Ok let me preface this post by saying it's about a topic that most of us don't like to talk about... death and funerals. But not in a creepy way (cause that creeps me out), but more of a testimony of how I've overcome my irrational, albeit merited fear of them. Carry on...
Over the past year 5 years I've gone to about 10 funerals and I survived most of them without major incident. Now I know you may be saying to yourself "So, what's the big deal?", but for someone who used to literally be sick and frozen with fear at the very thought of caskets and such, this is a personal triumph.
You see when I was a child I had a few traumatic, and some comedic experiences at wakes and funerals. I personally believe I suffered from a splash of PTSD, but that is a self-diagnosis. But once you understand why, I think you'll agree.
The very first wake I ever went to was in the small country church in the town where my grandparents lived. (One stop light, one power pole, Mayberry kinda town.) A very popular lady in the community had passed and she was also my mother's godmother. I was 7 at the time and no one explained to me what exactly we were going to. All I knew of wakes was from TV. So I'm thinking a coffin, a flower or two, and a nice picture on an easel. Imagine my shock to walk into this church and see a dead person at the front!!! (Even at that age I'm sure I cussed in my mind long before I understood that was the appropriate response.) I never walked up to the casket out of pure fear and confusion, but there were people everywhere and somehow I ended up in the lounge of the ladies room. It seemed like a safe place to be. The children's choir was singing, and I had actually calmed down. Until it happened... THE CHURCH WENT DARK!!! PITCH BLACK!!! Inside and outside there was not a flicker of light anywhere to be found. Street light, porch lights, cigarette lighters nothing. Now for a 7yr old who slept with a night light as it was, this was the worse thing that could've happened. I froze. To this day I can't tell you what happened for the next few minutes or how I got out of that church. The next thing I remember was somehow ending up in the car with my daddy and my sister (who was a wee tot) listening to the radio. I don't remember crying, screaming or anything... just traumatized. From that point on I was done with dead folks... and it seemed to only get crazier as the years went by.
I went to what we thought was a wake and it ended up being a night time funeral, then when we viewed the body he looked NOTHING like the person we were told it was supposed to be. Seriously, how does a man who was lighter than me, somehow end up being dark chocolate in his casket??? Still not convinced that was him.
Went to a service once where the casket wasn't closed all the way and my mom thought me and my sister were just seeing things out of our fear... yeah not so much. It wasn't closed and when we saw the person in the casket with a winter coat on we understood why!!!
I've pumped myself up to go support a bereaved family, thought I was doing ok, til I got ready to sign the guest registry only to grab the pen and began shaking so hard it looks as though a 3yr old had scribbled in the book. FAIL!!!
And of course because I am the clown that I am I have sat in funerals and in an effort to take my mind off where I was I have gotten so tickled with nervous laughter I've had tears running down my face and had to play it off as if I were overcome with grief.
Now that I'm older, I realize I've matured in the natural and in the spiritual when it comes to facing death and funerals, but I understand better celebrating the life through the tears of missing the person is all part of this thing we call life.
But don't get me wrong, give me a wedding or a baby dedication over a funeral any day (but if you're into the macabre, I'm not judging. I am yet praying for you, but not judging), however since I'm no longer frozen in fear at funerals it could easily manifest itself in some other form of foolishness. I mean the last one I went to I actually walked up to the casket voluntarily alone and said "Awww she looks nice" which is something I never thought I would do... but on the other hand trying to fall in the casket thinking you're going to take them out and walk around like "Weekend at Bernie's" is NOT a good idea... don't ask me how I know. Just don't ask... :-/
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Like vs. Love: A lesson in semantics
1like verb \ˈlīk\
2a : to feel attraction toward or take pleasure in : enjoy <likes baseball>
1love noun \ˈləv\
3: to like or desire actively : take pleasure in <loved to play the violin>
(the above definitions are from merriam-webster.com)
I had the joy of spending this past weekend celebrating my grandmother's 83rd birthday. She's the matriarch of our family and her wisdom comes from many years of experience. I always learn a little something that gives me a different outlook on life when I spend time with her and my family. Even in the last year losing a sister and a daughter, having a stroke...she still chuckles for no reason when she answers the phone. Grandma is such a joy and we are so blessed to still have her with us.
But one thing that has always puzzled me is how she uses the word "love" where most people would use "like". I don't think I've ever heard grandma say she "likes" anything, but she "loves" everything.
If she wants something to drink she would "love" to have a pitcher of sweet tea over crushed iced.
She "loves" to watch her stories, but she does not "love" cop shows.
If she's cooking dessert she's going to ask what kind of cake do you "love", not which one you like. And she knows exactly what each of her grandkids "loves".
