat was out of the bag before we ever got there, BUT he had an amazing time.  I think we all did.  We got to celebrate him and see each other.  I think this is the longest that we’ve ever gone without physically gathering together in one place. Life is funny like that.  We take simple things for granted.  I couldn’t have ever imagined a world where high school graduations were cancelled nationwide.  I’m thankful that we still had the opportunity to celebrate our senior.  I am learning to appreciate more and more moments.  Hopefully, you can come out of quarantine with more clarity about what is important.  I know that I certainly am.  #wepreach

The Holy Bible is a living Word.  You can read the same scripture and get a new revelation each time you read it.  The words don’t change, but you do.  As you grow and learn more as a Christian, your understanding enhances.  Our sermon recap comes from a sermon that Pastor preached at a different church.  He has preached from Ruth 1 before, but this message left me with an enhanced understanding.  Let’s get into it. He began the sermon by saying that the book of Ruth is a book of redemption.  And not so much about Ruth’s redemption.  More so about Naomi’s redemption.  In chapter 1, Naomi’s husband, Elimelech, moves the family from Bethlehem to Moab.  Now, the name Bethlehem means “House of Bread.”  So why would they leave their home and go to a foreign land?  Well, the “house of bread” was experiencing a famine.  Elimelech wanted relief for his wife Naomi and their two sons.  I can’t fault him for feeling a little desperate and taking action.  From a practical sense, every man wants to provide for their family.  When famines occur, our natural inclination is to do whatever is necessary to feel relief.  From a spiritual sense, we can experience famine in a number of ways.  We may be stressed from our jobs, kids, or husbands.  We have to get rid of the anxiety some way.  Maybe a little smoke here or there to take the edge off.  We might look too long at the guy lifting weights in the gym.  Just a little peek.  You know…appreciating God’s craftsmanship.  And we feel a little better. Although Elimelech and Naomi experienced relief, it wasn’t the ultimate fix for their situation.  While still in Moab, Elimelech dies.  Naomi is in a foreign land with two children.  Instead of returning to the house of bread, Naomi remains in Moab.  Her temporary stay is extended just a while longer.  Maybe she didn’t want to take them out of the Moabite Public School System.  Perhaps her time in a foreign land made it not so foreign any longer.  Her sons grow up and take wives of their own.  And Naomi continues to remain in Moab. We know that Naomi moved to Moab through no fault of her own.  She was seeking relief from a famine.  But over time that temporary relief became a permanent place of residency.  I’ve been there, done that, and have the t-shirt.  I had no intentions of being fat this long.  But food provides a temporary relief from the struggles of life.  I use it as a quick fix when I’m happy, sad, bored, or angry.  Just a little bit here and there has added significantly to my frame.  I allowed fleeting emotions to take up permanent residency on my body.  Naomi is not alone.  When life hit, she coped by remaining in a desolate place. When both of her sons die, Naomi is over it.  Her place of relief has become a place of pain.  Her temporary fix has ceased to be beneficial.  She is ready to return home.  She heard that the house of bread has been replenished.  The Lord has visited and given His children bread.  And she is ready to eat at the table that is hers. Although Naomi stayed away for a very long time, she has the opportunity to return to her home.  And, I’m grateful that can be our story too.  We didn’t mean to stop going to church all together.  We just needed a break from all the “church people.”  We didn’t mean to smoke a pack of cigarettes a day.  We only wanted a couple to take the edge off.  We didn’t mean to eat the whole bag of chips.  It was just a snack while we watched our favorite show.  We stayed in our temporary situations entirely too long.  Ya’ll it’s time for us to return to a healthy state of being. Life can be challenging.  We have to find healthy ways to handle the stresses of life.  Quick fixes have the potential to derail us.  They can leave us bitter and angry.  God was gracious and allowed Naomi to see that His hand had been on her life the entire time.  He gave her the strength to return to Bethlehem and the life that she walked away from.  Let’s be careful to cope with challenges the right way.  #wepreach Questions to ponder: How do you currently handle stressful situations? Do you seek God’s guidance before making big decisions? Do you seek God’s guidance before making small decisions? Name one coping strategy that you currently use that is causing harm. If you identified a harmful coping strategy, think of one safe alternative and try it for the next week.

Mother’s Day has arrived!  I’ve shared before that a village raised me.  I didn’t just magically become the person that I am today.  This is the perfect opportunity to salute the women that have molded and guided me. It should come as no surprise that Bible Study Mama is first on my list.  She carried me for nine long months.  She nurtured me and guided me through my teen years.  God bless her!  Recently, I’ve discovered that she gives a great massage.  I couldn’t let her go if I wanted to.  Especially now that I know she was holding back her special gifts. You might know this already, but my grandma rides for me.  When I lived out of state, I didn’t have to keep up with the weather.  If inclement weather was coming my way, my grandmother would call and sound the alarm.  She would know that it was raining before I did.  She is a champion for me and believes the best of me.  If I want it straight, I go to her. Then, there is my Aunt Linda.  I grew up in her home.  Family portraits of me and her two older kids grace the walls of her house.  I alternated between calling her mama/Aunt Linda.  She has loved on me all my life even though she’s not into touchy feely stuff…LOL.  I convinced her youngest daughter that she was actually adopted.  The proof was on the walls all around her.  (I’m a little terrible.) My aunt Doris also picked up the slack for me.  She was a hard-core disciplinarian.  She didn’t play, and I had no choice but to respect that.  Staying at her house was a special treat.  She had a water bed.  Tell me one thing that’s cooler than that.  I’ll wait.  She is an extraordinary seamstress and knitter.  When I wanted to be Snow White for the school’s book character dress up day, she went to work.  I had a beautiful costume. Aunt Gail is a big champion for me as well.  She tells me that I’m the best kid to come through the family.  She didn’t have to whoop me or fuss at me.  She has no problem hugging me and telling me that she loves me.  If I need her, she shows up.  Really, they all show up. There are many other women that have had an impact on my life.  If I named them all, this would be a never-ending blog.  My community has stepped in and carried me through many difficult points in my life.  And they’ve rejoiced with me in my happiest days. Of course, one of my mother figures is no longer with us.  My Ma Patra.  I wish she was around today.  I want to know how she would react to some of the shenanigans that we have experienced.  I really wanted her to see the first African-American president.  She always thought it would never happen.  I want her to meet my husband and squeeze on my babies.  She would let me know if my babies were ugly.  And then still love them anyway.  She would let me know if my husband was ugly…on the inside and the outside.  I miss her. If your mom is still alive today, let her know how much you appreciate her.  Love on her while you can.  Certainly, I have been reminded of how precious life is.  Here one second and gone the next.  If your mom is gone, it’s okay to feel that pain.  To grieve the loss.  Happy Mother’s Day!  #wepreach

On Wednesday, Netflix dropped the documentary “Becoming” which follows Michelle Obama as she travels on her book tour for her personal memoir.  I own the book.  I bought it as soon as it was released.  I started reading it and then got busy with life.  I never finished it. The documentary was beautiful.  Watching her story unfold was really fascinating.  She was honest and relatable.  She didn’t hold back.  She spoke her truth and encouraged others to do the same.  In many of her encounters with others, she emphasized that their personal stories had value.  We are all continually in the process of becoming.  I’m soft these days.  I cried. “Becoming” is not the only video that dropped on Wednesday.  After a long day out in the world, I was scrolling on Facebook.  My timeline was filled with pictures of Ahmaud Arbery.  He was a 25-year-old black man who went out for his regular jog.  I used the verb “was,” because he never returned home from his jog.  He was chased down by a white father/son duo and shot.  The men assumed that he must have committed a robbery because he was running.  I’m angry these days.  I cried. What is the world becoming?  My fear is that it is becoming more of what it always was.  Race plays an enormous role in the world that we live in today.  Listen, if you’re not blind, you see color.  You see my chocolate skin and natural hair.  You make judgements about me because of my appearance.  We all do.  That’s why people say that first impressions matter, however it gets downright depressing when someone loses their life in the course of a normal activity. His murder is even more frustrating, because it’s not the first.  We can pretend that these murders are random events, but they are increasing.  One innocent life taken is too many.  In the year of our Lord, two thousand and twenty, black lives should matter.  Unfortunately, for much of America, and the body of Christ, they don’t.  What is the church becoming? Black, white, red, yellow, brown, and green.  We are all the body of Christ.  No matter what skin tone we have.  But when tragedies like this occur, generally only black leaders speak out with outrage.  It’s time out for that.  Instead of the body of Christ becoming more like Christ, it cowers.  It holds its tongue. My prayer is that we ALL become who Christ wants us to be.  If we’re not actively helping our brothers and sisters in Christ, we’re becoming more like the world.  We are becoming the Pharisees that sit back and watch a world in crisis because we are just here to follow the rules of religion.  We don’t care about relationship.  Christ literally gave His life for EVERY person to be reconciled to God.  Not a select few.  Don’t get so busy with your own life that you forget to care about others.  Allow Christ to finish the work that He began in us.  Let’s become more like Him.  #wepreach

And the servant of the Lord must not quarrel but be gentle to all, able to teach, patient II Timothy 2:24 NKJV Mild mannered.  Gentle.  Calm.  Do these words describe the way that you act when provoked?  When someone uses the right combination to get under your skin, are those words characteristic of your typical response?  Wednesday night REfresh Bible study challenged me to be more conscious of my reaction in contentious situations. Over the years, I have crafted the ability to hold my tongue….usually.  I can listen to someone that is out of line and just stare.  All kinds of crazy thoughts will run through my mind, but I’ll remain silent.  I ruminate over the issue.  I mean, I really think it through.  Sometimes, my silence lasts until my anger/disdain/disappointment fades.  And other times, I let people have it.  With me, delayed truly does not mean denied.  I may not get you right at the moment, but in time, I’m a master at putting someone in their place.  Pastor’s lesson on II Timothy 2:24 was a reminder that I’m not yet where I should be when it comes to strife. This verse is a call to live the life that God wants us to live.  So many times, it’s hard for me to put me to the side.  Especially when dealing with people who have a tendency to generate strife.  I have a perfect example.  I was talking with a family member.  Actually, he was cursing and calling me out of my name.  Now, I knew he was drunk, but I had had enough.  I succinctly cursed him out.  He was shocked.  He was appalled.  He questioned my Christianity and told me that I wasn’t a good representative for Christ.  He was right.  In that moment, I wasn’t concerned about Christ.  I just needed for him to know that he didn’t own curse words.  They were free for all to use so I utilized them.  But what did I gain? Temporarily, I felt great.  I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to let somebody have it sometimes.  I usually have a long fuse and feel justified if I refrain from using my words to harm for an extended period of time.  But that’s not great for me in the long term.  My pastor reminded me that God holds ME accountable for how I treat others.  On judgement day, God won’t ask what others said to me.  His concern will be how I responded.  He wants my reactions to be right. Ugggh.  I love Bible study and struggle with it at the same time.  It’s one thing to read that I need to be patient and humbly correct those who are in opposition.  It’s an entirely different thing to live out.  Pastor said that there is a ministry in your reaction.  And my reaction to that negative situation is not the ministry that I want to spread across the world.  My reaction reveals where I am in my relationship with Christ.  I have walked away from the concept of perfectionism, but I know that I can do better.  I can be better.  I’m grateful that God continues to give me the chance to try it again.  Next time, I will have the right reaction.  #wepreach

Quarantine Day (?) began like many others.  (I can’t tell you what day it was because they all blend together at this point.)  I got up.  Showered. Brushed my teeth.  And commenced my daily TV binge.  As the day wore on, I decided that I needed to get outside for fresh air.  Bible Study Mama and I hit one of our favorite trails that is nestled in the woods. We were discussing the latest episode of “Before the 90 Days” (a TV show on TLC).  In the distance, I saw a family of three approaching.  I moved off the trail to walk in the leaves.  The trail is small, and I wanted to make sure that they could pass at a reasonable social distance.  The father of the family then called out to me. “Excuse me ma’am.  You might want to stay on the trail.  I saw a copperhead snake in the woods back there.” Y’all…..I don’t do rats, and I DEFINITELY don’t do snakes.  I hopped back on that trail quicker than I’ve ever moved in my life.  Well actually, I kinda tried to get on Bible Study Mama’s back.  It’s just a thing I do when I’m scared.  Don’t judge me.  She told me to stop touching her because she was freaked out enough already.  My argument was a mother sacrifices for her children.  Yea…even their super grown kids. Listen, I was well aware that we were walking in nature.  And I was also aware that the forest wasn’t my natural habitat.  It belongs to the creatures that live there.  Since I have such a disdain for snakes, I was also generally hyper vigilant about checking my surroundings.  My eyes always check the foliage for possible snake hiding holes.  My ears are attuned to sounds of rustling in the leaves.  Often, I hear a creature moving, and I get really loud and tell them to stay where they are.  But hearing that warning from the man made the possibility of danger more real for some reason.  It’s one thing to know that there are snakes around.  It’s a completely different experience when there has been a sighting. My usual attentiveness was derailed by a juicy conversation and approaching strangers.  Stepping off the trail, even just a little, had put my life in danger.  The entire situation put me on high alert.  I couldn’t relax after I knew that a poisonous snake had been spotted in my vicinity. I need to have that same attitude with my spiritual life.  It’s so easy to step off the trail.  After all, the Bible tells us in Matthew 7:13-14 that the Christian journey has a narrow gate.  While I don’t ever want to glamorize perfectionism, I have to be honest with myself about the times that I don’t even try.  I step off trail sometimes to accommodate others or myself.  Baby, I am the queen of analyzing reality TV lives.  I can always tell you how they should live their lives but, for some reason, am not as efficient with my own. I’m glad God is gracious.  The end of the story is that it’s not all over for us when we step off the trail.  We can hop right back on just like I did.  But let me be clear.  There is no guarantee that the trail is a free pass from trouble.  Satan is always seeking to kill, steal, and destroy.  The earth is not our home.  Heaven is.  We’re just walking through earth on our way to our eternal home. Staying vigilant in my relationship with Christ is a continual journey for me.  Nowhere in my description of the beginning of my day did I say that I spent anytime with God.  Even though I’m home all day, I usually reserve my study times for the evening.  But there is always a possibility that I won’t reach the evening.  I had no excuse.  I just didn’t prioritize Him. The shout out from the stranger in the woods was a reminder that I always have room for growth.  I’m so glad that he said something.  He could have remained silent, especially in this time of social distancing.  He took time to warn me of a very real danger.  It’s my obligation to do the same.  If you have not accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, now is a good time to change your story.  Jesus loves you so much that He died and rose for you to be able to have relationship with Him.  Take His hand.  Get on the trail.  #wepreach

Since life has been a little hectic/scary/frustrating, I have been very intentional about finding the small, sweet things in life that put a smile on my face.  Today, I’m sharing some of my favorite things.  The idea popped in my head while I was walking today.  The weather has been pleasant for the most part throughout this quarantine.  My walks usually happen earlier in the day, but today the walk happened closer to four in the afternoon.  I was sweating and exhausted and ready to quit.  Flopping on the couch gave me the opportunity to appreciate one of my MOST favorite things.  Air conditioning!  God bless the person who followed the notion to create an artificial way to cool off homes, cars, and buildings.  Honestly, if I could only choose one modern day convenience, air conditioning would win hands down. I’m also a big fan of musicals.  They hold such a special place in my heart.  Just ask Bible Study Brother.  When we were kids, I would utilize Saturdays to perfect our home-grown musical theater.  Bible Study Mama took great pride in making sure that we had ALL the Disney movies as soon as they came to VHS.  We would watch a portion of a film and then I would choreograph and perfect our vocals.  In time, we were able to perform entire movies from memory.  My choreographer/musical director/acting coach skills are pretty savage.  What a precious memory.  It’s one of my favorites. Let’s see….what else do I really enjoy?  Well, this may seem stereotypical, but watermelon is my all-time favorite food.  I remember a summer in college when I primarily existed by eating watermelon.  My roommate and I would get one, sometimes two, every week.  I like it nice and cold.  Right out of the fridge.  I will eat it warm but that’s not my preference.  In 2018, I decided to head down to Hope for their annual watermelon festival.  I had never attended, and the thought of all that watermelon just made my soul smile.  Sweet Baby tagged along, and she wasn’t that sweet that day.  But that’s another story for another day. THE BEACH!!!!  Listen, the sound of the waves crashing on the shore, and the feel of sand between my little toes gives me indescribable joy.  Looking out at the vastness of the ocean calms me.  And it also makes me realize just how tiny I really am.  Although looking at other people flex their beach bodies can be depressing, a dip in the ocean makes me feel light and free.  Salt water takes the weight off my joints and allows me to relax.  Now getting out of the ocean and back on dry land is NOT one of my favorite things.  There are several beached whale pictures in family albums to prove this.  LOL!  Hopefully, I get the opportunity to add another one of those pictures to the album this year. Last, but certainly not least, is YOU!  I’m so grateful that you take time out of your day to see what’s going on with me.  Blogging is so solitary in many ways.  I’m always encouraged to hear your stories.  I get joy when you say that you can relate to me.  My heart smiles when I know that I’m helping even just one person.  What are your favorite things?  Take some time today to appreciate all the things that are right in your life.  #wepreach

Sunday’s sermon had me all in my feelings.  Y’all I went on an emotional rollercoaster.  My pastor said that these were scattered thoughts.  Well, I don’t want to know how I would have made it if the thoughts were together!  I just made myself laugh out loud, but I’m so serious.  The sermon came from II Kings 4:38-41.  The text picks up from the previous Sunday’s sermon.  In that sermon, we learn of the Shunammite woman’s response to tragedy.  You can search the website for “It Will Be Alright” if you want to know more about her story.  In yesterday’s sermon, the prophet Elisha returned to Gilgal and encountered another problem.  Now we’re going to dig deeper into this sermon recap. Elisha is back in Gilgal and working with the sons of the prophets.  Famine is in the land.  Although food is in short supply, Elisha sends his servant to put on a pot and boil stew for the sons so that they can eat.  The servant goes out into the field looking for herbs.  The Hebrew word for herbs means “light.”  While out searching for herbs, the servant comes across a wild vine.  The vine is full of wild gourds.  The Hebrew word for gourd means “crooked.”  The servant gathers up a lapful of the wild gourds even though he doesn’t know what they are.  He slices them and adds them to the stew. Hmmmm….is it wise to add random ingredients into the stew when you don’t know what they are?  If your answer is “probably not,” you just might make it in a wilderness situation.  The servant was sent out with a specific purpose, and he got distracted.  He was thrown off course by something that looked interesting.  Does that sound like someone you know?  By someone, I mean me.  And if we’re being honest, it’s probably you at times.  God has placed purpose and promise in your life.  You start off on course with your eyes on the prize and find yourself drifting to grab ahold of an intriguing object that catches your eye.  You don’t mean any harm.  You add this intriguing person, habit, career, __(Fill in the Blank)___ into your life without knowing what it is.  It’s time to taste the stew and see what you’ve created. The sons of prophets taste the stew that Elisha’s servant has mixed up.  Immediately, they are alarmed.  They cry out to Elisha and say that there is death in the pot!  Oooops.  Seems those interesting gourds that the servant wandered upon had deadly consequences.  Elisha sent the servant out looking for light, and he returned with something crooked.  And the crooked additions have poisoned the entire pot of stew.  Now what?  Do we throw out the entire pot of stew?  Remember there is a famine in the land.  They need food and supplies are limited. We also need to acknowledge that it is by no fault of their own that they are poisoned.  They are learning more of God.  They are doing the will of God when the pot gets contaminated.  Elisha’s servant did not mean any harm.  He was just trying to add more variety to their intake.  Thankfully, the sons of the prophets immediately stopped eating when they noticed that something was off.  Not only did they stop eating, they also said verbally declared that the pot was poisoned.  Often, we encounter atmospheres and situations that are off kilter.  Maybe we want to be polite, so we don’t address how toxic the environment is.  Let’s learn from these men and address the situations that are toxic in our lives.  We don’t have to continue to eat contaminated stew.  It will kill us.  So, now we have circled back to the previous question.  Do we throw the entire pot away? Elisha hears the cries for distress and provides a remedy.  His solution was not dramatic and elaborate.  He added flour to the pot, and everyone was able to eat the once contaminated stew without dying.  I know, I know. Flour.  Flour is used to make bread and is symbolic of Jesus.  You may know Him as the Bread of Life.  Elisha puts Jesus in the pot, and the entire situation changes.  This was no black and white situation.  Shades of grey permeate the entire episode.  The grace of God settled the matter for all involved.  We don’t have to throw the entire pot away when life gets complicated, but we do need to always bring Jesus into the pot.  #wepreach Questions to chew on (don’t worry they’re not contaminated): Have you ever been distracted from your purpose by something that seemed interesting? If so, were there any negative consequences? How do you handle toxic situations? Do you verbally address them or suffer in silence? Are you connected to people that emit light or crookedness? How do you guard your pot (your environment)? Do you extend grace when others harm you?

The days are blending together for me.  Since I’m inside and/or at home for 98% of my life now, keeping track of the days has not been as important.  I woke up from a sound sleep on Friday morning in a bit of a panic.  I just knew that it was Sunday, and I was unprepared AND late for Sunday School.  A whole hot mess.  Then I decided to extend myself a little grace. The thought of grace didn’t randomly pop into my head.  Last week, Jonathan McReynolds dropped an amazing album, People.  The last song on the album is entitled “Grace,” and I’ve been playing it on a loop along with the rest of the album.  (Side note:  I might be his biggest fan.  I played “Cycles” forever.  As soon as the car started, his music would begin to play.  Without fail, EVERY TIME, Sweet Baby would say, “Who’s that lady singing?” and then begin to sing “Cycles” along with him.  Kids…) Now that we’ve established my fandom, let me get back to the point.  The song “Grace” speaks to me because it is me.  I’m a “get it done” kind of gal.  When problems arise, I want to tackle the issues and make the best out of every situation.  I don’t want to fail.  I can’t stand falling.  I’m convinced that I can do it all.  Until I can’t. More than ever, I’m realizing my need for God’s grace.  In all situations.  I know that I’m not alone.  Many people are emotional and on edge during this whole coronavirus pandemic.  Uncertainty is the name of the game.  Our familiar routines have been stripped away from us, and we’re left with confusion.  We experience mistrust because the world seems even more unbalanced. Not only do I need God’s grace, but I need to extend that same grace to others.  Sometimes that’s hard to do when you’re already personally on edge.  However, each time someone has been gracious or gone above and beyond during these times, my heart is moved.  I’m challenged to be that person for someone else. Thankfully, I quickly came to my senses and realized that it was Friday.  I took a deep breath and began my day.  I was able to talk with friends and family.  My co-worker left a sweet treat on my porch.  Fresh strawberries made their way into my house.  Netflix got to spend more time with me, and I was able to prepare for Sunday School.  I pray this Sunday morning finds you well.  I pray that your heart is open to receive grace and extend that same grace to others.  We all need it.  #wepreach

Many times, you don’t miss something until it’s gone.  I cannot tell you the number of things that grated on my nerves pre-COVID-19.  My life was full of activity.  The time that I did have at home during the week was not really time to relax from my day.  Most often, I would be preparing for the next day or finishing any of the number of tasks that adulthood requires.  And I was so tired. COVID-19 given me the opportunity to spend more time in the home that I work hard to maintain.  And I’m grateful for that.  Listen, I have had to find joy in anything that I can grab onto.  But I have also realized the things that made my life so full.  And at the time, I took it for granted. Being a speech-language pathologist is a joy, but it comes with challenges.  One-on-one therapy can be draining. Weeks and weeks of long days had really zapped some of the wonder out of my job.  Don’t get me wrong.  I had days when kids made giant leaps, but the majority of the progress is slow and steady.  I think had become jaded…and quite frankly, exhausted. I realized just how much I missed my kids this week.  I have been one little boy’s therapist since he was an arm baby.  He couldn’t walk, he couldn’t talk, and he claimed me as his own.  The baby room teacher would always comment about how much he loved me.  If I came in his classroom and didn’t pick him up, he would scream and cry.  And this year, he’s going to kindergarten.  I was already mentally preparing myself for his big boy adventures and then quarantine happened. I don’t want to sugar coat our relationship.  It’s been a real life adventure.  He did not magically talk.  He crossed so many hurdles.  He reached a therapist’s dream/nightmare point really.  He talked ALL THE TIME.  He would interrupt me when I talked.  He sang.  He laughed.  He enjoyed life and was not always on board with the objective that needed to be targeted.  Then he developed an even greater habit.  Everybody and everything was a chicken nugget. It’s not ENTIRELY my fault that the chicken nugget saying became a thing.  One day, I asked him a question and he responded, “chicken nugget.”  I thought it was funny, so I laughed.  BIG MISTAKE!  He used that phrase quite often to try to throw me off my game.  He would have the biggest belly laugh every time he said it.  We had to have a “Come to Jesus” meeting about chicken nugget, because it was wearing me down.  I was OVER IT! And this week I realized that I would give anything to hear him say “chicken nugget” and dissolve into giggles.  It put my life into perspective.  The little thing that drove me nuts was something that I miss dearly.  It’s not just him.  I miss all my babies.  They each have such distinct personalities and bring different qualities to the table.  Watching them grow has grown me.  They’ve all imprinted on my life.  It’s the little things. My prayer is that we are all taking time to find one thing that we’re grateful for every day.  Prior to this, it was a struggle for me to take inventory of the positive aspects in my life.  I was just trying to make it.  Honestly, I’m still just trying to make it, but I’m being intentional about finding the sweet in a sour situation.  And sweet and sour sauce pairs nicely with chicken nuggets…in my opinion.  #wepreach

Last week Pastor tackled a crucial, yet often misunderstood, aspect of the Christian experience-forgiveness.  After licking my wounds from last Wednesday’s REfresh, I was ready for a lesson that was easier to digest.  I wanted one of those ice cream and cupcake lessons.  But that’s not what I received.  I got an okra, rutabaga, and kale salad lesson.  Full of every nutrient that I need for my Christian walk but not as easy to swallow.   Pastor challenged our spiritual maturity concerning reconciliation. Jesus came to earth on assignment.  His mission, His purpose, and His calling was to reconcile a sinful world with the perfect God.  Wednesday night’s Bible study came from Matthew 5:23-26.  In these verses, Jesus points us away from religion and toward relationship.  He establishes a priority that we would be wise to remember and live out. As a practical example, Jesus says that if we’re on our way to lay offering at the altar and remember that we have offended someone, we should put our gift to the side of the altar and go reconcile with the person that we have offended.  Notice he does not qualify whether we were right in what we did to offend the person.  He just says that we should do what we can to resolve the problem.  It’s only then that we get back to the offering.  It’s not an either/or situation.  God wants our offerings on the altar AND a reconciled relationship with our fellow brothers and sisters. But before we get to the part of reconciling and dealing with our brothers’ and sisters’ emotions, we have to address our own emotions first.  Even though I don’t often act on the negative thoughts that I have towards people, that does not mean the emotions don’t exist.  I can smile in someone’s face and wish they would go far, far away.  I mean, I do it all the time.  You wouldn’t know it, but God does.  And that’s the issue.  I have to take accountability for my wrong thoughts and get them to align with God wants for me.  When I acknowledge how off course I am, it makes it a little easier to extend grace to those that I have offended.  I said a little.  This is a marathon not a sprint for me. One of the most poignant points brought forth in Bible study was that I need to lower myself like Jesus did.  Jesus was perfect.  He did no wrong.  Yet He lowered Himself to the point of death so that I could be reconciled with God.  So, who am I to not lower myself to those that I have offended?  OUCH!  Pastor eloquently stated that it’s not called being the bigger person when you reach out to ease your offenses.  It is truly a position of lowering yourself and serving your fellow man to bring peace to a fractured relationship. Reconciliation does not mean that we hang out with each other all the time.  We don’t have to talk all night on the phone like schoolgirls either.  But we must be able to work together in the body of Christ without tension in the air.  Without hidden resentments and fake smiles.  That is the sign of true spiritual maturity.  It is an indication that we understand that Christ wasn’t about making sure church programs proceed without a hitch.  Christ was concerned about His people and establishing an opportunity for us to be reconciled to God.  We need to have that same priority. I would be lying if I said that I got on my phone and dialed those that I know that I’ve offended.  I’m really being prayerful about my approach.  I want it to be sincere.  It will happen because I can’t claim to be Christ-like and continue in my stubborn ways.  I told ya’ll this wasn’t an ice cream and cupcake lesson.  But it’s necessary.  Let’s get it together.  #wepreach

Pictures capture moments in life that could otherwise be forgotten.  They are precious snapshots.  I’m particularly drawn to the picture of Bible Study Brother and I asleep in the same bed.  We’re snuggled in the bed underneath a quilt that was probably sewn by our great grandmother.  This photo had to be taken circa 1988.  In the days before every camera was a phone, you had to use a camera that was loaded with film.  You looked through the viewfinder to frame the perfect shot, and you weren’t sure of what you had until the pictures came back.  We had to wait for them to be developed.  A one hour turn around for a printed photo was unheard of.  Patient was a virtue and your only choice. The cameras of today could likely take a clearer photo, but I love this image.  Two kids completely at rest without a care in the world.  We were at peace, however the picture does not show what it likely took to get us both at rest at the same time.  Nighttime was my friend.  My eyelids would lower as the sun set.  Sunset was just a reminder to Bible Study Brother that the party was about to begin.  He has always been a night owl.  The dark couldn’t hold him down.  Yet somehow there is physical evidence that we both managed to rest at the same time. As a kid, the routine was established that I would say a simple prayer before bed each night.  You may or may not be familiar with it.  It goes like this: Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” Short.  Simple. To the point.  It got the job done.  And I would fall asleep immediately after saying those words.  My rest was secured.  My prayers are much different now, but the result is ultimately the same.  I find rest and comfort when I put my petitions before the Lord. Unfortunately, my rest does not come as instantly now as it did then.  I toss and turn with impatience.  Man, I put my petition out there, and I want results rapidly.  I don’t want to wait.  I do not have time for God’s perfectly framed picture to develop.  But the reality is that I do have time.  In this season of my life, I’m learning to rest in God.  I could spin my wheels and be agitated or say my prayer and let the Lord keep my soul.  I’m choosing to lie down. #wepreach

My mom tells a story about younger me that is so different from the woman that I am today.  I was raised in the country.  Mice were part of our life.  They were in the shadows scampering around.  So, we had mouse traps.  Not the humane traps of modern days.  The traps that snapped when a mouse was in them.  They were loud but effective. The story she tells involves one of these traps.  At around the age of four or five, I spoke my mind freely.  I had not yet acquired the skill of keeping my thoughts to myself.  I was not the type to filter my words.  I said what I thought.  I meant what I said.  And I did what I wanted to do. My mom had come to visit one weekend.  Apparently, I thought it was a fun idea to chase her around the house with one of the mice traps.  The trap wasn’t empty.  I held its inhabitant by the tail and cackled as I tried to catch my mom.  I was fearless.  And naughty.  And not in the least bit funny as far as my mom was concerned. Oh, little young Sareta.  Hearing that story now makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.  I survived the rat invasion in my current home but only barely.  I wanted to sell the house and everything in it.  I could not imagine ever feeling comfortable here again after the rats took over.  Yet, here I sit typing in the dark.  Sleeping well at night. How did I go from a young girl that played with mice to a grown woman that was ready to give up everything when an infestation happened?  Young Sareta would not let a mouse deter her.  She played with the things that torment me as a growing and maturing woman. Now let’s be clear.  The rats that used to live in my current home were easily four times the size of the mice that were caught in traps. (I’m not exaggerating…I have pictures).  But the fundamental issue is that they are very closely related.  And I almost let them take me out.  I almost let them take over my home, because I didn’t feel prepared for the fight.  Almost. This makes me think of my spiritual journey.  I would rebuke the devil and tell him to flee when I was a babe in Christ.  I had so much faith and assurance that God would provide.  As my faith has grown so has the size of the attacks against me.  And instead of getting bolder and more confident, I have found myself shrinking back.  Not wanting to engage in the fight.  And willing to give up the house, this earthly temple, because the fight was too scary. But thank God for being surrounded by believers that encouraged me when the battle was too scary for me to handle alone.  Community isn’t just a nice idea.  It’s necessary.  They pray with, and for, me.  When evil infestations happen, they don’t let me abandon ship.  They get in the fight with me until all of the demons are slayed. I don’t have to spend my life running from infestations.  The Sareta that did what she wanted and said what she meant is still inside of me.  Now, I’m reminding myself to speak things that are not as though they were.  And watch God clear up all infestations.  #wepreach

Tragedy often comes when we least expect it.  It leaps up and yells “Surprise!”  We didn’t ask for it.  We didn’t want it.  But it came anyway.  My pastor used II Kings 4:18-37 to give us a model of the proper way to respond when life’s calamities occur.  Let’s dig into the sermon recap. The story begins with a typical day.  A father is out gathering the harvest from the fields.  Like many fathers, he brought his son along with him.  This was an opportunity for the son to be involved in the harvest.  He’s learning alongside his dad.  While there, the son begins to complain of a headache.  The work must continue, so his father asks one of the servants to take the son home to his mother.  His mom holds him on her lap.  She comforts him like only a mother can.  And then tragedy strikes.  While the mother is holding him, the son dies. This is no ordinary day.  The mother is known in the Bible as the Shunammite woman.  We first hear of her earlier in the chapter.  She is a woman of wealth married to an older man.  They have no children when we first see her.  She has a generous heart and decides to build a room onto her house for Elisha, the prophet.  She did not build the room for acclaim or recognition.  Her hospitable heart just wanted to provide shelter for the man of God.  Elisha is moved by her generosity and lets her know that she will embrace a son.  And now this child, this promise, lies dead in her arms. I know I’m not the only one that has situations that are dead.  There are things that I believe God for, things that I’ve trusted God for,… and they seem dead.  Man, let me clear that up.  They are dead.  I poke and prod them and there is no life.  So what do we do when tragedy strikes?  How do we handle the dead situations that seemingly come from nowhere?  Take a look at how the Shunammite woman handles this unordinary day. She remains stable.  The Bible doesn’t record her crying hysterically or falling out beside her son.  She carries her son into the room that she built for Elisha.  She lays him on the bed and shuts the door.  She puts her son in a place where surely God has been and leaves him there.  Now listen, I’m not so saved and strong that I think I could do what she did.  Without knowing the end of the story, my mind would place that in the category of foolish.  But everything looks crazy and seems insane until you see how God moves.  I have many issues that cause me to act irrationally.  How much farther along would I be on my faith journey if I was stable enough to take my issues to the altar and leave them there? The Shunammite woman remained spiritual.  Faced with an unspeakable tragedy, she decided to go straight to the man of God.  She doesn’t tell her husband what has happened.  He finds it odd that she wants to go see Elisha on just another typical day.  When he asks why the need for the journey, she says “It is well.”  She speaks life over a dead situation.  She says what is contrary to the naked eye.  It is well.  When life hit her, she kept her focus on God’s promise and plan for her.  Even when the situation seemed hopeless. Once she reaches Elisha, she remains steadfast.  Elisha sees that her soul is distressed.  He sends Gehazi ahead of them with instructions to bring the child back to life.  Gehazi fails.  But the woman is not deterred.  She has come to the man of God.  Elisha has sent someone else to help her, and the help ends up not helping.  And yet the woman still believes.  I know about being disappointed by the church.  Church people in my life have missed the mark, and the reality is that I’ve missed the mark for other people in the church.  But that doesn’t give us the right to stop believing in God.  We should be steadfast like this Shunammite woman. Elisha goes into the room alone with the boy and shuts the door.  He lays himself on the child and the child’s body warms up.  No movement still.  No other signs of life.  Elisha walks back and forth and then stretches himself on the child again.  And this time….this time, the child sneezes seven times and opens his eyes.  Her son is alive!!!  Her prayers have been answered. Her problem didn’t have a quick fix.  She didn’t name it and claim it once and receive miraculous intervention.  She remained faithful.  And my Lord, she had some major discouragements along the way.  Ya’ll when life hits us hard, we have to shift our focus and mindset.  We have to be thankful for each small sign we receive that the Lord is working things out in our favor.  When we step back and look at the small signs of life in our dead situations we can rejoice.  That’s when we know that it will be alright.  #wepreach Think about these questions: What is your initial response to tragedy? When the shock wears off how do you proceed? How often do you read the Bible for personal understanding? Is it okay to cry or be distressed when life is hard? Why or why not? When situations are not going as you would like, do you look for small signs of progress? Do you meditate on the negative aspects of life? Is it hard for you to believe in a positive outcome?

If you had told me one year ago that I would be writing blogs every day about my faith walk, I would have said that you were insane.  If you had told me that I would be able to last seven weeks without working and be alright, I would have kindly escorted you the nearest psychiatric facility to institute a 72-hour hold.  If you had said that the entire world would be shut in their homes because of an invisible threat to their health, I would have added you to all the prayer lists that I know.  Your statements would have blown my mind. You would have been so right, but my ability to believe in your vision would have been so wrong.  As I listened to Part II of Bible Study Cousin’s faith journey on the Bible Study Girl podcast, I was reminded of just how awesome God is.  If you haven’t listened to her testimony, you really should.  It encouraged me and reminded me that even when the world around me is uncertain, God is certain.  God is sure.  He’s not short sighted.  He always has the end in mind. I like to listen to the podcasts again before I upload them unto the various platforms.  We record several in one sitting so that we won’t fall behind.  By the time an episode is uploaded, it has generally been a month since it was recorded.  Life has happened in that time, and I don’t remember what we discussed.  Bible Study Cousin spoke about how God is blowing her mind, and she has an expectation that He will continue to do so.  I was over here saying “yes” to my empty house when my phone rang.  God was blowing my mind with the call and reminding me that I’m His.  Even when it feels like the world is against me. Even though I sat in the room with her to record the podcast, the words hit differently just a few weeks later.  God saw into my future.  He saw me at my computer…discouraged, tired, and worn out.  He used her to remind me that He has the vision and plan for my life.  He knows the end while I’m struggling with the middle parts. One of the most challenging parts of my faith journey has been trusting God’s vision and plan for my life.  I’m human.  I get caught up with what I see in front of me.  I get upset.  I get frustrated when I can’t see what God is doing.  I get scared and mad when I can’t see His face…when I can’t feel His hand.  Even though I know He’s always there, it doesn’t always feel like it.  I’m just being honest. But listening to her podcast helped me so much.  It challenged me to continue to walk out my faith journey.  All the people who have shared pieces of themselves have helped me and continue to help me.  They are all part of God’s plan for my life.  Listen, in this season, God is stretching me.  He’s trying me.  He’s daring me to really trust Him.  He continually telling me NOT TO PUT HIM IN A BOX. And when I let go of my limited expectations, He always blows my mind.  #wepreach

Bible Study Cousin came up with a genius idea for her 40th year of life. She created a list of 40 experiences that she wanted have that year. Some were personal and others involved interacting with other people. Even though it was her list, I had a blast helping her knock some of the items off the list. I was so inspired that I created a 35 for 35 list. Neither of us got the list completely cleared, but it made for some interesting experiences. Since I have free time, I decided to create a list of 37 experiences that I want to have to celebrate turning 37 this year (37?!?!?). I’ll keep you updated on my progress. Complete three 5k’s. Maybe run one of them….hmmm. Complete a 10k. Just one…..let’s not get beside ourselves. Eat at 12 new (to me) restaurants in the Central Arkansas area. Lose 37 pounds and never find it again. Read 12 new books. Host a murder mystery dinner party again. The first time was amazing! Start a Bible study group with a different circle of people. Spread the love! Go live on Facebook one day just because. Ride in a hot air balloon. Go on a hike in one of Arkansas state parks. Save $10,000. Turn a cartwheel on the beach. Go zip lining. Spend a weekend in a cabin. Perform 12 random acts of kindness. Leave a $200 tip at a restaurant. Have a book launch party. Sell out of my books! Dance in the rain. Learn a new dance. I’m so behind the times that I have plenty of options…LOL. Bake 12 desserts that I’ve never baked before. Lord, I won’t be able to shake Bible Study Brother. Read through the entire Bible. Take Bible Study Mama on a monthly date. Sew a quilt. Learn to knit or crochet. Haven’t quite decided which. Go on a real date. Try to skateboard. Sit with my grandmother and write out our family history. I keep putting that off, but it needs to be a priority. Finally compete with my cousin for the official title of family historian. This match has been years in the making. Take a new entire family photo. It’s been 8 years, and that’s way too long. Install the back splash in my kitchen. Make 12 different vegan recipes. Start a vegetable garden. Work on having beautiful rose bushes. Memorize the book of James. Watch 12 sunsets. Remain committed to God and these daily blogs. So there’s my list. You might want to consider making a list of your own. You may not be able to cross every single item off, but I can GUARANTEE you that your life will be enriched and enhanced in your pursuit. My quest won’t begin until May, but I like to think ahead. I can’t wait to share my experiences with ya’ll. Hopefully you’ll have experiences to share with me. #wepreach

Are you one of those super serious Christians?  Is it hard for you to laugh and smile in the sanctuary?  Does it make you uncomfortable when others joke around with you because nothing is funny?  Bless your heart.  You would not have been a fan of Wednesday night’s online Bible study then.  Although my pastor addressed the serious concerns that face us today, I logged off with a smile on my face and happiness bubbling in my home. Wednesday night REFRESH was conducted in a question and answer format.  Viewers typed in their questions and pastor responded.  And his answers were rather candid.  The topic of fear and anxiety was raised.  His transparency and candor were much needed and much appreciated. The fact of the matter is that this is a very uncertain time for the nation as a whole and many of us individually.  The more he discussed different ways that anxiety presents itself, I realized that I have been anxious today.  Today my job announced that they would remain closed until April 20.  Now, real talk, I started to look for another job as soon as the initial two-week closure was announced.  Today’s announcement sent me into overdrive.  Being without pay for two weeks and being without pay for five weeks are two VERY different things with VERY different outcomes.  Honey, I wasn’t listening for the Holy Spirit.  I was LOOKING for a job!  LOL! After my job search frenzy, I got on my knees.  I prayed out loud….REAL LOUD.  My cat, Fitz, always leaves the room when I get turned up.  So, I know I had to be getting on his nerves.  I was anxious.  I was uncertain.  I was desperate. And then I went to online Bible study.  My pastor reminded me that God has not given us the spirit of fear.  And since God didn’t give us the spirit of fear, we don’t have to keep holding on to fear.  II Timothy 1:7 says that “God has not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”  So, if I’m going to hold on to anything, I need to be holding on to power, love, and a sound mind. I’m not too proud to admit that this is a daily walk and process for me.  I have moments when I’m strong and sure.  And other moments when anxiety creeps up on me.  I’m human.  I’m learning.  I’m growing.  It’s all part of the process.  Like I said earlier, by the time Bible study was drawing to a close, I was laughing out loud.  I felt centered.  I felt peace. I’m not so deep that I can’t connect to my real feelings and emotions.  But I’m also not so in tune with my feelings that I cancel out what God is telling me.  Finding a balance can be difficult, but I’m determined to get there.  Every day is not easy, but every day is a day that’s worth experiencing.  And I, for one, am thankful that God continues to give me things to smile about.  #wepreach

While I was lounging on the couch, a deluge of rain fell from the sky.  Fitz, my cat, continued his nap perched in his favorite place by the window.  Even though the sky had been overcast all day…even though the conditions were conducive for a downpour, I was caught off guard.  I’m a fan of watching rain from the coziness of home.  Since I’ve been afforded the opportunity to spend time at home, I snuggled in and watched the downpour. And what a downpour it was!  The rain was falling so heavily that all I could see was a white sheet of water.  I focused on the loud sound it made.  I watched as it flooded my empty flower bed.  I witnessed it saturating my front porch.  I was entranced by the power of nature.  I was intrigued by the hand of God. Ya’ll it’s so easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle.  We don’t mean to do it.  We have bills to pay…church services to attend…children and husbands to care for.  It’s so not intentional, and yet we miss out on the simple moments.  It made me reflect on being a kid.  Bible Study Brother and I were in Turkey Scratch for some school break.  There was a big rain.  A torrential downpour early one morning.  After we ate breakfast, the rain moved on.  The skies were clear.  And my grandma gave us the biggest gift that a kid could ever have.  She told us to go splash in the puddles. I vividly recall being outside in my night gown dancing in mud puddles with my little brother.  My hair was wild and free.  Without a care in the world.  Not concerned about being proper or following the rules.  Just having the ability to enjoy the results of a messy storm. The storm that passed through today was heavy, and I couldn’t see through it.  But it didn’t last long.  After all that big flood of rain, the sun came out.  I could see some dark clouds in the distance, but they too moved on.  The sun dominated the sky. Fitz slept through it all.  When he woke up, he got to just bask in the sun in his favorite spot.  The world was unchanged for him.  But my world was different.  I must take time to dance in these messy mud puddles in my life.  The storm may come out of nowhere, but it gives me the opportunity to abandon the rules.  To just enjoy every moment that God blesses me with.  #wepreach

In an attempt to maintain some normalcy, I decided to establish a routine around here.  I gave myself some grace and just allowed my body to wake up naturally.  The day wouldn’t start until I was fully rested.  Then after I got out of bed, the plan was to workout using YouTube.  I assigned myself a room to deep clean daily.  I would then work on my book for a couple of hours.  After all those things were completed, I would have free time.  Beautiful plan, don’t you think? Of course, my plan got derailed.  I did great last Monday and Tuesday.  But honey, I was over it by Wednesday.  Completing full body workouts using all this body weight took an unprecedented toll on me.  I worked out faithfully four times a week before COVID-19.  And those workouts were decent.  I would burn anywhere from 500-600 calories.  But they had nothing on this full body routine. When I would go to the gym, I would hit up the elliptical and power through the weight loss program.  The hills would get high and hard.  But I knew that if I pushed through the interval, I would get some rest.  The forward motion I created on the machine would offset some of the pressure that I felt.  Remaining in motion made the workouts endurable. Not so when I’m working out at home.  There is just me.  No forward motion to help me along.  I’m pressing against myself and all this weight that I’ve allowed to build on my body.  It’s hard. This makes me think of my present spiritual condition.  I thought that I was fully trusting and depending on God until this past two weeks.  My forward motion, my dependable income, has been removed.  I’m left with the full weight of life.  Thankfully, I’m not overcome with sadness and “woe is me.” Just the way that my physical body needed rest after trying to tackle this full body workout, my spiritual side needed to learn to truly rest in Jesus.  Some people may get bothered by the repetitive nature of my blogs, but every day I’m determined to rest in Him.  I would be lying if I said that resting was second nature for me.  As you can see by my schedule, rest is something that I must be intentional about. Does that mean I lay still and do nothing all day?  Absolutely not.  We only get stronger when we work out our faith muscles.  I may not follow my schedule to the “T”, but I’ve seen great progress in the cleanliness of my home and the strength of my body.  My muscles may scream out in pain when I initially workout, but this is what’s best for them.  I want to be prepared for whatever lies ahead.  This is the season to build my strength.  #wepreach

Before I joined my current church, I was a member of Bedside Baptist for about six months.  If you’ve never heard of Bedside Baptist, I can give you a brief introduction to this grand church.  That simply means that I stayed in bed on Sunday mornings instead of going to church.  I would watch a sermon online or sometimes just watch the back of my eyelids as I slid further into sleep.  I’m not proud of that time.  But it gave me great practice for the current season that we’re in. This past Sunday’s church service was held at Bedside Baptist in my home.  I sang along with the praise and worship team at the top of my lungs.  I’m quite sure that my cat, Fitz, was disturbed by my praise because he politely wandered off into the living room for some peace and quiet.  Don’t worry.  He was back in time for the sermon.  And what a sermon recap I have for you today. Sunday’s sermon came from Acts 16:22-32.  Paul and Silas have been beaten and imprisoned for driving out the spirit of divination in a girl.  Her masters are outraged because the girl was a great source of income.  They want justice.  So, Paul and Silas are made to pay for their crime. Each time I hear this story, I’m challenged to consider what it costs to follow Christ.  Paul and Silas were on assignment from God.  They were doing what they were called to do and yet still found themselves beaten and in chains.  Their response was not whining or complaining.  They responded praying and praising God. It’s interesting to note that they didn’t wait until midnight came to begin their prayer and praise service.  When midnight, the darkest hour, arrived, they were in the midst of their prayer and praise.  They turned a prison cell into a sanctuary, a place of refuge and safety. What a testimony to those who were imprisoned all around them!  Their response to a trying time was to talk to and praise the God who held their life in His hands.  The Bible states that the prisoners were listening to them.  They were witnessing what a life surrendered to God sounded like.  And their listening turned to a physical and tangible experience with God’s power.  There was an earthquake that shook the prison.  Immediately all of the doors were opened, and everyone’s chains were loosed.  They were free! Paul and Silas were shut in by society’s standards.  They were imprisoned for following God’s calling on their life.  Yet in their minds, they were completely free.  So free, that their natural reaction was to praise and worship the one true God.  Their freedom and free relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ had the power to set people who weren’t even in the prison free. My pastor challenged us to be mindful of our responses when we are shut in.  A lost and dying world is watching to see how the body of Christ responds when it seems like all hope is lost.  This is a time to see the power of God fall like never before.  Your prayer, praise, and worship of the Most High God literally has the power to set the captives free.  Don’t let this situation keep your praise shut in.  #wepreach

Faith.  It’s easy to make declarations about having faith when your world is going at a typical pace.  When every day is not great but not horrible either.  When life is average, you can hope for the extraordinary and not be too terribly put off when the extraordinary doesn’t occur.  Miracles are only special because they don’t happen all the time.  So, we hope for the things not seen, but we can get complacent in our faith. You can go back to my first postings in January 2020 and practically smell the hope.  You can almost tangibly feel the anticipation.  Something great was on the horizon.  Things were clicking along in February 2020.  Not too shabby.  Then March 2020 hit.  The coronavirus arrived on American soil, and there was a shift in the atmosphere. It became real to me when I went to the grocery store after all the schools were closed in Central Arkansas.  I was only going for fresh fruits and vegetables.  People said that the stores were a mad house, but I waited for the dust to settle before I ventured out.  I was greeted with a pretty barren fresh produce section.  It really was like a scene out of a movie, but this was real life. As the week progressed, news of more deaths rolled in.  The number of cases of COVID-19 continued to climb.  I thought today of what the funerals must be like for those that have passed on.  With recommendations that gatherings are limited to ten or less, it gave me pause.  How are they dealing with saying goodbye to loved ones in a time when social distancing is the new normal?  What must it be like to not be able to comfort those you love when they are in the throws of this disease?  What does faith look like in these times? Well, my faith is certainly not complacent.  I’ve been praying and expecting God to perform miracles, signs, and wonders since the beginning of 2020.  I couldn’t know then just HOW much I would need for those things to happen in the upcoming months.  My faith looks like prayer.  My faith looks like believing God for great things when the world is in disarray.  My faith looks like holding on to His promises that He is a healer, protector, and provider. I not only have faith in God, but I also have faith in humanity. I believe that we can come together during this time to encourage and uplift each other.  That may take the form of uploading a silly video.  It may be dropping food off at your temporarily unemployed cousin’s house.  It may be pulling your elderly neighbor’s trash can to the curb, so they don’t have to get out.  I’m a firm believer that prayer and faith can move mountains.  #wepreach

Your life can change in a single moment.  When I hear others say that, I often think of how you’re doing just fine and then a tragedy hits.  I mean, you’re minding your business and then life deals you a heavy blow.  Thankfully, God gave me a more positive outlook.  He didn’t leave me in that space. Typically if I’m writing about the same topic as other contributors to Bible Study Girl, I make sure that my blog is written before I read theirs.  I don’t want to be influenced by what they felt led to share.  BSG week broke all the rules.  Although we agreed on a topic, I still didn’t have a specific moment in mind.  I didn’t feel pulled in any general direction.  Until this morning. My bestie sent out an encouraging text to the BSG’s to applaud them for sharing a piece of themselves with the world.  She’s a behind the scenes encourager.  Ever present but not wanting attention drawn to herself.  And in that moment, I knew that I had to talk about my relationship with her and how it all began. She sat next to me in one of our Speech Path undergraduate classes.  Since we had the same major, we saw each other often.  We didn’t have a relationship.  Just a general half smile as we settled into our seats in class.  I’ve shared before that I’m introvert, but she definitely has me beat.  Which makes what happens next in the story a true anomaly.  A moment that changed my life…and hers. She turned to me and asked me if I wanted to attend the C.O.G.I.C. convention with her in Memphis.  Now, we hadn’t ever talked outside of class and barely talked in class.  So, she knew nothing about me.  And I didn’t know anything about her.  But I said, “Sure.”  One small crazy question and one small crazy response.  And over sixteen years later, we’re still taking journeys together. I’m not just talking about vacations.  Although, we do LOVE to hit the road and see the world together.  I’m really talking about the different journeys that life takes us through.  When my great-grandmother passed away and I couldn’t keep myself together, she offered to fly to Houston to come get me and drive me home.  When I’m ready to cuss everybody out, I know that I can call her.  She’ll tell me if my reasoning is valid or if it might be hormones. We have learned what it is to be adults.  We talk about being human and trying to live a life that is worthy of our callings.  We laugh.  We eat all the food.  We hug.  We watch reality TV and discuss their lives like they are our own.  We grow.  We hurt.  We heal. I can’t imagine what the BSG sisterhood would be without her, and I’m glad that I don’t have to.  Although she didn’t write a blog to share her story, know that every time you read one of mine…a piece of her is in there.  Such a simple moment really did set me up for success. She allowed God to lead her to ask me a question, and it changed both of our lives for eternity.  Let me ask you a question.  Have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?  If you haven’t, today is your day.  Following Christ doesn’t promise rainbows and butterflies, but it does promise security.  Your journeys will be much sweeter when you have the right One to share them with. #wepreach

One thing I struggle with in life is making choices. ESPECIALLY when I’m given a lot of options. While other people can have a favorite movie or drink or food, for me it’s always “one” of my favorites. Who can choose just one when there is just so much greatness in this world? So imagine how hard this task has been for me to pick just one moment that changed my life. The deadline has passed, and I still can’t decide. So, guess what? I’ll just go ahead and bless you with a couple. We could talk about the time I was visiting my friend, Scherron, in Dallas. While attending church there, at the beginning of his sermon, the preacher talked about the huge sacrifice Jesus made by getting on that cross and dying so that we might live. It’s not like I hadn’t heard the story before. Cause if you grew up in the country like I did. you heard it every Sunday. He then proceeded to ask if anybody had any cigarettes. Seeing that I only had a few in my box, I gave them to Scherron to give to the preacher. What he said next… I will never forget. He said, “So how small of a sacrifice would it be to put those cigarettes on the cross? Surely if a man could give His life, what would it be for me to sacrifice those cigarettes?” He told us that you could put any strong hold on the cross and leave it there. He explained it in a way that was so clear to me. That just like choosing Jesus is the only option, so was putting down those cigarettes. And if Jesus could make such a big sacrifice, His life, what a tiny sacrifice mine was in comparison. He kept my cigarettes to use in the next service, and I haven’t bought another one since. Or what about the time the Lord saw fit to bring together a small group of girls whose desire at the time was to grow deeper in Him? As I thought back, I decided to pull out the very first Bible study that we did together.  It was entitled Esther: It’s Tough Being a Woman by Beth Moore. Whew chile! The title alone makes me want to holler.  As I opened the book trying to find some kind of date to see just how long ago this thing started with us, I stopped on the introduction page and the only two lines I had underlined jumped out at me. “You may be about to start something you can’t stop” and “God is up to something profound in your life or you wouldn’t be holding this Bible study in your hands.” No truer words have ever been written. We came together and formed a bond through our love for Jesus that will never be broken. It lit a passion in me to want to study God’s word. It taught me the importance of having a prayer life. And even back then, as my Pastor preaches straight to me all the time now, I learned that we are not here to do life alone. So since 2011 we’ve laughed, cried, prayed, traveled, gotten married, had kids and most importantly grown in Christ together. Everyone has their own unique quality that we cannot do without. I love these ladies more than they’ll ever know. and we will always remember that “who knows but that we had come together for such a time as this.” I love my BSGs!!!! #wepreach

I can think of many life changing moments: getting married, giving birth to my son, beginning my career as an Accountant; however, there is one that sticks out more than the others. And quite frankly, that moment hasn’t happened just yet or it’s still happening. LOL!  My husband and I have been trying to conceive since December 2015. We’ve both gone to the fertility doctor, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong. On the morning of April 4, 2018, I woke up with the song “Be Still” by Yolanda Adams in my spirit. It was awkward, because I hadn’t heard that song in years. From my recollection, I think I was a little sad that morning too, so I asked God to do something very specific for me (just like Gideon in Judges 6:36-40). I said, “God, if this is your way of soothing my spirit and encouraging me then the scripture that my Aunt Nancy sends today (she sends one EVERYDAY) will be Psalm 46:10.” About an hour or so later, I got a text message from my aunt and my heart was racing, I opened the text and it read “Be still and know that I am God” Psalm 46:10. I sat at my desk and cried. I’m sure if I was at home I would’ve shouted. After gathering myself, I made an Instagram post, because I wanted to remember the specific date to share it in my testimony. I’ve stood on that promise of God since that day. However, it hasn’t been easy because, honestly, it put a strain on our marriage for about 18 months. My husband and I have argued over “be still and know that I am God.” Unbeknownst to a lot of people, Ian isn’t biologically my husband’s son. In fact, my husband doesn’t have any biological children. Hence, the strain on our marriage and my husband’s anger! However, I trust God’s will and purpose for my life. I’ve learned to trust God’s “not right now!” (That’s another testimony/blog in itself)  Every time I feel myself getting a little perturbed (I am still human) God will send Psalm 46:10 as reminder. He did it recently. On the morning of my 34th birthday, Aunt Flow showed up and I wanted to cry. I asked God, “Is it okay if we try insemination?” Thirty minutes later, my aunt sends her daily text and you know what the scripture was: Psalm 46:10! I cried and thanked God for always being right on time. So, even though I haven’t given birth to her yet, this trial, valley, lesson or whatever you want to call it, is definitely changing my life. I’ve realized that I’m actually stronger than I thought I was, that my love for God is so deep. I will fight anyone about Him, and I understand what it means to be longsuffering. Most importantly, I know without any doubt, the faith I have, God gave it to me, and I remind Him of that every chance I get. #wepreach

My morning routine two to three days out the week consists of pulling into the drive thru at a local Starbucks, while simultaneously chitchatting with my work BFF on my SUV’s Bluetooth.  I pause the conversation to place the usual, overpriced order of a tall- blonde- vanilla latte with bacon and cheese egg bites… I pull forward and continue with my phone conversation.   A few months back a recollect a morning that was a bit unusual.  I reached the window and fumbled to open the app to pay, only to hear the barista mumble something?!?!  I paused the call, with my work BFF, and ask the server to repeat her statement… “It’s on the house, the car ahead has already paid.”  My mood and demeanor instantly changed. The inner fat child that exists within is twerking and doing cartwheels thinking, “Who doesn’t love free food?  My thoughts begin to take flight, as a Woman…I over think/ analyze everything… “Should I continue the deed?  I glanced backwards… let me see how many people are in the car behind me, how much is their order, does it cost more than mine…? Then I began to think about Jesus and his sacrifice.  He decided to die for me and you before we were in our mothers’ wombs.  That is the ultimate sacrifice and gratitude of paying it forward! He would not come down from the cross to save himself, so for that reason…   I GIVE… I am a GIVER. I don’t like to be boastful as I know that all earthly possessions are blessings from God, so if he touches me to bless someone, big or small whether they ask or not, generally I will.   Now, I’m perfect there are times when I am disobedient and fall short of what God requires and he is sure to reprimand and remind me…. That twenty dollars I was supposed to give to someone, turns into a 20 dollar fine somewhere else or an unexpected expense.  I know that it is God reminding me of his requirement. He is in control and I’m just a pawn in his massive game of chess. He’s trying to advance me forward to assist in saving souls by spreading the good news, and at times, I’m pushing back to stay on my comfortable square on the board. Giving is a positive energy source in its entirety… the more you give the more God gives to you and it kinetically transfers to others as a gift that keeps giving. Needless to say, I decided to keep the chain going and paid for the car behind me.  Pay it forward or risk falling backwards.  #wepreach

Sunday’s sermon cut to the heart of the current atmosphere we are encountering.  Pastor spoke of his own struggles with worry.  He spoke of other’s struggles with worry.  And then he provided a remedy that is found in God’s word. The sermon was pulled from Matthew 6:25-34.  In these scriptures, Jesus himself tells us multiple times “do not worry.”  Jesus speaks of the birds in the air.  The birds don’t fly around wondering where their next meal comes from, and they don’t plant food or store it in barns.  They just fly and look for the next meal.  They know it’s somewhere out there. Jesus then speaks of the lilies in the field.  I don’t know about you, but I love flowers.  I’m partial to hydrangeas.  Flowers come in beautiful colors.  They are a joy to look at.  Sometimes, they even smell delightful.  Jesus reminds those listening to Him that the flowers don’t clothe themselves in their beauty.  The flowers don’t feed themselves or clock in to a nine to five, and they’re still flourishing.  God provides for them. Then Jesus comes with the one-two punch.  If God feeds the birds and clothes the flowers, don’t you think that God will provide for you?  After all, God knows that we need food, clothing and shelter.  He’s a good, good Father.  And good Father’s take care of and provide for their children. The sermon was on time for me!!!  On Friday, my job announced that we would be closing our doors for two weeks.  I was dreading this announcement.  I have been very open and shared with you that my finances have been pulled tight because of my ineffectual stewardship.  My next check was going to be the first check that I was fully out of the hole on onto the right path.  And then Friday happened. Do you want to know something strange?  When the announcement came, I had peace.  I instantly thought about finishing the things that God has been pulling me to do, but I’ve been too “busy.”  Of course, I thought of my financial situation, but a teacher shared her testimony with me which was further confirmation that God would provide. What is the remedy for worry?  Worship.  The Bible doesn’t explicitly state that worship is the remedy, but it does say that we need to seek first the kingdom of God.  Then everything that we’ve been worrying about will be added to us.  Seeking God’s kingdom requires the right attitude in troubling times.  Seeking God’s kingdom requires us to move into the right actions. My current attitude is one of thankfulness.  My actions are to finish the book God placed in my heart.  I know it has kingdom purpose.  He was waiting for me to get in line.  What attitude and actions are you going to take to worship God?  We COULD sit and rock ourselves and moan.  Or we could be about the Father’s business.  And then everything else will fall in line.  #wepreach

Howdy!  Welcome to BSG week on the Bible Study Girl blog!!!!!!  It’s been a minute since I explained what a BSG is, so let me refresh your memory.  Way back in 2011, I sent out a mass email/text message and invited all the women that I knew in Central Arkansas to join in on a Bible Study.  Of the people that were invited, we ended up with a core group of six women that met weekly to discuss the things that we learned during the Bible study that week. Every great group needs a name.  I don’t remember who came up with the name, but Bible Study Girls was chosen as the winning moniker.  Since we come from a culture that believes in nicknames, our natural tendency was to shorten the name.  We called ourselves the BSG’s.  Now that we’re all on the same page, let the festivities begin!!! The idea of having a BSG week on the Bible Study Girl blog had been floating around in my head for a while.  I was wanting a drawing, and my BSG, Celisha, came to mind.  I sent her a text to commission her work, and she called me.  We started talking about life, and I realized just how much I missed her. See, we stopped meeting for Bible study in around 2014.  When we first started Bible study, we had one newlywed, who was expecting a baby, and five single ladies.  We also had one BSG kid who came as a package deal with his mom.  As we continued to do life together, our BSG family expanded.  We married off three of the single ladies and welcomed two bouncing Bible study babies.  Life was great!!!  And it got very full. So, our weekly Bible study sessions were a thing of the past.  Even though we didn’t meet weekly anymore, we saw each other on special occasions.  Birthday parties…Christmas.  We squeezed it in.  We even had a reunion trip to Gulf Shores in October of 2018.  We stayed up late, laughed, and talked about how much our lives had changed. The phone call with Celisha brought back a flood of memories.  I sent out a text to the troops.  It was time to circle our wagons and see each other again.  We met for dinner.  We ate, we laughed, and then we talked about how much our lives had changed.  Tomica (Bible Study Cousin) brought up a possible BSG week on the Bible Study Girl blog, and, to my surprise, everyone quickly agreed. (With the exception of my bestie.  I wasn’t even going to ask her because I already knew the answer….LOL…I tried to tell them, but they didn’t believe me.) That brings us to this momentous week.  The first EVER BSG week!!!  This week you will hear from Celisha, Toyia, Tomica, and myself.  We have all written about one moment that changed our lives.  The moments are different for all of us and cover a wide spectrum of topics.  I believe they will bless you, because they have certainly blessed me. I don’t know that I could ever articulate just how special the BSG’s are to me.  They carved out a place in my life that is one of a kind.  It can’t be replicated.  We saw God move and answer prayers.  We lifted Him high while kneeling at His feet.  We were changed in ways that made us world changers. Tomorrow we’ll have the sermon recap as usual, and then you get to hear from my sisters in Christ.  Oh, how I love them, and I’m sure you will too!  #wepreach

A storm is brewing.  I can hear the thunder rolling.  It’s not a constant boom.  It comes and goes.  Fitz, my cat, keeps running to the window to figure out what is going on.  He’s used to the steady hum of traffic, but this sound is different.  It’s unsettling. As I watch him run back and forth in a frenzy, I’m reminded of the state of America today.  Coronavirus has arrived on American soil and much of the nation is in a panic. Now, I’ll be honest.  Most of my information about the virus came from secondhand sources.  You know, the Facebook philosophers and Instagram professors.  Or I’d ask Bible Study Mama if I should be concerned.  She’s a nurse.  I figured she wouldn’t steer me wrong. In the midst of the panic, I’ve been calm.  I started to second guess myself today when the schools decided to close for two weeks.  Was there something I was missing?  I decided to educate myself about the coronavirus.  I didn’t need to continue to base my life decisions on second-hand opinions.  The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention was my destination for up to date information.  They have lovely charts and graphs that describe the virus.  They also provide charts that describe action steps that individuals and families at home, schools, and workplaces can take to prevent spread of the disease in the community. Prevention is key, and they repeated the same information several times.  Wash your hands for at least 20 seconds.  Keep your hands away from your nose mouth and eyes.  Wash your hands.  If washing is not an option, keep plenty of hand sanitizer on deck and don’t be afraid to use it.  Clean surfaces daily to prevent transmission of disease.  Wash your hands again. As usual, I found myself getting sucked into the rabbit hole of information.  There were so many tabs that I could explore.  Once I started, it was difficult to stop.  Eventually, my search came to an end.  And I was still calm.  I know the virus is real, but I serve a God who is bigger.  Now, I’m not a person that gets into the snake pit with venomous snakes to test out God’s protection.  But I am wise enough to know that God is a healer, protector, and provider.  I’m washing my hands of the situation.  You should too. (Seriously, wash your hands folks!)  #wepreach

Adam and Eve lived in paradise.  They didn’t have to clock in and out on a job to put a roof over their head or food on their table.  Everything around them was good.  And yet, Eve was still deceived by Satan.  Wednesday night’s Bible study continued to refresh my mind and help me press on towards true victory. In the 2nd and 3rd chapter of Genesis, we see God provide clear instruction, and then we see Eve being led astray.  God tells Adam that he can eat from every tree in the garden except the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.  That shouldn’t be too hard, right?   Everything around him is good.  Does he really need to know what evil is? Satan believes that Adam and Eve should know what evil is.  At this point, he has already been kicked out of heaven.  He cracks his knuckles and gets to work on being his cunning self.  He hits Eve in a vulnerable place with the smoothest line that gets her wheels turning.  He peaks her curiosity by suggesting that God doesn’t want her to know as much as He does.  The longer that Eve meditates on the falsehood, the easier it is was for her to push God’s clear instruction to the side. She not only takes and bites the fruit, but she passes the fruit along to her husband.  He eats of it as well.  Satan appealed to the part of Eve that wanted to be in control.  In an effort to be independent and self-sufficient, she cost herself much of her freedom.  And she then passed that independent attitude on to her husband. Before we are too hard on Eve, let’s take a good, long look at ourselves.  Satan is cunning.  He’s the kind of guy that throws a rock and then hides his hand.  He doesn’t want you to know that it was him.  Often, he doesn’t come to us with scenarios that are far fetched or outlandish.  He whispers suggestions that are just a little off from the truth.  The more that we hear the suggestions…the longer that we meditate on his half-truths…the easier it us for us to fall victim to his schemes.  So, what does that mean in a practical sense?  We have to guard the environments that we’re in.  We need to be attentive to the people that we have close relationships with.  Some people are miserable and spend all day complaining.  Over time, the simple suggestions of Satan become a part of our everyday lives.  Sin is normalized. God provides clear instruction, and we don’t get to change the rules to suit our needs, to suit the times, or to justify our actions.  We can’t be half in and half out.  You are not a disciple of Christ if you are not living by the rules and precepts that He set.  #wepreach

Although I can be rebellious, at my core, I’m a rule follower.  I like decency.  I like order.  I carry that same spirit into my driving.  No texting while driving.  Follow the speed limit.  We’ll all get there when we’re supposed to.  And then I moved to Houston. Houston is one of the largest cities in the country.  The interstates are massive and filled with traffic.  Unlike me, all these drivers had somewhere to be, and they needed to be there immediately. I won’t forget the first time that I laid eyes on the huge interstate.  I accepted my job without having ever been to Houston.  I didn’t even really comprehend just how large the city was until the two-lane road continued to expand and add lanes.  Thankfully, Bible Study Mama was driving.  She’s a beast on the interstate (and the city streets).  It wasn’t until she left that I had to face the interstates on my own. I was nervous.  At that time, I was a timid driver.  I would put my signal on, but nobody would let me over.  I learned that I had to take my lane.  See an opening and go for it.  No hesitation.  I adjusted to the speed and rhythm of city life.  It was my new normal. Then, I moved back to Arkansas.  The place that I had lived most of my adult life.  The place that I had initially learned to drive.  And it was a challenge.  See, I had adapted to being an aggressive driver.  It was second nature.  More than once, a family member told me to calm down.  I was home now.  That’s not how we drive here. What habits have you developed to help you survive in this crazy world that are not habits that God wants you to have?  I know that I have built a wall around me.  But I built the wall to protect myself from people.  Because people hurt you.  And in order to survive in this world, I needed to adapt. I have difficulty letting people in, but God is removing those bricks little by little.  He didn’t create me to live alone and do life by myself.  And if I’m truly a by the book kind of gal, I MUST live by the Word of God.  Changing to fit into the pace of this world will do me no good.  This is not my home.  Heaven is.  And that’s not how things are done there.  #wepreach

This blog started out as a way for me to share my faith.  In the process, it has become a way for me to sort through my emotions.  It has become a way for me to channel my energies in a positive direction.  It has forced me to look long and hard at myself and evaluate the state of my faith life. I’m thrilled that I have a platform to share my faith and triumphs.  A safe place to discuss downfalls and defeats.  This past Sunday was a triumph.  On Sunday, Bible Study Brother was licensed to minister.  People came from all over to pray with and encourage my baby brother.  It was a day to remember. It was also a day that required much preparation.  Bible Study Brother had been working on his sermon for months.  How do I know?  Because God was asking him to live out the topic of his sermon.  He preached about forgiveness.  If you’re new to this blog, you may have missed my brother and me discussing what forgiveness looked like in our relationship.  You can listen to the inaugural Bible Study Girl podcast or go back and read our blogs on forgiveness.  Or I could just tell you now that we had a hard row to hoe.  (Country slang…think of yourself in a garden with a hoe trying to break up the dirt to plant some corn but the ground is almost rock hard.  Hence…a hard row to hoe…) I’d be lying if I said it was easy.  I would be hypocritical if I said we just shrugged our disagreement off.  It took time, prayer, counseling, and a whole lot of Jesus.  Not so that God could change the other person but so that He could change us individually. The man that stood to deliver a sermon on forgiveness is not the Joe Baby that I knew even a couple of months ago.  He’s growing and changing.  He’s forgiving himself.  He’s forgiving others.  And he’s pressing forward into his purpose. He studied, prayed, and fasted for that moment.  He had some sad days and disappointing nights.  He sacrificed.  He surrendered.  And it showed.  He told us that he couldn’t begin a ministry with unforgiveness in his heart.  That God wanted him to place all those issues at the altar and leave them there. God wants the same thing for us even if we haven’t been licensed to minister the Gospel.  But we don’t need a license to tell the good news.  It should be flowing from our mouths continually.  It should be seeping from our pores.  Or has unforgiveness stopped your thanksgiving?  Has your bitterness billowed out in your speech?  Are you tormented by the debts that you feel others owe you? Today is the day to let it go.  Forgiveness will set you free.  #wepreach

Technology to the rescue once again!  I was celebrating the licensing of Bible Study Brother as a minister on Sunday, so I missed fellowshipping with my church family.  No worries.  I watched the replay on Facebook.  Here’s your sermon recap! Sunday’s sermon came from John 11:1-16.  Mary, Martha, and Lazarus were siblings who spent a lot of time with Jesus.  They loved Jesus, and He loved them.  Mary demonstrated her love for Jesus by anointing Him with fragrant oil and wiping His feet with her hair.  This family had a personal relationship with our Lord and Savior. In the text used in the sermon, Lazarus is sick.  Not like how men act when they get a cold.  He was sick-sick.  He was so ill that Mary and Martha sent word to Jesus.  They knew of His healing power and wanted Him to come and make Lazarus well.  Jesus announced that Lazarus’ sickness was not unto death but would bring glory to God.  He stayed where He was for two more days, and then proclaimed that it was time to return to Judea. Now the disciples know Lazarus is sick.  They know Jesus loves Lazarus.  But their response is to remind the Lord of how the Jews in Judea treated Jesus.  They’re all like, “Excuse me Jesus….but ummm….don’t you remember that they were looking to stone you.  You want us to go back there again??”  Well, all the disciples except for Thomas. Thomas is often called doubting Thomas.  He is the disciple who missed out on seeing Jesus in His resurrected body the first time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after His resurrection.  At that time, Thomas tells them that He won’t believe that they got to spend time with Jesus until he can put his hands in Jesus’ side and touch Jesus’ nail pierced hands.  This statement has followed Thomas for centuries.  And given him a bad rap.  But let’s look at devotion before the cross. See, the other disciples are worried about their own lives as well as the life of Jesus.  Surely, they had all interacted with Lazarus and had relationship with him too.  But in Lazarus’ time of need, the other disciples are looking out for self.  Thomas, on the other hand, is willing to follow Jesus into a very real possibility of death.  He has an exceptional willingness to go with Christ. Thomas was willing to sacrifice even unto the point of death.  Following Christ is more than cute church sayings on your coffee mug and t-shirts.  It’s more than visiting the nursing home every quarter with your Sunday School class.  Following Christ comes with a price.  It requires that we sacrifice ALL that we are to the One who gave us life.  We deny ourselves and follow Him.  #wepreach 

My first kiss happened in the rain.  Not a complete downpour and not a drizzle.  It was that spot in between.  And, for me, it was magical.  I’m a nerd from way back.  Books and my imagination have been my company since I can remember.  While I have a heart for people, I can often stay to myself.  Relationships get messy.  Communication falters.  You get hurt.  So, a first kiss was a teenage dream that I thought would evolve into a young adult dream.  Until it happened. For others, their teen years were a dream.  Child, I was dreaming of adulthood.  I wanted my own place, my own life.  I wanted to chart my own course and show my family the way that life was supposed to be lived.  I didn’t like the example of marital love that I had in my own home.  In my mind, I would do it different.  I would do it better.  But that wouldn’t happen if I couldn’t get a kiss. Clearly, I was an idealist.  As an adult, I have better perspective of what it takes to produce a strong marriage.  I realize that there are external pressures and internal struggles that impact the stability of a relationship.  People have to be willing to grow and mature together.  Both parties must be willing to do the work to have a relationship that will endure.  But as a dorky teenager, I was entangled in the mystery and wonder of a first kiss. How did I end up going on a tangent about my first kiss?  Well, yesterday I was thinking to myself that I wish I could take so many things back.  I want to rewind the past and erase some questionable choices-financial, relational, spiritual.  Then the song, “All in His Plan,” began to play in a loop in my head.  At one point in the song the singer says, “I dare you to trust Him right where you are.” It might not mean a thing to you, but it blessed me in my current struggles.  God is not stuck on the missteps that I had in the past.  I shouldn’t be either.  As I reflected on my past, my mind wandered all the way back to my very first kiss.  I had so much hope.  I was anxious.  I was anticipating it.  And when it happened, I wasn’t disappointed. God is doing a new thing in me and through me.  He wants to give me all that He has planned for me.  I have hope.  I’m anticipating it.  And when it happens, I won’t be disappointed.  #wepreach

A diamond is a chunk of coal that did well under pressure. I had a quote like this on my therapy wall for many years.  Doesn’t it sound good?  I can see people everywhere nodding their heads.  It just resonates with you and encourages you to keep going when life is pressing in on you from every side.  But…it’s not true. See, I was going to write a blog about how life can pressure you.  I was going to tell you that we are all formed from the dust.  Then I was going to segue and let you know that the process is shaping you and refining you into a diamond.  But before I made those statements, the Holy Spirit made me study the way that diamonds are formed.  And in the process, I discovered the truth. The first reputable source about diamond formation that I found had to be written for scientists.  Man, I was struggling!!!!  Far as I could tell, diamonds were formed in the core of the earth and shot to the surface through an eruption or something.  The only thing I knew for sure was that coal wasn’t involved. I could have Googled “diamond formation for dummies”, but I wasn’t thinking that clearly.  The next thing that came to mind was National Geographic for Kids.  Clearly, geology is not my thing.  I figured they would have a simple explanation that would help me unlock this mystery.  So, I searched the website for information about diamond formation.  The problem is that their information was too simple.  I needed more than they offered. Regular National Geographic was the perfect fount of information.  Diamonds are actually carbon that does well under extreme pressure and temperatures.  They are formed in the mantle of the earth and transported to the earth’s surface by kimberlite, a volcanic rock.  After the lava from an eruption cools, the diamonds can be found underneath.  Of course, you have to dig them out. Y’all it’s not a coincidence.  My Pastor literally just told me last night that the way to have true victory is to live by God’s Word.  I have to know what the Bible says in order to live it out.  And while that’s easy to type, it’s harder to practice in day to day life. Sometimes, the Bible is difficult to understand.  Especially if you pull out one of those hotel room Bibles.  It was written in language from another time.  Thankfully, we have translations that break it down into language that make it easier for you to digest.  I have found that the more time I spend studying the Bible, the more I want to know. I read more than one translation of the same verse.  I start with New King James Version and work my way through several versions until I get an understanding.  It requires dedication and diligence.  It requires a hunger for wisdom.  It requires the pressure for wanting a victorious life.  We can all find diamonds, and be diamonds, if we dig deep enough.  #wepreach

The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy.  I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. John 10:10 When I know that I’m on my way to get Bible teaching, I pray that God gives me a Word that I’m able to live out in my day to day life.  I don’t want to just go and hear about Biblical principles.  I want practical ways to make those principles alive in my life.  This Wednesday night Refresh at church gave me a key ingredient to living a life of victory. Pastor opened Bible study by reading John 10:10. This verse talks about the thief.  If you’ve been in church any length of time, you know the verse that I’m referencing.  The thief only comes to steal, and to kill, and to destroy.  This verse is heard often in church.  Seasoned saints only need to hear the first few words before they’re quoting the scripture in harmony. Pastor went on to say that the thief doesn’t always look menacing or threatening.  They don’t always come with foul words or harsh language.  But when it’s all said and done, you’ll know the thief has been there.  The evidence of the stealing, killing, or destroying will remain.  It’s the thief’s signature. For years, I’ve automatically credited Satan with being the thief.  Bible study on Wednesday challenged my thinking, because quite frankly, sometimes I’m the thief.  I robbed myself of time fooling with the wrong man.  I destroyed energy and resources.  I killed some of my dreams.  I know I’m not alone.  Thankfully, all hope is not lost.  I told you I got some practical advice, and I’m thrilled to share it. Jesus laid out the blueprint for victory over every situation that has been tainted by the thief.  In John 8:31, He provides the disciples with a conditional statement.  “If you abide in My word, you are my disciples indeed.”  Meaning, they don’t get to call themselves disciples if they are not living out His Word.  We can’t claim victory or expect to live victoriously if we’re not living out the word of God.  And we can’t live out the word of God if we don’t know what it says for ourselves. The practical tip and solution for true victory is to read your Bible.  Crack it open and flip through the pages.  Or pull the app up on your phone.  We don’t have an excuse.  The Bible is so easily accessible to us.  We can’t live by our standards and expect to have lives of triumph and abundance.  Jesus came so that we could have life and have it more abundantly.  We must decide if we want our way or His.  #wepreach

My church’s focus this year is on becoming “one.”  We’re not supposed to just be people that see each other at church on Sundays.  The goal is to create an environment of unity.  To function on one accord.  In the past when I thought of unity, it generally involved the institution of marriage.  It evoked images of two single tapered lit candles coming together to light the flame of a fat candle.  Then the flames of the single candles were extinguished.  Because the two had become one. Such a simple and beautiful image.  And so difficult to orchestrate in our everyday lives.  Unity has the power to change the world.  To right the wrongs in society.  To set captives free.  But we still won’t get on board. I watched the movie “Harriet” back in November, and it stirred something within me.  Of course, I had learned of Harriet Tubman back in elementary school during Black History month.  She was the “conductor” of the Underground Railroad.  Harriet had already secured her freedom.  That wasn’t enough for her.  She wanted to offer the gift of freedom to those that she had left behind. So, she traveled back to the enslaved south and led those who were in captivity to freedom.  Of course, the idea of freedom was appealing.  When you’re bound, you dream of being free.  But on the journey to a new life, the reality of the hardship of the journey would begin to set in.  People would panic and want to turn back.  Harriet didn’t send them on their way.  She would draw her gun and tell them, “You’ll be free or die.” No turning back.  No other options.  They were a unit on their way to a set destination.  The fight and determination of Harriet Tubman led over 300 slaves to freedom.  She realized that she wasn’t alone in this world.  She knew how to be delivered, and she was desperate to give others the same opportunity that she had. She didn’t do it alone.  The Underground Railroad was a network of individuals of all gender and race working together for the greater good of an oppressed people.  We won’t ever know the names of all the people who had a hand in such a life changing ministry.  They operated in the spirit of unity.  No one wanted to see their name on the program or on the back of the pew.  They realized that lives were at stake.  I wonder when we, the body of Christ, will realize the same.  #wepreach

When I was a kid, I despised peas.  I know most kids don’t like vegetables but that wasn’t the case for me.  I thoroughly enjoyed vegetables.  My great-grandmother made the best cabbage on this side of glory.  I referred to cabbage as Cabbage Patch Kids and often requested more.  So, I didn’t have a disdain for all vegetables.  Just those sweet, little, squishy peas. My mom was a stickler for family dinner when I was younger.  We sat at the dinner table and were required to eat all that was on our plates if we wanted dessert.  And boy, my mom made some delicious meals.  Except for the times that she added peas to the menu. See, I’m a dessert with every meal kind of girl.  On nights that peas made the dinner menu, I faced a dilemma.  How do I get through this ENTIRE meal so that I can get my dessert???  I really want the sweet stuff!!!!  If you’ve been reading these blogs for any length of time, you know that I had a plan….LOL. I sat at the dinner table like a nice, obedient child would and should.  I would begin to eat various parts of my meal.  When my parents got really into their conversation, I would place all the peas in my mouth. I would ask to be excused from the table so that I could go and use the restroom.  Once safely in the restroom, I would spit that squishy mess into the toilet, flush, and then return to the table to finish the rest of my meal. And that worked beautifully for a while.  Until the day I got caught.  Dum, dum, dum.  I don’t remember if I had to skip out on dessert that night.  I don’t even know if I was punished, but I do remember the emotions that rose up when I was caught in the act.  I was frustrated, embarrassed, angry, and resentful at the same time.  I was a good kid!  I ate my vegetables!  Why would you keep serving me the one thing that you know I don’t like??? I find myself in that same position and with those same emotions when God tests me in areas that I don’t want to grow in.  He wants my taste buds to grow and mature the longer that I serve Him.  And I push back.  God, I go to Sunday School.  I attend Wednesday night Bible study.  Can we just get to the sweet parts of the journey??  I think I do enough…and then He catches me.  With a half-in attitude.  A rush to get through this study attitude.  A let me slide this in under the radar attitude. God is calling me and you for more.  Not as a punishment.  But because He knows what to feed us to help us grow strong in Him.  We don’t get all the nutrients that are required for growth when we only want to participate in the sweet parts of life.  There are days when life is hard, and we need the nutrients from regular, personal time with Him to get us through.  Eat your peas folks!  #wepreach

Faith has been a running theme in my life here lately.  Saturday was officially my four-year anniversary of being a homeowner.  When I began to look for a home, I found the perfect one.  I paid for the home inspection and appraisal on the house.  While on a cruise, I got the news that the deal fell through.  I was devastated.  Basically, I was told that I just wouldn’t ever be in position to own a home.  I lost faith. Sunday’s sermon peeled back the layers of what we consider to be faith.  Pastor came from Hebrews 11 and challenged me to recognize where I place my faith.  Hebrews 11 is known as the Hall of Faith.  The heavy hitters in scripture are listed and recognized for their faith journeys. We see Abel, Noah, Abraham, Jacob, Joseph, Moses, and other Israelite heroes counted in the number of those who had great faith.  Each person is created with persevering by faith.  The words “by faith” permeate the chapter and give me shivers.  Because I thought I was operating in faith.  Until Sunday’s sermon. See, at the end of Hebrews 11, the writer says that all the heroes of faith didn’t receive what was promised.  <Record screech>  Flag on the play.  Wait a minute.  What?!?!  You mean to tell me that these well-known people who were credited for their faith didn’t receive what was promised??? I was perplexed.  I was unsettled.  I was ready for the answer to this predicament.  And the answer unfolded.  Faith doesn’t always allow us to get what we want.  We get super spiritual when faith is involved.  We claim material things.  We claim health.  We claim victory over what we consider to be dead end jobs.  But can we claim that we’re in communication with God?  You know Him?  Our Creator.  Often our declarations of faith are just an attempt to manipulate a God who has all power.  Y’all God wants us to come to Him with more than our hands stretched out asking for more.  He wants us to place our faith in HIM and not whatever we are wanting OF Him.  Will we love Him even if He doesn’t move the way that we want Him to?  Or is our faith in the resources that He can dole out? When we put our faith IN God, and not our desires, it always leads to something better.  The Bible says that the heroes of faith didn’t receive what was promised SINCE God had provided something better.  Something better is always good news.  And sometimes, we don’t get to experience our something better on Earth.  Parts of me cringe when I hear that, but I know it’s true.  I’m so used to getting things my way and getting them now.  It takes maturity to wait on a promised gift.  I know parents everywhere have experience with kids that don’t get what they want, when they want it.  We talk about our kids, but are we any better when it comes to waiting for our rewards? You already know that I’m a homeowner, so ultimately God provided.  The house was trashy.  There was mold.  Disgusting carpet.  Disorienting wall colors.  An axe mark in the front door.  To others, it didn’t look like much.  To me, it was the fulfillment of His promise.  The interior of the home looks nothing like what it did when I began this journey.  My prayer is that you allow God to remake your heart and redefine your faith.  I promise you’ll experience something better.  #wepreach

God has been speaking to me so clearly these days.  It’s not an audible voice.  Usually while I’m reading scriptures, certain scriptures leap out to me.  They stick in my mind, and I’ll hear them repeated in various ways as I go about my day.  Waaaaaay back in the beginning of this blog, I spoke about being anointed.  I felt strongly that God had called me and chosen me to work for Him. I couldn’t put my finger on the exact thing that He wanted from me.  But I knew that I was His, and He had an assignment in mind.  The thing is, we’re all chosen by God.  He wants us All to pick up our crosses and follow Him daily.  Because we’re chosen. Some people love to be chosen.  I’m the people that I’m referring to.  Choose me to be on your team when it’s game night for friends.  Choose me when you’re looking to give someone a raise.  Choose my number when you are giving away door prizes.  Choose me to be your wife.  Choose me to plan your party. But I neglect to count the cost of being chosen.  Every time we’re chosen for something it comes with an obligation.  Many times, I’m not actually ready to live out what being chosen entails.  When you choose me to be on your team for game night that requires my focus.  Because I want to win, I have to stay in tune with each game.  I need to be ready to come up with winning strategies.  I may have to call some audibles when you send the wrong teammate up at a critical time. Parties are my thing!  I love creating a master plan and fine tuning every detail.  But when you choose me to plan YOUR party, it’s not all my way or the highway.  I must listen to what you want and make YOUR dreams come to life.  No one wants to show up to a party and find that none of their vision has come to pass.  I have to keep your desires in mind.  After all, you chose me. We have been chosen by God.  After we get over the thrill of being chosen, the real work begins.  What are we willing to sacrifice to live our lives in the way that God intends?  Truly being chosen comes with an awesome obligation and responsibility.  You have been given the opportunity to walk with God daily.  When you mess up…when you fall short, pick yourself up and get right back to work.  He chose you for a reason.  #wepreach

I don’t mean no harm.  Five simple words.  But when my grandmother begins a sentence that way, you better brace yourself for what’s coming after.  It’s probably going to hit you right in your feelings.  Interestingly enough, she didn’t even realize that she prepped people for her bombs until Bible Study Brother and I pointed it out to her.  It was just part of her vernacular. Most of the family calls my grandmother by her nickname, Boolie.  My great-great uncle gave her the nickname when she was a child, and it lives on to this day.  And I can’t imagine what life would be like without Boolie in it. My grandma has always meant the world to me.  She is not your run of the mill grandma.  At least, not to me.  She is vivacious and has a zest for life that draws you in.  I love her gigantic laugh and her huge imagination.  It’s only recently that I realized how much of me is her. How did I come to this realization?  Glad you asked.  Bible Study Brother and I were getting ready to record a podcast when grandma called my cell phone.  I asked grandma if she would consider recording a podcast with us.  In all actuality, I was just waiting for her five simple words to drop.  But she took me by surprise and readily agreed.  Listen, I come from a questioning family.  They want to know why you did it, what you had on, what it smelled like in the room, and precisely how many bus stops it is from there to your brother’s house.  Like all the questions.  And she didn’t have a single one for me. Recording day arrived, and we jumped right into it.  Y’all she was a natural.  Of course, I’m biased, but I was blown away.  I learned so much about her that I didn’t know.  I had questioned her about various aspects of her life and knew the major parts of her story, but this was different.  We really got to the heart of who she is. Spoiler alert- I cried.  But you can’t tell because I just let her talk.  I’m so thankful that I have a recording of her story in her own words.  It’s not a tell-all, but it told me a lot about who I am.  About strongholds in families.  About legacy.  About love. Everyone doesn’t get a chance to sit and talk with the legends in their life.  I don’t take it lightly that she was willing to be so open about her faith journey.  The conversation was so good that we had to split it into three episodes.  Saturday her first episode drops, and you DON’T want to miss it.  Although the recording is over, we are going to keep the conversation open.  Take the time to have authentic conversations with the ones you love.  I don’t mean no harm, but time waits on no man.  #wepreach

Wednesdays hold a special place in my heart.  Not because it’s hump day, but because I get the opportunity to sit under good teaching.  I’m hungry for the Word of God.  And the more I get, the more I want.  This past Wednesday was extra special for many reasons.  It was the beginning of Lent.  It was Bible Study Cousin’s birthday.  And Shun Strickland was teaching at church for our Ladies Night Out. Shun Strickland is a pastor and personal transformation coach.  She taught at our women’s conference a couple of years back, and she was phenomenal.  When she spoke at the women’s conference, she confirmed things that the Lord was telling me.  I began to follow her on social media after the conference, and that was that.  So, I was definitely ready to see what round two would hold. Y’all round two was no holds barred.  She refreshed our souls by talking about the power of the Holy Spirit that lies in every believer.  When you accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior, the Holy Spirit begins to dwell in you.  It’s not Jesus in you.  It’s the Holy Spirit.  The Comforter that Jesus said that He was going to send. Notice that I said earlier that the Holy Spirit holds power.  The unfortunate fact is that many of us Christians don’t access or tap into the power that is inside each one of us.  We play it “safe” and go through the motions of life.  We spend time in prayer asking Jesus to meet needs and get frustrated when our lives seem to go on as usual.  We are disenchanted.  We lose hope. But we can’t be mad at Jesus.  He kept His end of the bargain and sent the Holy Spirit to us.  We need to be mad at ourselves because we ignore the power at work in us.  How do we access this power?  It’s so simple that it might make you feel as stupid as I did.  We have to ask the Holy Spirit inside of us to direct our lives. See, the thing that I love and hate about blogging is that you get to see my growth in real time.  I’ve been going on and on about prayer and being closer to God.  Now boom.  It’s in my face.  I can’t live a holy life if I’m not asking the HOLY Spirit what I should do. You know that I’m believing God for the supernatural.  I have my eyes peeled for miracles, signs, and wonders, and I feel that this is the key that will unlock those doors.  I’m not going to be a faith punk and play down my God.  God has given me visions that are bigger than I can comprehend.  And He’s also provided people that are speaking into my life and daring me to believe that He will do all that He’s shown me. Holy Spirit, I thank you for Your Presence.  Let me hear Your voice clearly as I journey through this life.  I want to obey You quickly every time I hear Your voice.  Give me clarity of mind.  Make me bold.  Amen.  #wepreach

Love. When I was tasked with writing this entry about love and what it means to me, I was instantly like “I’m about to write this in 30 minutes or less; I’m freshly married, I know what love is”. 30 minutes turned to three days, which then turned to almost two weeks later. I had to seriously pray about what love truly means to me, because its more than just a feeling or action. It really is a culmination of so many emotions, thoughts and actions – both mentally and physically. I know what it feels like to be in love romantically. Having the “goosies” or butterflies when you’re with or think about that special person, wanting to be around them as much as possible. Having someone you can share your intimate thoughts and ideas with as well as be your true self in their presence. It’s a feeling that I believe most of us ultimately long for, without realizing love is work. Entering my first full year of marriage in November has greatly changed and challenged me to think bigger than my original thinking of what I thought love and even marriage entailed. It has truly required more of God and less of me. From arguments, to knowing when you’re wrong and need to apologize, thinking of someone else’s feelings before your own at times, communicating and sharing feelings, showing affection and being attentive – the list could keep going. All of my rambling brings me to several key points. Love is not just one thing, one feeling or expression. It’s a combination of understanding, forgiveness acceptance and trust. Without any of these things, how would a relationship thrive? Not just a romantic relationship, but even with friends or family members. Realizing that the people you love do have flaws and do make mistakes, opens a larger window to give love, let the best you shine and be accepting. In this, I can only think of this being how God sees all of us. Oh, so imperfect, but loveable in the same breath. I think of all of the questionable things I’ve said and done, and in those times where I’ve felt most alone, how He has picked me up, shown me different ways of thinking and being, allowed me to look at life with a different perspective and through it all LOVED me is enough to bring me to tears. Being loved in times when you don’t know how to love yourself is nothing short of a blessing from God. If we could remove so much of our own egos and habits, the love we could share with each other can be so grand and so sincere. So, what is love to me? It’s removing the walls that my circumstances have caused me to put up and allowing myself to share that same love that God has for me with people I encounter daily. Starting with family and friends and letting that bleed over into the harder areas such as work. I challenge you to try to understand those around you on a deeper level, forgive those who’ve hurt you, accept the people around you for who they are, and allow yourself to be more trusting. I believe the word love will mean so much more in the end. #wepreach