I noticed this more when I spent the month at her house after her stroke. And no matter how many times I tried to subtly correct her by answering "Yes, ma'am I eat pork chops, but I don't "love" them." or I would say I like cabbage, but after my 3rd helping, she'd look at me across the table and say "You LOVE cabbage, don't you?" (and start chuckling), and the same goes for molasses pudding!!! (YAASSSS!) Whatever she loves she's very detailed in it's preparation, whether it's for her or for someone else. She loves to make it because she knows we love it.
This semantic observation has made me change how I view even the smallest things in life. When grandma makes that statement about whatever it is she loves there's so much passion behind it. She's not being overly dramatic, but she doesn't waste her time on something that she doesn't love. It's either one or the other.
In the midst of my transition that's my new approach. I have to love the next thing I do. I'm not going to waste my time being indifferent about something. I find myself reading job postings thinking "I don't think I love that". Even with people I have acquaintances but since I've moved back home and reconnected with friends from years ago, but think about being away from my friends in Atlanta I realized "I really love them". Or even trying something new like Happy Hour at Sonic...I LOVE discount slushies!!!
The point is Grandma may not be a great scholar (she never graduated from high school), but she has taught me one of the greatest lessons in life. How to genuinely love...
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
I ain't never scurred!!! SIKE... Hello fear?
Yeah, I know it's been a while since I posted but between my Whitney grief, Davy Jones' memorials, every day battles with my sanity, technical difficulties and such other matters just charge it to my head. But *Varnell Hill voice* did ya miss me?
I can say my mind has been racing with various sundry topics and what has really been at the forefront is fear. The fear of being in limbo, perhaps having to start over in NC, or even going back to Atlanta and realizing I would still kinda be starting over. Then my thoughts were flooded with all sorts of things that I am afraid of concerning where I am or am not in my life.
Like following my dreams. I'm not fresh out of college anymore and while I feel better now than I did when I left college, I'm not old, but at 35, I'm no spring chicken either. Can someone else put up with the fact that when I'm really involved in my work at my desk I sing like I'm in the studio? Do you know how long it took my coworkers when we moved to cubicles that I really don't have much to say before 11am, but at 2pm I'm a ball of energy?
I even thought about entering a new relationship. At my age I'm set in my ways and anyone I might want to marry will be too. Do they take their shoes off at the door while I wear mine all around the house? Are they a morning person and I'm a night owl? And because my thoughts are pretty random, allow me to go a step further. What about passing gas? I was in an off/on relationship for many years and we had become comfortable enough to do that in front of one another. It took a long time though. (No lie this was something that really concerned me...) Even having to explain the crazy relationship between me and my non-gay best guy friend which they will never understand anyway so why bother!!!
But what if I go back to Atlanta and my friends and boos have forgotten about me! That's scary right?
And let's not talk about going to another state altogether... my nerves can't take it!
I know the Bible says that God has not given us the spirit of fear ,but the revelation I got in that is there is a difference between having a slight apprehension about something versus a spirit of fear hovering over you to the point you can't function. That's called paranoia which is a mental illness and you need to see the previous post from February 1st on mental illness. Get some counseling...
But what I do know is fear comes with uncertainty but that's what fuels our faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. If we knew what was going to happen we would need God to grant us peace that passes all understanding. So even in the little things and in the midst of feeling small butterflies in my stomach when it comes to facing the fear of being in limbo I know I'm walking in faith and peace.
In the meantime I'm gonna make sure I put Febreeze, Glade and scented candles on my hope chest/wedding wish list registry so me and my future boo can love on each other in liberty!!!
Go with God!
I can say my mind has been racing with various sundry topics and what has really been at the forefront is fear. The fear of being in limbo, perhaps having to start over in NC, or even going back to Atlanta and realizing I would still kinda be starting over. Then my thoughts were flooded with all sorts of things that I am afraid of concerning where I am or am not in my life.
Like following my dreams. I'm not fresh out of college anymore and while I feel better now than I did when I left college, I'm not old, but at 35, I'm no spring chicken either. Can someone else put up with the fact that when I'm really involved in my work at my desk I sing like I'm in the studio? Do you know how long it took my coworkers when we moved to cubicles that I really don't have much to say before 11am, but at 2pm I'm a ball of energy?
I even thought about entering a new relationship. At my age I'm set in my ways and anyone I might want to marry will be too. Do they take their shoes off at the door while I wear mine all around the house? Are they a morning person and I'm a night owl? And because my thoughts are pretty random, allow me to go a step further. What about passing gas? I was in an off/on relationship for many years and we had become comfortable enough to do that in front of one another. It took a long time though. (No lie this was something that really concerned me...) Even having to explain the crazy relationship between me and my non-gay best guy friend which they will never understand anyway so why bother!!!