By now, you probably realize that I like to eat.  Nothing thrills my heart more than a casual nacho potluck among friends.  Everyone pitches in, and before you know it, you have an amazing meal at your hands.  Recently the call went out for a nacho potluck, and I was PUMPED!  I prepared my contribution and brought it with me. If only life were that simple.  If only MY life were that simple.  See, there were several snags along the way to an amazing meal.  The person in charge of the queso sent out a message to say that they weren’t going to make it to the party.  One person forgot that taco day had arrived.  They tiptoed off and bought and then cooked some ground beef.  Since they had to go to the store anyway, they bought the queso as well.  Mini crisis averted.  It’s time to chow down, right? Wrong.  When all the food was spread out and the line began to form, someone asked “Where are the chips?”  Great question!  Where are these chips?  We began to look around.  Maybe they just got misplaced.  You can’t have nachos without tortilla chips.  Is it possible that no one signed up for the chips?!?! A scroll through text messages settled the confusion.  There was an entire misunderstanding, but the fact remained that we were chip-less.  Chips were quickly procured, and the feast began.  And it was DELICIOUS!  Although I have pretty well mastered not moaning when I eat, this meal made it tough.  It was worth the snafus. I’m looking at many of my life challenges through a spiritual lens.  Currently, I’m determined to be all that God has called me to be.  Although the nacho story is trivial, it mirrors what my attitude should be when I face obstacles.  I came to the party with my contribution (my gifts and talents).  I wasn’t worried about not eating.  I had the expectation that we would all dine, and that it would be a marvelous time. Some people weren’t fully prepared.  But that didn’t make me throw my contribution away or hoard it for myself.  I waited with the expectation that we were all going to eat.  Right when we lined up to partake and realized we didn’t have the ingredient that would set it off, someone stepped up to the plate and met the need.  And we all ate. This is encouragement for me and you as well.  We are called the body of Christ because we all have offerings that help us function.  We need each other.  The world needs your gifts and talents.  They’re hungry for them.  When we all present our very special contributions to the world, we get to enjoy the most divine and satisfying encounters.  We all get to eat and be satisfied.  #wepreach

When I’m going on a road trip, I put my destination into Google Maps.  Google Maps spits out multiple options to reach my destination.  Sometimes, the shortest route is not the route I choose.  To some people that seems weird.  But Google Maps has a feature that allows you to eliminate routes that have a toll road.  I make sure that feature is on because I want to avoid tolls if at all possible.  What happens when the quickest way to your destination is not the way that God directs you to go?  My Pastor tackled “The Blessing of the Long Route” in his sermon on Sunday, and it blessed my soul.  I’m hoping it blesses yours too.  Let’s get to it. Sunday’s sermon came from Luke 9:51-56.  Jesus has his face set toward Jerusalem.  He had a sure destination in mind.  The quickest way to get to Jerusalem required Jesus and the disciples to go through Samaria.  Well, the Samaritans wanted no parts of Jesus and His crew.  They weren’t welcome there. Jesus had some real riders in His crew.  When the disciples James and John saw that they weren’t welcome, they pitched a fit.  They were ready to unleash fire from heaven.  They wanted to set it off.  Jesus rebuked these two disciples and chose the long route. Jesus could have gotten distracted by the rejection that arose in Samaria.  He knows who He is.  Fully God.  Fully Man.  He has a team of angels ready to right wrongs at His Word.  But unlike so many of us, Jesus doesn’t get distracted.  Samaria is not His destination.  He has a mission.  He has purpose. But why would my Lord and Savior choose to go the long route?  I already told ya’ll that I’m trying to maximize my time.  I have a full life so I’m constantly organizing and prioritizing to make things flow.  The more I can get done, the better.  Or is that better? Because in today’s message, Jesus took the long route.  Jesus was certainly in a time press.  He knew that His ministry would impact the world for eternity.  If anyone had a reason to cut through or weave through traffic, it was Jesus.  His face was set toward Jerusalem and yet He took the long route.  That means that long routes have purpose. I’ve made some huge missteps in my life.  I think of all the time that I’ve wasted, and I get discouraged.  But I can’t discount my journey.  My biggest disappointments and setbacks have taught me so much.  Today’s sermon reaffirmed that long routes can develop character that will equip you to be the person that God wants you to be. As Pastor stated, God provides strength for whatever your route may be.  Whether your route is long or short, God will be with you every step of the way.  Set your face on your destination.  Be mindful of the purpose that God has placed inside of you and daily take steps toward your expected end.  If you get a little off course, the Holy Spirit will be your Google Maps and get you back in line. #wepreach

It’s a beautiful day.  I was able to sleep in this morning.  My feet didn’t have to hit the ground running.  I tossed and turned while cuddled up in my quilt.  My cat, Fitz, is taking a nap in one of his favorite napping spots.  He’s not trying to distract me while I type.  I can hear Fitz’s water fountain running, and the sound is tranquil…peaceful even. Although my afternoon and evening are full, I had this morning to just relax…breathe…to just be.  As the day has worn on, I had to remind myself to get it together.  I can’t remain in my state of inactivity all the time.  It’s honestly like a drug to me.  I started my personal time yesterday when I got off work, and I’ve been on a roll ever since.  See, I just made the declaration this week that I would make spending time alone with God a priority.  I’m not of the mindset that I can’t live or participate in regular activities.  I don’t believe that I can’t ever listen to hip-hop, R&B, rap, or country.  My tv doesn’t remain tuned to Christian channels.  But I DO recognize that life is precious, and I must be a good steward of the time that I have on this earth. Part of my stewardship is devotion to prayer.  I must be honest.  Most of the time, I don’t feel like praying.  For several different reasons.  I battle with myself about the right way to do it.  I wonder if He hears what I’m saying.  I question if my motives are pure.  Why do I want what I want?  Are my thoughts and desires lining up with what God wants for me?  GOD WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?  LORD WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME?  The crazy thing is that I won’t get the answers to my questions if I don’t talk to Him.  Prayer is talking to God.  It’s taking all of me to Him EVERY DAY and laying it before Him.  Even if it’s old news.  Even if it’s the same as the day before.  During my “me” time, I was bingeing a show on Netflix.  The common thread of discord in all the relationships was that they had horrible communication skills.  The couples with the best relationships were the ones who were honest and willing to tell their truths.  Not in a disrespectful manner, but with the attitude that they didn’t want any parts of themselves to be held back from the person that they loved.  They wanted to give all of themselves in the hope that the person would take them as they were. Ya’ll, I already have a relationship with someone who will take little old raggedy me as I am.  Sitting here writing this has made me realize that my prayer time with God is a MUST.  I don’t want a fractured relationship with Him because I don’t take the time to give Him all of me.  He already took me as I am, and He’s waiting on me to be fully committed.  The Bible says “ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.”  I’m going to take God at His Word and trust the process.  #wepreach

I’m a habitual oiler. Anytime I get out of the shower or bathtub, I slather oil everywhere. My skin can be really dry so I try to cut the ashiness (that may not be a word) off at the pass. That means that every morning I sit on the bench at the foot of my bed and oil my feet first. I was sitting at my dining room table typing the other evening. I threw my foot into my dining room chair. I did a double take. The toe next to my big toe seemed a little off. I looked closer. Where had this spot come from? I just oiled my feet this morning, and my toe didn’t look like that! I whipped out my cell phone and took a picture. I sent the picture to my resident nurse, Bible Study Mama. Why was I so concerned? Well, I’m diabetic and that spot instantly meant that I was headed for major trouble. They always tell diabetics to check their feet. Uncontrolled blood sugars make healing slower. It can lead to amputation. YIKES! Bible Study Mama was calm. She said it looked like a bruise and asked if I had dropped anything on my feet. Then my rational brain kicked in. See, the same toe was hurting on my other foot. They’re both the longest toes on my feet. I had worked out that morning without putting socks on. I was just in a rush to get out of the house, so I skipped an important step. Now, I was hurting. You may laugh at me and my vivid imagination. That’s fine. I laugh at myself all the time. But the important thing to note is that I noticed something was wrong. When is the last time that you checked the condition of your heart? Not your pumping heart… but the heart that is at the seat of your emotions. The Bible tells us to guard our hearts for out of it flows the issues of life. That’s a fancy way of telling us that we need to monitor and control the input that we recieve. We react according to what we’ve put into ourselves. If we are only around negativity and negative people, we become negative. It’s not intentional, but it seeps into us. We haven’t guarded our hearts. Take time to check the condition of your heart right now. I’ll wait. When you regularly check in with God and yourself, you’ll know when something is a little off. You can prevent that little spot of trouble from turning into a situation that leaves you cut off from God. #wepreach

“And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7 Peace.  How many of us want it?  How many of us NEED it?  In our fast-paced lives, peace can be elusive.  We hear about the peace of God in sermons.  We see people lighting candles and dimming the lights in search for peace.  But do we really draw on the peace of God that’s readily accessible to us? Paul is writing a letter to the Corinthian church.  Apparently, things have gotten a little heated between two women in the church.  I’m sure you can relate to experiencing some contention in church.  We’re human so we often disagree on issues.  And it can be hard to work alongside someone that you disagree with.  Paul encourages the church, the women’s community, to help them get along.  He further gives the church instruction to be anxious for nothing.  Hold up bud.  Have you never been between two women who are pillars of the church that have discord?  If getting between them doesn’t cause anxiety, nothing else will…LOL.  Brother Paul, that’s sound advice.  But how do we really do that in a practical way. Paul does not leave us wondering or guessing how to access this calm demeanor.  He tells us how to grab ahold of this peace.  You ready for the practical advice that will transform your life?  You sure?  Drum roll……Paul tells us to pray. Some of you may be a little discouraged by the remedy.  Maybe in your mind, it doesn’t seem to be enough.  I have been more intentional about my prayer life this week.  I scheduled a time to read my Bible.  I set aside time to just sit in silence and pray.  Every day.  I’ve taken time to be with God.  And guess what ya’ll.  It works. I’m good at being faithful with prayer for small bursts.  Then I get swept into the busyness of life.  I get swirled into my spinning funnel of activities.  And every time, I lose more peace.  Reading these verses in my quiet time has encouraged me to remain committed to my alone time with God.  He has unlimited peace waiting on me.  A bank with a never-ending supply.  How foolish would it be to not make my daily withdrawals by spending time talking AND listening to Him?  #wepreach

If you’ve been reading the blog since the beginning, you may recall that my family has a tradition of blessing our food. That simply means that we join hands, bow our heads, and verbally thank God for the food that we’re about to attack…I mean…eat. When I was a really small child and living with my great-grandmother, we said a verse from the Bible before we ever took a bite of the meal that was prepared. Since I was the youngest in the family, I typically spouted, “Jesus wept.” It’s the shortest verse in the Bible. A fitting verse for a tiny girl. Or so I thought. Although it’s short in length, it’s mighty in strength. As a child, I couldn’t fully grasp what that meant. I don’t know that I can fully grasp it now, but that verse keeps coming to my mind. Jesus wept. So, I knew that I needed to write about it. I shied away from exploring this verse. For one, it’s not a part of the cuzzo crew Bible study that I’m currently in. Two, it’s not a part of my Sunday School scriptures. Three, no one has preached a sermon on it or given me any insight that I can share with you. But still, Jesus wept. It has just been running through my head. It won’t let me go. So, I have been forced to study this on my own. I’m seeking God’s guidance. I’m letting His Words guide this blog. I always do, but this feels different. Because Jesus wept. This scripture is found in the gospel of Luke. These words are penned after Jesus arrives to see Mary and Martha. Mary and Martha had sent for Jesus because their brother, Lazarus was sick. Jesus does not come immediately when he gets word of Lazarus illness. He continues His work. He continues His ministry. And Lazarus dies. Mary and Martha are honest with Jesus in their grief. They don’t hide their anguish and frustration. They cry out and say that Lazarus would not have died if Jesus had been there. Jesus asks where they laid Lazarus. They tell Jesus to come and see. And then, Jesus wept. My God. My Lord. My Savior. Fully God. Fully human. And He wept. Commentators say that His weeping is an expression of sorrow. The human side shone through. Jesus knew that He was going to wake Lazarus from sleep in the next moment, and He still wept. He wasn’t unsympathetic to the pain that those around Him were feeling. He wasn’t out of touch with His own emotions either. Maybe that’s why the verse, “Jesus wept”, continues to come to my mind. I’ve been very emotional lately. Moved to tears by things that would normally never break through my shell. (No, I’m not pregnant. That would be a Jesus miracle, and Jesus is already here.) If Jesus wept, why can’t I? I’m really talking to myself. He had the power of life and death in Him. He was on the verge of raising Lazarus and still He wept. I think God is leading me to be okay with my emotions. If I feel like crying, I should. If I want to laugh, that’s okay too. Although Christ rules and reigns in my life…Although I know that I have complete and total victory…it’s okay to cry sometimes. After all, Jesus wept. #wepreach

In October of 2019, I had a dream.  I’m not using my Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. voice.  I literally had a dream that unsettled me.  It wasn’t a scary dream.  By now, I’m sure you’re wondering what the dream was about.  Alright.  I’ll tell you. I was riding with a cousin in the backseat of a car.  She had a chauffeur.  It was a nice car.  Cream leather interior.  Spacious backseat.  The kind of car that I wouldn’t mind being driven around in in non-dream life.  We were driving along a stretch of highway in the desert on a beautiful sunny day. It actually appeared to be the Painted Desert. Unfortunately, I couldn’t enjoy this luxury ride, because we were in the middle of a precarious situation. See, my cousin was hugely pregnant.  So pregnant that she was in labor during this ride that was supposed to be relaxing.  I wish I could tell you that I was cool and composed.  I wish I could tell you that I rubbed her hand and whispered encouraging words.  I didn’t.  I panicked. I was freaking out!  I was crying and screaming.  Through it all, she just kept pushing.  The baby was coming.  She delivered a beautiful baby girl.  She passed that sweet little baby to me.  Then she did the weirdest thing.  She thanked me for helping her through her labor.  She told me that she was naming the baby after me.  Then she told me the baby’s name. This is when it gets even weirder.  See…the name she told me was not Sareta Myisha.  But I readily accepted that her darling baby was named after me in dream world.  I didn’t question it.  I woke up from that dream and went to the bathroom.  I climbed back into bed and drifted off to sleep again. For the rest of the night, I had restless sleep.  Dreams came and went.  I don’t remember what those dreams were about, but in each dream, I continued to hear the baby’s name.  The name was shouted at me all night long.  When I finally woke up for the day, I thought I might need to remember the name because it kept coming to me. During this time, I was on high alert for a word from God, but I let that dream and that name slip through the cracks.  I hadn’t talked to this particular cousin in a while, so I decided to check on her to see if maybe she was expecting a new baby.  She wasn’t expecting a child, but God knew exactly who to send me to for revelation about what He wanted me to know. She asked me for specific details about my dream, and then she began to interpret my dream.  She said that meant that I would experience new beginnings and big changes in the future.  This was a sign of financial success in the future.  A sign of honesty and abundance.  The name that kept being repeated meant life and rebirth.  The long and short of it is that God was making me over. I had this dream WAY back in October 2019 but didn’t feel compelled to share it until now.  I didn’t have assurance or clarity about it until today.  I don’t like the way that I reacted to the labor in the dream.  I told ya’ll back in September in the blog “I’m Expecting” that something great was on the horizon, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.  Currently, my finger is on the great things.  And I have a choice to make. I could be anxious.  I could scream, cry, and panic like I did in my dream.  Or…I could be calm, cool, and collected.  I could totally trust that God will see me safely through to the other side.  I can believe that He will get me to the new places in life that He has shown me. All the sermons, songs, and people that I have experienced lately are pushing me to trust God.  Labor is not easy, but there is a great reward on the other side.  I’m pushing through to my miracles.  #wepreach

Leave.  Expect.  Act.  We have arrived at the “A” in the L.E.A.P. series that my pastor is preaching for the month of February.  Each sermon has been timely and falling into place with the changes that God is performing in my life.  Each sermon is challenging me to take God at His word.  Sunday’s sermon was no different.  Are you ready for the sermon recap?  Lace up your tennis shoes and get ready to act on all that God shares with you. The sermon was drawn from Joshua 10:7-14.  Joshua, and the children of Israel, encounter a problem.  You see, five armies were planning to attack Israel.  They had formed a coalition and were intent on attacking God’s chosen people.  Unlike me, Joshua was not intimidated by this situation.  God told Joshua to not fear the armies.  He decreed that not one of Joshua’s enemies would be left standing. Joshua believes God and takes action.  He marches uphill for 20 miles with the army of Israel to confront his enemies.  He doesn’t wait for his enemies to attack.  He takes the battle to his enemies.  Wouldn’t you know it?  Joshua and the army of Israel are successful in this fight.  Just like God promised.  They are slicing and dicing their way through the enemies.  By all accounts, this is a victorious moment. However, the action is taken up another notch.  God decides to participate in the annihilation of Israel’s enemies.  He throws down large hailstones that smash the enemies and seal their doom.  Even though God has joined the fight, Joshua doesn’t stop fighting.  As a matter of fact, he’s so charged up that He asks God to make the sun and moon stand still.  Why?  Because he wants to fight until not a single one of his enemies stands before him.  He wants all of God’s word to come to pass.  He’s not looking for the hailstones to finish the work.  Joshua wants to be an active participant in this fight. Joshua’s request unleashes ANOTHER miracle.  The Lord stops time to allow Joshua and the army of Israel to have daylight.  The Lord allows them to continue to fight the battle.  The Bible declares that there has been no day like it before or since, when the Lord heeded a human voice.  God was moved by Joshua’s commitment to stay in the fight. Sunday’s sermon blessed me because it was a call to action.  Our actions must mirror our beliefs.  We say we believe God, but then we sit around and twiddle our thumbs waiting on the miracle that we’ve been praying for.  Can you see that God was moved to action when he saw Joshua’s commitment? Joshua put in the work.  He did not sit down and allow the enemy to attack him.  He went on the offensive.  I don’t know about you, but I don’t relish the thought of walking twenty miles uphill BEFORE the fight.  But Joshua didn’t allow that to dissuade him.  He put in the work, and his work redefined what victory really looks like. Is God moved to action because He sees you putting in the work?  Are you actively working in the area that you’re praying for God to bless?  It’s time out for Christians to be praying for summer bodies while sitting in front of the tv eating pizza and watching “The Biggest Loser.”  Where is your action? You are believing God for a profitable business but haven’t created a product.  It’s just a good thought.  Thinking is not going to get you twenty miles uphill.  You are believing God for children who love the Lord, but you don’t spend time to teach them about Jesus at home.  That’s the church’s job.  Listen, that is not going to help them be prepared for battle. We can believe God for any and everything.  But if we’re not moved to act on our beliefs, God is not moved to act on our behalves.  #wepreach

I’ve been thinking about expectations this week. What am I really expecting of God? How am I living this out in my life? You may not know this about me, but I’m big on making the stories of the Bible live in my life. What do I mean by that? Every time scripture is read, I try to be really attentive. It doesn’t always happen, but I’m trying. I’m more intentional about keeping my focus on the Word of God. Because I need for it to be real in my life. Each time I hear a sermon, I’m looking for practical ways to use it in my everyday life. I want the Word to live in my life. The Bible remains alive because we live it out. Sometimes, we get caught up in being perfect. We’re not called to perfection, though. We’re called to submit all of our hopes, dreams, our lives, really every fiber of our being, to God. You know I miss the mark. You know you miss the mark. So, back to the original question. What am I expecting of God? I’m expecting a closeness and a level of level of love that I haven’t experienced before. Not because He wasn’t there, but because my focus was on all the wrong things. When Sweet Baby was 10 months old, I took her to a birthday party. She was just the cutest thing. So sweet….I mean she was REALLY a sweet baby then. A lady came up to us and said, “She’s so cute.” I told Sweet Baby to say “thank you”. I was modeling the way that I wanted her to behave. Let me put a pin in this for a second. Up until this point, I had never heard her say those words. I honestly don’t even remember if she was consistently using words, but I put my expectations out into the world. Ya’ll this baby said, “Thank you” as clear as a bell. I was floored. So was the lady. We both smiled and laughed because this sweet baby had just delighted us. I put my expectations out there and God met them. What am I expecting of God? Everything He promised me. #wepreach

I love love.  I really, truly do.  I’m a sucker for the traditional romantic gestures.  Send me flowers.  Make me a compilation of the best love songs.  Feed me an extravagant meal by candlelight.  Fly me to a tropical location on a whim.  I’m here for it. When you hear the term, “my first love” who comes to mind?  The super saints will instantly holler “Jesus!”  They’ve been saved and filled with the Holy Ghost all their lives, so they don’t have carnal thoughts.  They don’t think of the boy who wrote a note with 2 boxes.  The note that said, “Do you like me?  Check ‘yes’ or ‘no.’”  They don’t think of their first kiss or the first time they heard someone outside of their family whisper, “I love you.” Although I’m saved and desperately in love with Jesus, the term “my first love” conjures up images of that boy.  The one who wrote me letters everyday for two years.  The one who kissed me in the rain.  The one who looked me in the eyes and told me I was beautiful.  That boy. As I’ve grown in my relationship with Christ, I’ve come to realize that that boy wasn’t actually my first love.  Jesus loved me with a love that is incomprehensible long before I ever knew that boy existed.  And while the romantic gestures are beautiful, they can’t compare to the ultimate gift…the ultimate display of love. God sent Jesus to die for me and you, so that we could live with them forever.  And that’s love.  Don’t get it twisted.  It’s easy for that to become just a routine thing to say.  A good Baptist preacher will always have the ability to lead us to Calvary’s cross, but this Valentine’s Day has me reflecting on realizing true love when I see it…and when I experience it. Love is an action word.  That’s a personal mantra of mine.  I say it often. (Ask any man I’ve ever dated.  They’ll probably roll their eyes as they confirm this fact.  LOL!)  Love makes you move.  You can’t sit still.  You MUST display it.  It’s not just a whispered sentiment. My love for Jesus prompted me to action.  You are reading a direct result of love.  This blog is just a continuous love letter to my TRUE first love.  Are you in love?  Are you experiencing love in a real way on this Valentine’s Day?  Are you expressing love?  Not just to God, but to the people around you? Do you stop to help people who are in need?  Do you tell friends and family how much they mean to you and then back it up with actions?  Do you take time to love on those you don’t know by saying a kind word?  Many people don’t like Valentine’s Day because it’s “commercialized”, but I’m not mad at it.  It gives us space to remember that love is important.  Some people only demonstrate love when a demand is placed on them.  Some people don’t take time to treasure what’s in front of them. You do know that I’m talking about you and me, right?  Take time to appreciate Jesus.  Not just today but every day.  He deserves our love and admiration.  We only know what love is because He first loved us.  #wepreach

Gather round children.  I’m going to tell you a story.  Although it might seem fictional to you, I can assure you it’s very real.  The story took place on Monday of this week.  The rain was falling.  Fitz, my cat, was cuddled at my feet as I typed on the computer.  I was working on completing blogs for this week.  I was searching for a picture to match Tuesday’s blog when I ran across a picture that I didn’t remember seeing before. Two people appeared in the picture.  A young girl with beautiful, long hair striking a pose in her fashionably ripped jean shorts.  Behind her, striking an equally enthusiastic pose, was a handsome young man.  Upon closer inspection, I recognized the young man.  It was my uncle Jack.  But who was this girl? The picture appeared to be taken in the late 80’s to early 90’s when looking at the car and clothing choices.  Part of me felt that I was the girl in the picture.  The other part had serious doubts.  Where would this picture have been taken?  And although I know I had long hair as a kid, I didn’t remember it being that long.  I mean, it kind of looked like me…So, I submitted the picture to our cousin group chat and asked Bible Study Cousin if she was the girl in the picture. One cousin sent the picture to her mom, and her mom said that it was either me or the cousin who sent the picture.  Bible Study Cousin chimed in and said, “Fool that’s you!  Ummmmm, you look just like yourself.”  She then sent the picture to her mom who instantly replied that it was me. I sent the picture to my mom and said, “Who is this?”  Her quick response was, “Uncle Jack.”  It never even crossed her mind that I wouldn’t know who I was.  So, she tried to help me in the best way that she knew how.  My brother called me on the phone and asked if I was trying to be funny.  He couldn’t believe that I didn’t know myself. Might I suggest that you don’t know yourself either.  You may not see the gifts and talents that you possess.  You may not see the greatness that God placed in you.  In 2020, I want God to blow my mind.  I want him to exceed every expectation that I’ve ever had.  I want miracles, signs, and supernatural wonders to rule and reign. How awesome would it be to look at myself a year from now and not even recognize the woman that God has shaped and molded.  To be able say, “That kinda looks like me, but I don’t remember ever standing that tall.  I don’t remember walking that confidently or being that relaxed.  She looks comfortable in the skin she’s in.”  My prayer for myself and everyone is that we become better versions of ourselves this year.  So that when we see ourselves, we are blown away by the difference.  #wepreach

Cue the trumpets!!!  We have reason to celebrate!  Why?  Because it’s Bible Study Mama’s birthday!!!!  Of course, I don’t call her by her full name of Bible Study Mama.  I usually call her “ma” or “Doodle”.  When she’s really into a game on her phone, I’ll call her “Beverly” or “mother.”  That generally does the trick. No matter what name I use to describe her or get her attention, I’m so thankful that God chose to name me as one of her children.  Being a teen mom is no picnic and being a SUCCESSFUL teen parent requires sacrifice that many people don’t want to give.  My mama made that sacrifice.  Not just during her teens but over the course of my entire lifetime. I’ve have been so reflective lately and really in awe of how she has navigated the curves of life.  At my age, she had an 18-year-old daughter and a 14-year-old son.  I remember me at eighteen and let me tell you…she had the patience of a saint.  I knew everything about life and couldn’t understand how she was so clueless.  She loved me through that stage. When I was about seven or eight, I went through a lying phase.  I lied about EVERYTHING.  For no particular reason.  We could be standing outside with rain drenching me, and if you asked me if it was raining, I would have told you “no.”  Literally lying for no reason.  She loved me through that stage. I called her crying during my freshman year of college, because I had broken up with my boyfriend (nicknamed “Weapon Formed” by Bible Study Brother…LOL).  I was devastated.  Life was over as I knew it.  She drove to Conway to rub my back and just love on me.  She loved me through that stage. I got sick when I was living in Houston.  While I was in the emergency room, a friend of the family walked in.  I thought to myself “what a coincidence…how strange.”  It wasn’t a coincidence.  She wasn’t there, and she didn’t want me to be alone.  So, she found someone to step in until she could fly down the highway to get to me.  (She has a lead foot on a regular sunny day.  Imagine the weight of that foot when her child is in crisis.  Yikes!)  She loved me through that stage. My mama has loved me through every stage of my life, and I’m grateful.  I know it hasn’t been easy.  I don’t thank her enough for her sacrifice.  This is a public letter of appreciation.  God could have formed any manner of mama for me.  He was purposeful and deliberate in providing me with a mother that exceeds my wildest expectation.  If you’re mad that I took today to shout out my mama, I don’t care.  I want her to get her flowers while she’s still alive.  Happy Birthday Ma!  #wepreach

I’ve mentioned before that I don’t like failure.  It unsettles me.  It makes me feel less than.  You may have realized that I’m super critical of myself.  My idea of failure is sometimes different.  But I have a perfect example of a time that I failed miserably.  It’s not debatable.  It’s just a fact. I’ve been driving since I was like five.  No, my feet couldn’t reach the pedals.  But ya’ll know I was raised in the country.  It was just us out there.  When we were almost home, my mama would put me in her lap and let me “steer” us to the house.  I was thrilled! My aunt trusted my driving abilities, too.  She loves to take a ride somewhere daily.  Family folklore tells the tale of the time that my aunt gave a preschool-aged me the keys to the car.  I guess she put me in the driver’s seat and placed herself in the passenger seat.  Although she would probably be labeled intellectually disabled, she had sense enough to know that she couldn’t drive.  She believed that I could take us to our destination. So, driving is second nature to me.  It’s in my blood.  I love the open road.  I could take road trips every week.  Give me the keys and let me soar.  I passed my written and road skill tests with flying colors.  The state of Arkansas granted me a driver’s license and declared that I was competent to drive on the highways and byways.  I was ready for the world. When my mom decided that I needed to learn how to drive a stick shift, I was confident.  (More sophisticated people might know a “stick shift” as a manual transmission.  Now that we’re on the same page, I’ll continue my story).  We went into the parking lot of the Department of Health on Dr. Martin Luther King, Dr., and my training commenced. IT…WAS…A…DISASTER!!!!  Bible Study Brother was in the car for this tutorial, and he cried uncle.  He wanted out!  He sat in the parking lot until the lesson was over because he said my jerking was giving him a headache.  Although Bible Study Mama wanted to hang in there, eventually she too threw in the towel.  I failed. Listen, I wasn’t overly sad.  I declared that I wanted no parts of that stick shift.  The way I was making it in life was just fine.  I got everywhere that I needed to be cruising on automatic. Is that you?  Are you going through the motions of a Christian life?  You go to church and Bible study because that’s what you’re “supposed” to do.  There are great business connects at church.  Everyone in your neighborhood goes.  Your wife wants you to be there.  It’s automatic. Being intentional and focused on having a relationship with Christ is not automatic.  It’s manual.  You have to get into the groove of prayer and fasting and really seeking His face.  And they don’t always line up at the same time.  So, you’re screeching and jerking through this relationship.  Studying the Word of God can be complicated and hard to understand.  Your head is aching.  You get out of the manual and go to the automatic. Both cars lead you to heaven if you’re saved and have accepted Jesus.  But being able to operate a manual opens up so many doors.  Your automatic car may break down.  The rental place only has manuals available.  Since you can’t drive it, you’re stuck in the same place.  I didn’t ever learn to drive a stick shift, but I’m willing to trying it again.  Don’t be afraid to transition from automatic to manual.  #wepreach

Since it’s a leap year, we are L.E.A.P-ing in the month of February at my church.  Last week, I broke down the “L” in the sermon recap.  We’re called to L-ive.  This week my pastor told us how to handle our E-xpectations. Sunday’s Sermon came from Luke 5:17-20.  If you’ve been in church for any length of time, it’s a familiar passage.  Jesus is teaching in someone’s home.  The message is so compelling that the house begins to fill with those that want to hear what He has to say.  People have come from towns all around.  The Bible says that the power of the Lord was present to heal them.  There is a crowd. Meanwhile, in another part of the city, there is a paralyzed man.  He is on a mat.  He has four friends who are determined to get him to Jesus.  They carry their friend to the door of the home were Jesus is teaching, and they are met with a crowd at the door.  I’m sure you can imagine that it would be hard to shoulder their way through carrying their friend on the mat. They made it all the way to the door, and their path is blocked.  They made up their minds to take their friend to Jesus.  They labored all the way there, and they can’t get in.  They journeyed to the house with the expectation that the Lord would heal.  And after that journey…filled with hope and expectation…they are met with opposition. Maybe it’s just me, but I often think that I get right up to the door of healing and walk away because I can’t just walk in.  There are obstacles in my way.  It’s not at an easy grab.  I have to work for it.  Thankfully, these men were determined to get what they came to receive.  Word had spread that healing was available.  They came expecting healing, and healing is what they would have. Their determination caused them to go to higher heights.  Literally and spiritually.  They carried their friend unto the roof of the house, tore the roof off and lowered their friend to Jesus.  The obstacle didn’t stop them.  It caused them to get creative and find a way to get healing for their friend.  They had an expectation that was bigger than the crowd that blocked their path. What are your expectations of God?  Are you actively believing that He can do exceedingly and abundantly in your life?  Do you have a vision that is so great that you know only God can make it happen?  Or are you satisfied with just making it to the door? It would have been so easy for them to turn away.  But their expectation was huge.  I needed this reminder.  I can’t limit God or turn away when I’m faced with opposition.  I have to go to the next level.  I’m challenging you to go to the next level with me.  Let’s have big expectations of our great big God.  We have to stop living life small.  God wants more for us than we could ever imagine.  I’m expecting Him to deliver.

Studying my Sunday School lesson takes me down different avenues.  Countless concepts jump out at me and command my attention.  While going over the lesson this week, I was entranced by the Greek origin of the word hypocrite.  In the Greek, it means actor.  It was a description of the people who perform on the stage.  They put on different masks to fit the character that they were responsible for portraying. How interesting!  We retained much of the meaning of the word in the English language.  People often classify members of the church as hypocrites.  They believe that we’re actors.  We put on our church masks for Sundays and tuck those masks away as soon as we exit the sanctuary doors.  My biological father is fond of saying that I need to quit messing up church clothes and going to church.  He doesn’t believe that the face that I present is a good representative for Christ.  In his eyes, I’m a hypocrite. Whether we attend church regularly or not, we can be guilty of putting on masks.  You may put on your professional mask when you’re entering your workplace.  You may wear your good daughter mask when you are in the presence of your parents.  You might be a person who puts on your church mask before you enter the doors of the church. I’m convinced that we wear those masks because we have no clue who we really are.  We wear those masks because we don’t want anybody to get close to the essence of who we are.  We wear those masks to protect and preserve our sense of control in a world that can be full of surprises.  Sometimes, it’s much easier to wear a mask than it is to be confident and walk assuredly.  Because if people really knew what was under the mask, they might be compelled to turn away. Thankfully, I serve a God who is not afraid of the girl under the mask.  After all, He created me.  When I talk to Him and listen to His voice, I get a clearer understanding of my role in this world.  Then, I don’t have to play a part. I don’t have to act out a role that fits into man’s image of who I should be.  I can just be who He created me to be.  He gets to delight in His perfect workmanship.  #wepreach

Sometimes, I’m clumsy. I have dropped glasses and bowls, and they have shattered. My next move is to yell out a warning to anyone in the vicinity. “Get back! I broke something. There are sharp pieces everywhere!” Then I pull out the broom and dust pan and sweep all of the pieces up and put them in the trash. After sweeping, I’m still cautious. I might have missed a shard of glass. I don’t want to step on one unexpectedly. Back when I started this blog, I shared that at times I’ve felt broken. Shattered even. Beyond repair. I’ve spent much of my time lately focused on improving my mental, spiritual, physical, and financial health. I’ve been focused on taking the broken pieces of my life and rebuilding a new existence. I’m working on being whole. When I attended The Haven Retreat in Utah, we participated in a moving activity. The Japanese practice the art of kintsugi. In kintsugi, they take broken pottery and fuse them back together with liquid silver or gold. The broken pottery is not deemed useless the moment that it breaks. As a matter of fact, repairing it with precious metal makes it more valuable than it ever was before it was broken. We were given an array of clay pots to choose from. Then, we took a hammer and broke the pot into pieces. We didn’t use real gold, but we mixed a golden, shimmery dust into our glue. Now the real work began. Breaking the pots was easy. Repairing them required patience. You had to hold each piece in place until it was firmly attached. If you let go too soon, it would fall apart. So with soft music playing in the background and a gorgeous mountain landscape as a backdrop, we got to work on repairing our broken pots. Our pots were all broken in different ways. Some had lots of pieces. Others had fewer pieces, but we were all building our pottery bit by bit. What a wonderful reminder for me. Even though my life has shattered at times, I’m not useless. I don’t have to be swept up and put in the trash. My broken pieces are being put back together by God, the Greatest Potter. The brokenness in my life didn’t destroy me. God is using his golden hand to mend me and make me more valuable than I was before I fell into all those tiny pieces. I won’t look like I did before, and that’s okay. The pieces may not all go back the way that they were originally, and that’s okay too. As long as God is doing the mending, I’m satisfied.

Ya’ll know I go to Bible Study on Wednesday nights to get refreshed.  The good Lord did not disappoint. God met me there and gave my pastor a mighty Word that I’m passing on to you today.  The teaching came from II Kings 2:9-13. Elijah, a prophet and mighty man of God, is talking and walking with Elisha, his mentee and son in the gospel.  That’s a churchy way of saying that Elijah was a mentor to Elisha.  He spent time with him and helped him develop.  Elijah knew that his time remaining on earth was limited, so he asked Elisha if there was anything that he could do for him before he left this earth. Elisha makes a bold request.  He asks for a double portion of Elijah’s spirit.  Elijah lets Elisha know that he has asked for a hard thing.  He tells Elisha that if he can keep his eyes on Elijah when he is taken from him, then he will have the very thing that he requests. As they continued to walk and talk, a chariot of fire appears and separates them.  Elijah is taken up into a whirlwind into heaven.  A whirlwind…like a tornado.  Fierce winds.  Intense pressure.  The hard task for Elisha has appeared.  Will he be able to keep his eyes open?  Can he resist the natural urge to turn his back on all the turmoil?  Elisha keeps his eyes open and is able to pick up the mantel that has fallen from Elijah as he was taken up into heaven. Elijah’s physical mantel was basically a coat.  So, yes Elisha picks up the coat that has fallen, but he also picks up Elijah’s spiritual mantel.  He picks up the spiritual legacy that Elijah has left behind.  Thankfully, Elijah lived a life that was worthy of carrying on.  What kind of mantel are you leaving behind? Are you leaving your family, friends, and associates with more debt and burden?  Are you leaving them with memories of your selfishness and greed?  Or are you leaving a legacy of prayer, obedience, and service?  These are questions that we all need to ask.  My pastor challenged us to sit down and write a list.  Not just think…we need to put pen to paper.  Write out what you will leave behind in the form of ministry.  Write out what you will leave behind in the form of material possessions.  Now listen, the Lord doesn’t need to take me out of here yet, because both lists leave much to be desired.  I want to live a life that’s worthy of being carried on.  I want the same for you.  #wepreach

The hallways at my job are always filled with people in motion.  The crowd might be parents dropping off or picking up their children.  Sometimes classrooms are on their way to the bathroom or waiting for their friends to come out of the bathroom.  Or, it might be therapists with their clients transitioning to, or from, therapy.  No matter the time of the day, there are always people in the halls. That means that there are always people to watch.  There are always people to distract my friends as they transition to my office.  I find that I spend much of the time on the way to, and from, my office saying, “Turn around.  Watch where you’re walking.”  My little friends have a habit of walking with their heads turned to look at anyone, and anything, except for where they’re going. What’s the danger in that?  My office is not on a straight course from any of the classrooms.  We have to turn often as we make our way.  There are walls, and doors, and the previously mentioned crowds in the halls.  Walking with your head facing the wrong way has the potential to cause you to hurt yourself. I’m not talking in theory.  I see kids walk into walls, doors, and other people all the time because their focus is shifted.  Sometimes, they listen to my repeated warnings and escape danger.  Other times, they slam right into the obstacles that were in their path. Of course, this has spiritual implications for you and for me.  Although my life is advancing and time is moving forward, I often find myself looking back at the past.  I think about how I could have done things differently.  I run over facts in my mind.  I get stuck in sad loops.  And it causes me to hurt myself, because I’m not focused on where I’m going. Old things are passed away.  While it is wise to evaluate our mistakes, we can’t get stuck in the past.  We must shift our focus forward.  The Bible tells us in Philippians 3:14 to “press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”  God is not taking us backwards.  He’s taking us forward AND upward.  To higher heights and a renewed sense of purpose.  God wants us to make it through this life with dignity.  When we focus on His plans for us and keep our eyes on the prize, we win.  #wepreach

Standards.  Everyone has them, but they’re not all the same for each person.  Even people who were raised in the same home can have different standards.  I have standards for the bread that I use to make sandwiches.  I’m not overly fond of the butts of the loaf of bread.  When talking to Bible Study Mama and Brother the other day, I discovered that they LOVE the butts of a loaf of bread.  We lived together for years, and I never noticed this.  I have standards for my coffee.  I’m not really a die-hard coffee drinker, so I take my coffee with lots of cream and sugar.  The lighter the coffee, the better. You have standards, too.  Have you ever about how you set the standards in your everyday life?  Just today, in two completely different settings, I heard that we have to be mindful of how we set standards.  I told ya’ll that if I hear something twice, I consider it to be important.  Hearing it twice in the same day from two different people really makes me take note. Sometimes, I base my standards on other people.  When Bible Study Brother and I work out together, his competitive mode kicks in.  We both enter our weight and ages into our individual treadmills.  This allows the machine to calculate our approximate calorie burn, and it also allows it to monitor our heart rate if we hold on to the bars.  Although my Fitbit tracks this information for me, I still enter it into the treadmill.  Why?  Because I know it will drive Bible Study Brother crazy. See, I weigh a lot more than him.  Because I’m so much larger than he is, I burn more calories with less effort.  He doesn’t care about that.  He will exhaust himself at times trying to keep up with, or exceed, the number of calories that I’ve burned.  He’s using my numbers to set his standard.  And it wears him out. I’m being reminded today that I need to be mindful of how I set the standard for my everyday living.  Ultimately, I don’t need to look to people to define what my life should entail.  God sets the standard for my life.  And I can’t know His standard if I don’t study His word.  I’m getting there, but it’s a process for me.  Although I know there is safety and security in following His plan for my life, I often struggle against His will.  I know that I’m not alone.  Let’s all be intentional about raising our standards.  #wepreach

OOOOOOOOooooooo weeeee!  Church was on fire yesterday.  The sermon challenged me to live my life to the fullest.  My pastor came from Ezekiel 16:1-6. Ezekiel is a prophet.  He’s the weird guy that doesn’t quite fit in.  He always has a Word for people, but he uses analogies that can be a bit elaborate.  God has put him in position to warn Jerusalem about their missteps.  Ezekiel doesn’t just declare that Jerusalem is in danger.  He paints a vivid picture of their current state of peril. Jerusalem believes that they’re in a prime position.  After all, they’re God’s chosen people.  They are the seed of Abraham.  Highly favored and regarded.  In short, they were a lot like the super saints in church today.  They had forgotten where they had come from.  It was okay for them to live their lives in any fashion.  Chosen means that you’re superior, right?  So, it was Ezekiel’s job to jog their memory. Ezekiel tells the children of Israel that they’re behaving like their parents were from the tribes of Canaan.  They are living like they have no home training.  They aren’t living up to the standard that was set for them.  He then compares Jerusalem to a newborn.  A discarded newborn.  No one even took the time to cut their cord.  They were worthless.  Struggling in their own blood and on the brink of death.  God walked by.  He didn’t leave them struggling.  He took pity on them and commanded them to live.  While they were in their mess, he spoke life into them. We’re just like that newborn.  Our cords haven’t been cut.  We’re still entangled in our toxic relationships.  We’re connected to our wrong ways of living.  We don’t have the capacity to cut our cords.  No newborn does.  God is gracious.  He cuts the ties that hold us back.  He wants us to leave that old life behind.  We were dying, and He spoke a Word to give us new life. Many times, we must leave the old behind to really live.  Jesus died so that we could have life and have it more abundantly.  God’s desires for our lives far exceed anything we could want or imagine in this life and the life to come.  He is determined to take us to higher heights.  We should be equally determined to let Him lead us into a life worth living.  #wepreach

Alright, ladies and gentlemen it’s test time.  Take out your pencils.  Write your name in the upper right-hand corner of your paper and write today’s date underneath your name.  Has everyone completed that task?  Let’s begin. Anyone remember those days?  We followed our teacher’s instructions and filled out all the easy information.  We know our names and the date (most of the time…LOL).  But the test…Some of us dreaded the test.  We had studied feverishly and just wanted to make sure that we got the right answers.  Others forgot all about the test and broke out in a nervous sweat.  Some were confident because the material was easy for them.  They didn’t have to study at all. I’ve fallen into each of those categories at different points in my life.  I’m not talking about traditional school.  I’m talking about the school of life.  Life has a way of testing you to see what you’re made of.  We wake up everyday not knowing what the day will hold.  Sometimes, our biggest tests are scheduled for that day, and we are ill prepared. Take the day that my uncle was murdered for example.  I knew that I was going to a Judah chorale concert that evening.  It was just another Saturday.  Until my mama got the call that changed my entire family. Or every time I get paid.  I’m ready for the tithing test.  Pass it with flying colors.  But recently a bonus question has appeared on that test.  God is asking about my willingness to consistently give an offering. How about the time my co-worker asked me to pray with her OUT LOUD… AT WORK?  Failed that one spectacularly.  I told her that she knew Jesus for herself.  *sigh*  I wasn’t ready!  I wasn’t prepared.  Why would she ask me to pray???? Life will test and challenge each of us and our faith.  I’m determined to be more prepared for the tests and pop quizzes that arise each day.  Let’s be practical.  How can I do this?  I have to spend time with God daily.  Whether it’s reading a single scripture or praying for 30 seconds as I wait for my car to warm up, I have to do it.  I need to start memorizing scripture so that when life hits, I have a deep well to draw from.  I’m praying for you and myself.  Our pencils can be sharp and ready to pass life’s tests.  #wepreach

Houston is full of fond memories for me.  I met amazing people and got to have the coolest experiences.  And, of course, the food is AMAZING!  If you’re looking to have a straight up food vacation, go to Houston.  You won’t be disappointed.  One of my favorite memories in Houston involves my friend inviting me to a salsa class. My friend was vibrant and full of life.  She knew I was a square and was determined to show me a good time in the city that had her heart.  So, off to salsa we went.  I had several reservations.  I’m the queen of the introverts.  Not only was this an extremely social event, but I was going to be up close and personal with a stranger.  I couldn’t really wallflower this. The teacher was personable and excited to break down the salsa for newbies like myself.  I was paired with another guy who was new.  If you’ve never done a ballroom dance, it’s an experience.  You must maintain a specific posture.  They called it having a proper “frame.”  The man is the leader.  I was supposed to put most of my weight on the balls of my feet.  When maintaining a proper frame, it was SUPPOSED to be easier for the man to lead me. But do ya’ll know me???  It was a mess.  He was new, and I was too.  It made for a bad combination.  We stumbled and fumbled.  I couldn’t trust him to not drop me.  We were both learning the moves.  Although I was supposed to follow my partner’s lead, I would just go with what the teacher said.  Which caused lots of missteps.  It wasn’t much fun. Then I was paired with a veteran.  I was so nervous.  I didn’t want to ruin his experience.  My time with the other newbie was so discouraging.  The veteran and I locked in our frame and off we went.  This man WAS a master.  He pushed and prodded me all around the dance floor.  I stayed on the balls of my feet.  He was strong and sure.  Even if I wanted to misstep, he had a firm hand and guided me into the right moves.  Ya’ll, he twirled me.  We glided across that floor.  I laughed and had the most amazing time.  I was in the hands of a master. Of course, I’m going to bring this lesson on home.  Life is better when you put your life in the hands of the ultimate Master.  Clearly this dance let me know that I have major control and trust issues.  I didn’t really enjoy myself until I put my hands in the hands of one who could truly guide me.  I hope you all get to experience the joy of dancing with the Master. #wepreach

Do you remember your dreams when you wake up in the morning?  I do.  When I was in my twenties, I kept a little notebook beside the bed.  I would write my dreams down in the morning.  Someone had gifted me a book about the meaning of dreams, so I wanted to keep track of what was happening in my dream world. Like most new adventures I delve into, it didn’t last long.  I quickly tired of keeping a record.  I’m sad that I didn’t continue.  Will I start back?  Maybe.  But right now, I’m focused on the dreams that I have when I’m awake. Do you currently have big dreams or goals for your life?  If you have big dreams, are you pursuing them?  Little dreams are comfortable and things that you know you can attain.  I’ll give you a personal example.  My little dream is to work out four times a week consistently.  That is possible and attainable.  I call it a dream, because although it’s possible, it seems like a big push for me.  Big dreams seem impossible.  A big dream for me would be running a marathon.  When you compare the two, you can see how a marathon seems so far out of my reach.  (Let me be clear…marathon running is not in my dream life…LOL). If your dreams don’t scare you, you’re not dreaming big enough.  More than once, I have personally said that I want to see God perform a miracle in my life.  I want Him to do something that leaves me speechless.  I want to be amazed.  And I have big dreams.  I dream of a life that is nowhere within my reach or grasp.  My arms are not long enough to even touch what I have dreamed in my mind. Don’t be scared to dream big.  Little dreams are for people who don’t serve a God with ALL power.  They are for people who don’t know a God who wants them to receive exceedingly, abundantly, and above all they could ask and think.  Although I have big dreams, God can amaze me and take me places my imagination couldn’t even conceive.  I’ll be transparent and tell you some of my big dreams.  You may already have these things, so they’re small potatoes to you.  However, they would transform my life.  I dream of operating in all the gifts that God has given me.  I dream of serving God on an international level.  I dream of having a loving and faithful husband.  I dream of having a kind, caring, God fearing and loving, compassionate, and present father.  Those are no small dreams. I dream of businesses.  I dream of walking in my God given purpose.  I dream of a world where people look out for one another.  I dream.  I dream.  I dream.  Hopefully this stirs up the dreamer in you.  My prayer is that you do more than dream a little dream.  Dream until it scares you.  #wepreach

As iron sharpens iron, so a man sharpens the countenance of his friend. Proverbs 27:17 You may not know this, but I wanted a sibling.  I had a strong desire to have a little person to walk through life with.  I shared my dreams with my mom, and as fate would have it, my brother was born.  He was going to be my sidekick.  My friend.  A confidante. Today, I can say that he is all those things, but it hasn’t always been that way.  I tried to be his mother.  I tried to mold him and shape him in MY image.  So, you can understand why we had such a tumultuous relationship.  We’ve always loved each other, but I haven’t always respected him or given him space just to be who he is. Bible Study Brother was asked to be the Men’s Day speaker at his church.  He was adamant that it wasn’t a sermon.  He was just speaking.  From the podium where announcements are made.  He wasn’t going into the pulpit. He took the assignment seriously.  He poured over the message for months.  He thought on it.  He prayed about it.  He was going to speak whatever God wanted him to say. As Men’s Day approached, I could tell that he had things on his mind.  We speak frequently.  I know when something is bothering him.  Usually, I’m the something that’s bothering him…LOL.  He knows that I’m silly and doesn’t often take me seriously.  The more we talked…the more I felt that I needed to say something.  Not in a joking manner but from a sincere place. So, I shared some of my thoughts about his situation with him.  The next day he called to tell me that he had accepted his call into the ministry.  This past Sunday was Men’s Day.  Bible Study Brother walked into the pulpit and publicly accepted his call into the ministry. Although I’m a thug from way back, I cried.  I HAD NO INTENTION OF SHEDDING TEARS.  I don’t cry in public.  But I had no control.  My frozen heart melted and made water come from my eyes.  His sermon primarily came from Proverbs.  He talked about how knives are actually sharpened.  Bible Study Brother attended culinary school for a while.  So, he brought out his knife honer.  He explained that knives have a curve.  A honing steel pushes the edge of the knife back to the center.  It straightens the knife out.  It helps preserve its sharpness. As Christians…as the body of Christ, we are called to keep each other in alignment.  Not to control people.  Not the way that I used to handle my relationship with my brother.  But, we are called to help them maintain focus.  To always point them to God. I almost forgot to tell you the craziest part of Sunday.  As Bible Study Brother began to preach, a bat started flying around the sanctuary.  You didn’t read that wrong.  A BAT!!!  He calmly said, “Oh, it’s a bat,” and continued to preach as this bat had a field day in the sanctuary.  My cousin looked up what bats symbolize.  Google said that they represent death but not in a morbid way.  They symbolize the passing away of the old and the beginning of something new. We rejoice for the new life that Bible Study Brother is experiencing.  Keep my baby brother in your prayers.  He is my sidekick.  My friend.  My confidante.  #wepreach

Yesterday was an eventful day.  Mondays are typically sermon recaps.  And I’ll definitely recap the sermon.  But in the midst of all of my planning, life happened.  It would be foolish to ignore the fact that Kobe Bryant, his thirteen-year-old daughter, and seven other people lost their lives in a helicopter crash.  So unexpected.  Unbelievable.  Heartbreaking. While my day was going along yesterday, his wife got a phone call that I know had the power to take her breath, knock her off her feet, and leave her speechless.  Has anyone else had a perfectly planned day and then life happened?  I’m not one of those people that can say I know how she feels, because I can’t experience her personal pain.  But, I do know that I can experience my own pain and relate to hers. In times like these, we get sentimental.  We hold our loved ones tighter.  We find it easier to forgive them.  We get reflective.  We want our personal communities to know that we cherish them. Give people their “flowers” while they’re alive.  So, they can smell them.  So, they can gaze on the beauty of them.  So, they know just how important they are to you.  Make it a practice to say “I love you” even when it’s uncomfortable.  Even when it’s not what your family does.  Start off with a side hug if a regular hug gives you the heebie jeebies.  In time, it will come more naturally. I heard someone say that you must do something one thousand times to create muscle memory.  I didn’t take the time to fact check this.  The point is that it takes repetition to make unnatural habits stick.  I pray that we’re kinder to each other today.  I pray that we are more patient.  I pray that we inspire peace.  If we practice it enough, it will become who we are.  #wepreach

Faith without works is DEAD.  That’s not just a catchy opening line.  It has proven time and time again to be true in my life.  Buying my home tested my faith to the core. Being a homeowner was just one of my billion dreams.  I kept putting it off because I wanted to make sure that my credit was superb.  I’m a shopper’s shopper, so I indulged in browsing homes online and in the free real estate magazines around town.  I felt I wasn’t ready financially, but I wanted to at least know what was available. I saw the cutest little town home one day while I was online shopping.  And I did something so peculiar.  I picked up the phone and called the realtor.  I wanted to see this condo in person.  I had no intention of buying.  I wasn’t ready.  I just wanted to walk through and get a feel for home shopping. Bible Study Brother tagged along.  I’m sure the realtor thought that we were a couple. (Most folks do when we’re out in public…yuck!)  We weighed the pros and cons as we walked through the place.  It was almost right but then not quite right. When I returned home, I did an even stranger thing.  I called a mortgage broker and had him to assess what I needed to do to be ready to buy a home.  I wanted to plan and save.  I couldn’t know what I needed if I didn’t ask.  Guess what?  He ran the numbers and told me that I was already in position to be a homeowner. Bible Study Cousin put me in touch with an awesome realtor, and I was off to the races.  To be perfectly honest, I assumed that the homebuying process was going to be long.  Since I am a shopper, I assumed that it would take me a while to get just the right space. I saw the cute little town home in November, and by the middle of December, I was getting ready to close on an even cuter home.  That is….until that deal fell through.  It was the PERFECT house for me.  Sure, the master bedroom was tiny.  And all the closets were small, but it was perfect!  I was devastated.  I was convinced that home ownership wasn’t in my cards. Then my realtor called me in January.  He was searching and ran across a home that he thought would be a great fit.  The interior was not up to par, but it had sound bones.  He called it “cute.”  Bible Study Brother was not thrilled to enter the house, but I saw what the realtor meant.  I could make my mark on this home.  It didn’t necessarily look like me, but it had a sound foundation and solid walls.  The rest was just dressing. I closed on my home on February 29, 2016.  I’d be lying if I said it was a breeze.  It wasn’t.  I remember crying in the sensory closet at work in frustration.  No one else had such a hard home buying story.  My mom would often say that she hadn’t ever experienced anything like it. But on the other side of the pressure is a beautiful home.  It’s hard to believe that Bible Study Brother used to avoid coming into my unfinished home.  Now, it’s hard to get him to leave.  Sometimes, I truly forget how much progress has been made with my home until someone brings it up. I had to act to get to this point.  ALL my faith with no works would have resulted in me remaining at my mom’s house online shopping or flipping through magazines.  God definitely pushed me.  And I didn’t die from the pushing.  I fell down.  Scraped my knees.  Cried in closets.  Dusted myself off.  Walked a little further.  Eventually, I made it to the place that God had just for me.  Activate your faith.  #wepreach

Well, I took on a new role in life.  I agreed to teach our adult Sunday school class.  Emphasis on the word adult.  Although I previously taught Sunday school to teenagers and young adults, teaching to adults was never on my list of must haves in life. I attend Sunday school regularly because there is just so much that I don’t know.  When our teacher got married and went to find a church home with her husband, we had two choices- join another class or one of us would have to teach.  I championed for others to take the reins.  No one stepped up to the plate.  So, I chose the third option that I didn’t mention.  I was just going to stop going to Sunday school. Don’t act shocked.  I’m NOT Jesus.  I was very comfortable with my class.  I wasn’t trying to go somewhere new or start over.  Clearly, God’s plan for my life was for me to get more rest on Sunday mornings before church or maybe even get my cardio in at the gym before service. My cousins suggested that I teach the class.  I looked at them straight in the eyeballs and said “no.”  There is no shame in my game.  Except….I kind of felt like maybe I should.  The minister in charge of Sunday school teachers asked me if I had thought about teaching the class.  I told him I’d pray about it.  And I prayed. Y’all know I struggle with obedience.  But I also struggle with trying to differentiate between people’s expectations of me and God’s expectations of me.  I want His way to always win.  I don’t know how other people hear from God, but I always look for confirmation of what I believe that He told me.  Once I received confirmation, I agreed to my new assignment. This is a scary role.  As you can see, I wasn’t tap dancing and leaping for joy at the opportunity.  In my eyes, to be a great teacher, you need to really KNOW your material.  And I know what I’ve experienced of God but being able to take the assigned material every week and make it real for others, and myself, is a big assignment. I don’t necessarily think the way that people who have been in church all their lives think.  I don’t put pretty bows on everything.  I don’t wear pantyhose to church.  I can’t recite all the books of the Bible in order from Genesis to Revelations (however, I do know that there are 66 books of the Bible so maybe that counts for something).  What I do know…God called me to this for this season.  That’s enough for me.  #wepreach

What happens to a dream deferred? Langston Hughes During my discussion of my faith walk on the Bible Study Girl podcast, Bible Study Brother brought up the fact that I was one of the speakers at my high school graduation.  I hadn’t thought about that in forever.  When the podcast was over, I tried to remember what my speech was about.  In that moment, I really wished that I had kept it in a folder with a box clearly labeled “Senior Year ’01.” Although I don’t remember the content of the speech, I do know that I used the poem “Harlem” by Langston Hughes to structure the speech.  His simple, yet powerful poem resonates with me to this day.  He starts off by asking what happens to a dream deferred.  I struggle with my deferred dreams on a consistent basis. My goal in life was to be married by the time that I was 25, have my first kid by the time that I was 30, and live happily ever after.  That’s it.  That’s all.  I’m not talking about childhood fantasies.  I was 27, 28, 29, and 30 still waiting for my dreams to be fulfilled.  I went to college and did what was expected of me but that wasn’t my dream. As life and time has gone on, it remains my dream.  But anybody with eyes can see that that dream has been deferred.  So, what am I supposed to do with them?  Do I let it fester and become bitter?  Do I turn my lemons into lemonade and make it better? Anyone that knows me, knows that I love a good celebration.  I cheer people on all the time as they get to live the life that I dreamed of, but that doesn’t mean that it comes without a price for me.  Y’all I regularly question God about His purpose and plan for my life.  And I ask Him to give me new dreams to take the sting out the dreams that have been deferred and maybe even denied. Any good saint will tell you that delayed doesn’t mean denied.  But have they really walked it themselves?  And although it is my dream, is it what God really wants for me?  I’m unclear.  I would be lying if I made a bold declaration that said it’s God’s will for my life.  This is an opportunity for me to not give a good church answer.  It’s an opportunity for you to see that I don’t have answers for all of life’s issues.  Thankfully, I serve a God that has all the answers.  So, I’ll continue to wait on Him to build new dreams in me.  #wepreach

How do you define family?  It’s different for everyone.  The way that our individual families operate help us define normalcy.  It’s only once you get older and more observant that you realize that all families do things in their own way.  Our families have their own cultures and sets of principles that they use to function. Anyone that is close to me knows my family.  That’s the way that I do life.  We see each other often, and there is food involved 99% of the time.  We are loud and opinionated.  And we welcome people into the family with open arms.  (After they complete their initiation….let’s be real…LOL)  Once we accept you, you belong to us.  You’re family. We don’t do in-laws or steps.  You’re just one of us.  I thought that was the way that all families operated.  I think my first time realizing that we were different is when a friend asked if it was my aunt or uncle that married into the family.  My friend was always around the family.  She said that it occurred to her one day that one of them had married into the family, but she couldn’t tell which one. I then began to be more observant of the way other families operated.  I started to listen to the language people used to describe family relations.  I had personal experience being a step-child.  So, I’m familiar with the concept of not “belonging” to a family, but my family of origin set a standard that I used to measure every other family. Personally, I think our definitions of family make it difficult to accept that we’re all one in the body of Christ.  Black, white, Hispanic, Asian, straight, gay, crazy, sane, rich, poor, pretty, ugly, mean, kind.  Once we accept Jesus, we’re family.  If your family has a tradition of not being as nice to the step-kids or in-laws, you are going to struggle with being one with believers that aren’t exactly like you.  It takes work to change our distorted images of what family really is. I’ve paid for enough therapy to know that there are some people that you can’t necessarily welcome into your personal circle.  Some people are dangerous for your mental, and sometimes, physical health.  But there are some people that are just different from you.  And we are charged to be ONE body in Christ.  Hands are useless if they’re not connected to the arms.  Arms need elbows to be able to bend.  YOU need healthy relationships in order to really flourish.  Get mad at me if you want.  I can take it.  We’re family.  #wepreach

Happy Monday everyone!  It’s time for your sermon recap, and you’re in for a treat.  My church was asked to wear camouflage on Sunday.  Pastor wanted us dressed for battle.  Did you know that we’re in a war???  Not against flesh and blood but against all the spirits at work in this fallen world.  So, it’s best to be alert and aware of your surroundings. Sunday’s sermon dissected II Kings 6:8-17.  The king of Syria was at war with Israel.  You may not know this, but Israel was God’s chosen people.  You may also be unaware that God takes care of those that He has chosen.  I digress.  On with the rest of the sermon. The king of Syria was very disturbed.  He would make plans to attack Israel’s army, but they seemed to get news of any impending attacks.  This happened not just once or twice but at least three times.  He thought he had a double agent in his crew.  He wanted to know who was telling the Israelites about all the battle plans.  His servants let him know that Israel had a prophet named Elisha.  Word had gotten to them that Elisha was telling the king of Israel everything that the king of Syria said in private.  In outrage, the king of Syria demanded that Elisha be brought to him. Elisha’s servant woke up early one morning and left the tent to begin his day.  He panicked when he realized that they were surrounded by the army of Syria.  He goes back into the tent and tells Elisha that they are surrounded.  He wants to know what the plan is.  What are they going to do? Elisha tells his servant not to be afraid.  He assures the servant that they have more with them than the Syrian army does.  This probably didn’t satisfy the servant.  After all, he saw that entire army with his own eyes.  Elisha hadn’t even peeked out to see exactly how vast the army was.  Elisha then asks the Lord to open the servant’s eyes. When the servant’s eyes were opened, he could see a mountain full of horses and chariots of fire that were surrounding Elisha.  Now, ya’ll the servant wasn’t physically blind.  He was spiritually blind.  Until Elisha asked God to elevate the servant’s spiritual sight. Are you spiritually blind?  Can you look past the situation and embrace that you are surrounded every day by angels?  Connecting with others who have spiritual vision will be instrumental in living this Christian life successfully.  Ask God to help you win with another set of eyes.  #wepreach

 Kids LOVE bubbles and stickers.  I’m not kidding.  I work with kids that typically range from one to five years old.  Stickers and bubbles are life savers or feeling crushers.  The response to them is so powerful that I use them for leverage. When I have a child that’s temperamental, or especially expressive, about their wants (and their wants don’t line up with my plans), I pull out my secret weapons.  They have been known to turn a frown upside down and soothe the most terrible tantrum.  Even my most hardened kids have a soft spot for bubbles and stickers. Bubbles and stickers are sooooo cheap and readily available.  You can go to your local dollar store and find them.  Kids see them everywhere, but for some reason they hold such a special place in their hearts.  They will do just about anything to have them. See, stickers are a status symbol at the daycare.  When you come back from therapy, you show all the other kids in class just how cool your stickers are.  It’s even better if you have stickers on both hands.  My kids with the softer hearts will often share a sticker with a friend, and that just melts my butter.  So, I’ll always give them more. What are the bubbles in your life?  You know what I’m talking about.  The cheap things that you’ll risk anything to obtain.  Your designer bags.  Your relationship with the wrong person.  Your unhealthy obsession with always knowing everyone else’s business.  Obtaining just the right car.  Maintaining an image of success.  They’re all bubbles.  And just like bubbles, they don’t last.  They pop. Do you share your stickers with your friends and the world at large?  Your talents.  Your gifts.  All the things that make you uniquely you.  I’d like to argue that if you’re generous with your stickers, God will give you more.  He knows that He can trust you with them.  I think it melts His butter too.  Or are you selfish with them?  Do you flash them around to let others know you have them and then not share them? I learn so much from the little guys I work with.  #wepreach

You know you’re an adult when water cooler conversation at the office revolves around the landscaping at your home.  Not even just at the office.  I regularly talk with my bestie about ways to eliminate weeds in my flower bed.  We debate about whether we’ll use mulch or switch over to stone.  We dream of our ideal flower beds out loud. Just the other day, I overheard my co-worker saying that they were trying to get rid of bamboo that the previous owners of the home had planted.  She said bamboo is almost impossible to eliminate because it has such a strong root system.  I hadn’t ever thought about the life cycle of bamboo, so I had to dig a little deeper. Per Google research, bamboo is a curious grass.  Once a bamboo seed is planted, it must be watered daily. You really have to be committed because it can take up to three to five years before it’s ready for growth.  Interestingly, once bamboo starts to grow, it takes off.  Some species can grow three feet in one day!  (Side note:  I wonder if they have growing pains.  LOL!) If I was a pastor or preacher, I’d tell you to keep being faithful because in due season, you shall reap a harvest.  I’m not either of those, so you’re safe.  I’m more interested in what makes them so hard to eliminate.  They’ve been constantly watered.  The first year is just one sprout.  The next year another sprout emerges.  More watering occurs.  Until they have a strong network of sprouts.  Once the sprouts have all intertwined with each other underground, it’s hard to kill them. I also researched ways to prevent bamboo from getting out of control.  All the methods mention cutting them off from other bamboo sprouts.  If you kill their connection, you can contain their growth.  They have strength in community. Y’all this was confirmation for me that I was created to exist in community.  Christians are easier to kill when they’re not connected to other believers.  God continues to show me that my personality may be that of an introvert, but my healing, wholeness, and strength will be found in connecting with others. I’ve experienced that with my BSG’s, YAB’s, Sunday school class, and my sisters from the Haven Retreat.  To further hammer the point in, my pastor gave our church our theme for 2020.  Y’all ready???  The theme is “One.”  We are one body in Christ, and we CANNOT do life alone.  I told ya’ll I’m hard-headed and rebellious, but this message is consistently coming to me.  Let’s do life together so that we’ll be harder to kill.  #wepreach

LaShun Pace Rhodes sings “I Know I’ve Been Changed.”  It’s a down home, foot stomping gospel song.  You can find it on YouTube if you’ve never heard it.  Back in the days of cassette tapes, LaShun was on heavy rotation in my mother’s car.  At Bible study on Wednesday night, pastor taught about spiritual transformation.  As soon as I got home and thought about the lesson, the song sprang to mind. At one point in the song, she says, “God’s chemical laboratory of redemption took my black soul and dipped it in red blood, and I came out white as snow.”  It’s an awesome visual description of just how changed Christians should be.  The change is dramatic and doesn’t make sense.  People can’t explain it, but they’ve seen it happen before their own eyes. Pastor pushed the point that many Christians are living life below their means.  When we accept Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and Savior, heaven is opened to us.  We have access to peace, abundant life, love, joy, and wholeness.  So why do we settle for less?  And when I say we, once again, I’m talking about myself. I’ve shared that I’ve opened myself up to letting God really work in me, but tonight’s Bible study made me wonder if the work that’s going on inside of me is evident to those around me.  Has there been a dramatic change that’s visible and almost tangible?  When I walk in the room, do others see the light shining from within me? The reality is that God doesn’t transform us just to transform us.  He’s not doing it so that we can feel victorious and free while others suffer.  The work that God does in us should draw others to Him.  When they see someone that was sad and downtrodden become full of joy, they should marvel at the change that occurred in them. Unfortunately, many Christians limit what God can actually do.  If we see dramatic change, we instantly think that that can’t be God.  We take our limited understanding of who He is and stuff Him in a box.  I wonder how we became so jaded.  Can God really transform people???  Yes.  We just have to be willing to be molded and changed by Him. I’m going to be really honest here.  I don’t agree with many of the things that my biological father says to me.  I wasted a lot of breath countering his feelings about what a Christian should look like, or sound like, or just be like.  One of his favorite lines to me is “You should just stop wasting your time and putting on clothes to go to church if you’re going to act like that.”  Although his logic is flawed, his words came to me tonight.  I’m not going to stop going to church, but I am going to be more purposeful about letting the Christ in me show to others. Will I be perfect?  Absolutely not!  Catch me on day six of a serious seven day fast, and I might be grumpy.  Catch me after nine hours of therapy with children, and my hello may be a little dry.  But I AM determined to walk in my spiritual transformation daily.  I want the same for all believers everywhere.  #wepreach

Almost five years ago, I got a tattoo.  I wasn’t alone.  Bible Study Brother and Cousin were there.  As a matter of fact, Bible Study Cousin got the exact same tattoo in the exact same spot.  The crazy thing is that I had always been vehemently opposed to tattoos.  Until, I started getting this itch to get one. My good friend that I refer to as Princess just knew I was having some kind of crisis.  Not only did I get a tattoo, but I also dyed my hair.  It was crayon red.  Not burgundy or plum…red red.  Maybe I was subconsciously rebelling against the “system” or people’s expectations, but it wasn’t a conscious act.  I just wanted something different, and I decided that my tattoo was going to be the something different. There is one little catch though.  I have a low pain tolerance.  That’s probably part of the reason that I was so against tattoos.  Just thinking about a needle piercing my skin over and over again was enough to make a tattoo far off my radar.  My faith played into my aversion to tattoos as well.  I was always taught that tattoos were sinful.  Our body is a temple of the Lord’s, so we need to honor it.  I also couldn’t think of a single thing that I thought was important enough to have etched on my body forever. Bible Study Mama was passionately against my tattoo plans.  She tried to threaten me, but it didn’t work.  She tried to appeal to my low pain threshold.  I didn’t care.  I was determined to get this tattoo. So off to the tattoo parlor, I marched. I can’t lie.  When I walked in there, I was nervous…petrified even.  I had just gotten my bi-annual flat iron that I described in “I Whip My Hair.”  The tattoo parlor was clean and cute.  Our tattoo artist was friendly and professional and prepared to do her do.  I decided that I needed to go first, because there was a very real possibility that I would back out of it. We were the only novice patrons in the place.  Everyone else was there to add onto their already impressive body artwork.  One guy advised me to just relax.  He assured me that, after I had my first tattoo, I would crave more.  I took a deep breath and rolled/climbed onto the table (I’m SHORT people).  The tattoo artist positioned my foot, and my transformation began. Listen, IT HURT!!!  But I didn’t say a mumbling word.  I didn’t grunt.  I didn’t groan.  I was silent.  I just took the pain.  Remember that bi-annual flat iron I mentioned earlier?  It slowly reverted back to my afro.  Why you ask?  Because I was profusely sweating.  Sweat was pouring down my face unto my shirt.  Bible Study Cousin let me know that I was freaking her out because I was being so quiet…and I’m sure the profuse sweating didn’t help.  Less than five minutes later, the tattoo was complete. Ohhhhh, I haven’t described exactly what my tattoo is, have I?  It’s the word “Faith” with an infinity loop and a cross.  The “I” in faith has a tiny heart instead of a dot.  As I sit here typing about my experience, I’m having so many revelations.  I sat silently through all of the pain and anguish that it took to get the word faith permanently positioned on my flesh.  I didn’t murmur or complain.  I took the pain until the work was completed.  That’s the season I’m at in my spiritual life right now.  God is searing faith into my soul, and I can’t lie.  It’s uncomfortable.  I keep sharing that I want to tap out because sometimes it seems unbearable.  This just reminds me to hold on until His work in me is completed.  #wepreach

By now, you likely have a better idea of the activities that I like to do for fun.  You can probably guess things that might entertain or thrill me.  I told you before that I’m childish, and I meant that.  I often find myself very easily amused.  I laugh a lot because I find so many things to be hilarious. That may explain why I have found so much newfound joy in my job.  Kids are hilarious.  And working with kids makes me utter phrases that sound ridiculous in AND out of context.  “We don’t pee on our friends.”  “Pick it up…it’s right there…it’s RIGHT there…IT’S RIGHT THERE!”  “My name is not therapy.  I’m Ms. Sareta.”  “Am I taking you?  I don’t even know you.” There is a joy and a struggle that comes with my profession.  I often overlook the joy because the reality is that there is much struggle.  I work with children who are tiny and already at a disadvantage.  Not just because of their speech or language impairments but because of the lack of parental involvement.  So, when I think about the responsibility that I have, it puts a weight on my shoulders that’s uncomfortable. In my previous work environment, the parents were ALL IN.  They often cried when I told them that their child had a speech or language impairment.  They didn’t want to accept that their child was delayed.  Even though they didn’t like hearing the news, they would most often instantly become people of action.  They were involved and wanted a plan to remediate the issue. Unfortunately, parents everywhere don’t have the same drive.  Imagine my surprise when I was testing a child, and the parent used a very specific term to describe what they believed was happening to their child.  Not because it was a true concern, but because they wanted to profit from a disability check.  They were willing to put labels on their child to “get ahead.” Daily, I have to think about the joy that I get from engaging with the bright young minds of tomorrow.  My therapy skills are not on 1000% all of the time.  I’m human.  I get tired, and I know the kids get tired of me.  But I love my kids.  They are so perceptive.  And wise.  And expressive (even when they’re non-verbal).  They’re dramatic.  Wiggly.  Giggly.  Kind.  Mean.  I just had an epiphany.  I love my kids so much because they’re all so much like me! Bless their little hearts and bless mine too. They have to work to achieve skills that just come naturally to others. Some people are naturally extroverted. I’m not. So I’m learning to give myself the same grace that I give my babies. I’m all in on spreading the love and joy of Jesus. #wepreach

Happy Monday morning ya’ll!  If you’ve been waiting for the sermon recap, you’re in for a real treat.  My pastor dropped so many nuggets during the sermon.  I spent much of the service clapping my hands and screaming at him.  His words hit home.  It’s like he was talking just to me. The sermon centered around the life of Joseph.  I’m not going to assume that you know anything about him.  Joseph was the eleventh son in a family of twelve brothers.  He was also his father’s favorite child.  How do I know that?  The Bible states that Joseph’s father, Israel, loved Joseph more than all his children.  He loved Joseph so much that he had a coat of many colors made for Joseph.  This obvious favoritism made his brothers hate him.  They couldn’t find anything nice to say about Joseph. Joseph didn’t really make it any easier.  One night, he had a dream.  In the dream, sheaves of wheat were bowing down to Joseph’s sheaf which was elevated above the others.  He interpreted his own dream and told his brothers that one day they would all bow down to him.  The Bible says they hated him even more for his dreams AND for his words. Then Joseph dreams another dream.  Do you think he kept his dream to himself?  Nope.  In this dream, the sun, moon, and eleven stars bowed down to him.  This time Joseph shares the dream with his father AND his brothers.  Again, Joseph interprets his own dream and declares that his father, mother, and brothers will bow down to him.  The Bible says that his brothers envied him.  And though Israel rebukes Joseph, he keeps what Joseph says in mind. With all the hate and envy building up inside of them, the ten older brothers decide to act.  They take Joseph’s beautiful coat and throw him in a pit to die.  They really wanted to kill him but one of the brother’s rethinks that part of the plan.  They eventually sell Joseph into slavery and off to Egypt he goes. He endures many trials.  But in each trial, the Bible says that the Lord was with Joseph.  So, he experiences unmerited favor along the way. People that he works for are blessed because of God’s favor on Joseph’s life.  God wants to bless Joseph so the people around him catch secondhand favor.  Eventually, Joseph ends up in prison.  He was actually trying to run from evil and ended up locked up.  No worries.  The Lord was still with him.  While in prison, he meets the chief butler and the chief baker for the king of Egypt.  They dream dreams.  They become sad because there is no one to interpret them.  Do you remember how this story started?  Joseph interpreted his own dreams.  He brings back that old gift.  He unwraps it and interprets the dreams of the butler and the baker respectively.  His interpretation is spot on. Tapping into the gift that has been within him all along was the key to his destiny.  He dusted off the thing that seemed to cause him so much heartache and began to use it.  He remembered what God had shown him.  Ultimately, those earlier dreams that Joseph had about his family bowing down to him came to fruition.  Unlike me, Joseph didn’t lord it over his brother’s heads.  As a matter of fact, he uses the situation to coin one of the most used phrases in trying times-“ you meant if for evil against me, but God meant it for good, in order to bring about as it is this day to save many people alive.” The Lord was with Joseph, and he’s with you and me when we allow Him to be Lord over our lives.  What gifts are you not using?  Those gifts are the very thing that hold deliverance for you AND others.  God doesn’t give us gifts to make us feel good.  He gives us gifts to advance His kingdom.  Don’t leave your gifts on a shelf until they accumulate dust.  Remember what God showed you.  #wepreach

I often hear people say that God can shut doors that no man can open, and He can open doors that no man can shut.  What happens when there is no door?  You may be wondering what I mean by that. I’m very dramatic.  During my teenage years, I was even more dramatic than I am now.  Slamming my door was the punctuation to my sentences.  When my parents didn’t go with my program, I emphasized my displeasure by slamming my door.  I was a master at the twirl and slam. My dad quickly got tired of my scenes.  He thought outside of the box and came up with an ingenious solution.  He removed my bedroom door.  Voila!  No more door to slam.  New age parents may feel that it was violation of my rights.  Old school parents are wondering how I had hands to continue to slam doors…LOL!  Now my only option was to twirl and slam myself into my bed.  Which I did regularly.  But it was much quieter. Not having a door had its challenges.  There was no such thing as a “private” conversation with my friends.  Not that I had anything to be private about.  We spent a lot of time prank calling people and gossiping about our friends.  It also meant that my brother could find me with no barriers. I might have gone two years without a bedroom door.  By the time I was sixteen, the door was back on its hinges where it belonged.  I had learned to journal and express my disdain for parental input in healthier ways. Sadly, many Christians are walking around today with a no-door mentality.  We let any and everybody come in and out of our lives.  There is not even a door there for God to open or shut.  We’ve removed the door from the hinges because we think it’s just getting in the way.  We’ve left ourselves open and vulnerable to attacks from the enemy.  We’ve left ourselves open to attacks from people who mean us no good. I’m not suggesting that we remain closed to others, however I am suggesting that we allow God to decide who, and what, has access to us.  This is a hard concept for me personally.  Growing up in church, I believed the Christ-like thing was to always say yes.  To always serve.  To always give. It’s only within the last two years that I have come to realize that I need to let God take the lead.  I mean… I knew it intellectually.  But it’s a completely different thing to actually walk that out in real life.  Every good thing is not necessarily good for you.  It’s only good if that’s the door that God opened.  And not just a door that people have opened for you to walk through. What’s your door situation looking like?  Did you take it off the hinges so that just anyone can come in?  Did you deadbolt your door to keep God AND everybody else out?  Is your door unlocked but still closed to Jesus’ gentle knocking?  Is your door open, but you have your hand on the knob ready to close it at the first sign of trouble?  Or maybe your door is being opened and closed by the hand of God while you rest in the room that He has presently prepared for you.  #wepreach

Depression is real.  It took about two months for my anti-depressant medication to kick in last year.  There was no overnight miracle.  I knew my anti-depressants were working when I felt ready to throw a party.  And not just any party.  I wanted to throw a murder mystery party. Had I ever thrown a murder mystery party before?  No.  Did I know anyone else who had thrown one or even attended one?  Double negative.  For some reason, it seemed like a good idea.  I sent out a mass text message to my tribe and waited for a response.  Almost instantly, people were on board for my impulsive decision.  Once people agreed to come, I had to figure out how to make this idea a reality.  I found an online company with favorable reviews.  I paid the money and instantly had access to all the murder mystery materials.  Bible Study Mama agreed to place clues in envelopes so that I could play along.  I e-mailed people their character assignments.  Now, I just had to wait for the day of the party. Party day arrived.  Let me tell you that my tribe came out in character and ready to play.  We were to vote on the actor at the end of the evening.  I fool with people who don’t like to lose so there were some truly Oscar worthy performances.  Suspicion was in the air all night as we talked with each other and tried to figure out who was worthy of trust and who was just blatantly lying. Real life is just like my murder mystery dinner party.  Satan is always lurking around seeking to steal, kill, and destroy.  The problem is that we make Satan the guy with the horns, and he’s really just operating in the guy in the cubicle next to yours.  We argue with people and forget that we’re really in disagreement with the spirit that’s at work in them. My prayer is that we don’t spend all our time like I did at the dinner party.  Sweating, suspicious, and not letting my guard down.  Y’all my brother was the murderer the WHOLE time.  If I had grilled him the way that I grill him in real life, the case would have been solved.  I was too distracted by all the other suspects to home in on his easy tells.  He told me afterwards that he thought I was onto him.  I wasn’t.  Have a murder mystery party with your tribe.  I highly recommend it.  Just don’t live a murder mystery party life.  #wepreach

Wednesday night Bible study at my church is called “Refresh.”  It’s a wonderful opportunity to get you over the hump until you get the Word on Sunday.  For a great portion of my life, it was the only time I’d crack open the Bible outside of Sundays.  I’m just being honest.  I still struggle to spend time just studying.  Writing the blog has helped my faith walk tremendously because I find myself getting interested in the stories of the people in the Bible.  The reality of their situations.  I’m looking at events with new eyes.  Enough about me.  On to the topic of this week’s Bible Study. My pastor didn’t deliver the message.  That might have deterred others, but they missed a mighty word.  One of the associate ministers taught from Mark chapter 12.  This particular event begins with a scribe asking Jesus a question.  Scribes were responsible for copying Old Testament scripture.  They spent time with the Word.  They had intimate knowledge of all the laws that Jewish people were to uphold. The scribe wants Jesus to tell the crowd which commandment is the most important.  Jesus responds that the very first commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and strength.  He then adds that the second greatest commandment is to love your neighbor as yourself.  Basically, Jesus says love God, love yourself, and love others, and you’ll be alright. The scribe commends Jesus for giving such a concise response.  Then Jesus gives the man what appears to be a compliment.  Jesus tells the scribe that he is not far from the kingdom of God.  The associate minister put this part of the story in a new light.  Have you ever heard the saying “almost doesn’t count?”  I know it’s a song by the singer Brandy.  Since that came to mind, I can’t get the song out of my head!!!!  Pray for me…lol. The point is that not being far from the kingdom of God is not good enough for me.  It shouldn’t be good enough for you either.  Not far = not in.  Wouldn’t you hate to almost get to heaven?  To almost have been ready to accept Jesus but then you died?   Oooooooo weeeeeeeee!  So many of us are not far from the kingdom, and yet we’re still far.  What’s holding you back from fully accepting Jesus?  You can take time right now to say, “Lord, it’s me.  I know I mess up.  I get it wrong sometimes, and I’m tired of that life.  I’m choosing You today.  Will you come into my heart Jesus?  Will you wash all my sins away?  I need You.”  Or anything along that line.  Ask Jesus to come in and make you new, and He will.  I know because He makes me new EVERY day.  I’m not just saying that.  I’m living that.  #wepreach 

Fun Fact:  I didn’t want to go to college.  I vividly remember touring the University of Arkansas in Fayetteville in my junior year of high school.  The campus was HUGE!  There were so many students hustling and bustling around.  While it was beautiful, I knew it wasn’t for me. Before deciding to attend the University of Central Arkansas, I toured that campus too.  It was nowhere near as large, but I figured I could tough it out there.  Plus, it was close to home.  I didn’t want to be too far away, because I didn’t want to go in the first place. Bible Study Brother found it odd that I had no desire to go to college.  I explained to him that I didn’t think I could make it through to graduation.  Yea, I was high school smart, but was I college smart?  All my life, I heard about how hard college was.  The late-night study sessions. Twenty-page papers.  Throw my introverted nature in there, and it was a recipe for disaster.  I wanted no parts of it. You may wonder what my alternative plan was.  I wanted any get rich quick scheme that would show my mom that I could survive.  I wanted Jesus to drop a wad of cash in my lap the summer before college so that I could politely decline this education. I’m sure it sounds foolish to you, but I don’t like failure.  In my mind, the rubber was about to meet the road, and I was going to come up short.  After the fall semester of my sophomore year in college, I had a grown-up, mature, enlightened conversation with Bible Study Mama.  I had bullet points about why taking a break from college was a good idea.  She shot me down and told me to keep on pressing.  Ugggh! I had great grades, but failure was all I could see.  Isn’t that crazy?  I look back, and I’m so glad that she didn’t let me quit.  Right now, I don’t want to try to reach my goals.  Nothing major is wrong.  I’m just tired.  And my goals seem so far away.  They are at the top of a mountain that I’m unsure about climbing.  Mannnnnnn…I’m going to climb the mountain.  Be prepared to hear about this journey.  #wepreach

When you look at my age, and my bills, you would consider me a grown-up.  I own a home and a car.  I have a Master’s degree.  I’m gainfully employed.  But I don’t feel grown-up.  On the inside, I’m a kid waiting to experience the magic of adulthood. I thought being a grown-up meant that I could do WHATEVER I wanted to do…whenever I wanted to do it.  That is partly true.  But there are so many things that tie me down.  So many responsibilities that I didn’t have when I was child. My therapist really got my wheels spinning in my most recent session.  He told me that I need to decide what I want to be when I grow up.  He didn’t say it in a condescending way.  He really just reminded me that I do have options.  I don’t have to continue on the path that I’m currently on.  I can choose a different career, a different home, a new life. That’s the magic of adulthood I suppose, but it’s not the magic that I was looking for.  When I was eighteen and on the cusp of embracing adulthood, I started to pull back.  The thing that I wanted so badly was right in my grasp, and it was scary. I find myself in that same position in this season of my life.  A new beginning is within my reach.  Should I touch it?  Do I dare stretch out my hand and reach for something that’s unfamiliar and foreign?  What DO I want to be when I grow up? I may be the only person that has experienced these feelings.  I followed everyone else’s idea of success and prosperity.  People can look at me and think I made it, but let’s peel back these layers.  Where did I make it to?  The deeper that I dig inside of me, the more questions that it creates.  I suppose ya’ll will have a front row seat as I decide what I want to be when I grow up.  #wepreach

Well, the Lord did it again.  My pastor allowed God to use him in a mighty way on Sunday.  If the first Sunday of 2020 was any indication of where the year will lead, we are all in position for an awesome adventure.  The sermon falls in line with what the previous blogs have discussed…vision. Mark 8:22-26 tells the story of a blind man.  The man’s friends bring him to Jesus because they want Jesus to restore the man’s sight.  What awesome friends!  They know the blind man has a need so they take him to the one who can do something about it. My pastor shared that this was the only miracle that was done in stages.  Generally, Jesus touches someone or speaks a Word, and their life is instantly transformed.  Why did He alter His usual process in this instance?  Well, per today’s sermon points, I can tell you what my pastor inferred from this whole exchange. The first stage involves Jesus leading the blind man away from His friends.  Jesus takes the man by the hand and begins to walk him outside of the village.  I have to wonder what the man thought at this point.  He knows his friends, but he doesn’t know Jesus.  But Jesus is compassionate.  He doesn’t speak.  He just leads the man away.  Further away from his friends and totally at the mercy of Jesus. The man’s faith sustained him during the pulling away from all that was familiar.  Now it was on to the next stage.  Jesus spits and puts the saliva on the man’s eyes.  He asks the man if he can see anything.  The man blinks and says that he can see people but they kind of look like trees walking.  It’s another test of his faith.  He wants to see.  He believes it’s possible, but his vision is still distorted. The final step occurs when Jesus places his hands on the man’s eyes again.  The man looks intently, and his sight was restored.  He could see EVERYTHING clearly.  What a miracle! My pastor wrapped up the sermon by challenging our thought process.  Perhaps Jesus performed the miracle one stage at a time because of the man’s faith level.  Because Jesus is compassionate, He was patient.  And little by little, He blessed the man on the level of his faith. I’m certain that God is doing this very thing with me right now.  I want financial freedom.  So, He’s blessing me where I am.  I’m being a more faithful steward of my money.  It’s a challenge, but I know that God is meeting me in the place that I stand.  I want to experience His peace.  So, I’ve started to be intentional about my prayer life.  God is meeting me right where I am. He will meet you too.  He will take your hand and guide you while you’re still blind.  He will pull you away from the crowds and distractions to minister just to you.  He will ask what you’re believing Him for.  He will challenge you to dare to dream that you can receive the very things that you ask Him for.  And in the end, He will give you a much better view.  #wepreach

Friday night was not what I expected.  When I returned from Utah in early December, I was optimistic and full of hope.  I had energy and wanted to share some of that energy with my friends and family.  I called Bible Study Mama to secure my favorite venue (her house) for the first Friday of 2020.  I wanted to have a vision board party.  I entitled this extravaganza 2020 Vision. Bible Study Mama quickly gave the okay.  I sent out text messages to members of my tribe and invited them to participate.  Some responses were immediate, and the rest were crickets.  I wasn’t deterred.  I pressed Bible Study Brother on the issue.  I got eye rolls and shoulder shrugs. Then the day of the event arrived.  Actually, Thursday arrived, and I was regretting my enthusiasm in December.  I was NOT in the mood for a vision board party.  My current vision was about turtling in my home on Friday, but like a good soldier, I marched on. I’m so glad I marched on.  Bible Study Brother was not the only member of the Bible Study family that was on the fence.  Even though we were meeting at her house, Bible Study Mama wasn’t inclined to participate.  Of course, I talked crazy to her, and she said she would give it a try. There was a spirit of excitement in the house.  Magazines, glue, scissors, markers, washi tape, and blank boards that were waiting for us to put our mark on them.  It was a slow start as people began to cut out pictures and words that they felt applied to the life that they desired. Words and pictures were leaping off the page at me.  I cut until I had a huge pile.  I looked from my pile to my board and decided that I needed to try to lay out what I had so far.  When I placed everything on the board, I started to edit because I realized that I had left huge gaps.  Some of the pieces just didn’t fit.  Even though I thought I wanted them, there wasn’t the right amount of room. Another amazing thing began to happen.  People shouted from table to table about the specific things that they were looking for.  There was a spirit of cooperativeness as we helped each other complete our visions. It doesn’t take a super saved person to see how special this party was to me.  I’m guilty of piling all the things that I want on the altar.  I say “Lord, I want this, that, and the other thing.”  This exercise helped me see that I don’t really need all those things that I petition Him for.  He showed me that He makes room for the things that are the most important. This party also showed me just how much I NEED community.  Even though we were all working on our own boards, people were able to look out for others.  There were several times that someone was able to hand over what someone else had been looking for.  It was beautiful. The party wasn’t super spiritual.  I was not walking around with oil and praying over every board.  We did bless the food and ask God’s blessing over the night, but it wasn’t an exercise in evaluating our closeness to God.  It was an opportunity to get clear focus.  A chance to align ourselves.  The night was a clear reminder to me that I’m nothing without God’s guidance.  I can make all the plans in the world, but they will be frivolous without His hand on them. It also reminded me that I could see someone else’s vision board and still not be able to interpret what their vision meant.  Our journeys are personal to us.  Listening to others describe their boards was priceless.  We are all on this journey.  Make time to build community.  Gather your friends and family and have a vision board party. #wepreach

I have the privilege of meeting with the bright minds of tomorrow on a daily basis.  I have to recognize that it is a privilege.  When my little friends are having a rough day, it can feel like a punishment.  Yet, my job has so many bright spots.  Literally, every day a little person will do something that makes me laugh and smile.  They question everything and hold nothing back. Just the other day, I was in a struggle with one of my tiniest friends.  Well, tiny is kind of a misnomer.  He’s young in age but big in body.  He’s not yet walking.  He has mastered the art of rolling over.  His grip strength is not in question.  But his ability to see clearly has definitely been called into question.  His mother took him to the optometrist.  He was prescribed glasses.  Hence, our struggle. This is a small divergence, but I think babies with glasses are just sooooo stinking cute.  Unfortunately, my little friend didn’t share my opinion.  He did not want those glasses on his face.  He wanted to hold them.  He wanted to lick them.  He did NOT want to use them for their intended purpose. I took the glasses off his tiny face and cleaned them.  You can just imagine from my previous description of his actions that they were pretty disgusting.  And hard to see out of.  After I cleaned the glasses and wrestled them into position on his face, there was an amazing reaction.  His eyes widened, and he literally jumped when I pulled out a toy.  He could see it clearly!  He squealed loudly with joy and reached for the rattle.  Mission accomplished. I have a personal example from my own experiences.  Although I like spending all the money, I can be cheap.  I like to feel like I’m getting a good deal.  So, I put off getting my eye prescription updated until about three months ago.  I thought that my prescription hadn’t changed.  I could see well enough.  Ya’ll when my new glasses came in it was like I was seeing in 3-D!!!  I had no idea my sight had changed that much in a couple of years. I live my life like my tiny friend.  I’m content with viewing the world through my smudged-up glasses.  They’re comfortable.  Ya’ll know God had a trick for me.  He wrestled with me to pull off my disgusting spectacles.  He wanted me to have 20/20 vision.  I viewed God the way that I had all my life, and He wanted me to view Him for who He truly is.  I needed to see Him in 3-D.  I needed to see Him in every dimension of my life.  He wants the same for you too.  Let 2020 be the year that God shows Himself to you clearly!  #wepreach

My favorite movie is “Imitation of Life.”  If you’ve never seen it, you should check it out.  Although it’s my favorite movie, I haven’t watched it often.  I know people that watch the same movies over and over, so they know the lines by heart.  When I was a kid, I watched musicals on repeat.  I made my brother learn all the songs and choreography to our favorite Disney movies.  But as an adult, I have moved away from that. I’m a fan of this movie because it’s a timeless tale.  It’s about coming of age in a segregated world.  It’s about finding your place.  It’s about realizing who and what you are.  I don’t think I realized until just now.  This movie resonates with me so much because it’s about me. Unlike the girl in the film, I’m fully vested in being a black woman.  Our similarity is that I struggle to know who I am besides that.  I have lots of labels…daughter, sister, granddaughter, friend, speech language pathologist, Christian, foodie, sweet, kind, respectable.  But none of those labels sums me up totally.  They are all just pieces of me. Labels have made me feel stuck in some respects.  If I lose the title of foodie and retrain my mind to eat for nourishment, do I lose me?  If I fall short of being a “good” daughter, am I unfit for the kingdom?  If I begin to work out regularly, will that make me a fitness freak?  Can I live up to that title?  Will people give me grace when I fall short of the labels that they’ve given me?  Will I give myself grace when I miss the mark? I’m just being honest.  I constantly evaluate myself and how I measure up.  Here lately, I’ve talked to God and looked to Him more than I look to other people.  Y’all I don’t want an imitation of life.  I want the real thing.  I want life and life more abundantly!  #wepreach