But what if I go back to Atlanta and my friends and boos have forgotten about me! That's scary right?
And let's not talk about going to another state altogether... my nerves can't take it!
I know the Bible says that God has not given us the spirit of fear ,but the revelation I got in that is there is a difference between having a slight apprehension about something versus a spirit of fear hovering over you to the point you can't function. That's called paranoia which is a mental illness and you need to see the previous post from February 1st on mental illness. Get some counseling...
But what I do know is fear comes with uncertainty but that's what fuels our faith. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. If we knew what was going to happen we would need God to grant us peace that passes all understanding. So even in the little things and in the midst of feeling small butterflies in my stomach when it comes to facing the fear of being in limbo I know I'm walking in faith and peace.
In the meantime I'm gonna make sure I put Febreeze, Glade and scented candles on my hope chest/wedding wish list registry so me and my future boo can love on each other in liberty!!!
Go with God!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Thank you Whitney...
I remember being in 9th grade the Monday after the 1991 Super Bowl and everyone was talking about Whitney Houston's stirring rendition of the National Anthem. Now granted, the whole country was still very emotional and full of patriotism because the first Gulf War starting not too long before, but I think even in a time of peace Whitney in that white track suit and headband would've made Radio Raheem from "Do the Right Thing" drape himself in an American flag. It never crossed my mind to even attempt to sing the National Anthem anywhere, but the radio played it like it was a studio recorded single, so just like most other songs by her that came on the radio at the time, I heard it once or twice and would sing along note for note. The only subconscious intention I had was to drive my siblings and parents crazy singing in the bathroom. (I didn't know I had such a big mouth)
By the time the next school year rolled around I had made a few friends (I was new to the school my first year) and because birds of a feather flock together I met some other people who loved to sing. They were in the chorus and I was not, but somehow we turned our gym class into a bootleg chorus class. Our gym teacher didn't enjoy it but we had a BALL! We sang ALL the time.
That spring the chorus sponsored a talent show. Some how my friends convinced me to audition. I didn't even sign up to audition cause I had never planned to audition, but I remember them coercing me into the chorus room one day after school and telling the chorus teacher she had to hear me sing. I only agreed to this if they stayed in there with me and when she asked what I was gonna sing, I panicked and I thought to myself "What do I know all the words to???" Before I could think of something basic like "Mary had a little lamb" or I say "The Star Spangled Banner" by Whitney Houston. The chorus teacher looked at me with a look like "Yeah right" and to myself I thought the same thing: "Oh you gonna sing Whitney?: Now I had sang in public before but only at the small local church in my grandma's town and most of the congregants and choir were family so that wasn't much different from singing around the house which we did all the time anyway. Singing and music has always been natural for me, but never outside of my audience being family...until now.
All I could think was if I don't sound good my friends are going to boo me and I can't run out of this room... SHAME!!!
The teacher asked me did I want her to play for me on the piano and I said no. I took a deep breath, focused, closed my eyes and heard Whitney singing in my head. When I opened my mouth I simply started to sing Now I'm not saying I sounded just Whitney, but at 15 I knew nothing about range or tone or vocal technique. I was simply imitating Whitney Houston, and I did just that.
I remember coming home to tell my parents I was gonna be in the talent show and it was laughable. I wasn't the "entertainer" I am now and the thought of being at a microphone to talk or sing in front of a crowd would cause me to shake and my knees to knock and my mouth would turn into cotton. A mumbly shaky mess (as we discovered one year when I had to introduce my mother and her sisters at their anniversary a year earlier. FAIL!)
But if I sang in front of my friends in gym and in the chorus room surely I could do this talent show. I don't even know if there was a prize involved but I did it anyway. And I was on first... They introduced me, I took the mic, closed my eyes, my knees were shaking and I felt like someone was choking me... utter shame was about to come upon me. I didn't start of too bad, but let's just say "the rockets red glare" and "bombs bursting in air" was a metaphor brought to life because my nervousness cause those notes to bomb. But my friends knew I could sing, they heard me in the locker room, on the bus, in the hall... and they cheered me on and when they did, I felt my Whitney imitation take over me and finished the song to thunderous applause.
From then on I've always fallen back on my Whitney Houston renditions when I need an old standby. I sang "The Greatest Love of All" countless times at last minute "black events" in college, seen many brides and grooms gaze into each other's eyes singing I believe in you and me, and turned out karaoke contest singing "All the Man I Need" (do y'all remember FUN FLIXX?) and even auditioned for the college choir with "The Star Bangled Banner" (which the director informed me is in B-flat if anyone asked)
Of course my voice, technique and style have matured over the years. I've come into my own as a vocalist. There are many other singers who can sing circles around me, but I don't take my talent for granted. I thank God for my gift but I will always credit THE VOICE, MS. WHITNEY HOUSTON for helping me discover my own voice. That's the Whitney I want to remember and will never forget...