Happy New Year!!!!  (Cue the streamers and confetti.)  It’s a celebration!  When this is released, I will be curled up in my bed with Fitz.  Sleeping off all the New Year’s Eve festivities.  I rang in the New Year praising the Lord with my church family and my family family.  They wanted me to be the ball drop in the parking lot afterwards.  I was tempted, but I fought through the temptation and made my way home.  As soon as I got home, I popped bottles (it was apple cider…let’s be reasonable) with Bible Study Brother, Bible Study Mama, and my sister-in-law.  I rang the year in with style. Since I attended church for New Year’s Eve, I get to start off the year with a sermon recap.  My pastor came with a fresh word from the Lord.  He led us to I Samuel 30:1-8.  Recorded in those verses is an account of an obstacle David faced.  I’ve discussed David before.  He was anointed by Saul.  David was called.  David had purpose. David and his men returned to Ziklag after fighting in numerous battles.  Nothing could have prepared them for the sight that awaited them.  While they were away, the Amalekites had burned the city and kidnapped their wives and children.  Everything was destroyed.  The men were so devastated that the Bible says that they cried until they couldn’t cry anymore.  This wasn’t soft crying.  They were loud.  I imagine it’s the kind of crying that leaves you with hiccups.  The kind of crying that leaves you laid out on the floor. After all these strong, fighting men stopped crying…after they exhausted themselves with their grief…they got angry.  They didn’t get angry at the Amalekites.  They were nowhere to be found.  They got angry at the person that they could see.  They got mad at David.  After all, if they hadn’t been following him and fighting his battles, they would have been home to protect the things-the people-that were precious to them. David doesn’t run.  He immediately consults God.  He asks two pressing and poignant questions. Can I go find the Amalekites? If I fight them, will I win? God is gracious.  He tells David to go get the Amalekites.  He assures David that not only will he win the battle, but he will have everything that was lost restored back to him.  David just wanted an eye for an eye.  But God wanted to see David and his men made whole.  I’m convinced that this message is for you and for me. If you’re wondering if you should pursue the business, run after it.  If you are tired of praying for your abusive parent, keep praying.  When you’ve cried until you’re empty, don’t give up.  God is in the business of restoring everything that you thought you lost.  Everything that God has purposed for your life is yours and yours alone.  No one else can touch it.  Long story short-we survived it!  2020 is ours!!!!  #wepreach

The last day in the year of our Lord 2019 has arrived!!!!  We made it ya’ll!!!  This is definitely cause for celebration for me, because this has been a YEAR!  You want to talk about tried by the fire?!?!?!  Yet, here I stand.  I’m grateful and humbled and amazed. The words “auld lang syne” are Scottish and mean “old long since” when translated to English.  Basically, it means that we remember the good old days.  The time that has passed us by.  So, it’s a perfectly appropriate phrase to wrap up the end of the year.  Really, we’re wrapping up the end of a decade. My Soul Sister and I used to have a yearly recap at the end of each year.  We’d go through each month and try to remember what happened.  Often, we would be amazed at just how much had happened in the span of 12 months.  Life would be radically different in only 365 days. Everyone who started out this year with us didn’t make it to the end.  I’m not just talking abstractly.  People my age and members of my own family transitioned to be with the Lord.  We expect the elderly to pass away.  We think they’ve lived their life.  When the young die, it hits us differently.  It can shake our faith. I can talk about a million things that tried to take me out in 2019, but I’m going to end this year’s series of blogs on a high note.  I have to meditate on God’s goodness.  I have to meditate on His mercy.  I have to meditate on His favor. He has continually put people in my path this year who only want to bless me.  People who have said kind words to me.  Ya’ll have encouraged me.  You have championed me.  You have helped me to keep my eyes lifted and focused on Him. Thanks for looking past my run-on sentences and corny jokes.  Thanks for seeing my heart and knowing that I’m just like you.  I’m doing the best that I can to live a life that will please God. If you’re hitting the streets tonight, be careful.  I would say don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.  But I’d do a lot of stuff that’s not Christ-like, so follow your heart child.  Maybe I should say, “Let the Lord use you.”  Because I followed my heart last New Year’s Eve and…We can’t talk about that on this blog…LOL.  My plan is to be at church.  I’m going to praise the New Year in. I don’t know if I’ve said it before (I’m too lazy to go back through the blogs), but 2020 is going to be epic.  I’m positive that I’ve said it to people in my personal life.  I have butterflies and goosebumps at the same time.  Can you feel it????  I hope the energy is leaping off your phone or computer.  Positive winds are sweeping the atmosphere, and I hope you can feel the breeze.  The best is yet to come ya’ll.  #wepreach

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not see. But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him. Hebrews 11:1,6 Today’s sermon recap is extra special, because I’m recapping a message that was given by Bible Study mama yesterday.  See, sometimes I get caught up in my own life and am guilty of half listening and not comprehending.  She told me that she was speaking at church on mission Sunday in December.  I was listening to what she was saying, but I wasn’t comprehending that she was THE messenger.  Thankfully on Friday night, I got the full understanding of why she was fretting.  Let me tell ya’ll…God used her in a mighty way! You might think I’m a little prejudiced, because she’s my mom.  And I am.  But if you haven’t picked up on it yet, we tell the truth in our family.  If you’re singing and off key, we let you know.  If your outfit is just not right, we have no problem steering you the right way.  If you said the wrong thing, we’ll set you straight.  So, take it from me, she delivered a timely and timeless message. On to the sermon recap.  She began the message reciting Hebrews 11: 1, 6.  These verses declare that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen.  They also remind us that it is IMPOSSIBLE to please God without faith and that we must diligently seek Him.  God is always talking to us.  Are we listening and looking for his guidance and direction in our lives? Next, she reminded us of the women of faith who are named in the Bible.  Certainly, you’re familiar with Hannah, Ruth, Elizabeth, and Mary, the mother of Jesus.  If not, you’re behind on the blog.  So, stick a pin in this and go catch up…LOL.  She went on to name the six other Mary’s in the Bible (I didn’t know there were seven Mary’s in total).  And then came Jael. If you don’t know Jael, you’re in good company.  I have only heard one sermon be preached about her in the entirety of my Christian life.  And ya’ll know that I stay in church.  The nation of Israel was being oppressed by the Canaanites.  The two nations were at war.  Barak was chosen by God to be the leader of Israel’s army. Deborah is the prophetess that delivered the news to Barak.  She told Barak to gather his men for the fight.  Barak responds that he will only go if Deborah goes with him.  Deborah replies that she will go.  She then informs Barak that because of his half obedience the victory against the Canaanites will come through the hands of a woman.  Sisera is the commander of the Canaanite army.  When the two armies finally meet in battle, things slip out of Sisera’s control.  The Canaanites are losing.  So, Sisera does what any respectable commander would do.  He runs and leaves his troops to spare his own life.  (I hope you caught my sarcasm.)  During his great escape, he happens to run by Jael’s tent.  Jael comes out and tells him not to be afraid.  Sisera asks for water, and Jael does him one better.  She gives him milk.  She gives him cream in a bowl.  She provides him a shelter.  Sisera is comforted and comfortable.  He goes to sleep.  Jael takes a peg from her tent and a hammer and drives the peg through Sisera’s temple while he sleeps.  The commander of the Canaanite army is dead at the hands of a woman. Jael’s act took incredible faith.  Per my mother, faith should not just be a verb.  As a Christian, faith is not just something you act out.  Faith should be a noun.  Faith should embody your entire being.  I don’t know about you, but my entire life has been a faith walk.  People may never know your name.  They may look past you, but God doesn’t.  He responds to the faith that surrounds you.  We are a people of faith serving a faithful God.  #wepreach

Whenever it’s time to get the ends of my hair trimmed, I get a blowout.  My stylist washes and uses a blow dryer to dry my hair.  Then she uses a flat iron to further straighten my hair and to add a little curl.  She always does an amazing job.  My hair has body and shine.  It moves when there is the slightest breeze in the air.  Pretty cool. When I was a little girl, I would walk around the house with a t-shirt on my head.  I loved long hair, and I felt that this was the best way to achieve it.  Don’t get me wrong.  I had long hair as a child, but I wanted more.  I wanted hair down to my butt, and the t-shirt was as close as I could get.  The people in my family were used to my drama, so they didn’t give me strange looks.  I’ve digressed long enough.  Back to my blowout. I enjoy running my fingers through my hair when it’s straight.  My family rolls their eyes because THERE WILL be lots of hair tossing and shaking during conversation.  It’s a reminder of my childhood t-shirt hair days…LOL.  My mom will ask if my neck is hurting from all the hair tossing.  The answer is no mom.  NO!  The straight hair is great…but it’s not practical. My hair longs to be in its natural state.  Even though it’s been stretched to capacity, it wants to go back to what’s comfortable.  I already know this, so I prepare mightily before going to the stylist.  Shower cap…check.  Umbrella…check.  Air conditioner blasting…check. Even on a sunny day.  I stay ready.  I don’t want to be caught off guard.  If any moisture comes from scalp, face, or the sky, all of my stylist’s hard work will be in vain. How I wish that I prepared for life like I prepare for my bi-annual hair appointments.  I prioritize these appointments, because they cost so much.  I don’t want that money to go to waste.  But I’ll let precious moments with God go to waste.  And those moments cost much more than my hair appointments do.  Jesus paid with His life.  I promise I don’t walk around with a cross slinging holy water on people…LOL.  I’m sure that may be the way I seem.  God has just been using the smallest things to check my heart.  He’s checking my intentions.  He wants me to be ready for whatever life throws my way.  #wepreach

It’s the last Saturday of 2019.  I don’t know about you, but this year has flown by for me.  It’s amazing how life can change in 365 days.  The end of the year causes me to be reflective.  This time last year, I was strutting around with a pretty diamond on my left ring finger.  I had no desire or thought to write a blog, write a book, or record a podcast.  My dream of what 2019 held for me was much different than the reality of what 2019 held for me.  Let’s look ahead to what Saturdays in 2020 will look like for Bible Study Girl and the Bible Study Girl family.  Face it guys…we’re family!  Next Saturday, Seriously Saved Saturdays is launching on the website.  New Bible Study Girl podcasts will drop every Saturday. So, why the title “Seriously Saved Saturdays”?  Well, some of the senior saints and super saints may question just how saved I am after they listen to the podcast…LOL.  I have wanted open and honest dialogue about what Christianity means to the body of Christ.  I wanted to talk to Christians about their faith walk in a real way, and God opened those doors for me. This series of podcasts has provided me the opportunity to talk with friends and family about Christian life outside of church walls.  We discuss how their relationship with God has evolved over the years.  You’ll get the opportunity to hear more about my personal faith journey.  You’ll hear from Bible Study Mama and Bible Study Brother.  I’m still trying to convince Bible Study Cousin, so pray hard saints…LOL.  You’ll get to hear from other guest contributors who have shared a piece of their story on the blog already.  You’ll also get the opportunity to hear from new voices.  Even though I’ve known my mama my whole life, I learned so many fun facts about her from this sit-down conversation.  We talk on a day-to-day basis.  So, it was surprising to learn new information about her relationship with Christ. 2020 is going to be epic!!!  I can feel the winds of change coming, and I’m excited.  #wepreach

Although Sweet Baby is only five, she can drop some precious pearls of knowledge. She is in love with my cat, Fitz. So, she always asks how he is doing. I told her that Fitz got a shot recently, but he handled it like a champ. Then, I shared with her that I’m not a big fan of shots. She was surprised that I wasn’t fearless. She told me that she had gotten a flu shot, and she wasn’t scared at all. As a matter of fact, she told me that she was brave. The thing that I love about Sweet Baby is that she didn’t want me going through life afraid of anything. So, she shared her recipe for bravery. She told me to close my eyes, take a deep breath, and it would all be over before I knew it. She didn’t just tell me how to be brave either. She gave me a visual of this exercise using a nice, calm voice. It was incredibly impressive! Even though she was talking about a shot from a doctor, you can put a spiritual lens on this principle. Life gets uncomfortable. We get sick and stuck in sin. Sometimes God, the Great Physician, has to give us shots to heal our sickness. The shots generally involve us dealing with the issues that brought us to Him in the first place. Dealing with our issues is uncomfortable. Addressing our sin and hidden insecurities is not light work. I know because that’s the space that I’m currently existing in. Then God sent the sweetest Sweet Baby in the world to remind me to be brave. To close my eyes, take a deep breath, and let Him work it all out. It will be over before I know it. #wepreach #bebrave

The last Christmas of the decade is over. Let’s have a recap shall we. The alarm clock went off early Christmas morning. No, I wasn’t making children get up to see all the goodies that Santa left. Bible Study Mama and I had a full day planned, so I needed to get to the races. We started off the day with the 6 am morning worship service at my church. I surprised her and told her that her Christmas gift would be to sit WHEREVER she wanted to in the church. In case I haven’t mentioned it before, she LOVES being as close to the front of the church as possible. I don’t. See my sacrificial offering??? She chose the middle of the church. Third aisle from the front. Her dream. My nightmare. It was only after looking around and greeting my neighbors that I realized where we were. Smack dab in the middle of the mothers’s of the church. For those that don’t know, the mothers are the elderly ladies in a good down home style church. I pointed this out to my mom, and she asked if we needed to move. Nope! Let’s just praise the Lord from this pew honey. After church, we returned to my house to pick up my camera. This unplanned detour threw our carefully timed day off. But hey…life happens. We journeyed down the road to the other St. Luke deep in the country. The Little Rock Southernaires were on program. We had practiced enough…right??? We slid into St. Luke, and the lead soloist, choir director, and perfectionist needed to potty. No problem. Except everyone was waiting for us. Well, let’s just say the Little Rock Southernaires gave it our best shot. We DID sing praises unto the most high God. Was it a joyful noise unto the Lord? That’s debatable. Bible Study Cousin gave her best performance to date. We’ll just say to God be the glory. After two church services, your girl was tired BUT ready for the next part of the day. Feasting (Sweet Baby’s word choice…not mine), fellowship, and fun. We ate until we couldn’t eat anymore. We played games. We laughed. We had an awesome time. Then Bible Study Mama and I made the trek back to Little Rock. The day didn’t go according to my plan, but it was perfect. I can truly say that it is well with my soul. Who knows what your Christmas day was like. If it didn’t go exactly the way that you planned, know that there IS a perfect plan for your life. I should have had this blog written long before Christmas night. All day long I planned to steal away for 15 or 20 minutes to type it out, but that wasn’t what happened. So forgive the typos and illogical sentences. You might actually be used to those by now…LOL. I’m working the day after Christmas. So, I’m signing off with one of Santa’s epic lines….and to all a good night!

I know it rubs some people the wrong way that we celebrate Jesus’ birth in the winter. Biblical scholars have surmised that Jesus was likely born during the summer months. The Bible doesn’t give a calendar date for His birth either. I’m sure that was intentional. I don’t care about knowing the exact date. I’m just grateful that I have the opportunity to celebrate this joyous occasion. On Christmas Day last year, Jesus was not high on my priority list. I was focused on myself and doing whatever it took to avoid addressing some real life hurts. God has been gracious and merciful and kind to me. I’m thankful that I got to spend Christmas Eve with my mom and Fitz. My brother and his wife stopped by for a bit. Bible Study Brother was pressed into cat grooming duties against his will, but it all turned out beautifully. I get to spend today with my extended family. The Little Rock Southernaires had a successful rehearsal and we’re revved up for our Christmas morning engagement. We may even have a special guest singer join us. I’ll let you know how it goes. Being in a better place mentally is allowing me to appreciate the small moments that my big God has gifted to me. I appreciate His sacrifice all the more. No matter how you spend this day, take time to thank God for giving us the best gift of all. Happy Birthday Jesus!

When it comes to Christmas music, “Silent Night” is a classic. I love to hear a clear soprano rendition of this tune. Curiosity got the best of me, and I dug a little deeper into the origin of this timeless song. Joseph Franz Mohr, a pastor in Austria, was in a tizzy on Christmas Eve 1818. He was in desperate need of a song for Christmas Eve midnight mass. Although he had written a poem, it needed to be paired with music. He walked three kilometers to a friend’s house to get some help. His friend, Franz Xaver Gruber, was an organist. Together, they were able pair the words with a melody. The song was performed by them the first time that Christmas Eve. The little song that could. I’m sure neither of them could have ever imagined the impact their song would have. I bet they couldn’t have imagined that we would be singing the song over 200 years later. Silent night, holy night, all is calm, all is bright. On this Christmas Eve, I pray that you’re not in a tizzy. I pray that you get moments to breathe and remember the Christ child. #wepreach

Happy Monday everyone!  Christmas week has finally arrived, and our Sunday sermon recap shines a different light on the Christmas story.  Lately, our sermons have been about dealing with the no’s that life can throw at you.  This Sunday, pastor made us think about times when it made more sense to say” no” but “yes” was our reply. I’m guilty of telling people “yes” frequently.  I may not have the money, but I’ll buy food for someone that’s in need.  My time may be short, but I’ll stop what I’m doing to help someone else complete a task.  Stopping may make me late for the next scheduled activity, but I’ll do it because I want to be a help. On the flip side, we know that I can be hesitant to give God a “yes.”  The “yes” could be the most logical step, but you know it takes me a minute.  I really contemplate my “yes” when “no” is the option that makes more sense to me. In Sunday’s sermon, pastor spoke about Mary and her willingness to say “yes” to God’s will for her life when “no” made so much more sense.  According to research, Mary was likely between the ages of 12-14 when the angel came and informed her that she would be the mother of Jesus. Naturally, Mary questioned how this was even going to be a possibility.  She feels compelled to let the angel know that, even though she is engaged, she has never been with a man in that way.  She is curious about how this conception would come to be.  God is not threatened by her curiosity or her questions.  The angel explains that the Holy Spirit will come upon her and voila…she will be impregnated with the Word. When Mary was initially impregnated, no one looking at her knew what a gift she had inside of her.  But Mary knew.  She fed and nurtured Jesus, and the living Word began to grow.  As the Word grew inside of her, others around could look and see the physical change that was happening with her.  She looked different.  She was becoming different. It wasn’t enough for the Word to grow inside of her.  Yes, it was changing her, but God didn’t send Jesus just to change her.  He sent Jesus to change the world.  Mary goes through labor and the Word comes pouring out of her.  I’m sure the labor was difficult.  And definitely not pretty.  But it was necessary. Mary could have said “no.”  She was engaged to a good guy.  Her life was set on a path.  “No” actually made the most sense.  But she said “yes.”  She chose a path that wasn’t even on her radar.  God could have chosen anyone, but He chose her.  The Word that God has planted in you is not just for you.  He wants to free you and everyone around you.  Share the Word even when it’s uncomfortable.  Share the Word even when it’s not in your plans for the day.  Be the person who says “yes” when no makes better sense.  #wepreach

Watching Hallmark movies during the Christmas season is one of my things.  My mom and I sit and watch these improbable story lines.  We must suspend belief and not question situations, because it takes the fun away.  It takes the magic away.  On Saturday, we watched “A Christmas Miracle” starring Tamera Mowry-Housley.  Do ya’ll remember her from the TV show “Sister, Sister” or her current daytime talk show “The Real”?  In this movie, she is a recently divorced single mom who has moved from rural Georgia all the way to the big city of Denver, Colorado.  She is an aspiring journalist and is ready to get her feet wet in the journalism world. Her primary focus during the movie is to discover a Christmas miracle that she can tell the world about.  She wants the miracle to be inspiring and give people hope.  I could have made her search a lot simpler.  The Christmas story of Jesus’ birth is a miracle that shouldn’t be ignored.  Caesar Augustus calls for a census around the time that Jesus is going to be born.  Mary and Joseph travel to Bethlehem to register for the census.  While there, Mary goes into labor and delivers our Salvation, her sweet baby Jesus.  Herod decides to kill all male children two years old and under that were in Bethlehem and all its districts.  He was trying to kill Jesus.  He wanted to kill the world’s hope. An angel of the Lord appears to Joseph in a dream and tells him that it is not safe for his family to remain where they are.  They must flee to Egypt and stay their until they hear from God again.  Part of me feels like Joseph’s obedience is a Christmas miracle because ya’ll know I’m hard-headed.  But Joseph didn’t hesitate to obey God’s commands.  His obedience spares Jesus’ life and the life of all of us.  A Christmas Miracle. I see so much beauty and majesty in our Christmas story.  As many times as it’s been told it never gets old.  I know how the story ends, but I want to hear it time and time again.  The miracle of Christmas makes life worth living.  #wepreach

Christmas is quickly approaching.  As a child, I adored the holiday season.  It seemed so magical.  And food was everywhere.  I remember my great-grandmother starting her baking campaign.  You know I was all for it.  The deep freezer would be covered with delicious cakes.  Out would come the bowls of oranges and nuts.  The fancy white Christmas tree would make its debut.  We were ready for Christmas. As I got older, Christmas changed.  My brother started the tradition of praying before we opened our presents.  He would tell Jesus happy birthday, and then we would indulge in ripping paper off the presents like mad men.  We would go to Christmas morning service sometimes and then make our way back home.  We were ready for Christmas. Of course, Christmas evolved again as we continued to age.  We began to go back to my great-grandmother’s house for big family Christmas.  We started the tradition of picking a person’s name on Thanksgiving so that you were only responsible for gifting one person on Christmas Day.  Our family was growing in number.  But we made plans to be ready for Christmas. I wonder what you’re doing to prepare yourself for Christmas for this year.  It’s so easy to forget about Jesus in the holiday hustle and bustle.  I was amazed, and a little offended, by the amount of traffic I encountered this past Thursday night.  I found myself wondering what in the world was going on.  Then, I remembered that people are getting ready for Christmas. Take time to acknowledge Jesus.  The parties are fun.  The food is terrific.  The gifts bring joy, but they should not ever be the central focus of this season.  We spend so much time making sure that things look right that we can neglect what is right.  For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government will be upon His shoulder.  And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  Let’s get ready for Christmas.  #wepreach

My church had our Christmas Cantata Wednesday night, and it was beautiful.  The choir was dressed in all white.  They were intent on singing praises to our King.  And sing, they did.  However, the standout musical moment came when a teeny tiny girl entered center stage. She was so small that you could barely see her face above the poinsettias that lined the front of the altar.  A recording of “Who Would Imagine a King?” began to play, and she sang along with the recording.  Once she was all cued up, the recording faded away, and it was just her and the pianist. When I say she sang this song with clarity and passion…If you were there, you couldn’t help but get goosebumps.  Maybe you’ve never heard the song.  The lyrics give a rundown of all the things that sweet little baby Jesus could have been.  It speaks of how parents always have hopes for their kids.  But who could imagine the blessing that Jesus would be? The world clearly had never experienced or met anyone like Him.  The Savior of the world wrapped up in blankets.  Lying in a manger.  Being held and adored by Mary and Joseph.  First time parents who really had no idea what was in store for them. I wonder what it felt like to look into Jesus’ eyes for the first time.  To smell his sweet baby breath.  To feel the warmth of his skin.  To just marvel at his newness.  I think we forget that Jesus was once a real baby.  An innocent child who would ultimately pay for all our sin. The tiny girl’s sweet voice made me evaluate what a precious gift Jesus was to all of humanity.  I’m sure her parents were proud to hear her strong delivery.  She didn’t back down from the high notes at the end.  She was determined to hit them and hit them well.  Much like Jesus.  He started off innocent and sweet and had some hard, high notes to hit at the end.  He hit the notes perfectly when He endured the nails being driven through His hands and feet on Calvary’s cross. (You’re not a good Baptist if all roads don’t lead to Calvary…LOL)  I’m so glad that that sweet baby grew up to be man determined to live out His life’s purpose.  I’m so glad that He could imagine being the King.  #wepreach #whowouldimagineaking

God allowed a little girl to be molested for years.  She didn’t tell anyone or ask for help.  It was her secret shame.  Eventually, she told her mother, but the damage had been done.  She was forever scarred and broken.  I’m that little girl. God allowed me to make one horrible decision after the other.  To be honest, I didn’t even realize how much molestation changed my life course.  I’m very guarded with my feelings and my friendship.  There is an impressive gate set around my heart that has strict orders to keep most people out.  To keep them away from the real me. God allowed me to spiral into a true depression.  I was functional.  I went to work and made it through the days.  When I got home, I crashed and marinated in being alone.  In being on my island.  I curled into myself.  Putting on for other people can be exhausting.  Maintaining tight control of the boundaries of my heart single handedly is hard work. God allowed me to realize that all I had was Him.  And if I let Him have my hurt, He could patch me up.  So, I gave it ALL over to Him.  My anger.  My fear.  My sadness.  My heart.  I gave up control. God allowed doors to open up.  I went to youniquefoundation.org and applied to attend their Haven Retreat.  A haven, by definition, is a safe place.  And last week, I got the opportunity to begin healing in a safe place.  The Younique Foundation is not a Christian organization.  It was founded by a woman who survived childhood sexual abuse.  She wanted other women to know that they weren’t alone.  She wanted them to know that there is hope and help. God allowed me to tell my story.  I met women from around the country who knew my story before I ever opened my mouth, because it was their story too.  And although it has generally been a story of defeat, the retreat gave me the opportunity to see that my story is not over.  My story can have a marvelous ending. God allowed unspeakable hurt.  God allowed dashed dreams.  God allowed desperate prayers.  God allowed doubt.  God allowed fear.  But God also allowed faith.  God allowed purpose.  God allowed promise to sprout up in me.  God allowed a haven to soothe my soul.  God allowed peace.  God allowed passion.  God allowed grace.  God allowed another chance for me to see a better end.  #wepreach #godallowed

Bible Study Cousin asked me if I bought any Bath & Body Works candles on the day of their big sale.  She knows I love Bath & Body Works.  I shop the semi-annual sale in December and June faithfully.  I actually kind of have a Bath & Body Works store in my house that my family members always want to shop at for free.99.  Like, I have sooooo much product.  My reply to her was that I’m existing on faith and fumes. When she asked me that question, I had a total of -$4 in my bank account.  Well in the one bank account that I don’t touch. And that’s embarrassing.  But it’s factual.  I WAS DRAINED.  Financially, spiritually, and emotionally.  Just tired. I applied for a retreat at the end of October.  They told me it usually takes months to be able to go.  The retreat is free, but you have get yourself there and back home.  And it’s in Utah. Right before the Bath & Body Works sale, I got the call that they had room for me to go to the retreat the following week.  I said “yes” with joy and went to book my airline ticket.  You may wonder how I was going to get to this retreat since I said I didn’t have any money. Remember my failed wedding debacle in “I Said Yes to the Dress”?  I had purchased non-refundable airline tickets for myself and the guy.  NON-REFUNDABLE.  Actually, my mom purchased them with the caveat that I would pay her back before said honeymoon but that’s a whole different blog.  Although the airline wouldn’t refund the money, they said I would have the credit in my name until mid-January 2020.  I considered that lost money, because although I could fly somewhere for free, I wouldn’t have money for hotel…food…anything.  My finances were TIGHT. So, this was an on-time opening at the resort.  I went to book my airline ticket.  I had enough credit to pay for my flight to Utah.  I would only owe $4 for the flight.  I was pumped because I had $50 in that bank account that I don’t touch.  Then she said, they had a $50 fee, because I booked the ticket through a third-party vendor initially.  Even though I only had $50 total to my name, I gave her the card number, and the charge went through.  Faith and fumes ya’ll. That’s how I ended up with my account being in the negative.  But when you’re desperate, and sick and tired of being sick and tired, you’ll do anything.  I also debated going away for a week because my finances are in turmoil.  I can’t afford a week off from work.  If I don’t work, I don’t eat.  But I couldn’t afford not to go.  I had been praying for change and breakthrough.  God was pushing me to go.  Faith and fumes. My days away were life changing.  And freeing and everything I needed.  I’m back, and I’m rejuvenated.  I feel purpose.  I feel peace.  The fumes have dissipated because I’ve been filled, and I’m just left with faith.  #wepreach

Ruth Wakefield was in a hurry one day.  She was known for making amazing chocolate butter drop cookies.  The recipe was not one that could be completed in a hurry really, because chocolate squares had to be melted.  After melting the squares, she would then have to pour the melted chocolate into the batter before baking the cookies. Ruth had to make a choice.  She decided to just break the chocolate squares in chunks and place them into the batter.  Hot is hot, so the chocolate would melt on its own accord.  She was wrong.  When she pulled the cookies out of the oven, the chocolate remained in its chunks.  Before she threw the ruined batch of cookies out, she took one and tasted it.  It was delicious! Ruth and her husband owned the Toll House Inn, a restaurant in Whitman, Massachusetts.  Her new cookies with the chocolate chunks became famous.  She was buying so much chocolate that the Nestle candy company investigated to see why she needed so many chocolate bars.  After talking to Ruth, they agreed to cut lines in the bars to make them easier to break. As time passed, they decided to make the process even easier and created chocolate chips…specifically for Ruth to use in making her famous cookies.  The cookies that were the result of a rush.  The cookies that were a result of an improvisation.  Good thing Ruth didn’t throw in the towel when her cookies didn’t look the way that she thought they would.  Good thing she took the time to taste them. So much baking goes on during the holiday season.  I use Nestle’s Toll House chocolate chips often and never even thought to question how they came to be.  I just eat them joyfully.  How different would the holiday season be without chocolate chip cookies?  How different would my entire snacking life be without those delicious morsels? I have had to learn that some of the accidents, or even things that I know are wrong, have beautiful endings.  Broken chocolate has blessed my life on many occasions.  It’s easy to let the broken parts of us rule.  The difficult decision is to pick up the things that we think are broken.  If we taste them, we may discover an unexpected sweetness and delicious reward.  #wepreach  #ruthwakefield

I didn’t want to put a Christmas tree in my house, because I have a cat now.  Fitz loves anything that dangles.  And he loves to climb.  He climbs up his cat tower.  He leaps onto my table and couches.  He bats the cords on the blinds to watch them swing.  Christmas trees are great for climbing, and they have all of the dangling objects.  Nope…no Christmas tree this year. We have the tendency to put people in a box.  Again, when I say we, I’m talking about me.  I often think people don’t have the capacity to change.  I don’t expect much from people or of people.  I’m guarded. Recently, my thinking has been challenged.  If people are incapable of change, what does that say about my God?  I say that God can do ANYTHING.  Then I hold people in bondage to who they are right now.  That’s not fair. While I know that I have to be wise and use common sense, I also have to allow room for God to move.  Really my issue wasn’t about everybody else.  It was about me.  I was struggling with God being able to change me. This blog has helped me to see myself in a new light.  It’s shined a light on my true relationship with God.  And as you’ve heard more than once, I don’t like what I see.  The good news is there is room for growth and change for me.  There is room for growth and change for you too.  2019 has been a phenomenal year for me.  I didn’t get my debts cancelled.  Nobody came and fixed everything that’s wrong with my house.  AWWW SHUCKS.  Literally, as I was typing this, I got revelation.  (That may be too churchy for you, but it’s true!)  My debts WERE cancelled.  I DID receive a complete home renovation.  Jesus did that for me when He died on Calvary. Even though I’ve been saved a long time, I’m honestly just now realizing what a gift was given to me.  I’ve had debt cancellation written on my prayer board for months, and I’m just realizing that He answered that prayer a long time ago.  I just wanted my bill collectors to stop calling.  He wanted me to realize He took care of my debts a long time ago. Of course, I realize that I need to be a better manager of the money that He has given me.  But I also realize that I need to stop putting him in these tiny boxes.  He’s bigger than I can comprehend.  He reaches farther than I can see.  If He’s doing that for me, I can’t say He’s not doing it for others. As I sit and type this blog, the Christmas tree has been up for about 16 hours.  Fitz hasn’t touched an ornament yet.  He’s unfazed by it.  You already know the preconceived notions that I had about his behavior.  I wouldn’t have been able to experience the beauty of the tree if I let my wrong thinking restrain me.  Take God and people (and Fitz and my Christmas tree) out of the box.  #wepreach

I can’t remember if I shared this before, but I have visual perception issues.  I’m using fancy words to tell you that what I see in the mirror is not what I see in pictures.  In the mirror, I’m not bad looking.  I love my body shape, and I’m cute in the face.  But baby, when I see pictures of myself, I get slapped back into reality. And that’s a curse, because I love pictures.  I like documenting my life in film (or digitally nowadays).  Looking back at my life gives me joy.  I like seeing young Sareta in her 20’s with her friends.  Or even elementary school sassy pants me. I showed my sister-in-law the picture attached to this blog, and she said it was beautiful.  I pointed out my fat arm and just my overall fatness.  I let her know that it was alright but all I could see was my fat arm when I pulled the picture out of the envelope.  You can’t see my full arm because I cropped some of the picture. (Don’t judge me…judge your mama). She asked me if I was being fumble (fake + humble = fumble).  Or she may have said fodest (fake + modest = fodest), but I got where she was coming from. I explained that I had seen another lady’s picture before I pulled mine out.  Her picture was GORGEOUS!  So, I was excited to see what magic the photographer created.  And, I was initially disappointed.  I told ya’ll I got issues.  I had to say “thank you” when the picture was complimented without the extra commentary on my flaws. If you’ve read “Little Eye,” you know that I’m excellent at pointing out my flaws.  I don’t need any help.  Now that people know I have one eye that’s smaller than the other, they can’t help but to search for it in any picture.  LOL.  But I’m not excellent at searching for everything that’s right about me. So, I had to look at all the great aspects of the picture.  My eyebrows look really good.  Smile is on point.  You can see my mole on my cheek.  When I do my makeup, you don’t see the mole.  And, I like my mole.  I just look happy.  And at peace.  That’s what makes it a great picture. My initial reaction was a fumble in the true meaning of the word.  I’m working to retrain my mind.  To appreciate each moment as it is.  Not as I thought it should be or even as I wanted it to be.  I hope you’re able to do the same.  #wepreach

Sometimes a song that I haven’t thought of in forever will pop into my head.  Am I the only person that happens to?  I was traveling back home, and Shekinah Glory Ministry’s song, “Yes,” began to play in a loop in my mind.  If you’ve never heard it, go to YouTube and play it. Spoiler alert:  The choir’s only line is “yes.”  I take that back.  At times, they do echo the soloist.  The soloist does ad lib throughout the song, but she spends a lot of time saying “yes” as well.  Some of her lines were really permeating to me.  For instance, “Will your heart and soul say yes?  Will your spirit still say yes?  If I told you what I really need from thee, would your heart and soul say yes?” I’ve talked to you often about not liking to hear “no,” but I haven’t told you how freeing my “yes” has been.  I’m grateful for God’s grace.  Every time I say “yes,” it’s been a game changer for me.  Really, a life changer.  I spend so much time talking about my struggle that I downplay the relief I get when I put my entire life in his hands. I think I focus on my struggles because life is challenging for me, and I don’t really hear other Christians tell my struggle in a public platform.  I mean, preachers discuss struggles, but we tend to put them on a pedestal.  They aren’t real people to us.  We think their salvation sets them apart or something.  But guess what?  The same salvation that sets them apart sets us apart.  I digress.  Back to my “yes.” I’m in a season of absolute “yes.”  And that means that I’m experiencing peace I haven’t encountered before.  Ya’ll know it’s HARD for me to let go of my will and my way.  Even when it’s killing me.  So, to be in place where I can tell God “yes” with joy has been liberating.  My prayer for everyone that reads this today is that your heart and soul will say “yes” to God. #wepreach

I hadn’t flown in the last 8 years. So much has changed since I was a frequent flier. First, let’s talk about security. Maybe we were on a red alert day, but I had a tough time getting through. Since the last time that I flew, they have implemented the total body scanners. I got in the scanner and assumed the position…feet spread wide and hands in the air. I came out, and the lady said I needed to go through again. She instructed me to pull my pants all the way up to my crotch and really spread my legs apart. Side bar: I’ve lost some weight recently, and my pants are much looser. I did as instructed and was scanned again. It still didn’t look right. She wanted to know what the band right under my bra was. That would be the pants that you told me to pull up ma’am. They let me through, but it wasn’t over. As I was sitting at my gate, I noticed two men wheeling a cart with a sign on it. The sign said that you could be searched at anytime. They wheeled the cart to my gate. I boarded in a later group. As I went to board the plane, the men asked to check my bag. Remember that I haven’t flown in years. It seemed weird to me but whatever. I opened my bag, and they told me I was good to go. The man behind me commented that he had never seen that before. It took a lot, but I got on the plane. I was checked and rechecked and checked again. The plane took off, and it was smooth sailing until that turbulence hit. I’m talking about the kind of turbulence that makes your stomach drop. Ummmmm….I wasn’t prepared for that. Eventually things calmed, and I made it to my destination. But it was quite a ride. God has been checking and rechecking and checking me lately. I have been listening and being obedient… for the most part. He knew what the plane ride was going to be like, and He wanted me to be prepared. My family recently got some news that made my stomach drop. It was unexpected turbulence. So please lift my family members up in prayer anytime you think about it. They’ll make it their destination, but God knows it’s a horrible, unsettling, disturbing, and bumpy ride. #wepreach

Life happens.  That’s generally what I say when I’m inconvenienced, or things don’t go my way.  I rarely say that when I’m getting everything that I want and exactly how I want it.  In those moments, I’m blessed and highly favored.  But that’s still just instances of life happening. As long as I’m alive, and as long as you’re alive, life will happen.  Unfortunately, I have neglected one of the key elements of being prepared to deal with life-the good AND the bad.  I’m not setting aside a specific time, or place, to pray. I think, for many Christians, we deem our drive-by prayers to be sufficient.  After all, we still have clothes on our backs, a roof over our heads, our kids act alright.  We have food in our bellies (let’s face it most of us have an abundance of food).  We have jobs (we may not like them, but they are keeping us).  And we have entertainment to distract us from any issues.  Cell phones, Hulu, Netflix, gaming systems, concerts…you get the picture. But that’s not sufficient.  God is dealing with me.  He’s pressing me.  He wants more.  He wants ALL of me.  Just looking at my life…the way I handle issues…the way I avoid intimacy with Him…you can tell that’s a big ask. When I watched the movie “War Room,” I was pumped.  Baby, I decreed and declared that when I got a house, I would have a war room.  A war room is a space dedicated to prayer.  A place to meditate on God’s word.  A place to make requests known to Him.  But I think, more importantly, a war room is a place to have intimate connection with God.  I sing the song “Make Room” by Jonathan McReynolds constantly, but I’m slacking on actually making room for God to get to me every day.  I have come a long way, but He wants so much more out of me.  I’m sure ya’ll get sick of me saying it because I get sick of repeating myself, but God is convicting me. So, I placed a dry erase board in my closet to become more intentional about my connection to God.  I wrote names on the board of people that I felt led to pray for.  I moseyed on into the closet every morning for about three days and had focused time with God.  That was a couple of months ago.  Don’t get me wrong. I have frequent quick bursts of prayer to God throughout my day.  But special dedicated time?  Nah. While God’s grace is sufficient, my lack of a consistent prayer life is hurting me.  Relationships are so much more meaningful when you have consistent communication.  You know someone loves you when they make time talk to you every day.  When they are intentional about maintaining open lines of communication.  When you’re not an afterthought.  When they don’t only call you when “life happens,” and they feel burdened. By the time this post comes out, I should be in the mountains of Utah.  My prayer is that I am intentional about sitting still every day and talking to God.  Pouring my heart out to Him.  But that I’m also equally as intentional about listening to His responses to me.  To hearing His voice.  To just being in real fellowship with Him. When we spend time in our war rooms, we are ready for life.  Because life happens.  And we need to have on the full armor of God.  #wepreach

Who would have thought that my friend starting a blog would allow little things to start convicting me the way they are.  God, that’s who!  So yesterday after work, my family and I came home  and cleaned up the house.  This seems like such a mundane thing, but it allowed me to have a stress free “yes” moment today.  Keeping a clean house allows for a stress free yes.  Recently a good friend of ours experienced a medical emergency.  This emergency allowed God to show so many people His miraculous work first hand, and thanks be to God, her family member is alive and doing well!  Of course, I told her to let me know if there was anything we could do for them. I checked in with her frequently to see what I could do.   Today, she asked if we could watch one of her children.   No matter what my house looked like, the answer would have been “yes” but having a clean house made it a stress free “yes.” This got me to thinking. How often do we say “yes” and then have so much stress to endure due to saying “yes?”  Or how often do we say “no” due to knowing how much stress a “yes” would create.   This is not what God wants for us!  I bet that my friend was able to say “yes” stress free to so much due to having a clean house and keeping things in order. That allowed her to just focus on what was most important and not have a cluttered mind thinking about the “mess” at home that would now be on display for all to see.   I think the same goes for our spiritual life. If we keep a pretty clean spiritual house and stay prayed up and in the Word ,then when trouble comes or when God directs us to do something, we can have a stress free “yes.”  Often times, we use the excuse of “my house isn’t clean enough for me to invite that family over for dinner.” And if we just took 10 minutes a day to clean our house, to nourish our minds, and dive into God’s  Word, we could give a stress free “yes.” And who knows what a blessing that could be! #wepreach

Happy Monday folks!  This is your Sunday sermon recap from December 8, 2019.  Pastor came from II Corinthians 12:7-10.  I actually wrote a blog about these verses called “Thorn in My Flesh.”  You can scroll over and check it out in your spare time. The thing I love about the Word of God is that it can hit you in a fresh way every time you hear it.  Sunday was no exception.  Pastor discussed Paul’s dilemma.  The irritant that would not go away.  Paul prayed three times in one session for God to remove the irritant.  God told him “no.” God responds that His grace is sufficient for Paul.  That God’s strength is made perfect in Paul’s weakness.  God’s “no” still stands.  It didn’t waver.  No means no means no.  Have I shared with you that I don’t like hearing “no?”  Okay, just making sure that we’re all on the same page. So, naturally I had an issue with hearing God tell Paul “no.”  After all, Paul is just asking for relief from something that’s hurting him.  The Bible doesn’t specifically say what’s irritating Paul.  It could be a physical issue like arthritis, or it could be a person.  You know, someone like you or me. Aren’t we supposed to make our requests known to God?  Isn’t He a Way Maker, Miracle Worker, Promise Keeper, Light in the Darkness?  Isn’t He the Rose of Sharon, Lily in the Valley, Bright and Morning Star?  Isn’t He my God? So why would He say “no” to a reasonable request?  My pastor reminded me that Paul was not the only Biblical figure who had a reasonable request but was told “no.”  Anybody know about Jesus? When Jesus was in the garden of Gethsemane (I had to look up the proper spelling because it is NOT spelled the way that it sounds), He prayed to God to not have to die on Calvary’s cross for all of humanity.  Jesus acknowledged that He was willing to do whatever God asked of Him, but He still asked that this bitter cup be removed.  He didn’t just pray this prayer once.  He asked three times.  And every time, He said that He was willing to follow God’s plan. Listen, I had never thought about this before.  I struggle with “no,” and I’m a hot mess.  Even when I think I’m walking out this Christian life decently, I’m messing it up.  And here Jesus is…perfect, sinless, without spot or wrinkle…and God tells Him “no.” Jesus didn’t argue or act a fool.  He wasn’t rebellious.  He didn’t come up with an alternative plan for the salvation of the world.  He followed God when He got a “no.”  And I’m so grateful for that “no.”  It was a very necessary “no.” Sunday’s sermon has truly made me appreciative of every necessary “no.”  Even when life is hurting me, irritating me, and just down right causing me pain.  God gets glory every time I stay in His will.  Some “no’s” are necessary to see if I’ll trust Him with all of me.  It is when I am weak that God is strong.  #wepreach

This has been quite a week.  I may have mentioned before that I do contract therapy.  That means that if I don’t work, I don’t eat.  I was afforded an opportunity that requires me to miss a week of work.  And it didn’t come at a very convenient time.  I already work less days in the month of December because of Christmas and New Year’s.  I struggled, but I decided to skip out on work.  I can’t afford to not work, but I also can’t afford to miss this opportunity. With all that in mind, I realized that I had a doctor’s appointment on this past Tuesday.  Even though I didn’t want to miss any work this week, I decided to keep the appointment.  I arrived at the doctor’s office to be told that I wasn’t on the schedule that day.  My actual appointment was on Thursday. I was irritated, but I shook it off.  I was going to go back on Thursday and miss more work.  Just a small hiccup.  Until I returned to the office on Thursday.  And the lady told me my appointment was not on Thursday.  It was on December 19th.  I can’t lie.  I got mad.  I didn’t cuss her out, but the Christ in me was NOT shining.  Then I remembered a sermon that I had just heard Jamal Bryant preach that morning.  (I’ve reached the stage in life where I listen to sermons while I get dressed in the morning…don’t judge me…judge your mama…LOL). He told the story of Westside Baptist Church in Beatrice, Nebraska.  On March 1, 1950, all 15 members of the choir were late to choir rehearsal for varying reasons.  Some just lost track of time.  This was atypical because even the choir director was late, and she was a stickler for prompt arrivals.  Although rehearsal started at 7:30, everyone was usually there by 7:25. One choir member lived directly across the street from the church.  As she opened the door to walk across the street, the entire church blew up.  It was a natural gas explosion.  Debris was everywhere.  Pages from hymnals dropped from the sky like snow.  It was 7:27 p.m.  Every choir member was late.  And it spared all of their lives. This reminded me to chill out.  I don’t know why things happened the way they did for me this past week, but I do know God has a plan.  I get so annoyed when my schedule is thrown off.  When people seem to be flippant about my distress.  But I don’t have time or room to be overly concerned about my mis scheduled appointment.  The annoyances may be God’s way of keeping me out of some dangerous situations.  He may have been moving me away from work to keep me from ill intentions that I can’t see, or it may have just been a bump to see how I would respond to nonchalant attitudes.  I may never know the true reason, but I am certain that it all works out for my good.  The bumps in life will work out for your good too.  #wepreach

How do people do life without cousins?  It’s a foreign concept to me.  As much as they get on my nerves sometimes, I love them.  And I feel like they’re very necessary. I have hundreds of cousins.  That’s not an exaggeration.  Between my mother, father, and stepfather, the numbers add up quickly.  I’m undoubtedly in more day to day contact with my cousins from my mother’s side of the family.  Someone asked me and Bible Study Cousin if we were first cousins, and she said “yes.”  We’re not.  We’re second cousins but in my family that doesn’t matter.  A cousin is a cousin is a cousin. So why do I think cousins are important?  They keep me grounded.  My entire family keeps me grounded, but my cousins are especially good at giving opinions…whether they are solicited opinions or not.  They make me laugh.  Especially when they get to arguing in our group chat.  And they keep me company.  Even when I want to be cut off from the world. I keep getting the message that I don’t need to do life alone.  Doing life alone gets more tempting to me as I age.  It’s hard enough to deal with my own life issues.  But then I’m reminded that I need people in order to survive. The Central Arkansas chapter of the family does a great job of doing life together.  We’re adding two new members in 2020.  One cousin is welcoming a little baby in the spring.  Another cousin will start his freshman year at the University of Central Arkansas in the fall of 2020. (Go Bears!!!!)  We don’t have perfect relationships with each other, but they’re perfect for the season that we’re in.  We pray for each other, argue with one another, laugh at each other, eat with each other, talk about each other, and then whoop you if you say something about one of us.  Because we ride for each other.  And I think that’s a beautiful thing.  #wepreach

Some years ago, I established a new tradition in my immediate family.  We were all gathered to celebrate my mother’s birthday.  I challenged my mom to tell us something about herself that we didn’t already know.  I then challenged everyone else at the table to do the same thing.  I coined them “fun facts.” We can’t ever fully know someone else.  Everyone has secret thoughts or desires that they don’t necessarily share with others.  It doesn’t even have to be anything deep.  Recently, my cousin shared that at one point in her life she desired to be a professional clown.  And my grandma bought her a kit to help her live out her dream.  Ultimately, she decided that professional clown life wasn’t for her.  If that doesn’t qualify as a fun fact, I don’t know what does. Let’s see if I can conjure up some fun facts about myself.  Really anything I tell you would be a fun fact because you don’t know me very well.  Hmmmm..I love to mix vanilla ice cream with Frosted Flakes.  Best snack/dessert in life.  I’m afraid of heights because I’m terribly clumsy.  I fell down some steps and off a stage within a day of each other.  Oh yeah….I love to read while I’m taking a bath. Fun facts abound.  They are a great way to probe deeper in relationships with people you’ve known your whole life.  Bible Study Brother declared that chocolate ice cream was his favorite.  The only problem with his fun fact statement was that I had never in life heard or seen him order chocolate ice cream.  I swear he does it now just because I raise my eyebrows every time dessert ordering occurs…LOL. Is your relationship with Christ a fun fact or just matter of fact?  I must admit that I don’t loudly proclaim that I’m a child of the King everywhere I go.  I suppose that’s because I want my lifestyle to just be a testament to my love for Christ.  Don’t get it twisted.  My relationship with Christ is more than just a fun fact.  It’s matter of fact.  #wepreach

Thanksgiving has passed us by, and Christmas is quickly approaching.  When I was a child, this time of year was magical.  I looked forward to all the sweet treats that would be baked.  I enjoyed watching my family play cards and joke with one another. Unfortunately, with age, the holiday season lost some of its sheen.  Sweet treats were still being put into the oven.  The family continued to gather to fellowship.  But it wasn’t the same for me. Maybe it’s because we’ve lost so many family members over the years.  When we gather together, it’s a reminder that we’re not really whole.  Maybe it’s because it’s so routine for my family to see one another.  We don’t need a funeral to fellowship.  I could say I’m making chicken spaghetti for dinner and invite one cousin, and six will show up.  The ones that didn’t come would be mad they didn’t get invited…LOL.  Maybe it’s because I have issues that I need to deal with on my own. I know I’m not alone.  There are millions of people who just struggle through the holiday season.  They have lost their spark.  They can’t find their joy. We had Winter Refresh revival at church this week.  My pastor didn’t want us to just be home for the holidays.  He wanted us to be WHOLE for the holidays.  That can seem like a tall order.  Unless you know my God. Listen, I can’t lie.  It’s only been within the past few months that I’ve done a 180 with my relationship with God.  I believed in God, but I didn’t believe big.  I put Him in a box and didn’t really set my sights on miracles.  Then I got desperate and started to put ALL my faith and trust in Him.  And He’s proven to be bigger than I could have ever imagined. I got a phone call this week that I know changed the course of my life.  It was confirmation that God wants me to be WHOLE…not just for the holidays but for my entire life.  Like I told my cousin earlier, I’m existing on faith and fumes at this point.  I’m praying and believing God that whoever reads this blog will receive their miracle this holiday season.  I’m trusting that God will make you whole right now and continue to keep you.  #wepreach

Anyone that really knows me, knows that I don’t do scary movies.  I’m a big baby.  A scaredy cat, if you will.  You probably need a frame of reference so that you know what I mean when I say scary movies. Hmmm…”The Sixth Sense” was too much for me.  “Seven.”  “Pet Cemetery” was not even an option.  There is something about the music.  The suspense.  Waiting for the murderer/psycho/villain to attack.  NO THANK YOU! It might surprise you that, in my younger years, I tried to watch scary movies.  Back in the day, it was what groups of teenagers did.  We might be at a sleepover or going to see the movie in theatres.  I remember going to see “The Ring” with two friends.  I spent most of the movie covering my eyes and asking them what was happening. One day, my bestie dropped a big fact on me.  She said, “For somebody that don’t like scary movies, you sure do the scariest stuff in real life.” Oooooooooo weeeeeeeeeee!  (Do ya’ll have friends like that?  If not, you need to get some.)  I’ve said it often in these blogs that I’m disobedient.  I do stupid stuff, but I always make sure that somebody with sense knows where I am and what I’m doing.  I’ve mellowed out incredibly with age but quite often she was the one who knew where I was and what I was doing.  And she called me out on it. Honestly, I had never made the connection before she made that statement.  I’m impulsive and struggle with waiting on God’s direction.  I would literally feel fear coursing through my body when scary music came on but have total disconnection when I was walking outside of the will of God.  And that’s a problem. I’m more intentional with my walk with Christ nowadays.  I pray and seek His guidance.  I push through when I’m scared by situations in real life.  I keep my eyes uncovered so I don’t have to rely on others to tell me what’s going on in my own life.  My prayer is that my scary disregard for God is replaced by a love story between He and I that goes down in cinematic history.  #wepreach

Thank God for technology!  I missed service Sunday, because I traveled to Mississippi to celebrate my youngest cousin’s first birthday.  Even though I was excited to see her, I was sad about missing service.  It seems like each sermon has been tailored just for me.  Jesus smiled down on me, and the media team put Sunday’s sermon on Facebook. The sermon was entitled “Working with a No” and came from the first chapter of Luke.  Zacharias, a priest, and his wife, Elizabeth, have wanted a child.  Years have passed, and it has become apparent that Elizabeth is barren.  In those days, it was a disgrace to not have children.  People assumed that you were cursed or that God was displeased with you. The Bible says that this couple is righteous before God.  They not only talk the talk, but they walk the walk.  They don’t just play church.  They’re genuinely great people.  And God has still told them “no.” In the face of their “no,” they don’t become unrighteous and rebellious.  They continued to serve.  Hmmm…this is a personal lesson to me.  When God initially told me “no” and not to get married, I didn’t listen to Him and follow His commands.  I followed my own way.  Eventually I listened to Him, but ya’ll know I didn’t go down without a fight.  Zacharias is performing his duties as a priest when an angel of the Lord, Gabriel, appears to him.  Gabriel lets Zacharias know that God has heard his prayers.  Elizabeth and Zacharias will have a son. What’s the most appropriate way to respond to no’s from God?  Remain faithful.  When God tells me no and I desperately want to hear a “yes.”  When everyone around me seems to only get a “yes.”  That’s easier said than done.  My pastor reminded me that I must love God more than whatever I requested.  Sometimes when we get the thing that was so important to us, we forget the gracious God that provided the thing.  I have to realize that God is more important than any request I may have.  I’m so grateful that God was patient with me and worked with me through my “no” phase. #wepreach

I love behind the scenes information.  Don’t you?  I was all about watching the two-hour Game of Thrones behind the scenes special.  Seeing the actors faces when they read through the scripts of the final season for the first time.  When they realized what was about to happen. So, I’m offering a more behind the scenes glance at the mechanics of this blogging world.  For some reason, people think I create the stories that I tell.  They think I’m a good weaver of tales.  Nope.  It’s my real life. I felt so anxious the first time that I had to push “publish” on my website.  It felt so permanent.  In this day and age, I could decide to switch it back to just a draft but undoubtedly someone would have already screenshot it.  I felt naked and just out there. As time has gone on, I’ve gotten over that.  I don’t hesitate.  I hear what God wants me to say, and I type.  Most often, He gives me a title, and I just start typing.  Generally, the end result is never what I thought it was going to be when I started typing.  He also suggests pictures that fit the blog.  The first time He didn’t give me a picture with the blog, I panicked.  I had to have a picture!!!  I like order and sameness, and He switched it up on me.  Just another reminder that it’s not MY blog.  It’s His.  Every time I sit down and type, He’s talking to me.  And gives me the privilege to share it with you.  Initially, it didn’t feel like a privilege.  It felt like a burden.  Even a punishment.  Because I had no desire to be open and real with everyone.  But ultimately, this blog has blessed me so much!  I feel freer and closer to Him every day. I don’t sit down every day and write a different blog for the next day.  I tend to write in spurts of four or five and then move on to other tasks that keep my life moving.  You know, like work, and trying to maintain a home, and trying to maintain relationships with family and friends, and building an event planning empire, and writing a book, and feeding a cat, and scooping up cat poop, getting to a healthy place (spiritually, physically, emotionally, financially) and shopping (my favorite hobby, past time, lifestyle). I detest the technical side of blogging.  I don’t like the look of the website, but I had to focus on content.  Listen, that’s growth ya’ll.  I’ll perfection something into the ground.  And it wouldn’t ever take flight because I didn’t think it was good enough.  The website will be so pretty one day, but I’m focused on fulfilling His mission. Initially, I would check the traffic numbers on my website daily.  I needed to know that somebody read the blog that day.  I mean I knew my mama was going to read it, but I wanted to see at least 2 visitors everyday.  That meant that my mama read it and pressured at least one of her friends into reading it. I had to stop looking at the numbers though, because it was driving me crazy.  Some days there would 70 and the next day 10.  I had to remind myself that I didn’t start blogging to get numbers.  I started blogging to help that one person that God wanted to reach.  And it might literally just be my mama that needed to know everyday that God loves her.  And God loves her so much that He sent me to remind her of that every day. Thanks for your patience on this behind the scenes tour.  I mean you get behind the scenes access every day, but today was a different kind of access.  I almost forgot to let you know that you can reach me directly at biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com.  You can send me prayer requests or ask me questions about your walk with Christ.  Now look ya’ll.  I’m not a Biblical scholar, but I’ll certainly do my best to point you in the right direction.  #wepreach

I’m single.  Like, I’m single single.  I’m a lady that lives alone with her cat single.  Now that I think about it, this may be the reason that my mom had such a strong aversion to me getting a cat.  She doesn’t want me to be a single cat lady.  She wants grandkids. She’s not the only person that wants me to have kids.  People ask me all the time when I’m going to be a mother.  Or when I’m going to get married.  My response is generally, “You better talk to God about that because I’m waiting too.”  If you read “I Said Yes to the Dress,” then you know that I don’t have a habit of waiting patiently.  I’m impulsive and like to try to take control. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that I’m not going to act right when I get a man.  I mean I’m going to speak life and say that I am going to act right, but God knows my heart.  And I know me. My daddy assumed that my engagement was over because I was waiting until I got married to have sex.  And my fiancé couldn’t hold out, so he left me for another woman.  Ummmmm….clearly, he doesn’t know me.  But God does. I’m a sucker for a fine man.  Listen, I’m saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost, but I have eyes.  And hormones.  And an amazing sense of smell.  And feeling in my hands. Child, Jesus had to convict me and my hormones just now.  He could send me a man but am I truly willing to live out a relationship the way that He intended for me to do it? God brought to mind my social security number.  See, I’m good with a man taking me out to dinner.  Laughing with me.  Talking to me.  Having a great time with me.  We could do that for a month, and I would feel so connected to him.  Most folks wouldn’t judge me if I shared my body with him.  It’s only natural.  But the same folks would think I was crazy if I gave this man my social security number. Your social security number gives people access to your credit.  If you have great credit, you don’t just give your social security number out to anyone.  You protect it.  Some folks get super fancy and have identify theft activated so they are notified if someone tries to use their number to open a new account.  If you have a poor credit score, you’re not as protective ofyour social security number.  You feel there’s no threat.  Your credit is already ruined. My life has shown that I think my credit is already ruined.  Real talk, how many folks are waiting until marriage to be sexually active?  Most of us Christians are being “holy-ish” all the way to the altar.  But isn’t my body supposed to be a living sacrifice?  A holy temple?  So, how did we decide that protecting a credit score is more important than protecting the only body that God gave us?  And when I say “we,” I mean me.  God has been convicting me ya’ll.  I don’t like it, but it’s necessary.  Pray for me.  The challenge will be waiting on a man that will feel comfortable sharing his social security number AND his last name.  #wepreach

The holiday season is upon us.  For many of us that means that we get to participate in fun family traditions.  My family has several traditions that have passed on through the years. I come from a family of givers.  Giving to everyone at Christmas time has become more difficult because our family has steadily increased in number (and size…LOL).  So, some years ago, we placed everyone’s name in a container on Thanksgiving.  You were only responsible for getting a gift for the person’s whose name you pulled.  Fun idea, right? Bible Study Cousin and I also started a tradition where we get a Christmas gift for the whole family.  Sometimes, we would finish the gifts in a single day.  Other times, we would map out time to complete the gifts bit by bit.  When you’re working to bless a lot of folks with a limited budget, you HAVE to get creative and be willing to put some man hours into the job. We also have some not so great traditions in our family.  If I want everyone to know something, I just have to tell one person and the word gets around.  Like I’m not talking about a specific person in my family.  I mean just anyone in my family in general.  Then we play this fun game where everyone acts like they didn’t know.  So just imagine how challenging it is for us to be surprised on Christmas by the person who pulled our name.  Clearly, you must get information about your person’s likes and dislikes.  Although we’re all family, we do tend to gravitate towards certain people.  You may pull someone’s name that you don’t know much about. When asking around about a person’s likes and dislikes, folks can get suspicious.  Did you pull their name?  Did someone in your family pull their name?  And then you want to make sure the RIGHT person pulled your name.  Because even though I come from a family of givers, some folks just pull out the BIG gift giving guns all the time.  Where’s Bev at???? My family may not be like yours.  Undoubtedly, we all have different traditions.  Your family may spend each holiday apart.  That’s a tradition.  You may spend EVERY weekend together.  That’s a tradition.  You may only come together for the big holidays…..and funerals.  That’s a tradition. The great thing about traditions is that they can be started or stopped at any time.  Because not all traditions are good.  On the flip side, not all traditions are bad.  We have the opportunity to create traditions that leave a positive impact.  What traditions are you going to create or destroy this holiday season?  #wepreach

Ya’ll probably get sick of me saying this, but my Pastor has been dropping the unadulterated Word of God.  Sunday’s sermon was no exception.  He preached from the book of Acts, chapter 20.  Acts chapter 20 begins with the story of Paul teaching and preaching to the disciples and others that have gathered.  They fellowshipped and ate and then Paul gets to work.  The teaching is so good that Paul is still going at midnight.  (I’m sure many of us in the black church can relate to loooong services…LOL.) Eutychus is a young man who is there to hear Paul’s teaching.  Unfortunately, this brother is tired.  He seems to have had a long day because the Bible says that he begins to sink into a deep sleep.  Oh…I forgot to mention that he’s sitting in the window while he’s listening to Paul. I’m going to pause for a minute here.  I’m not a night-time person.  I go to bed early.  When the sun goes down, my eyes get heavy.  If we’re taking a long road trip, everyone knows that I’ll drive the early shift.  I recognize my weakness.  If I started to doze while I was sitting in a window on the third floor, I would like to think that I would change my seat. Eutychus does not change his seat.  He goes from sinking into a deep sleep to being overcome by sleep.  And as Paul continues to speak, Eutychus falls from the third story and dies. Before I’m too hard on Eutychus, I must make this story live in my life.  Many of us regularly attend church and are sleeping on the gifts, promises, and goodness of God.  Our bodies are present for the preaching, but our souls are so far from the Lord. And what about the people around him?  Did no one notice when he jerked himself awake several times before the fall that would kill him?  Are we too caught up in us and can’t see the person on the same pew that’s struggling? Paul makes a great choice.  When he sees that Eutychus has fallen, he stops preaching and goes down the stairs.  He falls on Eutychus and embraces him.  And brings Eutychus back in alive.  If that doesn’t tickle your fancy, bless your heart. Paul is not too high and important to see about his brother in Christ.  The people came to hear Paul, but Paul was ever mindful of his mission…to help bring life to people in dead situations.  He didn’t berate Eutychus and tell him he made a stupid decision.  He embraced him.  Paul allowed the Holy Spirit that was within in him to touch and revive someone who was dead. We are living in a de-churched age.  People don’t go to church because they look at the way we live our lives and think, “what’s the point?”  We get so caught up in going to church and programs but not having transformed lives.  We forget that Jesus came to seek and save those who are lost.  He embraced us.  It’s our duty and mission to embrace others so that they can receive the gift that we already have. If you see me and I seem to be dozing in my spiritual life, nudge me.  If I’m sitting in places that are dangerous, guide me to a safer place.  If I fall and die spiritually, don’t berate me.  Embrace me and let the Holy Spirit that dwells in you revive me.  #wepreach

Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever. I Chronicles 16:34 Happy Thanksgiving! 2019 started off horribly and but has become the best year ever. Why is it so great for me? Because I’m starting to step into the woman that God created me to be. Of course, I’m a work in progress just like everyone else. So with that introduction out of the way, I’m going to tell you just some of the things that make my heart smile. God’s grace. I don’t deserve it. Couldn’t earn it. But He gives it over and over again. Tacos. The kind with the homemade tortillas that I don’t have to make. Desserts. Just in general. Sweets make my world sweeter! My Sunday School class. We have open and honest dialogue about God’s word and our real life walk. My cousin that interpreted my dream. Let’s see what 2020 brings. My friends and family that allowed their thankfulness to overflow on this blog. Beaches. Preferably the non-rocky, white sand kind. Floating in water Music. Especially music with a great beat. My body just starts moving on its own. I can’t be contained! All of my family and friends. They are the quintessential example of “when keeping it real goes wrong.” They keep me in check….LOL. Delicious food. I’m redacting my earlier food thankfulness and just being thankful for food in general. Have you ever eaten something that made you sure there was a God? You know I have! Vacations You I couldn’t ever write an extensive list that covers everything I’m thankful for. There is too much. This blog would never end. I’m blessed on top of blessed. And if you ever take time to sit and reflect on God’s goodness in your life, you’ll realize that you are too. There continues to be an empty seat at my family’s table this Thanksgiving, but I’m going into today with a grateful heart. I’m laying all my cares at Jesus’ feet and trusting that His grace that has covered me and carried me so far will continue to be sufficient. Wherever you are today, and no matter how you spend today, know that God loves you! #wepreach

    Every year around this time we come together to be with family, friends, and loved ones. We enjoy eating copious amounts of food, watching football, and shoppping like mad men. This is the time of “Thanksgiving.” The funny thing about this holiday is the fact that, by all accounts, it’s a scheduled time of thanks. Which, as I grow closer to God, seems odd. Do I really need a reminder to be thankful? Has God done so little for me that I somehow can get all of my thanks to Him done in one day? Being continually thankful is hard. I struggle with it. Especially when I’m going through something. I only want to ask God to remove the burden. I just want to receive a blessing without giving thanks for those I’ve already received. If I looked back over my life and could see each blessing God has given me, I’m pretty sure I’d never be able to keep count. When I was asked to do this, I had no idea what I’d talk about. To pick one thing God has done for me is simply impossible, or so I thought. It isn’t a difficult thing to do when I realized what God wanted me to share in this blog post. I am thankful for being able to thank Him for all He’s done for me. The joy I get from just telling Him “thank you” is immeasurable by any metric available to us on earth. It doesn’t allow me to stay down, sad, or upset. It lifts me up above any and all transgressions I could possibly face as I am constantly reminded of how grateful I am. The grace and mercy He bestows upon me with each breath is the truest sense of what a blessing is. It’s a promise kept. It’s an opportunity to serve Him more. It is truly something to be thankful for. #WePreach 

I am grateful for my home. Because I was raised by my grandparents (maternal and paternal), I always prayed to God for my own home and family. In 1987, I thought that God had answered my prayer when I got married after a 2 ½ year courtship. However, in 2005, the marriage ended in divorce and my vision of what my home and family would look like died. I felt like a failure and honestly, I even felt like God had failed me. He knew the desires of my heart and it was all gone. So when God told me to not take anything from the home I had shared with my ex-husband and children, as crazy as it sounded to me and others, I listened. I followed His command to a T.  I had been looking for a home during the divorce process but had not found “the place” I wanted to start my new life. A co-worker told me about an apartment complex near the hospital that might be available. It was a perfect fit! Not only did I get the apartment because of an answered prayer offered up by my then 17 year old son, when I was in doubt, but I also got a discount because of where I was employed…look at God! Once I was approved for the apartment, I immediately began to look for furniture because of course God wouldn’t tell me to leave everything behind and not provide for me, right? Not only did he provide but He showed up and showed out!!! My prayer warrior friend, Verline, went with me to shop for the furniture. I filled out the credit application and the salesperson told me to go pick out what I wanted. I didn’t think anything of it at the time but when my name was called to come back to the office, it was to assure me that I had received enough credit to furnish all but one room in the apartment. Look at God step in and furnish that room through my daughter who was in college at the time. Everything was new!!! But here’s the abundant blessing part; because of hurricane Katrina, the furniture I had originally chosen was not available so they gave me an upgrade!!! Next blessing, my co-workers decided to give me a housewarming and guess what?!…more new stuff!!!  Fast forward to mid-year of 2007, God gave me the opportunity to build a new home. Even with doubt that I wouldn’t be approved to build the home, I went to the bank and filled out the credit application. Of course, I was approved!! The ground was broken on my new home in October 2007 and on April 25, 2008, I signed the papers to close on my new home. It’s been 11 years since I have moved into this home and every day, I thank God. This home has been the meeting place for Bible studies, birthday parties, an engagement party, game nights, Sunday dinners, Top Chef competitions, Easter dinners, and the annual New Year’s Day fish fry. I have my home and family, peace of mind, love and joy. What I thought was failure on my part and abandonment by God was really a blessing. The divorce turned out to be one of the greatest blessings for me because it taught me to fast, pray and follow God’s instructions. I developed a more intimate relationship with God. Sometimes your greatest hurt turns out to be your greatest blessing. #wepreach

Ms. Bible Study Girl and I have been friends for going on two decades now, and I was honored to be included in this series of her blog.  When she first told me the topic, what I’m thankful for, I thought I knew exactly what I was going to write about.  Initially, I was going to write about how thankful I am for our friendship (and I am very thankful for it), but then something happened.  The book fair.  The day started out just like any other day.  Get up. Get ready for work and school. Go to said places.  It was a special day at my children’s school. I had promised my oldest I would come, take her to the book fair, and eat lunch with her.  Her grandmother had given her money to select a book. When I arrived at the school, I intended to let her select a book using the money her grandmother had sent, but God had other plans.  I was running late (it’s the story of my life ask… Sareta ), and when I went to my daughter’s classroom, it was basically her and her friend left.  It turned out the friend’s parent had a program for another one of her kids that had run over so therefore she was running late as well.  This friend had graciously shared her grandparent with my daughter last year during Grandparent’s day. Now my daughter was getting to share her mom (substitute grandparent) while her friend was waiting on her own parent to arrive.  Last year, my daughter took money to go to the book fair and purchase her own book, but her friend’s Grandparent offered to purchase one for her.  I got upset that she didn’t use her money that was sent. God used  book fair day to remind me that not only did He remember last year, but that He also knows the future.  Today was my day to bless her the way her Grandpa had blessed my daughter.  Today, He reminded me to be thankful for unexpected blessings, to relax, and overall just remember that He knows all.  It’s amazing how God can use a simple thing like the book fair to remind us that He is always near and is with us. And for that I am thankful. #wepreach

I should probably start off by saying this is my first time to write a blog entry, so please bear with me. My name is Shelby, and I have known the one and only Sareta Fulcher since 2013. I love that she has started her Bible Study Girl blog series and am so happy to contribute!  When Sareta asked me to do this, I thought a lot about what am I truly thankful for. Yes, I love my family. Yes, I love my job. Yes, I love my house. Yes, I like my closet…. a lot. I am very thankful for all of those things because they do bring some happiness, but the one thing that has stood out in my mind is God’s grace and forgiveness because I do not deserve a thing.  If I am being honest, I do not know a lot of scripture.  I did grow up in church, but was not as active in my teenage years and as an early adult.  The fact that Gods grace and forgiveness is what I am most thankful surprised me too, but a  few years ago when life got hard is when I started to really have a relationship with God.  I completed two bible studies called “God’s Promises When Life is Hard” and “God’s Promises When Life is Difficult”.  Both of these series truly changed my life.  So, when I sit and think about being thankful for Gods grace and forgiveness, it is because I am so incredibly undeserving.  I do not deserve anything God has given me, but His love is so unconditional.  I am not a perfect mother, and He still gave me two beautiful, amazing girls. I am not a perfect wife, and He still sent me a hardworking, loving husband who makes me feel more protected than I ever have in my entire life.  I am not the perfect daughter, and He gave me two parents who taught me more than they will ever know. I am not the perfect friend, but He has blessed me with a group of women who have never left my side.  I have more than I could ever need in my life.  It sounds so cliche, but for the first time in so long, I feel truly content. For a long time, I yearned for nicer things. A nicer house, a nicer car, the nicest clothes and recently all of that doesn’t matter as much to me as it once did. My house has no shiplap and my shoes are out of style, and I can really say I do not care. Maybe it’s the season of Thanksgiving that has made my heart so full, but I like to think it is God’s love that has made His way in and brought me true happiness.  Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!  I hope you feel God’s love and blessings in the same way soon. #wepreach

When challenged with the task of being asked to write about something I’m thankful for, I must admit I struggled to come up with something. Good as God has been to me, and I couldn’t think of one thing I wanted to write about. And Bible Study Girl didn’t make it any better by saying, “You can’t think of NOTHING you’re thankful for?!?!” You see, I’ve reached a point in my life where I try to ask God about all things, and He hadn’t sent me nothing yet. I’m also the girl that when He does, I ask for confirmation over & over & over & over & over again. And guess what, He gives it to me. So what made me go ahead and sit down and write this now? God just used the exact words I’m writing about in a sermon to confirm that I better gone ahead and do what He done told me to do. And I’m scared of Him, so I’m being obedient. LOL. This relationship I now have with Him… I do not take lightly. Why? Because no matter how many times I’ve messed up, strayed away, been foolish, clearly did exactly what He told me not to do, He’s still been there waiting on me to get back in line with what He has called me to do. I’m wayyyyy past my second chance though. I have often scared myself back into submission thinking, “Lord don’t let this be the time you leave me cause I know I’m out here wilding out.” Yet, there He always is waiting on me. Arms open wide when I finally decide to come back to Him. My head hung low with tear stained eyes. So, I thank God for this relationship we have and for not giving up on a wretch like me. He knew when He formed me what this mess right here was gone be, and I am amazed that He still decides to dwell in me and use me to glorify Him. So I want to take this opportunity to thank Him for all the second chances He’s given me in every area of my life. Cause whew chile! I’m a piece of work. And I also want to thank Him in advance, because He and I both know, I’m gone need some more of those second chances. #wepreach

When I take a moment to meditate on what I’m thankful for, it doesn’t take me long to have a list compiled.  I mean a list, list. There is so much that I have to be grateful for, yet I often find myself seeking ways to gain more. Whether it’s financial, educational, spiritual, physical, or emotional. I’m always thinking of ways for increase.  There is a statement that states that “the best things in life are free”. I couldn’t agree more with this statement. But a few million dollars would surely help a sistah live her absolute best life.   There was a point in my life in which I felt I needed to stay busy in order to keep my mind occupied to not deal with my brokenness and grief that I was really experiencing internally. Plus, it helped finance my unnecessary desires of shopping.   I mean I would take on so many responsibilities and projects. I couldn’t tell people “No”. I felt if they’d asked me, then it was an assignment from God. Ha! Know better; do better right?! I worked a lot. Several weeks I’d work 70+ hours….INSANE, I know.  My loved ones would express their concerns about my workload; I would just ignore their concerns and reassure them that I was good until fatigue caught up with me. I became drained, to the point where I’d only want to sleep during any of my spare time.  After quitting one of my jobs and completely learning and being content with telling people “Nah” was one of the best decisions I’ve made thus far. I have become so addicted to relaxation, mediation, peace, quiet, and having more time to spend with my family….in which all are FREE! Life can be hectic especially in today’s society where we don’t feel like we have enough time in a day to get things accomplished. Take time, better yet MAKE TIME to bask in God’s presence and the fullness of the blessings that He grants us daily.  Material possessions are nice, higher education can be rewarding, having the financial freedom to LIVE YO BEST LIFE is grand but without all of that, what are you thankful for? I am thankful for the breath that is in my body, I am thankful for my loving husband, my handsome boys, my caring Mother, considerate Mother-in-love, my wise Papa, my career that gives me the opportunity to serve others, my siblings that are always a call away, and my cousin in love Sareta, for thinking of me and asking me to do this.  This was indeed an assignment from God….discernment is real! Get some.   Remember, God has great pleasure over our prosperity.  He wants us to live the lives that our hearts desire but in His timing.  In the meantime, in between time, stay grateful, faithful, and committed to serving and pleasing HIM.   Be Blessed. #wepreach

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. I Thessalonians 5:16-18 This year has flown by so quickly.  It seems like just yesterday that we were gathered at my mom’s house for her annual New Year’s Day Fish Fry.  Now Thanksgiving is knocking on our front doors. I don’t ever want to get beside myself and think this blog is about me.  It’s not.  It’s all about God, and my journey to be in closer relationship with Him.  It’s about you and your love for Him.  And your acceptance of His love for you. With that in mind, I asked some friends and family (but if you’re my friend, you’re my family so….) if they would be willing to share with you what they’re thankful for this holiday season.  Of all the people that I asked, I only got one “no,” but I have a feeling that you will hear from them at some point. There is so much power in the body of Christ sharing their stories.  Their triumphs and their failures.  It helps us relate to one another.  It helps us to feel bonded and not alone.  On Thanksgiving Day, I will share with you a list of the things that make me swell with gratitude.  Since we all know tomorrow is not promised, I must take this time to publicly thank each person that has contributed.  It’s not easy to lay your heart out there, but I know that God will honor their sacrifice and willingness to share. We’re all in this journey together.  We’re headed to a joint destination.  We might as well get to know some of the people that are going up yonder with us.  #wepreach

We lived on Cross Street for most of my life.  The picture that accompanies this post was taken on the porch of our house on the day that I got baptized.  So many of my memories from my childhood are attached to the house on Cross Street. I learned to drive on that street.  I fought the neighborhood tough girl on my brother’s behalf on that street.  I got ready for prom on that street.  I walked to meet my friend on that street.  I watched my brother relieve himself in the front yard on that street. After my mom and stepfather got divorced, my mom and brother moved into an apartment that was not on that street.  New memories were created, in first an apartment, and later, in the house that my mother built.  But I’ve always held a soft spot in my heart for Cross Street. My stepfather moved out of the house on Cross Street and sold it.  New people came in and renovated.  My brother told me that it looked completely different on the outside.  I drove by to see it, and I was amazed. Some time later, we discovered that a relative of my sister-in-law bought the house on Cross Street.  My brother extended the invitation to me to check out what had been done to our childhood home.  We walked in….and nothing felt the same.  The kitchen was totally remodeled.  Walls stood in places that were previously open.  The home we knew was no more. It made me think about my tendency to romanticize my past.  You know…the old me.  Back when life was more fun.  And though those years have sweet moments, they’re best left in the past.  I’ve grown and moved on to even sweeter moments.  The old place just doesn’t fit me anymore.  #wepreach

Brace yourself.  I’m going to use a curse word.  You ready to hear it????  Well, I warned you…here it goes.  Sacrifice.  LOL.  We may not consciously think that sacrifice is a curse word, but I believe our lifestyles betray our true thoughts on this concept. The Bible says that we are to present our bodies as a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God.  After all, that’s our reasonable service.  Christ died so that we can live.  So, it’s only reasonable that we give all of ourselves back to Him.  Or is it unreasonable? I’m the first one to admit that I fumble the ball on the sacrifice concept.  I work hard.  I’ve talked to toddlers and preschoolers all day (honestly, mostly to myself because they operate on their own agenda).  On my way home, I want quiet.  No talking, just quiet.  There is nothing wrong with needing to unwind, but I often ignore the pull or tug by God to call someone that needs to be checked on. Or, I’ll overbook myself.  I mean, I’m engaged in activities that are building up the kingdom.  So running from Bible study, to church meetings, to regular service and not having proper time management is okay, right?  It’s not.  I must sacrifice MY schedule and offer it over to God.  I need to present my body, my plans, my entire being to Him daily.  Not just when it’s convenient for me. God is not a warden.  He wants us to present our bodies to Him because He knows what He created us to be.  When we try to go our own way, we miss the mark.  We get frustrated.  We get overworked.  We get burnt out.  In sacrificing our plans, we give Him free reign to work out His intended end for us.  When I look at it like that, it’s not that much of a sacrifice for me.  #wepreach

Jeremiah 18 recounts the tale of just one of the many instances that God spoke to Jeremiah, a prophet.  God tells Jeremiah to go down to the potter’s house, and there Jeremiah will hear God’s words.  An interesting thing happens.  Jeremiah goes to the potter’s house and watches him in action.  The potter was making something at the wheel.  Upon closer inspection, Jeremiah could see that it was a vessel.  Ummmmm…something looks off.  The vessel is marred!  No problem for the potter.  The potter takes the clay in his hands and made it into a different vessel.  A vessel that was more suitable. During this entire time, Jeremiah and the potter never exchange a word.  But didn’t God say that Jeremiah would hear from Him?  It is only after the potter is finished with his work that the Lord speaks.  He says, ”O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter?  Look, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel!” God takes dirt, something that’s worthless and no good, and creates masterpieces.  In case you didn’t know, we are the dirt.  And as low and unworthy as we are, He can see the finished work when He separates us from  the other dirt. Will we stumble? Yes!  We get nicks in our vessels.  We damage our reputations.  We step out of line.  But we’re still in His hands.  And if we remain in His hands, He can continue to work on us. #wepreach

FEAR=False Evidence Appearing Real.  This acronym came to me last night, and I knew I needed to write about it.  I was up late loading tables and baby shower supplies into my car, so I didn’t get around to it.  Then, I heard a man use the acronym tonight while I was debating about investing in my future. To some, that’s a coincidence.  For me, that was a God moment.  He had just told me last night to let go of fear.  I’m deciding to trust Him.  With bad credit.  With limited funds.  With no idea how to get it done.  I’m trusting Him. Fear is a very real thing for many of us.  It holds us back from moving to that next level.  It keeps us contained in the areas that we feel are “safe.”  Only recently have I let go and realized that the safest place to be is in the will of God. This reminds of the disciples being on the boat with Jesus with a storm raging around them.  This situation is recorded in Mark 4.  Waves began to beat on the boat.  The disciples were panicked.  They looked for Jesus, and there He was.  Asleep on the pillow. The crazy thing is that before they got on the boat, Jesus said, “Let us cross over to the other side.”  Which is essentially a guarantee that everyone is going to make it there.  But in moments of turmoil, our guarantees from Him are easily forgotten. Jesus wakes up and rebukes the wind, and says to the sea, “Peace, be still!”  The elements instantly obeyed their master.  He turns to his disciples, the same men that have been following Him and listening to His teachings, and says, “Why are you so fearful?  How is it that you have no faith?” That is what Jesus is saying to me today.  And may I suggest that he’s saying it to you too?  If the winds and the waves obey Him, what’s a bad credit score?  What is limited funds?  He’s a limitless God.  I’m choosing to trust Him instead of all the false evidence around.  #wepreach

Can you hear it?  Right there!  Are you listening?  You still can’t hear it?  Settle down.  Breathe.  And listen.  There it is.  It’s not shouting.  It’s still…it’s small…it’s the voice of God. Elijah is a prophet in the Bible.  The book of I Kings, chapter 19 records Elijah’s escape from Jezebel.  Jezebel was the queen of Israel at that time.  She was angry with Elijah.  In the previous chapter, Elijah had shown the people of Israel that there was only one true God.  All of Jezebel’s prophets were executed by Elijah after their showdown.  Jezebel wanted revenge.  She wanted Elijah’s life. So, the man of God, who had just witnessed the fire of the Lord consume a burnt sacrifice, wood, stones, dust, AND water in the trench, ran.  He ran into the wilderness, sat under a broom tree, and prayed to God that he might die.  An angel touched him and gave him food and water.  Elijah rested.  The angel of the Lord came a second time.  The angel told Elijah to get up and eat.  He acknowledged that the journey was too great for Elijah. After eating that meal, Elijah went in the strength of that food for FORTY DAYS and FORTY NIGHTS.  But he wasn’t headed back to Israel.  He didn’t head back to his assignment.  He went into a cave. God was a gentleman.  He didn’t scream.  He asked Elijah, “What are you doing here?”  So, Elijah shares with God his frustrations.  He talks about how zealous he has been for God.  He reminds God that even though the children of Israel forgot how awesome God is, he hadn’t turned his back on God.  Then he shares his feelings of being alone and his concern about Jezebel wanting to take his life. God responds by showing Elijah an awesome display.  The Bible says that the Lord passed by and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks into pieces before the Lord.  After the wind, there is a mighty earthquake.  After the earthquake, there is fire.  But the Lord was not IN any of those displays.  He shows back up as a still small voice and says, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” Ultimately, Elijah finally responds to God’s voice.  He recognizes God’s care and follows God’s instructions again.  God blessed him with Elisha.  He reassures Elijah that he is not the only believer in Israel.  God heard every concern that Elijah had and responded to his needs.  Elijah’s deliverance didn’t come in a shout.  It came when he was able to heed to a still small voice.  #wepreach

Over a month ago, a friend sent me picture of her kids after a Color Run. It jogged my memory (like my pun? LOL) that I had signed up for the Foam Glow 5k way back in June of this year. I was feeling so optimistic about my health journey at the time that I registered. However, I had settled back into eating and watching TV probably a week after that optimistic feeling hit. My last 5k experience at the Bubble Run almost took me out. You know they have the couch to 5k app? It helps get you from no exercise to being able to complete a 5k. Each week the exercises intensify. Unfortunately leading up to the Bubble Run, I didn’t work out AT ALL beforehand. I literally went from eating and watching TV on my couch to participating in the race. If I only I had been wise and participated in the training. We completed the race. And it was actually fun, but I just knew that any second I was going to die. So the picture from my friend propelled me into action. I could have a different outcome this time. Ya’ll know exercise is not my preferred activity, but I’ve been trying to live better and be better. I’m exercising my faith….and my body. For four weeks, I committed to an hour on the treadmill at least 4 days a week. I didn’t follow a fancy program. I just walked. And watched the movies in the Cardio Cinema to pass the time. Foam Glow race day arrived, and I felt ready. I put my tattoo on my face and ran to Tomica’s car. We arrived at the race. I started walking….and it wasn’t bad. I then encountered my nemesis. A section that was cordoned off that made you loop and walk up two step inclines. Nobody else was doing it, but I wanted to slay this giant. It was the part that I had been dreading the most. I walked up the first incline as fast as I possibly could. And I didn’t die. When I reached the top, I stopped to catch my breath. A woman that was walking behind me with her husband said, “Don’t stop. We were following you.” What???? Girrrrrl, ya’ll were using me to set your pace????? Now if that ain’t a testimony I don’t know what is. We finished the race. We danced in the foam party. We had a great night. The thing I dreaded really just showed me how far I had come since the last time I faced that giant. Stay in the Word. Keep praying. Go to church. Fellowship with other believers and non believers. Because the race that we’re running can actually be fun. We don’t always have to feel like we’re dying. We are already winners, and life is so much better when we walk like the race is won. #wepreach

There are so many different gifts and talents in the body of Christ. Singers, actors, prayer warriors, musicians, writers, poets, seamstresses, gymnasts, crafters, carpenters, doctors, teachers, ministers, and ushers to name a few. Some people are probably scratching their heads at that list. We are used to talking about the gifts listed in 1 Corinthians 12…the gifts of healing by the same Spirit, the working of miracles, the gift of prophecy, the gift of discerning of spirits, the gift of tongues, the gift of interpretation of tongues. However, this is not a list of the only gifts that we can possess from God. Our professions are an extension of our gifting. Although, weight lifting is not listed in I Corinthians 12, this talent can be used for God’s glory. How? Anytime one of God’s children is in a place, the floor is open for you to show Christ to others. When I pose questions to ya’ll, I’m really talking to myself. I’m evaluating where I stand and how I measure up in God’s eyes. So, how are you using the talents that God has given you? That’s not to say that you have to use blessing oil for every patient that comes to your office if you’re a doctor. But it should make you think, “Am I praying for each patient that I touch today?” If you’re a waitress, are you taking a genuine interest in those people you come in contact with or is it just another day? If you’re a carpenter, are you completing your work with a spirit of excellence and having a right attitude with your clientele? If you’re a master beautician, are you creating an atmosphere ripe for gossip or glory? God has given us our talents to affect the world in a positive way. He wants us to be the change agents. It shouldn’t be the other way around. And then there are those who say they don’t have talents. That’s just not true. Your talents may not be talents that people can sit back and watch. You may have the gift of prayer, but you don’t know because you haven’t been doing it… A talent search is in progress. #wepreach

In working with preschoolers, I spend a little time admonishing them to color in the lines. Inevitably, they will say “No scribble scrabbling?” And I’ll reiterate that they need to give it their best shot. Why do we care if they color in the lines? It’s just a visual sign that they understand the concept of boundaries. Boundaries are so important to having a healthy and whole life. I shared on my podcast that I’m currently in a class with other adults. We’re all working to establish healthy boundaries in our lives. The course has been eye opening for me. I first read the book about two years ago. I’ve shared before that I’m a fast reader. I can read a huge book in one day. I just tune out the world and soak the book in. I read the first part of this book in a day and didn’t read the rest for another 6 months. I couldn’t take it! I saw too much of myself in the book, and I didn’t like it. Self examination is critical in the life of a believer. We always have to be open to correction. We always have to be willing to see ourselves for who we really are. It’s so easy for us to see what’s wrong with others. To take our crayons and color on their paper instead of looking at the scribble scrabble that we’ve done on our own papers. There are times when it’s appropriate to help someone color their picture. When it’s okay to color outside the lines. But there are so many times when we need to focus on the masterpiece that is our lives. When we need to concentrate on perfecting our ability to color our own picture. #we preach

When I started this blog, my plan was to post maybe three times a week. Let me emphasis that this was my plan. I felt that God wanted me to post every day, but I wasn’t quite on board with that. I went through a list to rationalize why my plan was the better plan. People get annoyed with over posting. And when I say people, I mean me…LOL. I really don’t have that much to write about. What if the subjects dry up? I’m not gonna be out here just doing something. Then what God??? Posting every day is a big time commitment. Especially when this wasn’t my idea in the first place. I even ran my plan about posting two or three times a week by Bible Study Brother. He thought that was cool as long as I was consistent. Then he started to expound on places the blog could take me, and I shut him down. I had to emphasize that I’m just writing. Don’t get carried away. But Bible Study Brother is not God. And just because he thought the idea was sound doesn’t mean that is was okay for me to roll with it. Like I told you before, this wasn’t my plan. It was God’s. So I have had to follow His lead. I’m not going to lie. It’s been hard. But even harder lately because I’m struggling with this book that I’m writing. I DON’T WANT TO WRITE IT!!! In church Sunday, my pastor deviated from his sermon to push the point that we don’t need to be silent. (I only know he deviated because he told us that this wasn’t even part of his sermon. The Holy Spirit wanted him to emphasize the point.) I know that message was for me. I can’t keep silent. I have to continue to write this book. It’s not only going to free me, but it will free someone who needs to read it. Even if I’m the only one that it frees, to God be the glory! Pray for me. I’m praying for ya’ll. #wepreach

I have spent a lot of my life bound. Bound by other people’s expectations of me. Bound by my perceived shortcomings. Bound by my poor decisions. The sermon from Sunday was entitled “Free Me” and came from Acts 16. Acts 16 tell some of the story of Paul and Silas and their mission work. Paul receives a vision from God that they need to preach the gospel in Macedonia. On their way to Macedonia, they encounter a slave girl who is possessed with a spirit of devination. The girl follows them for days crying out that they are the real deal. That Paul and Silas are servants of the Most High God. I was mighty surprised by the next scripture in the Bible. Paul was greatly annoyed. The spirit in the girl is telling the truth, but Paul was still annoyed. He commands the spirit to come out of the girl in the name of Jesus Christ. And the Bible says that the spirit came out of her that very hour. Well, this causes some problems with the masters of the slave. See, she was their money maker. And now that the spirit is gone, so is their profit. They drag Paul and Silas to the authorities and demand justice for their loss. Paul and Silas are beaten with rods and put into inner prison with their feet in stocks. All because Paul had a vision. And chose to obey God. I can’t lie. I would be upset. With people. And with God. I’m just doing what God told me to do, and it got me locked up. But how do Paul and Silas react? At midnight…when it is darkest…when they are beaten and bound, they pray and sing hymns to God. If that doesn’t give you butterflies and goosebumps, I don’t know what will. They stay steadfast and give thanks to God in a very dark time. And guess what else? The other prisoners were listening to them. Their praise caused an earthquake. The foundations of the prison were shaken. Every locked door opened and everyone’s chains were loosened. All the prisoners were free. Paul and Silas were free. The slave girl was free. The jailer and his family ended up being free. Because of Paul and Silas’s obedience and dependence on God. Your very presence should free those that are bound. The way you handle life’s curve balls should show a dark world that there is a God. You’re not going to get it right every time, but you should always be striving to let the light that is in you shine. I mess up constantly, but I’m not quitting. I’m determined that everyone within my circle will be free and not bound. Please know that if you’re reading this, you’re within my circle. I’m praying that God moves in your life and sets you free so that you can help free others. #wepreach

One day, I wore a Wonder Woman shirt to work. One of my little friends asked why I had the shirt on. Before I could reply, she came up with her own answer. She proclaimed that I was a superhero. I laughed and thanked her for recognizing how I awesome I am. Truthfully, I don’t spend time thinking about being awesome but her words made me think about the superheroes in my life. They weren’t wearing capes or masks, but their actions changed my life forever. They were simply walking in their gifts and in the calling that God had on their lives. I’m thinking about one superhero in particular. Mrs. Hunt was my Girl Scout troop leader. Later in life, she became Mrs. Bell but for most of my life, she was Mrs. Hunt. She was awesome! She had an energy and passion for mentoring girls that I haven’t seen since. She was loud…and funny….and God fearing. She prayed with us and for us. She championed us even when we didn’t want to be championed. Our troop motto was “Leave every place better than it was before you got there.” If the campground was clean before we got there, it was going to be even cleaner when we left. I’m just going to speak for myself. I wasn’t a big fan of the motto. I thought getting things back to their original position was sufficient. Even though, I wasn’t necessarily a fan of the motto, I lived by it. If I didn’t, there would have been a price to pay. I don’t have sufficient words to pay tribute to her or share with you just how much she shaped the woman I am today. We did life together. She attended every graduation I ever had. We worshipped together…ate together…vacationed together. I was looking for a picture of myself on the day that I got baptized to attach to “Take Me to the Water.” I couldn’t find a picture. Long after I posted that blog, I ran across the picture of me and Mrs. Hunt that I attached to today’s post. It was taken on the day that I got baptized. I cried because I don’t even remember that moment, but she was there for that day too. We would have a bridging over ceremony when we were going from one level of Girl Scouts to the next. We would usually go to the Old Mill in North Little Rock because it has a bridge. The older girls would stand on one side of the bridge to welcome the younger girls who were coming over to their level. Mrs. Hunt passed away when I was good and grown, but it was far too soon for me. I imagine her now in heaven waiting for all of the girls she mentored to walk over into Heaven’s gates. Are you a superhero in anyone’s life? Is the life your’e living right now making a difference? It should. We all need to be conscious of leaving this Earth a better place than it was before we got here. #wepreach

Last Sunday, I attended a floral workshop in Dallas. Why? Because I know that it’s time to level up in my event planning skills. Although it was only one day, it was intense for me. I was attending the workshop alone, which I didn’t mind, but I had to work with strangers. And socialize. Thankfully, the atmosphere was positive. People were eager to learn and practice. You could feel the excitement in the room. We split into groups organically to work on huge floral arrangements. I thought that I had removed all of the thorns from the roses that we were working with, but I was wrong. I grabbed a rose and dropped it as quickly as I grabbed it when a thorn pierced my thumb. I returned back to my normal life on Monday. Celebrated my brother’s birthday all that day, with and without him. I went back to work Tuesday and debated with the great young minds of the future. I went to my class on Wednesday and gained some new insight. The whole time my thumb was tender to the touch. On Thursday, I finally looked at my thumb closely. It was raised slightly and there was a small black speck. I couldn’t think of why my thumb would be so sore. And then I remembered the thorn. I got a safety pin and some tweezers and tried all day Thursday to get it out. I was just making the pain worse. I would have moments when I thought that maybe I was being delusional. Then one of my little friends would hit my thumb in just the right way to let me know that there was in fact something in there. What does one do when they can’t remove a thorn from their thumb? They go see their mother who is a surgical nurse and let her take care of it. It didn’t take long. My thorn was a thing of the past. This experience made me think of Paul…from the Bible. He had a thorn in his flesh that wouldn’t go away. He asked the Lord to remove it three times. God responded that His grace was sufficient. Although my thorn was removed this time, I have other thorns that remain. You can’t see them, but they are ever present. Thankfully, so is God’s grace. #wepreach

Forgiveness is easier said than done at times. Bible Study Brother and I currently have the best relationship that we’ve ever had. We had to work to get to this place. If you have time, listen to our first sit down talk about our epic disagreement.