By the time the next school year rolled around I had made a few friends (I was new to the school my first year) and because birds of a feather flock together I met some other people who loved to sing. They were in the chorus and I was not, but somehow we turned our gym class into a bootleg chorus class. Our gym teacher didn't enjoy it but we had a BALL! We sang ALL the time.
That spring the chorus sponsored a talent show. Some how my friends convinced me to audition. I didn't even sign up to audition cause I had never planned to audition, but I remember them coercing me into the chorus room one day after school and telling the chorus teacher she had to hear me sing. I only agreed to this if they stayed in there with me and when she asked what I was gonna sing, I panicked and I thought to myself "What do I know all the words to???" Before I could think of something basic like "Mary had a little lamb" or I say "The Star Spangled Banner" by Whitney Houston. The chorus teacher looked at me with a look like "Yeah right" and to myself I thought the same thing: "Oh you gonna sing Whitney?: Now I had sang in public before but only at the small local church in my grandma's town and most of the congregants and choir were family so that wasn't much different from singing around the house which we did all the time anyway. Singing and music has always been natural for me, but never outside of my audience being family...until now.
All I could think was if I don't sound good my friends are going to boo me and I can't run out of this room... SHAME!!!
The teacher asked me did I want her to play for me on the piano and I said no. I took a deep breath, focused, closed my eyes and heard Whitney singing in my head. When I opened my mouth I simply started to sing Now I'm not saying I sounded just Whitney, but at 15 I knew nothing about range or tone or vocal technique. I was simply imitating Whitney Houston, and I did just that.
I remember coming home to tell my parents I was gonna be in the talent show and it was laughable. I wasn't the "entertainer" I am now and the thought of being at a microphone to talk or sing in front of a crowd would cause me to shake and my knees to knock and my mouth would turn into cotton. A mumbly shaky mess (as we discovered one year when I had to introduce my mother and her sisters at their anniversary a year earlier. FAIL!)
But if I sang in front of my friends in gym and in the chorus room surely I could do this talent show. I don't even know if there was a prize involved but I did it anyway. And I was on first... They introduced me, I took the mic, closed my eyes, my knees were shaking and I felt like someone was choking me... utter shame was about to come upon me. I didn't start of too bad, but let's just say "the rockets red glare" and "bombs bursting in air" was a metaphor brought to life because my nervousness cause those notes to bomb. But my friends knew I could sing, they heard me in the locker room, on the bus, in the hall... and they cheered me on and when they did, I felt my Whitney imitation take over me and finished the song to thunderous applause.
From then on I've always fallen back on my Whitney Houston renditions when I need an old standby. I sang "The Greatest Love of All" countless times at last minute "black events" in college, seen many brides and grooms gaze into each other's eyes singing I believe in you and me, and turned out karaoke contest singing "All the Man I Need" (do y'all remember FUN FLIXX?) and even auditioned for the college choir with "The Star Bangled Banner" (which the director informed me is in B-flat if anyone asked)
Of course my voice, technique and style have matured over the years. I've come into my own as a vocalist. There are many other singers who can sing circles around me, but I don't take my talent for granted. I thank God for my gift but I will always credit THE VOICE, MS. WHITNEY HOUSTON for helping me discover my own voice. That's the Whitney I want to remember and will never forget...
Friday, February 10, 2012
Breakfast is served... in the back?!?
Ok, there are several ways I could approach this subject but it's 2012 and I can't hold my peace any longer.
I enjoy dining out and one of my favorite meals to "chat and chew" over is breakfast/brunch. It's almost become a tradition for me on Sunday's whether dining alone or with friend(s), to get something covered in syrup after church. There's no better time to catch up with old friends than over the most important meal of the day. All bets are off and even the pickiest eater can find something they like over breakfast. It's not too expensive and a good, gregarious guffaw blends in with short order cook yelling and the clamor of plates without shame. The mood is always light, no tension even amongst the most awkward of dining partners. There seems to be no judgement during breakfast except for the hostess with my seating assignment during the month of February!!!
I have gone out to breakfast 3 times this week and during my most recent visit to a local family eatery for breakfast I noticed I was sat in the back of the restaurant. I mean the back... like next to the kitchen and opposite the fire exit. But I didn't say anything...
Then my mind went back to the other day when my parents, my brother and I went to brunch and once again we beasted on breakfast platters next to an exit door in the back of the restaurant...
Then I had another memory of last Sunday when my sister and I were enjoying chicken and waffles and such at my favorite hometown restaurant and we were up top, but you guess it...2 booths from the exit door in the back!
Even last weekend when I went out with my home girl (although it was for dinner) we were still in the back...
And then I remembered back in 2009, not too long after President Obama's inauguration some friends and I decided to spend Valentine's weekend in the mountains of a state that will remain nameless (cause it's all in the south!) and our trip planner extraordinaire found a quaint (but popular for tourist) breakfast spot for us to meet and begin our day. Granted we had a large party (more than 6) so initially when they sat us in the VERY BACK (and I mean the LAST tables) it didn't seem odd. Until we noticed that as the time progressed the only other patrons they were sitting in this area all looked like "us". But the coup de grace was when the last two people in our party arrived (because we had traveled from different places, thus arriving at different times) and before they could tell the hostess they were meeting a party the hostess said... (wait for it)... "They're in the back" *blank stare* Ummm how did you know they didn't want a table for 2 or maybe they were meeting some Caucasian friends, but I took it as no matter who they were looking for everyone black is in the back!!! Now granted at that point in time I was still so high on my president being black I took it in stride, not to mention the food was phenomenal. (Side note: Uhhhh can I get apple muffins shipped to me?)
Here's what is bothering me the most right now ..my conscious. After I got home from my most recent breakfast outing I began to think "When you saw the hostess passing all those empty table and booths in the front why didn't you say anything?" Why didn't I ask for a different table if I felt so strongly. I mean I from the birthplace of the Sit-Ins right around the corner. Did I not want to seem difficult or create a ruckus?
But could the truth be my love for breakfast foods subconsciously blinds my eyes to bigotry, especially when I haven't had coffee yet!!!!
I mean it could be a coincidence or maybe I'm just being overly sensitive during Black History Month :-/
Ehh well... We still in the struggle, pass the syrup...Fight the power!
I enjoy dining out and one of my favorite meals to "chat and chew" over is breakfast/brunch. It's almost become a tradition for me on Sunday's whether dining alone or with friend(s), to get something covered in syrup after church. There's no better time to catch up with old friends than over the most important meal of the day. All bets are off and even the pickiest eater can find something they like over breakfast. It's not too expensive and a good, gregarious guffaw blends in with short order cook yelling and the clamor of plates without shame. The mood is always light, no tension even amongst the most awkward of dining partners. There seems to be no judgement during breakfast except for the hostess with my seating assignment during the month of February!!!
I have gone out to breakfast 3 times this week and during my most recent visit to a local family eatery for breakfast I noticed I was sat in the back of the restaurant. I mean the back... like next to the kitchen and opposite the fire exit. But I didn't say anything...
Then my mind went back to the other day when my parents, my brother and I went to brunch and once again we beasted on breakfast platters next to an exit door in the back of the restaurant...
Then I had another memory of last Sunday when my sister and I were enjoying chicken and waffles and such at my favorite hometown restaurant and we were up top, but you guess it...2 booths from the exit door in the back!
Even last weekend when I went out with my home girl (although it was for dinner) we were still in the back...
And then I remembered back in 2009, not too long after President Obama's inauguration some friends and I decided to spend Valentine's weekend in the mountains of a state that will remain nameless (cause it's all in the south!) and our trip planner extraordinaire found a quaint (but popular for tourist) breakfast spot for us to meet and begin our day. Granted we had a large party (more than 6) so initially when they sat us in the VERY BACK (and I mean the LAST tables) it didn't seem odd. Until we noticed that as the time progressed the only other patrons they were sitting in this area all looked like "us". But the coup de grace was when the last two people in our party arrived (because we had traveled from different places, thus arriving at different times) and before they could tell the hostess they were meeting a party the hostess said... (wait for it)... "They're in the back" *blank stare* Ummm how did you know they didn't want a table for 2 or maybe they were meeting some Caucasian friends, but I took it as no matter who they were looking for everyone black is in the back!!! Now granted at that point in time I was still so high on my president being black I took it in stride, not to mention the food was phenomenal. (Side note: Uhhhh can I get apple muffins shipped to me?)
Here's what is bothering me the most right now ..my conscious. After I got home from my most recent breakfast outing I began to think "When you saw the hostess passing all those empty table and booths in the front why didn't you say anything?" Why didn't I ask for a different table if I felt so strongly. I mean I from the birthplace of the Sit-Ins right around the corner. Did I not want to seem difficult or create a ruckus?
But could the truth be my love for breakfast foods subconsciously blinds my eyes to bigotry, especially when I haven't had coffee yet!!!!