I was coloring a picture with my little friend the other day. I poured the markers onto the table so that we wouldn’t have to pull them out of the box as we needed them. My friend decided to help as little friends often do. He poured all 24 crayons onto the table… unfortunately most of them hit the floor. This would have been a non issue if the floor was carpeted or there was a rug to break the crayons fall. But we were coloring at my dining room table. Which sits on a tile floor. “Sorry!”, he said, as he got down to pick the crayons up. Then he noticed that some of the crayons were broken. You may not know this if you’re not around kids often, but these new age kids like fully intact crayons. He wanted to throw my crayons away! I had to let him know that even though some of the crayons were broken… they still color. Maybe life has broken you in ways that people can’t see with the naked eye. They just know that there is something off about you. And they don’t want to be bothered. They want to throw you away because you’re not whole. I’ve got great news for you. You can still color! Broken doesn’t mean useless. There’s only one you, and we need you to make our picture complete. No one else can be you or do what you do. You add just the right pop to the life that we’re coloring. #wepreach

The very first blog that I wrote stated that this blog might not be for everyone. If you meet every road bump in life with optimism, my wavering faith might insult you. If you attended seminary, my inability to break things down into the Greek and Hebrew might annoy you. If you stay on social media all day, my daily uploading and sharing might send you over the edge. Guess what? I don’t care. That may sound rude…okay, it is rude. But it’s honest. If I’m a nuisance, that means this is not for you. I’m really on assignment from God. No one has told me to lay off on the blogs. No one has tried to tell me I’m not saved. But I’m kind of on one right now. I was listening to a podcast. A woman was talking about why she decided that Christianity is fake. She didn’t believe. Her grandma dragged her to church. She saw kids in the teen group falling out in the Spirit. That didn’t jive well with her. Then the teens asked if they could pray for her. She was like whatever. They prayed for her and wouldn’t you know it….she fell out. And she said when she woke up, she was on fire for the Lord. She was going out into the streets. With the crackheads and the unwanted folks…telling them about Jesus and the experience she had with Him. People were moved by her testimony and came to Christ. They didn’t look or smell like the other people at church. But they came. Unfortunately people at church weren’t pleased. She wasn’t following the rules. Didn’t she know that people needed to dress a certain way to attend their church? What was up with all the tattoos? Her reply was she didn’t come to church for the rules. She came for the Acts of the apostles part of the Bible. The seeking and saving those who are lost part. Church people who were focused on the look of the “church” ran her off. So now she’s torn. She knows her experience of God was real but now she doesn’t know what to do with it. Because obviously Christianity is fake. This BROKE MY HEART! I’m done with being fake. Many times folks in church are rude but they don’t care. So I decided not to care today too. PEOPLE ARE DYING AND GOING TO HELL because they don’t match our ideals. That’s not why Jesus died. We need to be more passionate about reaching the lost. I’m talking about the folks in church who proclaim a Christ they seem to know nothing about AND the folks who publicly reject Him. The fact of the matter is that Satan is not playing around. We shouldn’t be playing around either. #wepreach

I come from a family of straight shooters. People will tell you what’s wrong with you even if you didn’t ask. Let’s take the picture that’s associated with this post for example. I was on a cruise with my mom, Bible Study Brother, and his wife. We were dressed up for dinner at the Japanese steakhouse. When you’re cute, you take pictures . Or at least I do. At the steakhouse, a photographer came to take our pictures individually and as a group. At the end of the meal, they returned with printed copies of our photos. I opened my folder with excitement. I was soooo cute! I was almost convinced to spend the outrageous amount of money for that picture. Almost….but not quite. I showed the picture to my mom and she said, “I can see your little eye.” If you don’t know my immediate family, that might not be as hilarious to you as it was to me. Of the trio, we ALL have one eye that is noticeably smaller than the other. (I know I just lost half of ya’ll because you’re going back to Facebook or Instagram to figure out which eye is smaller…LOL!) Here I was…thinking I was sooo cute, and it took someone close to me to bring me back in focus. For the record, I WAS cute! But she knew what to say to get me back in line. Money seems to just fly out of my hands sometimes. She had the words to calm my trigger finger. Heed the warnings of those close to you. If you’re both on the same team, they don’t want to see you fail. If they work for the enemy, rebuke them and buy the picture! I didn’t buy the cruise picture but I rocked my selfies! #wepreach

When I was a teenager, talking on the phone was my life. I talked so much to my friends that I was tying up the main phone line. So my mom got me my own phone line. I would talk to all of my friends. Sometimes, we would have a three way calling chain so that we could all be on the line at the same time. As I got older, I still enjoyed talking on the phone. I would talk to my bestie every night after we graduated from graduate school. If I had been abducted, she would have probably been the first to notice followed shortly behind by my cousin and mother. What did we have to talk about? Our days at work, whatever was on tv, just life in general. And she also spoke frequently of her husband. He wasn’t her husband or fiance at that time. He was her boyfriend. She wasn’t complaining about him or their relationship. She just talked about him all the time. I could say that I like cheese pizza and she would say that they ate cheese pizza once. You get the idea. He was just a regular part of our conversations. She spoke well of him. Because they were so close and had such a good relationship, I thought that automatically meant that he was my bestie too. So I would always approach him like I just got off the phone with him the night before. But I didn’t just get off the phone with him. She spoke of him so often that I thought my relationship with him was guaranteed. I knew her…and she knew him…so that means that he knows me. Can you see my flawed logic? We often do that with our relationship with Christ as we grow and become adults. “Well, my grandma prayed for me. Surely that’s enough to keep me. I knew grandma…grandma knew Jesus..so that means He knows me.” And not only did our grandmas know Jesus, but they spoke well of Him. But grandma speaking well of Jesus…me speaking well of Jesus is not enough to help you. You have to have a personal relationship. I’m not talking about church rules. I’m talking about a real relationship. Where you tell Jesus everyday stuff. We make relationship with Him too deep sometimes. It’s not always about praying for things and stuff. You should have moments when you just say, “Lord, that’s a beautiful sunset” or “This chicken was fire Jesus!” I started this blog to share my walk with the Lord with saints and aint’s. I want to speak so well of God that you become convinced to try Him for yourself. And even if it doesn’t convince anyone, it convicts me everyday to love Him more. To turn more of myself over to Him daily. #wepreach

I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it…I’m an introvert. Really, I need to stop saying it. Because although that’s my natural preference, I’ve received some of my biggest blessings when I step outside of what’s comfortable to me. I met my bestie in undergraduate school. We sat close to each other in all of the classes for our major. I don’t even remember talking to her much (remember…introvert). I was just going to class to take care of business. Making friends was not in my plans. Then out of the blue, she asked me if I wanted to go with her to a concert at the COGIC convention in Memphis. The concert was going to start late at night so we’d have to stay at a hotel. Her sister and friend were going as well. The crazy thing is that I said “Sure” without hesitation. I didn’t know her! I mean I saw her in class but that’s it. The even crazier thing is that she asked me in the first place. I like to think I’m an introvert but she far exceeds me in this category…lol. She’s VERY private. And although I have a hard time with new people, I can give way too much information to those that I’m close to. So she has had to adjust to me over the years. Our first trip has led to many wonderful excursions. And crazy adventures. Not just in traveling the world but in traveling life with each other. We have learned what it means to think we’re adults versus full fledged adulting. I don’t even want to think about where I would be if I hadn’t said “Sure” when she extended the craziest invitation of her life. If you don’t know Jesus, He’s extending a crazy invitation to you. It may seem wild to think that some dude you don’t know died just for you, but He did. God knew you before you were even formed in your mother’s womb. He’s been waiting for you to accept His invitation. He wants to travel through life with you. It will get wild and crazy at times, but He wants to be right there though it all. Don’t miss out on the best relationship ever because it’s outside of your comfort zone. You’ll be so glad you accepted the invitation. #wepreach

Rest. It’s almost a curse word in our fast paced society. I have normalized having a life that is full and moving at a rapid rate. Although it took a lot for me to get my house to the current state that’s in, I rarely get to enjoy it. I’m always going to the next event or scheduled activity in my day. I finally got an unexpected day off. My mind immediately got busy filling the empty spaces. And then I heard, “Rest.” I shrugged it off and thought that couldn’t be God. Aren’t we supposed to be always working and striving for some goal? But then I heard it again. And I chose to listen. I slept until it was light outside. That never happens! Fitz, my cat, didn’t even wake me up for his breakfast. I was hours behind schedule. I guess he knew I needed rest too. I let the day unfold with no specific agenda in mind. I had a great lunch with my family. We were able to laugh and catch up on life. Played some Nintendo Switch with my brother. Chatted about my book with my sister-in-law. Took a relaxing bath. I was able to just breathe. I know that may not seem restful for some people but for me it was. I wasn’t rushing from one place to the next. I moved at slower pace, and it was completely spontaneous. I rested and let God control the wheel. Hmmmm…maybe I wouldn’t feel so frazzled if I really rested in Him everyday. He keeps telling me to give everything over to Him, but obviously I haven’t been doing that. God has been taking the smallest things and showing me who He is. He is the perfect resting place. #wepreach

For the past six Halloweens, I have worn my Halloween lashes. They are very long and have red metallic strips in them. It doesn’t matter what costume I’m wearing. I just know that I’ll be wearing the lashes with the costume. I have been an M&M, a ladybug twice (not consecutively), a witch, Wonder Woman, and most recently, Play-Doh. You may be perplexed about how I made the red lashes work with Play-Doh. Why by being RED Play-Doh of course!!! Play-Doh t-shirt, jeggings, a red beanie, red lashes, some red lipstick, and I was good to go. (I had to struggle to fit my afro under a beanie, but that was the hardest part.) As has become my practice, I saw a very spiritual correlation between my costume and where I am right now in life. Since I work with kids, I’m around Play-Doh often. Play-Doh is modeling clay. It comes in many different colors and sizes. Call me weird, but I love the smell of freshly opened Play-Doh. Some of my kids do as well. Fresh Play-Doh is really soft. So it’s particularly good to use with some of the Play-Doh toys and play sets that are available. They have a toy that you can use to push Play-Doh through to make spaghetti. It’s so much easier to push the Play-Doh through when it’s fresh out of the container and pliable. Older Play-Doh is good too. You can roll it out and it retains shapes much longer. Perfect for the cut out toys. They come in different shapes. You can make your Play-Doh into a heart, bear, cookie, grapes…the options are endless. Since the Play-Doh has been exposed to air for longer, you can pick these shapes up and manipulate them at will. They won’t fall over when you try to stand them upright. In order to extend the life of your Play-Doh, you MUST make sure the lid is on tightly when you’re finished playing with it or it will dry out. And be useless. Then you’ll have to throw it away. I can’t tell you how many times my kids have become frustrated with hard Play-Doh. I fluctuate between being pliable, firm, and plain dried out. Thankfully, when I get into my container, the vessel God created for me, I come out fresh every time. #wepreach

We have interesting discussions at work. My coworker shared that she had shown the kids in her class at church the movie, Pilgrim’s Progress. My response was “What’s that about?” She was surprised that I had never heard of it. The Pilgrim’s Progress from This World, to That Which is to Come was written by John Bunyan in 1678. It’s basically a parable of the journey of becoming a Christian. Mr. Bunyan wrote this work while he was in prison. He was locked up for holding religious services outside of the actual sanctioned church buildings. Clearly, the church didn’t understand that each individual makes up the church. The church can’t be contained in a physical building. WE are the church. Okay…I’ll get off my soapbox. My coworker was kind enough to bring the film to me. I called my family and proclaimed that we were having a movie night. I really enjoyed the film. He created a parable way back in 1678 that stands the test of time. After watching the film, I had to do a little bit of research. This is a popular book in the Christian world, and I had never even heard of it’s existence. Even though, I haven’t been saved all my life sometimes it feels like it…LOL. I have certainly been to enough church services. The influence of his book is far reaching. Numerous films, plays, operas, video games, and musicals have been produced using his work as a starting point. According to Wikipedia, Season 7, episode 16 of Family Guy is a parody of the book and is called “Peter’s Progress.” I said all that to say this…what progress have you made on your journey? Are you using your gifts and talents in a way that over 300 years from now people will still be inspired by your obedience? It’s not too late. You can start today. Make some progress. #wepreach

Let’s discuss the time that I got drunk. Writing about Noah reminded me about that precarious situation. Let me start off by letting you know that I don’t drink. What I mean is that I despise the taste of alcohol. It’s not a strong religious stance. I just don’t like it. When you tell people that you don’t drink, the first thing they say is “Well, you haven’t tried (fill in the blank with your favorite alcoholic beverage that you think a non drinker can tolerate).” It seems to make drinkers uncomfortable to be around a non-drinker. I don’t know why. I keep the party going while I’m sober. Ask my cousins. I was the ball drop at our New Year’s Eve party one year….LOL. I digress. This story takes place on the very first weekend that I moved to Houston, Texas. A family friend that had lived in Houston for years wanted to take me and Tomica out. So off we went. Our first stop was a sports bar. Let me remind you that I’m an introvert before this story gets too far. The friend bought us Long Island Iced Teas before I could protest. I’m also very polite. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful. So when the drink came, I drank it. Not sipped it. I downed that thing. They were talking and catching up. I was content to introvert it and chug that drink down. IT WAS DISGUSTING! So I held my breath and went whole hog. Tomica looked over and said “You finished that whole thing? Girl, this drink is strong.” <Shoulder shrug from me> We left the sports bar and went to Chacho’s which instantly became one of my favorite eating spots in Houston. While there, he purchased me a strawberry daiquiri. To be fair, at this point my reflexes were very impaired. I don’t even think I was able to say “nope.” They continued to talk, talk, talk. And I got drunker, drunker, and drunker. I fell asleep on the car ride to my pretty new apartment. But ohhhh, when we got there, and I woke up…..I was LIT! Heartburn on 10,000. And I had to let the entire world know just how I was feeling. I woke up my mom and my two cousins who were sleeping in the apartment with my screams of “It burns,” “I’m hungry,” and “Why does this burn so bad?” My mom was far from thrilled. My cousin begged Tomica to go get me some food so that I would shut up. (Even though, I had just eaten.) This story goes down in history in my family. I’m pretty positive that it’s the reason that my cousins don’t offer me drinks…LOL. I was in my mid-20’s and not able to stand up for myself. I was still trying to blend in when I was born to stand out. I’m not on a soapbox saying that people shouldn’t drink, but you SHOULD be true to whoever you are. I’m sure everyone around me is grateful that I’m finally true to who I am. #wepreach

But Shem and Japheth took a garment, laid it on both their shoulders, and went backward and covered the nakedness of their father. Genesis 9:23 I told you my pastor has been dropping nuggets and giving us Happy Meals that we can eat on during the week. This past Sunday was no exception. He finished up a 3 part series on the life of Noah. Since I’m supposed to recap the sermon for ya’ll, here you go. I hope you’re hungry because it’s definitely something to chew on. We know the story of Noah in the ark with the animals and his entire family, but I don’t remember hearing too much about his life after his miraculous encounter with God. After they walk out on dry land, they begin to build a life. The story I’m discussing takes place quite a while after they have settled into their new existence. How do I know? Because Noah has had time to plant a vineyard, tend to the grapes, harvest the grapes, and ferment some quality wine. And indulge in all that he has created. It’s so delicious that he finds himself over indulging…okay…that was very gentle. He got drunk. So drunk that he becomes uncovered…naked…exposed in his own tent. Anybody ever been drunk? I have once but that’s a story for another day. Noah’s son, Ham, walks in and sees the nakedness of his father. My first instinct would be to cover my dad up, but Ham is functioning in a different vein. He goes outside to tell his brothers, Shem and Japheth, that their father is passed out drunk and naked. Maybe he expected them to chuckle or throw their hands up in exasperation. However, they chose to take action. They didn’t want to see their father exposed so they backed into the tent with a garment on their shoulders and used the garment to cover their father. They did not berate him or chastise him. They covered him. I’ll admit that I like a good bit of “tea.” You can serve it to me hot or cold, and I’ll sip on it. Until recently. Lately, I’ve been more concerned about people. This sermon hit home and let me know that it’s God pushing me in this direction. Instead of serving tea about other’s downfalls, we need to be covering them. We can cover them with prayer. We can cover them with encouraging words. We can cover them by not repeating every struggle that they shared with us in confidence. Because there will come a day when we will be the ones who are naked and exposed and vulnerable. I sure hope someone will come along to cover me. #wepreach

My pastor posed a question using the story of Noah. After the calamities in your life, did you come out any better? That question alone will preach and make you question exactly where you are in your life’s journey. It’s disappointing to come through storms and trials and not have learned anything. To keep making the same mistakes. To keep going back to the same man. To keep overdrafting your bank account. To keep regaining the same pounds. I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about myself. He also talked about the fact that Noah made it through his storm because of the boat that he built. He didn’t try to get in someone else’s ark. His life and the life of his family depended on the quality of the boat that he created. See Noah listened to God’s instructions in a dry season. He hadn’t even ever seen rain, but he trusted that God knew what He was talking about. So day after day, he followed God’s instructions. And when the flood and torrential rains came, he had manufactured a boat that was able to weather the storm. What kind of boat are you building right now? Do you spend time reading even a short scripture every day? Do you pray? If you do pray, do you ever sit still to give God time to respond? Are you even concerned about hearing God’s voice? Ya’ll I’m working on my boat. I’m leaning on His word because one day the flood and torrential rains will come. It will probably be something I haven’t ever heard of or seen before, and I need to be prepared. Because I can only come out better if I survive the flood. #wepreach

If I had known how much I would have to interact with people before I chose my career, I would have chosen a different career. I found myself thinking just the other day that a desk job somewhere seemed like a good idea. I fantasized about the perfect career that would allow me to hide behind a computer. A career that would give me the opportunity to be alone. Most people in my career are extroverts. They enjoy discussing progress with parents and debating about the most effective course of treatments. Don’t misunderstand me. I love my babies and our therapy time. It’s the interacting with adults that I wasn’t anticipating or prepared for when I set out on the therapist track. I’m an introvert by nature. When I’m around people that I’m familiar with, I become more vocal and feel freer. Unfortunately, my profession forces me to interact with total strangers on a regular basis. And God knew that when He placed this career path on my heart. Given the choice, I isolate myself, and that’s not what He desires for me. He created me to operate in community. I’ve been receiving that message over and over. And although I don’t like it, I know that it is what’s best for me. It is in community that I receive correction…and protection. Satan loves to isolate people. You’re vulnerable when you’re by yourself. I was watching a nature show and the lioness were able to devour a baby zebra that was separated from the pack. It is in community that I get to see God’s people in action. As Christians, we need to do life together. Not apart. We not only need to do life together as Christians, but we need to do life together with unbelievers. Our lives can either be testaments of God’s grace or distract them from seeing His face clearly. There is a world hungry for just a taste of the peace that Christians have. (Or the peace that we’re SUPPOSED to have). They can’t see how God is moving in our lives if we don’t do life alongside them. It is in community that we live lives that draw others to the light shining in us. I have to continually step outside of my comfort zone and get involved in my community. There are too many baby zebras out there that Satan can’t wait to destroy. They work in the office beside you. They ring up your groceries at the grocery store. They hold the door open for you when you are entering a new building. We’re not leaving anyone behind. It’s not effective if I’m the only one trying to protect them. It is in community that we see souls won to Christ. #wepreach

My prayer life is not where it should be. My cousin taught Sunday School a while back, and he gave us a challenge. We were to pray for one person for an entire week. We didn’t have to let the person know that we were praying. We just needed to pray. I decided to give it a shot and picked my person. I didn’t say long or complicated prayers, but everyday I lifted them up to God. It wasn’t at the same time every day either. I was recapping my friend’s week with them. They shared with me just how trying their week had been. Normally, this kind of week would have turned them upside down. They shared that they had peace. I said “Maybe that’s why God put you in my mind as the person that I should pray for.” I have no clue how many people have prayed for me. I’m sure that somebody is interceding (praying) on my behalf right now. I’m thankful for their obedience. Our faith has to have feet. We have to work out our salvation. I’m challenging you (and myself) to choose one person that you will pray for for one week. Just pray. Check in with them at the end of seven days and see how things are going. Let’s watch how God moves. #wepreach

The day that this particular post is released was going to be my wedding day. If you read “I Said Yes to the Dress,” you know about my broken engagement, my embarrassment, and ultimately my surrender to God’s will for my life. As this day approached, my bestie asked how I was feeling. It was the beginning of October. Life was clicking along. I responded that I felt fine. And unlike other times in the past, I really felt fine. Actually, I feel more than fine. I feel grateful. I feel peace. I feel that I’m finally starting to realize the purpose that God has for me. Focusing on wedding planning allowed me to ignore some huge problems in my life. I was able to box them up and put them on a shelf. In my head, I would just unpack those boxes after the wedding. How many married folks know how foolish that was? How many unmarried folks know how foolish that was? How many don’t-want-to-be married folks know how foolish that was? I had to pull those boxes off the shelf and start dealing with me. The boxes are getting lighter and easier to move around. I’ll really be glad when I can just throw them away all together. It has been dusty and messy work, but I’m so glad that clean up is in progress. Although I’m not walking down the aisle today, I can renew the commitment I made to Christ 27 years ago when I submitted my life to him. Although I’m not changing my last name, I can change the way that I respond when God calls me by my name. Although I’m not having a first dance with my husband, I can dance through life with God and know that I have the best partner ever. Oh yeah…. and I can still eat cake. #wepreach

I really can’t tell you how many times I’ve quit this blog. My life is full. I have lots of commitments and people pulling me in different directions. Add the fact that I’m not comfortable with sharing my life, and you have a recipe for walking away. I have been forced to evaluate my busyness. I had some real life inspiration courtesy of the Braves. Have you heard of the Braves? They are a rag tag team of t-ballers from Conway. I watched the Braves battle it out on the t-ball field every Tuesday. Really, they’re just learning the game. There are no winners or losers. Everyone gets to bat until they hit the ball. Everyone gets to round the bases and make it home. The Braves are young, and their attention wavered easily. With the exception of one kid. You could look at him and know that he had watched someone play baseball before. He knew the game. While his teammates were in the outfield dancing, he was running to bases with the ball in his hand and declaring that the other team was out. Poor kid. He was so frustrated when they didn’t send the opposing team packing. The other Braves were living their best life. Some of them were chasing each other. Sometimes, they would follow their teammate that knew the game but they had no clue what was going on. One friend just sat in the outfield, and when asked what was going on, declared that he was busy. Oh dear. That’s me and my Christian life. I’ve already been declared a winner so I often have no urgency to score home runs for Christ. Because I already know that my future is secured. I’m going to make it to home plate. So I’m like my friend sitting in the outfield…. “busy” but not doing anything. I’ve been convicted and convinced that I need to change. I need to be a star player and yell that Satan is out when he tries to make it to any base. This ball field is the Lord’s. #wepreach

“I went out full, and the Lord has brought me back home again empty. Why do you call me Naomi, since the Lord has testified against me, and the Almighty has afflicted me?” Ruth 1:21 My pastor has been preaching out of his soul. Do you hear me??? Every Sunday, the Lord is shining down on him and breathing fire out of his mouth. He has been speaking directly to me. Did Jesus sit with him and tell him my story? Maybe this will speak directly to you as well. He preached from the book of Ruth. I’ll give you a brief description to get you caught up to the point of his sermon. Naomi is a woman from Bethlehem. She has a husband, named Elimelech, and two sons. Bethlehem begins to experience a famine. Elimelech decides that the family should move to the country of Moab when the famine begins in Bethlehem. The family sets up residence in Moab. Then, Naomi’s husband dies. The boys grow up and marry Moabite women. Then, both of her sons die as well. While still in Moab, Naomi hears that God has visited His people back home in Bethlehem and given them bread. Ruth, one of Naomi’s daughter-in-laws, decides to journey back to Bethlehem with her. That brings us to the point of the sermon that stirred something up in me. Naomi feels lost and discouraged. The women of her home town are excited to see her. They say, “Naomi, girl is that you?” Naomi responded from her frustration and says “Don’t call me that name. I’m not the Naomi you knew. Life has been rough on me. I’m bitter now.” While I’m not bitter, I have been through situations that changed me. Situations that distorted my view of God’s grace and mercy. The shout is that my pastor was able to point out something that I had never noticed in all my days of hearing this Bible story. Naomi states that she left Bethlehem full. Wait a minute…weren’t they in a famine when they left Bethlehem? Isn’t that why they left Bethlehem? Yet God was keeping them full in a dead and dry situation. That’s not the only point that made my toes tingle. Naomi also states that she made it all the way back home while being empty. Have you ever been able to get back home from a far off land while being empty? That’s a miracle! God has been sustaining me and keeping me even when I fail to realize it. Sermons like this make me run to church Sunday after Sunday. I’m not perfect but God sure is perfecting me. And every Sunday, He makes sure that I leave out full. #wepreach

What makes someone qualified? Is it having letters behind your name? A degree? Technical training? In the body of Christ, we’re told that God doesn’t necessarily call the qualified. He qualifies the called. I’m a perfect example of qualifying the called. The biggest struggle that I have with writing this blog is that I think my voice is not sufficient. I’m not a theologian. I just go to church. I’m just trying to live like God wants me to live. And I want other Christians to know that they’re not alone. Hearing other Christians’ stories, or their testimonies (in church language), lets me know that I can make it. I’m talking about real stories. Not the stories that you tell in front of the pastor, because you think it makes you seem redeemed. My grandma told me that she laughed when reading some of my blogs. I told her she was supposed to laugh. My life is not buttoned up. It gets downright hilarious. I can’t imagine that God doesn’t have sense of humor. He sees my life! Not every part of my story is serious. Most of the time, I’m not serious. Which also caused me to doubt my call. But at the end of the day, I know God wants this for me in this season of my life. So, I type. When I’m uncertain. When I’m confident. When I’m tired. When I’m energized. When I’m sad. When I’m happy. When I’m hungry. When I’m full. And I trust that God will get the glory out of an unqualified girl. #wepreach

Bible Study Girl was not the original name that I had in mind for this blog. The original name was trendy and did not proclaim as loudly what this blog was about. I checked to see if the domain name was available for my original name, and it was! Score!!!! I’m not super tech savvy, but I took it as a sign from on high that the name was a winner. AFTER I purchased the domain name, I had a brilliant idea. I decided to Google the name to see if anyone else was using it. Guess what ya’ll? They were. They had a Facebook page, Instagram page, and a podcast. Just no website. I quickly requested to chat with an online agent about my dilemma. Would it be possible to change my domain name? “Of course you can,” the online agent replied, “but you have to purchase it.” My blogging went up in smoke. I had already spent more than I had planned on for this new endeavor that wasn’t even my plan! It was His! The agent needed a new name, and I had nothing. Except, I did. “Is Biblestudygirl.com available?” It was. Biblestudygirl.com was born. The name Bible Study Girl was birthed in my apartment. I told you previously about the group of young ladies that I met with for 10 weeks to complete Beth Moore’s Bible study of Esther. I told my cousin that I wanted to do a Bible study with ladies. She invited ladies, and I invited ladies, and other ladies invited ladies. By the end of the study, we were down to a consistent group of six. When we finished that first study, nobody wanted to stop meeting. We wanted more. I don’t remember who came up with the name for our tribe, but it stuck. The BSG’s didn’t play. Our group blessed me tremendously. It was so refreshing to have women that were trying to figure out what walking out this Christian life really meant. We didn’t talk cute. We were open and honest about our struggles. The awesome thing about our group is that we didn’t all attend the same church or come from the same neighborhood. We were able to offer different perspectives. I think that’s missing in the body of Christ. Being in fellowship with other believers helps to move you in the right direction. You are held accountable. Not only that, but it allows you to see God move in spectacular ways for others and even for you personally. If I had listened to my doubts, the group never would have happened. God had been pushing me to do a group Bible study, but I constantly reminded Him that I wasn’t qualified. At the beginning of the study, I made sure to inform everyone that I was just asking the questions that were written in the leader’s book. God was going to do the rest. And He did. A supposed-to-be one time event changed the course of my life. I’m forever grateful for that season. Maybe it’s time for you to take a leap of faith and complete a Bible study with your friends and friends of your friends. It may open the door to an unexpected future. #wepreach

How do you personally know when God is speaking to you?  Christians are known for saying, “Then God said to me…” or “The Lord told me…,” but what does that mean in real life?  Do you hear an audible voice?  Does it sound like rushing waters?  Do you hear tingling bells? I have struggled with knowing God’s voice.  Or at least that’s what I tell myself.  I haven’t ever heard clanging bells or the cry of a dove, but I do know when He’s speaking to me.  Participating in the Bible study Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby gave me good, practical application of discerning God’s voice from my own. I typically make spur of the moment life choices.  I leap and expect that I’ll fly or God will catch me before I break too many bones.  You want to know when I get super deep and spiritual?  When it’s something God wants me to do..LOL.  It’s not funny, but it is at the same time. When God tells me to do something, the prayer cloth comes out.  I’m gonna pray about that thing and meditate on it.  “Send me confirmation Lord!”  “I don’t want to move unless You tell me to.”  Meanwhile, the craziest thought that’s not of Him will come to mind, and I’ll do it with no hesitation. I’ve said it before, and I’ll continue to say it, God is growing me.  I’m beginning to trust Him in more areas of my life.  I’m learning to wait for confirmation from God each time an idea comes to mind. Although I don’t want to do things before I should, I also don’t want to wait and never move when He tells me to move. This skill grows the more that I use it. I’m thankful that God is gracious.  I’m thankful that He continues to speak to me and through me.  I’m thankful that He ministers to each part of me that has even a little unbelief.  I’m thankful that I get to experience Him anew EVERY day.  #wepreach

Even though she is the quintessential definition of a Sour Patch kid, Sweet Baby just melts my butter.  She is curious.  She is dramatic.  She is funny.  She is inquisitive.  And she never forgets. I didn’t realize how much she was listening to me.  I was hugging her one day, and I told her she was the sweetest girl.  Her reply was “In the whole world?  You forgot that part.” I usually tell her that she is the sweetest girl in the whole world, but for some reason I left the last part out that day.  But because she listens to me, she didn’t forget.  I have been reflecting on that interaction more and more. What is it that God says about me that I’m not saying about myself?  I sit in service after service and Bible study after Bible study.  What have I taken away from those experiences?  Am I really who God says that I am?  Or am I who people say that I am? Folks have called me cute.  Fat.  Disrespectful whore.  Intelligent.  Educated fool.  Confident.  Lazy.  Suck up.  Nerd.  Square.  Stuck up.  Friendly.  Quiet.  Loud.  Competitive. You get the picture.  It’s easy to get caught up in the whole world’s opinion of me.  But who does God say that I am? A chosen generation.  A royal priesthood.  His bride.  An heir.  Sheep.  Forgiven.  Redeemed.  Worthy.  Purposed.  Servant.  Soldier.  Set apart.  Prophet to the nations.  His own special people.  A holy nation.  His child. The sad part is that it was so easy for me to think of all the things that people say about me.  And so difficult to tell you who God says I am.  I literally had to stop writing this blog and search scripture to see who God says that I am.  Those words didn’t just roll off of my tongue. I’ve got work to do.  And so do you.  I’m going to make it a practice to speak over myself who God says I am.  They need to just roll off my tongue.  When people say things that go against who God called me to be, I can immediately squash the negative thoughts or opinions.  Because, I’ve been listening to who God says that I am.  #wepreach

Super heros are an amazing creation. It’s even more incredible when you know one in real life. To me, that person was/is my sister. For the majority of my life, I’ve seen her do the most difficult things with extreme ease. She is, by all accounts, the purest definition of black girl magic. I aspired in a lot of ways to make my sister proud of me.  She was my first best friend and de facto parent when my mother wasn’t around. What does any of that have to do with forgiveness or finding out what it means you ask?  Well, all siblings fight.  And our biggest fight was surrounding a decision I made. I won’t go into too many details about what choice I made, but just know I made it with no regrets and with one focus in mind. We’d never been this mad at each other ever. We had gone months or weeks without speaking before (given how petty we both can be) but nothing of this magnitude.  I felt miserable. I felt alone. I didn’t feel at all like myself. I was disconnected from all the things that made me feel sane. My sounding board, my day one, my big sister was no longer there for me to lean on. I stewed in anger and resentment. I allowed stress to wear me down. I let my joy be stolen from me. I felt sicker than I’d ever felt before. Why?   The reason was unforgiveness. We don’t understand that holding on to anger and unforgiveness can and will manifest itself in our lives. It will eat away at you physically, mentally, and most importantly spiritually. You will be lost in wherever the enemy decides to lead you. All because you choose to not let go.  I told you in part one that I never got the chance to reconcile with my uncle before he passed and how much that still hurts me to this day. How then, could I look at this situation and repeat my mistakes all over again? I couldn’t.  Or rather, I wouldn’t. I kept the love I had for my superhero right in my heart. I let it guide me through the storm we’d arrived in. I prayed. I let go. And I let God.  Once I stopped trying to hold onto the reins and stopped trying to make sense of things from my point of view, God let me know what he wanted for me. He was looking for us to grow. He wanted us to reap the things He’d sown into us. How could we do that if we didn’t do as Jesus did on the cross? Forgiveness can uplift you past so many things if you allow it to. Unforgiveness is poison, while Forgiveness is the cure. Take the cure. #wepreach

Agreeing to disagree is difficult but sometimes necessary.  I hadn’t ever really pegged myself as a person who was even capable of agreeing to disagree.  Because if you don’t agree with me, you’re wrong.  Or at least, I told myself that. My brother and I had an epic battle.  A battle so huge that I packed up and moved into my unrenovated, moldy home.  A small part of me was hoping that I would get really sick so I could stick it to all parties involved and say “Look what you did!”  I’m just being honest. Our fight had far reaching effects.  I drew a line in the sand, and our once inseparable trio was decimated.  When there is division in a family, people naturally take sides.  I was about to lie and say that I wasn’t actively campaigning for support, but I’m forcing myself to be transparent.  Because while I wasn’t verbally saying “take my side”, I was verbally pushing my point to anyone who would listen. And I do mean anyone.  You know my soul had to be vexed if I was sharing my frustrations with people.  As a general rule, I keep my feelings to myself and a select few people.  If you met me during that time, you probably knew that I wasn’t speaking to my brother.  That’s how out of character I was.  Furious and outraged and disappointed and frustrated. So how did we get from there to where we are now?  Nobody but God.  I always feel the need to put a disclaimer out there that I’m not a super saint when I make these statements.  A super saint wouldn’t tell you that they were ready to physically throw down with their brother.  A super saint would not admit that they have a strong cut off spirit.  I’m good with people until I’m not good with people.  I cut you off.  You get cancelled.  Good riddance. My brother knows that about me.  I felt he had crossed a line that there was no coming back from.  I felt that he had been blatantly disloyal to the trio.  I felt there was no excuse for his actions. God humbled me.  Not immediately.  It took a long time.  We went to therapy (yes…paid to have a mediator and we needed it).  We prayed around each other.  I’m not gonna say together because I can’t emphasize how much I was not feeling him.  My mama definitely prayed for us. If you had asked me, even two years ago, where I saw our relationship in the future, my answer would not have looked anything like our present reality.  He is one of my closest friends.  For years, I tried to parent him and that wasn’t my role.  I had to acknowledge my wrongs and work on me.  I had to stop expending energy working on him and trying to “fix” him.  The only person that I can “fix” is me.  And I can’t even fix myself.  I have to be willing to let God mold and shape me. Our journey back together was so hard, but I’m thankful that we were able to take the pull.  God knew I would need my brother this year even though I didn’t.  He has called me every day to check to make sure that I’m okay or just to say he loves me.  And those things matter so much more than our argument.  #wepreach

“Can you eat an elephant?”  A professor in graduate school posed this question to our class.  My immediate thought was “nope.”  So I was surprised when she said that we could, in fact, eat an elephant.  One bite at a time.  Honestly, it’s the one statement from graduate school that I reflect on most often. I’ve told you that I shy away from the big challenges.  I step back when I think things may be too tough.  I don’t want to fail, and I don’t want to fall.  But you all know life has a way of making you stumble.  So why am I so afraid of falling?  I do it all the time. Recently, I’ve been getting bombarded with messages about faith.  One of my BSG’s (Bible Study Girls) sent a group text out encouraging us to watch the series “Crazy Faith” by Transformation Church on YouTube.  I had actually saved the series the day before because someone on Facebook recommended it.  I took that as confirmation from God that I needed to watch it. I immediately began to watch/listen to the series.  All of the messages resounded with me.  God is doing something with me and in me right now.  And I have to trust Him.  Our Sunday School lessons have all centered around faith recently too.  No matter what I do, I can’t get away from the chant that I need to put all my trust and hope in Him. So, I’m eating this elephant and writing a book.  It’s not the cute and sparkly tale that I initially planned to write, but it’s honest.  And real.  And scary.  My prayer is that it changes my life.  My prayer is that it changes the lives of people around the world.  As much as I love to eat, I have no desire to eat this elephant.  But I’m doing it.  One bite at a time.  #wepreach

Online dating is interesting.  We live in a technologically advanced world.  It’s only fitting that the current dating style reflects the world we live in.  But it’s weird.  I’m naturally an introvert so I’m not really into being aggressive. Which is probably why I’m single.  Women are AGGRESSIVE nowadays.  I’ve come to the conclusion that men are enjoying being pursued.  That’s just not my style. Actually, there are probably lots of reasons why I’m single.  It’s come to my attention that my flirting radar is not activated.  During another smaller cousin council, my cousins informed me that I succinctly shot down a man who was trying to shoot his shot.  I didn’t agree with them.  I was handling business.  I was in business mode.  I took his conversation as small talk.  The cousin council outvoted my opinion. They may be right.  I once had a man say that he would take me to eat steak.  My reply was “I don’t eat steak.”  Because I don’t.  Then later he said, “I can take you to eat seafood.”  Well, I’m not really into that either so I said, “I don’t eat seafood.”  In my defense, I was in another business situation and trying to calculate how much money something was going to cost me.  Also in my defense, he had a whole boo so maybe that was just God blocking it….hahaha. In online dating, you’re supposed to put your best foot forward so you can reel some unsuspecting joker in.  (I saw a dude’s profile where he used his dirty foot as the profile picture.  I appreciate the sentiment, but it was too gross for me).  I don’t get many hits on my profile because I use a no makeup picture of me.  It’s how I look 98% of the time.  I’m just trying to get somebody who thinks I’m beautiful just as I am. Let me tell you.  That’s hard in this world of filters and airbrushing.  I don’t want some poor innocent man to not recognize me when we meet in person.  I’m mostly comfortable in the skin that I’m in, and I need somebody that appreciates that.  And although I struggle with some areas of confidence, I’m confident that God will send the right one when it’s time.  #wepreach

Music makes me happy.  When I was younger, Boyz II Men was one of my favorite groups.  Those brothers can SANG.  Do you hear me???  I was thrilled when they were coming to Barton Coliseum.  My mom got tickets, and we went to the show.  The stagehands brought the roses on the stage…and Boyz II Men never came out.  I don’t know why they didn’t perform, but I do know I was devastated. Two or three years ago, we decided to give Boyz II Men another shot.  They were performing in Birmingham, Alabama.  Birmingham is not that far of a drive.  We love road trips.  The night before the concert there was an ice storm in Birmingham.  What are the odds that Birmingham would have an ice storm?????  Mom called to see if the concert was still going on, and they gave us the green light.  We hit the road.  By the time we reached Southaven, Mississippi, she got the call that the concert was cancelled.  We headed back home after a quick stop to see Sweet Baby playing in the snow. Then in May or June of this year, I decided that I wanted to give it another shot.  I told my mom that we should go to Vegas on the weekend that I was supposed to have been getting married.  I had airline credits from my cancelled honeymoon.  And while we were in Vegas, we could finally see Boyz II Men LIVE! When looking at tickets, I saw that they were going to be in Tunica in October, so I revised my plan.  We were headed to Tunica.  The day of the concert arrived.  My mom asked me what time the show started, and I couldn’t get into my Ticketmaster account.  Really???  I was finally able to get in and confirm the time.  And the fact that I had actually bought the tickets.  I had some tense moments. We finally got there, AND IT WAS EVERYTHING!!!!!  Harmony just seeping out of their veins.  It seemed effortless.  You can watch my mom’s Facebook live videos and hear her singing along. (Every time she pulled her phone out, I had to whisper sing which really marshed my mellow.)  They had the nerve to ask if it was anybody’s first time seeing them live.  And if so, what took them so long.  They didn’t want to hear my story for real…kmsl. It was worth the wait though.  #wepreach

When I was living with Ma Patra, each person present at the table said a scripture before we ate.  I was too little to understand exactly what we were doing.  All I knew was that before I could eat, I needed to say “Jesus wept.”  Now that I’m older, I know that it’s the shortest scripture in the Bible.  I was the youngest kid at the table, so the length of the verse fit me at the time. I don’t recall a time in life when my family hasn’t prayed over the food.  It’s what we do.  It’s who we are.  And as much as we like to eat, that means that we send lots of prayers up to God. Sometimes, my family members can use that as a time to catch up on all the time that they’ve missed talking to the Lord privately.  You don’t want the wrong person to volunteer to bless the food, because they are going to pray about all of life’s situations. Sometimes, the blessing of the food can cause uncontrollable laughter.  My cousin’s prayer on Super Bowl Sunday will go down in history as one of the most epic prayers of all time.  I laugh every time I think about his prayer. Sometimes, it reminds me of how blessed we are.  Nothing touched my heart more than Sweet Baby saying “Let’s pray” and listening to her lead the prayer. I’m grateful that I grew up rooted in prayer.  But the baby scripture that I quoted as a kid is not going to hold me today.  I’m so glad that I serve a God who delights Himself in communicating with me.  I take it for granted that I have direct access to Him through Jesus.  When the veil was torn, He gave me an open line to tell Him all of my fears…and all of my joy.  #wepreach

Although it doesn’t often look like it, I’m invested in my hair.  I mentioned previously that, at one point in my life, I wanted to be a pediatrician that did hair on the weekends.  I could spend hours on the weekend microbraiding my doll’s hair just for fun.  I perfected the side ponytail and would use my curling iron to “press” my new growth between relaxers.  Baby, I was all about my hair. When I started my professional career in 2007, I decided it was time to go natural.  I attempted to transition for about four months.  And when I say attempted, I really mean that I didn’t get a relaxer because people in Georgia were charging $60, and that wasn’t what I wanted to spend. In 2010, I got serious about letting go of my relaxed hair.  I would say that I transitioned for probably about 6 months.  That’s a long time to go without a relaxer.  Dealing with two different textures of hair was no picnic, but I didn’t want to be out in the streets bald.  It just didn’t seem like a good look for me. My mom did my big chop when I came home for the summer.  Let me tell you.  She was NOT on board with this decision.  Which is why it took her FOREVER to cut all the relaxed ends off.  We wet my hair.  You could clearly tell the natural from the relaxed, but I promise it took her an hour to perform this task. Then I was stuck with the decision I made.  I had time to adjust while at home in Arkansas.  At that time, I didn’t see many other women wearing their natural hair.  I stood out, and it made me uncomfortable. But can I tell you something?  I loved my hair.  I didn’t like the length, but I loved my hair.  It was nothing like I imagined it would be.  It was better.  Back in those days, there were not a lot of natural hair care lines out.  So, I went from hair store to hair store in Houston gathering ingredients for my hair concoctions.  I became a mixologist and researcher. Eventually, I found the products that worked well for my hair.  Eventually, my mom got so on board with my new style that she crossed over to the natural life.  Eventually, I got into a great routine with the hair that had been growing out of my head all along. I had to embrace who God made me, and that’s something I’m still working on.  When I reflect on how far He has brought me, I’m grateful.  I wasted so much money and time over the years trying to “correct” my hair.  Instead of appreciating what God gave me.  #wepreach

$225,000.  I got paid today, so it was time to sit down and figure out this bill situation.  It usually takes me awhile to decide how to disperse this money.  Although my bills are constant, my paycheck fluctuates.  I’m contract.  That means if I don’t work, I don’t get paid.  Missing one day of work hits differently when it means that you have to think about who is not going to get some money. If I was a GOOD steward of my money, this would not be such an issue.  I would have money tucked away for all of the rainy days and mishaps that are going to occur in life. I wouldn’t be living above my means. As mentioned previously, I’m working on being a good steward, but I have not yet arrived. Which brings us to today’s topic.  It’s been a couple of years since I calculated just how much I’m in debt.  I like to brush it off.  I typically pay more than the minimum on every bill.  That makes me feel fancy and sophisticated.  But I’m still in debt.  I even took Dave Ramsey’s course on Financial Freedom a couple of years back.  I did the homework assignments and went to class faithfully.  I told ya’ll I’m a good student. But faith without works is dead.  My financial situation is dead.  I need to be able to write a check for $225,000 to be debt free.  Looking at this bank account right now is not giving me much hope.  Looking at my past financial decisions is not cheering me up either. A couple of weeks ago, my cousin asked me if I was going to eat after Sweet Baby’s t-ball game.  I had already shared in the blog that my account was in the negative.  I had to remind her.  I wasn’t writing that to be cute.  I was being honest.  And as embarrassing as it was, it helped me to make some better decisions.  It made me more careful. So, I’m writing about my dead financial situation today in hopes that it motivates me.  God is all powerful.  I really just want to be one of those people that’s taking a picture with a sign that says how much debt I paid down. I don’t want be the girl that’s telling you how badly I want it to happen, because I know me and my tendencies. I KNOW that He can take care of my ugly financial situation.  I have to hand it to Him.  I’m going to do my part and watch Him take care of the rest.  #wepreach

Rats terrify me.  Especially the rats that took over my home.  I’m not being deep or poetic.  I’m being literal.  I closed on my home on February 29, 2016.  I was excited, but honestly, I was mostly thrilled that the fun surprises of buying a home were over.  Such a fool. My home was built from the ground up in 2008.  So, it’s fairly new.  Unfortunately, the previous owners had different ideas of what taking care of a home means.  The front door had an indentation from an ax.  Mold abounded in the vanity of the master bathroom because of a leak under the sink.  The carpet was all kinds of gross and provided an interesting aroma.  Clearly, they weren’t getting any rest in the master bedroom with that awful deep orange color on the walls. (Is that why they tried to chop their way out of the front door???) But I was okay with ALL of that, because I had a vision.  A grand idea of what my little fixer upper home in the hood would one day be.  My uncles, brother, and a couple of my cousins came to rip out all of the old carpet.  They got it done quickly.  I was impressed.  I had contractors coming in and out to give me estimates of what a total overhaul would cost.  I told them all about my grand vision.  Well, when those estimates came in, I had to pump the brakes.  My vision and my money were not in agreement. I was willing to wait and save my money so that I could have the remodeled home of my dreams.  I knew my mom would not have an issue with me staying with her while I got my funds together to make my house a home.  That plan worked fine until it didn’t.  I got mad, angry, upset, frustrated, enraged, if you will, with my mom and brother.  So, I moved into the unfinished house that I was paying the mortgage on. My master plan was to just never go into my mold infested master bathroom.  I kept the door to that bathroom shut.  As well as the door to the master bedroom shut.  I bought a filter fan and kept it running behind those closed doors to keep me from dying of mold poisoning.  And if I died from mold exposure, it was their fault! My plan worked until the day a rat the size of a 3-pound kitten walked into my living room.  I literally jumped over the back of my couch and ran outside leaving my front door wide open.  I called my brother as I stood in my front yard wearing my night gown with the holes in it.  I told him that I didn’t care what he was doing but he needed to come NOW!  My mom was next on my call list.  They both came. See while I had that room closed off, a situation was spinning out of control.  Rats were climbing up through the toilet from an open sewer line in my backyard.  The water was cut off to the toilet.  It was a wide-open freeway for vermin.  Rats had been living WITH me inside that house for who knows how long before they decided to make their presence known. What’s been living inside those closed off places of your heart?  Eventually all those things will make their presence known.  They will come out when you least expect it.  It won’t be pretty.  As a matter of fact, it may scare you so badly that you jump outside of yourself.  You’ll be like me.  Exposed in your nightgown with the holes in it.  And not caring.  Because dealing with what’s inside of you is scarier than being exposed to the world. The rats in my home are gone now.  Their appearance made me pray for money and God answered.  The construction took a full calendar year.  Way longer than I anticipated.  There were so many set-backs and decisions to be made along the way.  But it was worth it in the end. Let God remove all the vermin that are invading your heart.  Construction will take a while.  But you’re in the hands of a master carpenter.  #wepreach