I mean it could be a coincidence or maybe I'm just being overly sensitive during Black History Month :-/
Ehh well... We still in the struggle, pass the syrup...Fight the power!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
The Power of Polar Opposite Prayers
Well America we survived another NFL football season which culminated in the SUPERBOWL this past Sunday. Congratulations to the New York Football Giants!!! And boo-hoo to the New England Patriots.
But this got me to thinking... all during this NFL season fans and non-fans have been fascinated with "Tebowing", a posture kneeling down in prayer made popular by Denver Bronco quarterback Tim Tebow on the sidelines.We watched Tebow and his team triumphantly pray their way through some seemingly impossible last minute plays, but in the end they still didn't make it to the big game.
Even the week before the Super Bowl despite Gisele's plea for prayers for Tom Brady, she still ended up in a cuss rant after their loss. (God knew your heart Gissy!) I mean surely fans on both sides were "praying" there team would win, but somebody had to lose ( But for the record I was rooting for the Giants though... just sayin')
This got me to thinking... just because we're not always seen in the "Tebowing" prayer posture, there could always be someone praying a prayer polar opposite from some one else's and some one's prayer isn't going to be answered in their favor. Think about it...
When you're looking for a job, someone else is looking and praying too.
Ladies, you're praying "Lord let him ask me on a date" and He's praying "Lord please get her out of my face!" (a little seasonal humor... Haaaa!)
Even in my current situation I know there are some people praying prayers that would seemingly cancel each other out. I have friends and family who are on both sides of the fence about me going back to Atlanta or staying here in NC. My 12yr old nephew literally starting praising God after I finally told him ( I had been here 2 weeks) I wasn't going back to Atlanta, but when I told him I wanted to go back he then began to suggest I should find someone here to marry so I won't have to go back. (ok... I wasn't totally mad at that suggestion) I'm certain other family members and friends feel this way, but at the same token I am touched at the calls and messages I get from my friends in Atlanta expressing how much they miss me and hope I can come back soon. (I miss them terribly too!) Then I have friends and family who are supportive no matter what move I plan on making next... My 6 yr old niece just hugged me and said " I don't care. I'm just glad you're here now" (awww)
Being in the middle of all this I changed my prayer to "God lead me so that I may be in your will." Now am I saying I have forgotten about my desire to go back to the "big city" that I called home for 9yrs or suggesting I don't want people to pray for me to stay here? Certainly not!!! (yeah ummm don't stop praying and believing, Pray without ceasing and such, Send up timber, those of you that know the works of prayer, please pray for me and any other cliche that can be inserted here!!!)
But what I am saying is that God knows best and which ever way He answers the bi-polar prayers of the people I simply want to be in his will... here, there or somewhere!!! Me and anyone else will get over any disappointment is the prayer isn't answered in our favor, once we realize that God surely has a better plan than we could've ever thought of, so just accept what God allows!
"Thy will be done..."---yep that's my prayer.
Go with God y'all!
Nilly B!
But this got me to thinking... all during this NFL season fans and non-fans have been fascinated with "Tebowing", a posture kneeling down in prayer made popular by Denver Bronco quarterback Tim Tebow on the sidelines.We watched Tebow and his team triumphantly pray their way through some seemingly impossible last minute plays, but in the end they still didn't make it to the big game.
Even the week before the Super Bowl despite Gisele's plea for prayers for Tom Brady, she still ended up in a cuss rant after their loss. (God knew your heart Gissy!) I mean surely fans on both sides were "praying" there team would win, but somebody had to lose ( But for the record I was rooting for the Giants though... just sayin')
This got me to thinking... just because we're not always seen in the "Tebowing" prayer posture, there could always be someone praying a prayer polar opposite from some one else's and some one's prayer isn't going to be answered in their favor. Think about it...
When you're looking for a job, someone else is looking and praying too.
Ladies, you're praying "Lord let him ask me on a date" and He's praying "Lord please get her out of my face!" (a little seasonal humor... Haaaa!)
Even in my current situation I know there are some people praying prayers that would seemingly cancel each other out. I have friends and family who are on both sides of the fence about me going back to Atlanta or staying here in NC. My 12yr old nephew literally starting praising God after I finally told him ( I had been here 2 weeks) I wasn't going back to Atlanta, but when I told him I wanted to go back he then began to suggest I should find someone here to marry so I won't have to go back. (ok... I wasn't totally mad at that suggestion) I'm certain other family members and friends feel this way, but at the same token I am touched at the calls and messages I get from my friends in Atlanta expressing how much they miss me and hope I can come back soon. (I miss them terribly too!) Then I have friends and family who are supportive no matter what move I plan on making next... My 6 yr old niece just hugged me and said " I don't care. I'm just glad you're here now" (awww)
Being in the middle of all this I changed my prayer to "God lead me so that I may be in your will." Now am I saying I have forgotten about my desire to go back to the "big city" that I called home for 9yrs or suggesting I don't want people to pray for me to stay here? Certainly not!!! (yeah ummm don't stop praying and believing, Pray without ceasing and such, Send up timber, those of you that know the works of prayer, please pray for me and any other cliche that can be inserted here!!!)