I confessed Christ at Sam’s Club on a Saturday.  Way back when the Metroplex Event Center was a Sam’s Club.  “Confessing Christ” is just a fancy way of saying that I said out loud that I believed in Jesus Christ.  I wanted to claim Him as my own. I was helping my mom with our Saturday grocery selections.  In those days, my family had an addiction to Clearly Canadian, and Sam’s had it in bulk.  Just a little piece of heaven on earth.  Alright, I’ll get back to the point. I asked my mom why you had to be twelve to be baptized.  She told me that wasn’t true.  I suppose I was too smart for my own good.  We came from the country.  In the country, you sit on the mourner’s bench when you’re ready to be baptized.  My older cousins had been baptized in the creek at around twelve so that cemented a rule in my mind. Right in the middle of Sam’s Club, I verbalized my faith in Jesus Christ.  There was not a congregation.  Nobody played an upbeat song or beat on a tambourine.  But I was saved.  Instantly. My mom also plays by the rules, so she took me straight to the pastor’s office that next day.  He talked to me to see if I had a clear understanding.  At the end of service that day, my mom walked to the front of the church with me when the pastor opened the doors of the church.  Then he questioned me like we hadn’t just talked in his office.  I’m not gonna lie.  I was offended….kmsl.  I understand now, but back then I was wondering if there was something wrong with his memory. The day I got baptized was glorious.  All of Turkey Scratch came to see me get dipped in the water.  And I wasn’t in a creek.  They had a big pool with a clear glass window that was sitting high above the pulpit.  I was excited!  They put my shower cap on to preserve my side ponytail, and I got dipped under the water.  In my head, I came out white as snow.  I was clean.  I was delivered. You don’t HAVE to be physically dipped to be saved.  I was covered the moment I declared my love for Jesus Christ in Sam’s.  You don’t HAVE to be dipped in a muddy creek to be more authentic.  The dipping is a symbolic display of the death of the old you, and the resurrection of your new life in Christ.  You don’t HAVE to be baptized in a fancy pool high above a pulpit to feel redeemed.  His blood has already made you brand new. But you DO have to call on the name of Jesus for yourself.  You HAVE to confess with your mouth that Jesus IS Lord.  You HAVE to believe in your heart that Christ died and was resurrected for you.  And just like that, YOU become clean.  You are delivered. I’ve said before that people remember where they were when life changing events take place.  If you’re saved, do you remember where you were and what you were doing the day that you gave your life over to Christ?  Where did you confess Him?  Who was there?  What did you feel?  If you haven’t claimed Christ as your own, why not? My public declaration in Sam’s was hands down the best choice I’ve ever made.  #wepreach

Confidence is not my strongest trait.  When things get difficult or seem like they’ll be too hard, I have a tendency to retreat.  It’s a life pattern that I’m not proud of.  The more I reflect on my past, the more I see God’s hand pushing me to trust Him. I took Advanced Placement (AP) classes in high school.  I liked them because the grades carried extra weight.  Earning a “B” in an AP class had the same impact as earning an “A” in a regular class.  So, you could potentially have a GPA (grade point average) that’s higher than a 4.0. Mrs. Pickering was my AP English teacher for junior and senior year of high school.  She was tough.  A no-nonsense teacher who believed in her job.  She also believed in me. AP classes are really designed to prepare you to take the Advanced Placement exam for each subject.  If you receive a high enough score on the exam, you go into college with college credit.  Which saves you money and time. Although I took AP classes, I had NO INTENTION of taking the exams.  (See my pattern?)  The day for payment for the exam came.  Mrs. Pickering tracked me down, and I asked if I had the money.  “Ohhhhh, I forgot!”  She said, “Well, I’ll just write a check.  You’re taking the test.”  I panicked.  I wasn’t prepared! I had been in the classes, but I didn’t want to waste her money.  On top of that, I’d have to explain to my mama why I didn’t ask for the money for the exam. I took the test.  And guess what…I got the college credit.  Mrs. Pickering could see in me what I could not see in myself.  She wanted me to win and was willing to bet on me. Jesus did the same thing on Calvary’s cross.  He saw so much potential in you and me.  He paid the ultimate price so that we could have a chance to prove to Him that He was right.  I need to stop doubting my abilities.  I need to see in myself what He sees in me.  He has been preparing me for the next level.  I think I’m ready to be advanced.  #wepreach

Racism exists in the body of Christ.  And it’s unfortunate.  My Bible doesn’t read like there will be black section and white section in heaven.  But that’s how we worship here on earth.  Listen, I’m not talking about ya’ll.  I’m talking about me.  I’m a member of a black Baptist church.  I’ve always been a member of a black church.  Give me that saxophone, and the drums, and the organ, and the choir. (But ya’ll could turn the monitors down because I’m trying to preserve my hearing.) The interesting thing is that my first best friend was white.  We went to elementary school together.  Both of her parents were doctors.  She lived within walking distance of the school.  Sometimes, I’d go to her house after school, and the nanny would have our snacks waiting for us when we got there.  We took baths together.  We had sleepovers.  I’d go with her family to the lake. We did life together. Then elementary school ended.  At the time, I wanted to be a pediatrician and do hair on the weekends (don’t judge me) so my mom decided that Horace Mann Arts and Science Magnet was the best place for me.  I was FURIOUS!  She broke up the terrific twosome! We tried to keep our friendship intact.  But this was in the days before Facebook and social media.  We were just living two completely different lives.  And even when we got together, it wasn’t the same.  We were having two separate experiences. That’s the problem with the body of Christ.  We say that we serve the same God, but we’re having two separate experiences.  Living on this earth as a black woman is a completely different experience than living on this earth as a white woman.  I’ve told you before that I deal in facts, so let me give you some from my personal experience. When I first moved back to Arkansas, the clinical supervisor called me into the office.  I was doing home health at the time.  I had just finished my initial session with a new friend.  She wanted to know how the session went.  I told her it was fine.  She said “That’s good.  His mother really didn’t want you to be his therapist.  She called here after you called to set up his initial appointment and asked for someone that was easier to understand.  But I knew what she meant.  Let me know if you have any problems.” Excuse me…what????  Is this real life?  The crazy thing is that the mother never talked down to me or presented as anything other than pleasant.  It was only later that I found out that speech was the only therapy that he received in the clinic.  Everyone else provided his services in her home.  She probably had small group sessions in her home all the time.  She probably prayed fervently for others to come to know Jesus but had an illness on the inside that was eating her alive.  Blacks are in the minority in my profession, so I come across situations like this regularly.  I’ve been in another room and heard a therapist use the word nigger to add sauce to their conversation.  And not just one time…repeatedly.  So much so, that it made co-workers come to me and apologize on their behalf.  This same individual proudly proclaims a deep and unwavering faith in Christ Jesus. Does your friend circle look like heaven or is it segregated?  I’m a firm believer in upholding your own culture and traditions.  But I also believe that you can be friends with people who don’t look like you.  I’m not color blind.  I see my chocolate skin everyday when I look in the mirror.  I see your skin, too.  To be honest, I had issues becoming friends with Princess because I could see her skin.  That skin hasn’t always been nice to me or my people. But my God is bigger than the outside.  He looks at the heart.  I know that Princess has a heart for me and a heart for God.  That revelation didn’t come overnight.  IT WAS A PROCESS!!!  I don’t let many people in.  An initiation has to take place.  Check your own heart and feelings toward people of a different race.  Let God initiate a change in your heart.  #wepreach

I have been a member of three different, dynamic musical groups.  I told you my life was a musical!  Each group showcased a different stage of my growth and development.  Walk with me as I recount my musical highs and lows. I didn’t want to go to college.  It just seemed like such an insurmountable thing.  How are you supposed to know what you want to do with your life?  How do people even graduate from college?  My answer was to make it big in the summer between senior year of high school and freshman year in college. Set Apart was formed sometime in my high school days.  My Soul Sister and I were a dynamic duo.  We were rappers/singers on fire for the Lord.  Our one hit single was “Rock a Bye Baby.”  We recorded the tape on a tape recorder.  And we can still sing this song on command, or not on command.  The beat goes hard. When we didn’t make it big in summer between high school and college, we had a reformation.  We added a third member to our duo and became the trio known as DOVE (Daughters of Virtue and Excellence).  We would rehearse in the church.  Our debut performance involved lots of jumping, signs, and a flower petal explosion.  I envisioned us taking an album cover photo in all white in a field somewhere.  Sadly, it never came to pass. My current musical group is known as the Little Rock Southernaires.  We sing every Christmas at our home church of St. Luke in Turkey Scratch.  My brother wanders in and out of the group depending on what mood he’s in come performance time.  My mom is the choir director/soloist, and my cousins and I provide background vocals.  You will be impressed to know that my Day One sings soprano, alto, AND tenor.  Sometimes, at the same time. Thanks for walking down memory lane with me.  Are you using your talents?  The Bible says to make a joyful noise unto the Lord.  I’m always joyful when I’m singing, but I’m sure it can sound like noise to others…LOL!  #wepreach

Six years ago this November, a couple days after my 26th birthday, my uncle was shot and killed. I don’t often think about it. In fact, most days I just lock it away in the deep recesses of my mind. I seal any emotionally draining thoughts inside a vault of ironclad stoicism just so I can function. I do this so I don’t break down. Reality can be harsh sometimes. I stare in the mirror and wonder what it truly means to forgive.  And can’t seem to come up with an answer. Somewhere, deep inside me, it feels like defeat to say “Hey, I forgive you for murdering my uncle in cold blood. I no longer harbor any ill will towards you and your family. It’s ok.”  It’s not.  Or rather, I’m not. I struggle with this very deeply and often joke that being a “Scorpio” means that I don’t want revenge. What I actually want is to crush your very existence into dust. This is all a bit extreme.  I know.  And I promise you this all has a point. I remember sitting on the front pew of the church crying my eyes out in disbelief. My once favorite uncle was lying there lifeless in a casket. Looking not at all like himself. The only thing ringing in my head was one of our last interactions with one another. My cousin had brought her fiance/boyfriend at the time to meet him, and he had planned to ask my uncle for her hand in marriage. Well, what ended up happening was my uncle was in one of his “crazy” moods.  He decided that he felt like talking crazy to my cousin which, for me, was a no go. So I stood up to him, and we argued a bit before he asked me to step outside.  I ignored his taunt and stayed seated. Letting him see I wasn’t moved nor threatened, and the situation ended without any hands having to be thrown. Pissed doesn’t really describe what I was at him. It was more like disappointed. There was a time when this man could do no wrong in my eyes.  He made me feel like he was going to show me the world because he really cared for his nephew. He went from promising me he’d come and get me for a summer, to rambling nonsense that always made me mad. I just couldn’t comprehend why there’d been such a change. Now, none of that mattered. My last talks with him weren’t about love, how I missed him, or wanting to share with him how much I’d grown. It was anger. Jesus, in the face of anger, hate, disrespect, unbearable pain, exhaustion, and betrayal, looked up and said to God, “Forgive them Father, for they know not what they do.” In the darkest moment, He found a way to still do what needed to be done. It isn’t easy to forgive, and it’s even harder sometimes to figure out how. What I’ve learned over these years is that forgiveness isn’t about forgetting. It isn’t about revenge. It isn’t predicated on making the other person feel better. It’s simply allowing for God to be in control. Giving your pain, regrets, sadness, grief, and all other things to Him. It is realizing that in everything God has a plan. Don’t hold on to unforgiveness.  It will only keep you from the greater glory that’s on the other side.  Release it and allow God to show you why He’s in control and that He’s always there, even when you can’t understand His actions. It’s ok. You’re ok. Just follow His lead and all will be well.

Murder.  I told you in the first blog that it played into my story.  I couldn’t have ever imagined it in my circle.  That happens in big cities.  It happens in any good drama on television.  It doesn’t hit close to home, until it does. My uncle was murdered 6 years ago.  The man who shot him left him in an open field.  And my uncle died alone.  Ashes to ashes.  Dust to dust.  I could give you all the details, but I honestly don’t even have the capacity.  It’s an open wound that needs to be tended to, but I just leave it to fester. Is that healthy?  I know it’s not, but it’s so tender that I can’t stand for anyone to touch it.  His murder started one of the longest weeks of my life.  For the first time, I was at the funeral home looking at caskets, arrangements, song selections.  I told my mom that I couldn’t ever do this again.  How do people do this??? Thanksgiving came a couple of weeks after his death.  My cousin was sitting on the couch.  I glanced over at his face.  Were those tears?  “Are you crying?”, I asked.  “Yes, because we have an empty seat at the table this year.” My family is not big on crying.  Especially not the men.  We’re not unemotional, but we don’t just sit around crying and holding each other.  So, this shook me.  My mom would just randomly burst into tears.  Not just silent crying but literally bursting.  Loud and uncontrollable.  I felt helpless.  I feel helpless. What do you do when there is an empty seat at your table?  I don’t know.  I’m still trying to grasp the empty seat at mine.  I could tell you to lean and depend on God.  That’s true but sometimes it feels like a shallow answer.  Because I know that intellectually, but I’m still walking around here broken and bent. They say that not forgiving someone is like swallowing poison expecting the other person to die.  God is growing me in this area.  I don’t want to walk around with this festering wound forever.  So, keep me and my family in your prayers as we deal with the empty seat at our table. #wepreach

Kids say the darndest things.  I should know because my 9 to 5 puts me in close contact with them.  I had just started a session with one of my 2-year-old friends when she exclaimed, “I got panties on!”  Now, I’m the type of person that likes to deal in facts.  And this was new information to me.  So, I checked to see if her statement was based in reality.  Sure enough, she had panties on…over her pull up. I’m not a party pooper (as mentioned in “I Climbed a Mountain”) so I celebrated with my friend.  Congratulated her on being a big girl.  Cheered and yahoo-ed with her.  Then we got into our work.  We were playing with farm animals when an aroma began to permeate the room.  No, it was not the sweet fragrance of the Holy Spirit.  This stank.  It smelled like poop. So, I asked my dear, sweet friend with the panties on if she had pooped.  She nodded her head “yes” and then asked for some candy.   Clearly my angelic, precious friend had lost her mind.  REALLY??? But that’s how I do God.  Just as surely as I proclaimed that I was walking in obedience, a test came.  The usher tried to usher me up to the third row in service.  She was still walking when I sat down in the fifth row.  My cousin said, “Didn’t you just drop a post about obedience?”  We both laughed.    I’m an imperfect person in an imperfect world.  I’m striving to do better every day.  And that matters.  It makes a difference.  To the mother that is over wrestling her children into the car without cursing them out, you got this.  To the student who needs to dedicate more time to school, you’ll make it one day at a time.  To the perfect person who has no problems, bless your heart. I got panties on ya’ll!  Now let’s see how long I can keep them clean.  #wepreach               

Am I the only one that has a habit that they’re unaware of?  My cousins and I went to Shake’s one day to get some ice cream.  My little cousin got a flavor that I had never tried.  She said, “I would offer you some, but you gon gross me out with that noise you make.”  I was confused.  I demanded clarification.  She said, “You know that noise you make when you eat.  All that moaning and groaning.” This led to a full cousin council and debate.  They all insisted that I moaned when I ate food.  Particularly ice cream.  I needed people on my side.  So I called friends and asked if they ever noticed me moaning at meal time.  AND THEY HAD! I was outraged!  So ya’ll let me walk around on this earth making love to my food and didn’t say anything.  I started crying.  Child, it was a whole mess.  Because I flashed back to my freshman year of college.  My roommate’s boyfriend brought us some Frosty’s from Wendy’s.  I was sitting on my bed minding my business when he said “Dang, you making love to that ice cream ain’t you?”  And I got so mad at him.  I called him a pervert and everything.  How dare he? But he was telling me the truth.  I guess I couldn’t hear him because I wasn’t in relationship with him.  I felt that his view was distorted.  He didn’t know me like that. If you have friends that are doing something peculiar or out of the ordinary, tell them.  Especially if what they’re doing doesn’t match up with who God called them to be.  They may initially be angry or in denial, but they’ll eventually see the truth in your words. Ya’ll, I was for real hurt when I found out that not only did I love food but I was making my feelings known to the world.  I had to train myself to stop moaning when around others.  I’m laughing so hard when I type this but it was a legitimate struggle.  Before I put food in my mouth, I would say to myself “You know it’s gonna be good.  Just say ‘this is good.’”  At times, I would forget and a moan would start and I’d turn it into a cough. It’s been a process.  #wepreach

My brother and I could not have more different learning to read stories.  I was a fluent reader by the age of four.  Keep in mind that I was raised by the village while my mom was in college.  And that Ma Patra valued education. My village included two aunts that were teachers.  Neither one of them played around about ANYTHING.  And I was inquisitive.  I constantly asked what billboards, signs, and books said.  I NEEDED TO KNOW!!!  There was whole world going on around me, and I felt left out. So out came the red books.  It wasn’t hard.  I loved it!  I had found my thing.  I was such a great reader that my kindergarten teacher would give me books to read to the class while she did paperwork. I love to read.  My mom would take us to the library every week when we were little.  We were able to check out five books each.  And I would devour them.  My grandma took us to the library every week in the summer while we stayed in St. Louis.  I have been a library member of every city that I’ve moved to as an adult.  Buying books was too expensive.  I read them too quickly. I didn’t have much interaction with my biological father growing up.  But I do remember him giving me $100 for my birthday one year.  What do you think I did with the money?  I bought a bike…and books! Did I mention that I love reading?  So, it’s a little distressing that I haven’t been able to read lately.  I can read the Bible, my Sunday School book, and my book for Wednesday night class, but that’s it.  It’s the weirdest thing ever.  The only conclusion I’ve come to is that God doesn’t want me to confuse any voice with His own.  That I need to be clear headed and level minded.  Whatever it is, it’s greater than me.  It’s bigger than me.  It’s exceedingly and abundantly above all that I can ask or think.  #wepreach

We don’t get to choose our family.  And we don’t get to choose our divine connections.  God places special people in our lives who help push us towards our destiny.  Let me introduce you to just a few of the people who will be featured in my blog at some point. Bestie-  She may not pray for herself or anyone else, but I know she prays for me.  Because I’m a real fool and handful at the same time.  Being my friend can be exhausting.  In our 20’s, she regularly had to say to me “We may not be friends after this, but I’m going to tell you what’s right.”  She’s had to pull that out of retirement in 2019.  (LOL, for real!) Day One-  She named me.  At five years old.  That’s what happens when you have a teen mom.  She puts her faith in little people.  Thankfully, I love my name.  Really, she was just exercising one of her spiritual gifts at a young age.  My name is a derivative of Sarah and means “princess.”  She put this crown on my head before I ever breathed air. Mom-  Without her, there is no me.  I poke fun at her and tease her all the time.  I feel like it’s one of my life missions.  But she keeps me afloat.  She climbs in the bed with me and rubs my back when I’m crying.  She watches Hallmark movies with me.  Takes me to the best restaurants.  Reminds me that I’m special.  She champions my blog excessively…to my embarrassment. Grandma (Boolie)-  This lady is a ring tailed tooter, whippersnapper, and whatever other name you can think of to describe someone who is just plain sassy.  I think I get my spunk from her.  She believes that I can do anything and will move mountains to make sure I’m taken care of.  Even though I’m 36. Princess-  I did not like her.  I did not like her.  I did not like her.  I put her on the prayer list every week when I was meeting with my BSG’S (Bible Study Girls).  She was focused on her money, and I was a threat to that money.  But somehow, she ended up being one of my dearest friends.  I know she prays for me and worries about me.  I’m forever grateful that I didn’t let my initial perception of her ruin a potential for friendship. BSG’S- Bible Study Girls.  The crew that walked through valleys and skipped up mountains with me.  We met weekly for at least two years.  A one-time Bible study grew into a family.  And we were not a group of girls who couldn’t get a man.  Pretty girls and young girls love Jesus too.  It wasn’t about religion.  It was about real relationship.  We were honest about our fears, flaws, and failures.  We were desperate for a right now relationship with God. I don’t know where I would be currently without the few divine connections that I’ve mentioned.  I have millions more that I’ll share as the blog grows, but I thought I’d give more insight to the people that have challenged me and helped me to know Jesus in a real way. I pray that everyone has a circle that they know has been given to them by God.  If you didn’t before today, you do now!  I’m your divine connection.  I’m praying that you get to know God for yourself.  That you know you’re not alone in the struggle that’s life.  #wepreach

Who do you look like?  Are your family genes strong?  Do people look at you and say “I know that’s one of the Johnson’s!”  My family has powerful genes.  When people first see me with my cousins, they can have strong reactions.  In my opinion, the resemblance isn’t that spectacular.  I guess because I grew up around them.  They look like themselves, and I look like myself. This happens most often when I’m with Tomica.  We go to church together and sit beside each other.  At our old church, Tomica faithfully stood in front of the church every Sunday and read the announcements.  She interacted with the pastor frequently, and he knew her by name.  When I moved back to Little Rock, I reunited with the church.  The pastor was just starting at the church when I moved to Georgia, so I didn’t have any real connection with him.  One day, Tomica missed church.  The band started playing the music for the announcements.  The pastor was staring at me from the pulpit.  I stared back at him.  It was like a showdown in a Western movie.  Then it dawned on me….he thought I was Tomica! I could probably shake off our resemblance if that was a one-time incident.  But it happens frequently.  She’ll tell me about somebody that said something to her in a store, and she knows they thought they were talking to me.  Even at our current church, people get us confused.  There are glaring differences in our appearance.  I have color in my hair.  She’s taller.  I have a big bouncy butt.  Her hair curls are much looser than mine.  You get the picture.  But there continues to be confusion. Do people ever look at you and the way you live your life and literally see Christ?  Can they see Christ in the way that you serve others?  Will they see Christ in the way you do your job?  Will they notice your resemblance to Him when you’re driving, shopping, or lunching with friends?  When you disagree with someone’s opinion, do they walk away with an impression of a loving God?  Or is there confusion about who you really serve? We are created in God’s image and likeness.  We are His representatives on earth.  So, we should look, and sound, like Him.  Of course, there will be glaring differences because we’re not Him.  But is there enough of a resemblance that someone will say “I know that’s a Christian!”  #wepreach

We aren’t born knowing what expectations we should have for ourselves. It isn’t something you just stumble across by serendipity. In fact, it’s more like osmosis. There was a special summer I spent with my grandmother the year before I started elementary school. My sister and I would get to go swimming, devour amazing meals, and go to the library, amongst other things. The library was significant because I’d get to enjoy videos of my favorite characters, Winnie the Pooh, etc., which allowed my imagination to explode into the cosmos. “What does this word mean?” or “Ooo, I like the way this character sounds.” The thing I didn’t realize was my grandmother had no intention of continuing to let me just watch.  At some point, it was going to be time to start reading instead of watching. So it began with her asking me to sound out a couple words.  Nothing major or anything. Needless to say, this didn’t go over well with 5-year-old me. I had no expectation that I could read, and the way we were doing things was already perfection in my eyes. So eventually,after many wars, whoopings, and wishing it was all over and done with, the summer was almost over. I thought I’d finally won and would just be able to be dumb as I’d requested in the middle of battle at some point. My grandmother told me something to the effect that “I won’t have a grandson in school who can’t read.” I knew it would be unwise to fight her and felt like I should at least try once more before throwing a fit or accepting punishment. I stared intently at the words. Without knowing it, I began reading without much of a hitch or anything. When I finally caught on to the fact that I was doing it I yelled out “I CAN READ!! I CAN READ!! CALL MOMMY AND DADDY I CAN READ!!” I couldn’t believe it I was doing it. I could do it. Me, the kid who’d spent all summer kicking and screaming and telling myself what I couldn’t do, was doing that which I felt impossible. All because my grandmother expected me to do so and KNEW I could do so. God does this with us all the time. He has given us all talents and things that only we can do. Some things may be similar but, God only made one you. One perfect you. We often find ways to say “Well I can’t do this because so and so is doing it,” or we find ourselves incapable and there’s no way He’s asking me.  He has to be talking to Sister Johnson or Brother Samuel. If we stop for a second to stop fighting against that which He’s leading us to do…expecting and knowing we can do…the results would be glory and blessings unseen and unfathomable.  -Bible Study Brother

Nobody wants me and Tomica to be on the same team when we have game night.  Because we’re winners.  And if we’re on the same team, we’re unstoppable.  That’s not bragging. It’s just facts. My co-worker was telling me about a soccer team that won a game.  There was controversy because of how well they played.  The opposing team was no match for them, and people thought they should have been more gracious.  They should not have beaten the other team so spectacularly. I have a different opinion.  Why should I dim my light because you can’t match up to me? I’m sure my opinion threw her off because she knows “Work Sareta.”  “Work Sareta” and “Game Night Sareta” are two VASTLY different people. “Work Sareta” is uninterested in getting involved in the day to day workplace drama.  Whoever wants to be the big cheese can do so with no protest from me.  I will go with the flow and operate in the spirit of teamwork.  Not leading.  I just want to do whatever will help the team. “Game Night Sareta” CAME TO WIN!  I had to give a new team mate a speech and let them know that they were on a winning team.  Which was really code for “you better give it your all….or else.”  I take game night seriously. I need to take my life with Christ seriously.  When he conquered death and the grave, He gave me the ultimate victory.  I’ve already won.  I’m on a winning team.  There is no failure in Him. Let’s be real though.  Satan is not going to stop trying to steal, kill, and destroy because he’s beating my tail so badly.  He’s not going to say, “That’s enough guys.  She’s had enough.” Play to win.  Because you’ve already won, if you’ve accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior.  You’re on the right team.  You’re unstoppable.  That’s not bragging. It’s just facts.  #wepreach

I’m fat.  I have a serious passion/addiction/obsession with food.  I eat when I’m happy.  I eat when I’m sad.  I eat when I’m bored.  I eat because it’s Monday.  I eat because it’s 3:25. You get the picture. I realized that I was depressed when I had no appetite at all.  I can ALWAYS eat.  (See the above requirements for eating.)  Until the day, I couldn’t.  I had no desire.  I had no fight.  I could tell that my mom and brother were worried about me.  “You’re not going to eat???”  So, I would eat when they were around.  Not much, but enough to make them stop staring at me.  Food had no flavor.  Life had no flavor. I’m fat.  I sit and eat God’s good Word every Wednesday and Sunday.  I fill up on YouTube sermons and inspirational words.  I listen to gospel music and sing myself happy.  But all that eating and no exercising made me fat. Eating God’s Word is excellent AND necessary.  But so is walking in His Word.  The Bible tells us to “work out our own salvation WITH fear and trembling.”  And I hadn’t been doing that until recently.  Ya’ll know I don’t like working out, and here it is in black and white in the Bible! Maybe you’re like I was in my season of depression and have no appetite for God’s Word.  That’s a serious issue and needs to be addressed.  Your spiritual life is in crisis.  If you’re not hungry for the Word, you need to check to see where your relationship with Christ stands. Maybe you’re fat like me and content to just eat all the time.  That’s a problem too.  WORK OUT YOUR SALVATION.  Let’s stop stuffing in God’s word and not living our lives for Him. Nobody told us it would be easy.  I’m working on my physical body as well as my spiritual one with fear and trembling.  Every keystroke and squat is me giving myself over to Him. #wepreach

These blogging topics come from some of the most mundane situations in my life.  We were decorating for my aunt’s 65th birthday party.  My cousin was working on a balloon arch and made a comment.  Then she said, “Is that a word?” The word she used is an actual word.  I too was wondering if it was an actual word.  I knew what she was trying to say, but the word she used didn’t fit the situation.  It didn’t match up with what she was trying to explain.  The word was taken out of context. We do that with the messages that God gives us. I was at the women’s empowerment brunch for my church.  When we walked in, we were given sealed envelopes and told not to open them.  Later during the brunch, we were told to exchange our envelopes with other women at least 3 times. An older lady exchanged envelopes with me.  She was my fourth exchange.  She opened it, and it said something like “My marriage/family is blessed.”  That was supposed to be my envelope!  I really felt robbed when I opened mine and it said, “I have something special to offer the world.”  Come on now, Lord.  Here I stand, wanting a family of my own, and THIS is what’s in my envelope? But it was MY envelope.  I wanted that other Word, but this was the Word that He had for me.  I was just taking it out of context.  I got some other direct messages from God during the women’s brunch.  He was pursuing me and pushing me.  I came home and typed out the first blog post.  When I went to open my website, it asked for a tag line. Ummmmmm…..there it was.  The Word that I got just that day at the women’s brunch.  The Word that I was taking out of context. “I have something special to offer the world.” Don’t be like me.  Don’t try to take God’s word and make it fit into your situation.  It won’t sound right when you say it out loud.  Be still and let your desires for your life match up with His desires for your life.  You’ll be better.  #wepreach

My pastor always says that you should be a member of a church where you’re going AND growing.  For many of us, church membership is having your name on a roll somewhere.  You watch church faithfully every Sunday on the internet.  You may even send them your church “dues” or your tithes.  So why is it important to physically go to a church AND mature spiritually? Before I joined my current church, I didn’t go to church for 6 months.  I have always gone to church.  Grew up in church.  Loved the Lord.  Rah-rah, sis, boom, bah.  I was the kid in high school that brought her Bible to lunch to do Bible study.  Jesus was my everything.  So, what made me stop attending church? I experienced church hurt.  I was tired of being good, and nice, and kind to people in the church and not getting the same thing back.  I was also just physically tired.  When you belong to a small church, you can feel like you must do everything and be in every ministry.  And that’s draining.  And not what God called us to do. God has called us to be in community with other believers.  Being a part of a community means that we should be invested in others lives.  That’s hard to do from your couch.  It’s easy to get caught up in technology and forget that we need physical fellowship with Christians.  Honestly, I wish that I could phone it in on many days, but that’s not God’s plan. Some of you may get up and go to a church faithfully, but you’re not growing.  You go because that’s what you’re supposed to do on Sundays.  I guess you’re content.  But your life is not changing.  It’s sad to leave out the same way that you came in.  Jesus died so that we could have life and have it more abundantly.  So believe that! Be a member of a church where you’re going AND growing!  If your car broke down, you’d get it repaired.  It’s hard to manage your busy schedule without a working car.  Your church home is a lot like your car.  It can help you get to your destination a lot more quickly than walking alone can.  #wepreach

Anybody a fan of TLC’s TV show, “Say Yes to the Dress?”  I am.  I love to watch women find the wedding dress of their dreams.  They get to bring family and friends with them to help them decide on the perfect fit.  Randy is a very popular fashion director on the show.  Brides scream with joy when he shows up to help with their appointment. I got to have my own “Say Yes to the Dress” moment at Low’s Bridal in Brinkley.  I was preparing for my wedding and wanted to look my best.  My mom and three friends were there to help me figure out the perfect look.  I went in with some ideas in mind but was open to whatever look the consultant thought would fit my body shape. I tried on dress after dress.  I’m a glitter girl and wanted to sparkle from head to toe.  BRING ME BEADS, AND GLITTER, AND GLAM!  But they didn’t really look right on me.  Beautiful dresses but just not right.  Then the consultant said, “Alright I’m pulling this dress for you.  I think’s it the one.”  Let me tell you, when I saw the dress on the hanger, I thought “Really??”  However, I know from life experience that things often look better on the body so I gave it a try. As she was lacing the corset back (which I definitely didn’t want), she started to sing “This is it!”  I didn’t share her enthusiasm.  Until I walked out of the dressing room and stood on the podium.  THIS IS IT!  It’s nothing that I wanted, but my Lord, I LOOKED BEAUTIFUL!  SOLD! I said yes to the dress on Friday, but by Tuesday, I was saying yes to God.  See, planning a wedding is second nature to me.  I love parties, and food, and flowers.  I love pretty things. I love being pretty.  What I struggle with is being obedient to God’s voice. I knew I had no business marrying this man.  God clearly told me “no,” but I thought I knew best.  I like to push issues with God.  Toe the line.  Try to get Him to see things my way.  Clearly, it doesn’t work like that.  So God spoke loudly and clearly to me on Tuesday, and I had to send out a text to say “sike, I’m not getting married.” How embarrassing.  Humiliating.  Gut wrenching.  But necessary.  How difficult.  Humbling.  Stressful.  But liberating.  It’s never a good idea to say “yes” to a dress but “no” to God.  I hear in church all the time that obedience is better than sacrifice.  I now have a personal story that reminds me daily to be obedient. So what do you do with a beautiful wedding dress that’s just hanging in your closet?  Sell it?  Put it on and eat ice cream and cry in it?  Give it to someone in need? I kept it.  God gives us beauty for ashes.  I caused a firestorm with my disobedience, but God is gracious.  This is the dress I will wear when I marry the man God has for me.  The dress that I thought wasn’t my style has become a symbol of how much God loves me.  Obedience looks good on me, and I’m choosing to walk in it every day. #wepreach

My bank account is in the negative.  I have a great paying job.  So great, that when I get my 1099 every year, I’m always amazed.  It never seems like I made that much money the previous year.  So how did I get here?  Poor management. In the past, when I got paid, I would literally spend one to two hours going over my budget and how I wanted to pay my bills.  Not because of lack.  I wanted to make sure that I was making the best choices with my money.  I was very responsible ya’ll.  I would pay my tithes, pay all my bills and then say you have x amount of dollars to go hog wild with. And go hog wild, I did.  If someone needed help with a bill, no problem.  Your baby needs some shoes?  Got that too.  Vacation time?  I’m the first one to pay.  Work hard, play hard.  Did somebody say food????  Let’s go to all the restaurants! The problem is that God didn’t tell me to do that.  I gave Him His 10%.  So, in my mind, the rest belonged to me.  That’s not true.  It’s ALL His, and He wants me to be a good steward over everything that He gave me.  I need to spend time listening to Him to direct my financial choices. I also need to spend time listening to Him to direct my spiritual choices.  He deposits so much good Word into my life, and I’m still walking around negative.  Ouch!  Have you ever met a negative Christian?  Are you the negative Christian? Those words don’t really belong together.  We have a great Father who supplies all our needs, so why are we negative?  Poor management.  We’re not being good stewards over the tools He gave us.  Instead of speaking life, we constantly say what can’t be done.  Instead of walking in faith, we let fear rule and reign.  Instead of hoping, we doubt. My bank account is not going to stay in the negative.  I’m ready to be a good steward of all that He provides for me.  When I get paid……before I get paid…..while I’m working, I’m asking God how He wants me to use my money.  I’m going to ask God how He wants to use me.  I’ll keep you posted. #wepreach

Why the #wepreach hashtag?  It was not my idea.  My pastor preached a sermon about Naaman.  Naaman was a commander of the army of the king of Syria.  He was very successful, but he had leprosy.  And he wanted to be healed. A servant girl told him about a prophet in Israel who was performing great miracles.  People were getting healed from their diseases.  Naaman wanted in.  He traveled to Israel to meet the prophet.  Elisha, the prophet, didn’t come out of his house but sent a messenger to Naaman and told him to go wash in the Jordan River seven times to be healed. Naaman was furious.  First of all, Elisha didn’t even have decency to come out of the house to meet him.  Naaman was a man of great importance.  How rude!  Secondly, Elisha didn’t do any fancy tricks or gimmicks.  Isn’t that how everybody gets delivered?  Isn’t that how miracles are performed?  And lastly, who wanted to wash in the Jordan River?  It’s gross!  He was just going to keep getting nasty.  It made no sense. Fortunately, Naaman had some servants with sense.  They challenged him.  They pointed out to him that the prophet hadn’t asked him to do something hard.  As a matter of fact, if the prophet had asked him to do something extraordinary, he would have been jumping at the chance to do it. My pastor emphasized the fact that the people around Naaman encouraged him to get his breakthrough.  We don’t know the names of the servant girl or the servants that traveled with him.  But they changed Naaman’s life for the better.  My pastor challenged us to share the good news of Jesus with people throughout the week.  Not just for one week but as a lifestyle.  That’s how this blog was born. It doesn’t take long for me to sit down and share what I’m going through and how God is moving in my life.  But it does take faithfulness and trust.  God has given me a simple task, and I know that it’s going to turn my life around just like it did for Naaman.  #wepreach

Something happened to me.  On a Wednesday night at church.  I was minding my business.  The guest preacher had finished his sermon and was calling people to the altar for prayer.  He called on people who needed prayer for depression, financial issues, health…..you get the picture.  I needed prayer for all those things, but I did what I usually do.  I stretched my hands up and said “Lord, you can send your healing right on to this pew.  You know what I’m in need of.”  People went back to their seats after the prayer, and then he said that God wanted him to pray for business owners. My body instantly shot up.  I stepped over my cousins and went straight to the altar.  This was a safe prayer. A no judgement prayer.  A name it and claim it and ain’t no shame in it prayer.  Or so I thought.  Because the next words out of his mouth were, “Bring the oil.” SKKKKKR!!!!!! (That’s my record screech sound) Wait, wait, wait.  Several things went through my head: You had all those other folks up here for prayer and never pulled out this oil. If you had been slinging oil from the beginning, I would have not gotten up from that pew. Dang, I can’t go back to my seat. Let me be clear.  I believe in oil being used but I haven’t ever been a member of a church where it’s a regular practice.  So many times, I feel like people bring out the oil because they want you to put on a show.  And I don’t believe in play acting unless I’m on a real stage. But the sermon that he had preached that night was about David and how he slayed Goliath.  It was a fixed fight.  Do you know about David?  David is often described as a man after God’s own heart.  And I’ve struggled with understanding how God could call and love a man who did so much messed up stuff.  Samuel is sent to anoint the next king of Israel.  He looks at all of David’s brothers and the Lord says “nope, not them.”  Samuel asks Jesse if he has any more sons.  Jesse says, “Yeah, my baby boy is out in the field tending the sheep.”  So they sent for David.  And when David came, the Lord told Samuel to anoint David, for he was the one.  And then the oil began to flow. All of that flashed through my mind as I was standing at the altar.  The guest preacher began to prophesy that lives would be changed in 21 days.  He began to anoint all the business owners who came for prayer.  And he skipped me.  He asked if he missed anyone.  At this point, I had to raise my hand.  I wanted that oil.  Not because I wanted wealth.  But because I needed God’s anointing on my life. The oil wasn’t flowing for everyone before then because it wasn’t their time.  I knew in my soul that God was telling me that He wants greater out of me.  And I made up my mind to trust Him.  Ya’ll I’m messed up just like David, but for some reason, He’s calling me.  And I know it’s Him. My prayer for everyone is that they can stay the course.  One day, God is going to let the oil flow over your life.  We may have to walk down the aisle.  We may have to set aside our preconceived notions.  We just might have to raise our hands.  But I’m persuaded that we’ll all be in position when He decides to bring the oil. #wepreach

People always remember where they were when they experience life changing events.  I was laying on my couch in Houston when my mother called to tell me that my great-grandmother, Ma Patra, had passed away.  I had just seen her the weekend before, so it wasn’t a surprise.  I knew it was coming.  Cancer had taken its toll on her body.  She was ready for rest. And she deserved rest.  Ma Patra raised my grandmother, mother, and me (for the first five years of my life).  My mom delivered me three days after her high school graduation.  Ma Patra believed in education so off to college my mom went.  I saw my mom all the time and knew that she was my mom, but the bulk of my day to day raising fell on Ma Patra. She taught me the art of side eyeing people.  She would sit on the couch and be fast asleep, but if you said something, she’d let you know she was just “resting her eyes.”  I loved her laugh and I LOVED her cooking.  Her biscuits let you know that there is a God.  The food from her plate always tasted better than the food from my own plate.  And she let me eat from her plate with no complaints.  With her, I knew what love looked, acted, and felt like. Don’t get me wrong.  She wasn’t perfect.  She walked right into a sliding glass door trying to get to the balcony so that she could look at the beach.  She laughed and said, “That glass is sooo clean.”  It was even funnier when somebody else did the same thing a little while later.  (In their defense, whoever cleaned that room did it with the spirit of excellence) She’s been gone for eleven years today and I still miss her so much.  I’m typing this blog wrapped in a blanket that she sewed for me.  Even though her physical body is not here, she left such a strong legacy.  She set a high standard for what living for Christ looked like.  Without using church language, she showed me what being sold out for God meant.  I pray that my family continues to honor her life and legacy by being the hands and feet of Christ on this earth.  In her words, “Soap and water will clean everything but a dirty heart.”  #wepreach

I climbed a mountain.  I’m not being deep or spiritual.  I mean that I literally climbed a mountain.  To fully appreciate the fact that I made it to the top, you need some background.  I’m not into exercise.  When people are in exercise class grunting and feeling the burn, you can catch me going along until it’s over.  Listen, I know I need exercise but I’m generally not going at it full steam ahead.  The instructor would not be calling me to the front to lead the class while they get a little break.  So now that we’re on the same page, I can continue my story. Tomica and I were visiting my bestie.  They got it into their heads that we were going to climb Stone Mountain.  I’m a laid back, go with the flow kind of gal.  Especially on vacation. I’m not a party pooper so I didn’t object.  They have always had an exercise connection.  I admire that about them.  Tomica was at the height of her healthy lifestyle change, and I fully supported that.  I wanted her to win.  So off to Stone Mountain we went. The best part of this story is that I had no intention of climbing this mountain.  Yup, you read that right….NO INTENTION OF CLIMBING THE MOUNTAIN.  My master plan was that they would get so caught up in their exercise that they would forget about me.  I was going to wave them on ahead and tell them that I’d catch up with them later.  And then I’d be able to people watch which IS one of my favorite activities. God and the bestie had other plans.  I waved them on ahead and thought “Success!”  I sat on a rock, caught my breath, and watched people.  And then in the distance, I saw bestie coming back.  I cursed in my head but smiled at her.  And then the epic battle began.  We went back and forth, but she would not take “no” for an answer.  “Didn’t you say you want to be healthy?”  “I’m not pushing you around in a wheelchair if they have to cut off your toes!” This went on all the way up the mountain.  I would stop to catch my breath, and she would wait patiently until I felt ready to continue.  I was so out of shape and just felt not cut out for this task.  I know I looked horrible because many people coming back down would ask if I was ok, and she would say “She’s fine.”  I didn’t even have enough energy to whisper “help me” to the strangers…LOL.  And then we made it to the top.  Was it worth it?  Yes.  Because I did what I had no intention of doing when we all set out on the journey.  I can apply this to my spiritual life as well and so can you.  I’m sure you have friends that you go to church with every Sunday who are just going along to get along.  They don’t really believe that God can do what He says He’s going to do.  But they’re not going to hinder your praise or your belief in Him. Be the bestie that pushes somebody to do more than they thought they ever could.  Be Tomica and go for what you know is yours.  Because she went on ahead, she was able to record my journey up the mountain.  She was able to memorialize a really precious moment in my friendship with my bestie and my walk with Christ.  Please know that it took time for me to get to the point that I recognized it as a precious moment.  I was angry and too tired to fight at the same time. Surround yourself with people who pray with you and push you.  Surround yourself with people who are at the top of mountains that you don’t think you can climb.  Whatever mountain is in your life, know that you can climb it.  Whether it’s a literal mountain or a spiritual one.  #wepreach

“For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14 My bestie asked me if I had ever thought about writing a book. It wasn’t her first time asking me. I gave her my usual answer…”nope.” What did I have to write about? Then I asked her if she had ever thought of writing one. She said she had a story to tell, but she wasn’t compelled to write it down. Our conversation brought to mind the first Bible study we ever did together. We spent 10 weeks together with a group of ladies meeting in my apartment diving into the study of Esther written by Beth Moore. We laughed, we cried, we ate, we shared, and we came to know Jesus in a much more personal way. In one of the lessons, Beth Moore shares that our lives are continuations of the books of the Bible. Talking to my bestie made that revelation flood back. I do have a story to tell. The book of Sareta is still being written, but so far, it’s been a cliffhanger. Murder, betrayal, comedy, musical, and drama all wrapped up in one misshapen package. As a general rule, I’m an introvert. Just give me a book and a comfy place to sit. But God has been pushing me in so many ways to tell my story. For His glory. In my infinite wisdom (eyeroll to myself), I’ve been pushing back. You may or may not know this, but God is so much stronger than I am. I’m surrendering to His will for my life. I don’t know who will read this blog. And that’s really not my concern. I just have to be obedient to His voice. I have to walk in the gifts that He has given me and know that He will take care of the rest. It’s hard to be transparent because people WILL judge me. I know because I’m people…LOL. I’ve just reached a point in my life that I’m more concerned about God’s judgement. If you’re saved but still have moments of doubts, my story might appeal to you. If you love Jesus but people get on your last nerves, my story matches up with yours. If you love Jesus and struggle with respecting your body as a temple, my story may resonate. And if you don’t love Jesus, my story is ESPECIALLY for you. Because even with all my mess, Jesus still loves me. He didn’t die for perfect people. He died for people like you and me. So bestie, this is my foreword to the story that is me. This is your public acknowledgement. Clearly God has called me for “such a time as this,” and I’m excited to see what He has in store. #wepreach

Bible Study Brother leads a Bible Study on the book of Psalms. This is a must-listen for creatives! #wepreach #bsgpodcast #biblestudygirl #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

It’s Blog Recap time! Bible Study Girl and Bible Study Brother relate experiences of how God is shaping and molding them. #wepreach #bsgpodcast #biblestudygirl #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

Blog Recap time! Bible Study Girl and Bible Study Brother recap the blog “False Evidence Appearing Real.” Do you walk by faith or sight? #wepreach #bsgpodcast #biblestudygirl #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

Bible Study Brother and Bible Study Girl discuss the importance of Resurrection Sunday to them. #wepreach #bsgpodcast #biblestudygirl #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

It’s blog recap time!!!! This blog was originally published in November 2019 and remains relevant today. Bible Study Girl and Bible Study Brother discuss running their own race. #wepreach #biblestudygirl #bsgpodcast #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

It’s our VERY first Bible study episode! We dig into Proverbs 3:5-6. The whole discussion blessed us immensely. #wepreach #biblestudygirl #bsgpodcast #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

What are your gifts and how do you use them? #wepreach #biblestudygirl #bsgpodcast #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

This blog recap forced us to think outside the lines and color outside the box. #wepreach #bsgpodcast #biblestudygirl #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

We had a time talking with Kyuana about her faith journey!!! We talked bridging the gap between the older and younger generations and how Kyuana’s faith has transformed over the years. #wepreach #bsgpodcast #biblestudygirl #season4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/

We are celebrating the birthday of Bible Study Mama in today’s podcast. #wepreach #biblestudygirl #bsgpodcast #season 4 Read Blog Posts Every Day https://www.biblestudygirl.com Follow BibleStudyGirl Here: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/_biblestudygirl/ Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/biblestudygirl2 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/biblestudygirl2019 Email: Biblestudygirl2019@gmail.com Follow BibleStudyBrother Here: Music: https://lnk.to/icarusgray YouTube: www.youtube.com/icarusgray Twitch: www.twitch.tv/icarus_gray Instagram: @GrayAreaAnime  @Icarus_Gray Twitter: @IcarusGray  @GrayAreaAnime1 Freedom Book: https://citycentral.org/shop Saprea Retreat (for adult women who have survived childhood sexual abuse): Saprea.org/saprea-retreat/