But what I am saying is that God knows best and which ever way He answers the bi-polar prayers of the people I simply want to be in his will... here, there or somewhere!!! Me and anyone else will get over any disappointment is the prayer isn't answered in our favor, once we realize that God surely has a better plan than we could've ever thought of, so just accept what God allows!
"Thy will be done..."---yep that's my prayer.
Go with God y'all!
Nilly B!
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Love, Peace and Soul... but it's no laughing matter
I realize I've only written a few post and last night I had several topics running through my mind with a humorous spin on them, but after hearing the news of Don Cornelius's death this morning, I put every other topic on the back burner to bring a very serious topic to the forefront...
When I heard reports that the iconic voice and creator of SOUL TRAIN had died I thought "Dang... we lost another legend in the black community.", but then to hear reports that his death came at his own hands... an apparent suicide... I was shook!!! What makes a 75yr old man who was a successful icon and living legend want to take his own life, and especially at his age? What could've possibly been going on for someone to take their own life after 3 quarters of a century? I mean he conducted "the hippest trip in America!", "love, peace, and SOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUULLLLLL!" He brought us a party every Saturday for years in our homes? This doesn't make any sense...
But then I stopped and thought... what makes someone want to attempt take their lives at any age?
A school aged child being bullied,
or a high school girl who didn't feel pretty enough because she never got asked out
or a high school football player who's dreams of playing for a Division 1 school were shattered by an injury
or a college student who felt like a failure because they didn't make the Dean's list
or couldn't quite find a clique to fit in
or was struggling with their sexuality and afraid to come out to their family and friends
or a new mother who couldn't shake the stresses of caring for another life
or the dad that lost his job and didn't know how he was going to support that new wife and baby
or the single mother doing all she knows to do, but still trying to make ends meet
or the baby daddy who's baby mama is acting out about visitation
or the graduate trying to make a name for themselves in the workplace only to be hit with office politics
or the single woman/man who feels all alone because the love of her life doesn't love her in return
or the criminal who committed a horrible crime but couldn't face the judgment of the people
or the baby boomer who isn't as spry as they used to be and has empty nest blues
or the elderly person who sees how times have changed but they don't remember them changing...
Yeah... all of these could be a rational reason for attempting suicide to someone who is dealing with depression or mental illness or there could be seemingly no reason at all.
You can't see depression... and I'm not talking about just a bad day or week. I'm talking about the illness that often goes untreated and undiagnosed (especially in the African-American community and the church)... clinical depression.
We dismiss it as a family trait "Child, you know they all a lil' off", or someone who is just always "going through", and especially in the church we're quick to tell someone to "lift up your heads and encourage yourself!!!" (which is fine and dandy, but often temporary and difficult to do for a person who has depression).
Here's my point (Black History segue)... as a community we have enough diseases trying to take us out with symptoms we can see, but still mental illness/depression is taking lives yet is still such a taboo subject. Every other week there is a blood pressure screening in the hood or a "sugar" diabetes testing or self-breast exam reminder being announced at our churches, schools and other events (and YES these are still VERY important), but when somebody "can't get right" or seems really down for a period of time we don't encourage them to get professional help, we take them out to dinner to cheer them up, but that's the end. They may laugh it up with you and be the life of the party, but then go home and cry themselves to sleep or never get to sleep because their mind is racing with thoughts of loneliness and hopelessness and with nagging thoughts that then end is the only way out. Then we want to whisper at the funeral "Girl I didn't know it was that bad." and start falling out and carrying on. (and you know I'm right)
As a woman of faith I fully believe in God's healing power, but just like any other illness or disease I also know God places the wisdom of doctors, therapist, prescription drugs and other natural remedies to help us. Faith without works is dead, and I don't want to see another life taken at the hands of suicide because someone didn't know where to turn for help. No matter your age, situation you're facing, or how bad it seems now... there is help and hope!
And if you've never dealt with serious depression tell God "thank ya"!!! It's very hard to understand if you've never been there. And I'm not telling you what I've heard... I'm telling you what I know. A friend of mine ask me (out of genuine concern, but it was funny) "So what does an anxiety attack or depression look like so I'll know if it's happening. Is there something I'm supposed to do? Do I just let you cry? Try to make you laugh? What???" (and he was so serious!) There's really no way to describe it and it effects everyone differently. Everyday isn't easy... some are better than others, but at the end of each day I'm thankful I fought to the end, count my blessings, chose to rejoice and be glad in it... even if but for a moment.
When I started writing this, I hadn't planned on ending this post in such a transparent way, but allow me to leave you with these words from a classic song:
Because he lives
I can face tomorrow
Because he lives
All fear is gone
Because I know
He holds the future
And life and is worth the living
Just because he lives
And yes, this is still my life... but not everything is a laughing matter.
(I promise the next post won't be so heavy... I just wanted to help the people) Happy Black History Month!
When I heard reports that the iconic voice and creator of SOUL TRAIN had died I thought "Dang... we lost another legend in the black community.", but then to hear reports that his death came at his own hands... an apparent suicide... I was shook!!! What makes a 75yr old man who was a successful icon and living legend want to take his own life, and especially at his age? What could've possibly been going on for someone to take their own life after 3 quarters of a century? I mean he conducted "the hippest trip in America!", "love, peace, and SOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUULLLLLL!" He brought us a party every Saturday for years in our homes? This doesn't make any sense...
But then I stopped and thought... what makes someone want to attempt take their lives at any age?
A school aged child being bullied,
or a high school girl who didn't feel pretty enough because she never got asked out
or a high school football player who's dreams of playing for a Division 1 school were shattered by an injury
or a college student who felt like a failure because they didn't make the Dean's list
or couldn't quite find a clique to fit in
or was struggling with their sexuality and afraid to come out to their family and friends
or a new mother who couldn't shake the stresses of caring for another life
or the dad that lost his job and didn't know how he was going to support that new wife and baby
or the single mother doing all she knows to do, but still trying to make ends meet
or the baby daddy who's baby mama is acting out about visitation
or the graduate trying to make a name for themselves in the workplace only to be hit with office politics
or the single woman/man who feels all alone because the love of her life doesn't love her in return
or the criminal who committed a horrible crime but couldn't face the judgment of the people
or the baby boomer who isn't as spry as they used to be and has empty nest blues
or the elderly person who sees how times have changed but they don't remember them changing...
Yeah... all of these could be a rational reason for attempting suicide to someone who is dealing with depression or mental illness or there could be seemingly no reason at all.
You can't see depression... and I'm not talking about just a bad day or week. I'm talking about the illness that often goes untreated and undiagnosed (especially in the African-American community and the church)... clinical depression.
We dismiss it as a family trait "Child, you know they all a lil' off", or someone who is just always "going through", and especially in the church we're quick to tell someone to "lift up your heads and encourage yourself!!!" (which is fine and dandy, but often temporary and difficult to do for a person who has depression).
Here's my point (Black History segue)... as a community we have enough diseases trying to take us out with symptoms we can see, but still mental illness/depression is taking lives yet is still such a taboo subject. Every other week there is a blood pressure screening in the hood or a "sugar" diabetes testing or self-breast exam reminder being announced at our churches, schools and other events (and YES these are still VERY important), but when somebody "can't get right" or seems really down for a period of time we don't encourage them to get professional help, we take them out to dinner to cheer them up, but that's the end. They may laugh it up with you and be the life of the party, but then go home and cry themselves to sleep or never get to sleep because their mind is racing with thoughts of loneliness and hopelessness and with nagging thoughts that then end is the only way out. Then we want to whisper at the funeral "Girl I didn't know it was that bad." and start falling out and carrying on. (and you know I'm right)
As a woman of faith I fully believe in God's healing power, but just like any other illness or disease I also know God places the wisdom of doctors, therapist, prescription drugs and other natural remedies to help us. Faith without works is dead, and I don't want to see another life taken at the hands of suicide because someone didn't know where to turn for help. No matter your age, situation you're facing, or how bad it seems now... there is help and hope!
And if you've never dealt with serious depression tell God "thank ya"!!! It's very hard to understand if you've never been there. And I'm not telling you what I've heard... I'm telling you what I know. A friend of mine ask me (out of genuine concern, but it was funny) "So what does an anxiety attack or depression look like so I'll know if it's happening. Is there something I'm supposed to do? Do I just let you cry? Try to make you laugh? What???" (and he was so serious!) There's really no way to describe it and it effects everyone differently. Everyday isn't easy... some are better than others, but at the end of each day I'm thankful I fought to the end, count my blessings, chose to rejoice and be glad in it... even if but for a moment.
When I started writing this, I hadn't planned on ending this post in such a transparent way, but allow me to leave you with these words from a classic song:
Because he lives
I can face tomorrow
Because he lives
All fear is gone
Because I know
He holds the future
And life and is worth the living
Just because he lives
And yes, this is still my life... but not everything is a laughing matter.
(I promise the next post won't be so heavy... I just wanted to help the people) Happy Black History Month!
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