Wednesday, April 28, 2010
"He Is" by Hillary Roy
I have to admit, I’ve never been a fan of “George W. Bush.” Never have been, and probably never will be. Unless, of course, we’re discussing his better half. Forget the fact that the former president “is” a Republican and, forget the fact that I “am” a Democrat. Forget the fact that I disagree with most, if not all, of the policies and laws he put in place when he was in office because well like momma used to say, “Why cry over spilled milk?” And thank God, I’m smart enough not to, because I know, how to separate, “the man” from “the mission.” Or should I say, at least when it comes to his wife. Laura Bush, has never piqued my interest not even when she and then first lady Hillary Rodham Clinton had words over the role of women staying at home baking cookies. I could have cared less. But what I was intrigued by was her thoughtful account of her life as a young, high school student who had made a very, careless mistake. It was a tragedy that would haunt her for years and cause her to denounce her faith in God. This was far different than the image we would see on the TV screen of her and Georgy Porgy. You know the one that portrayed her as the doting wife, mother, philanthropist, daughter, and yes, first lady. Yet, as I read part of the excerpts from her new memoir “Spoken from the Heart”….I got the sense that this 17-year-old girl could have taken an entirely different path the night that she and a few of her friends went for a joy ride. It was a night that would change their lives forever. No one could foresee what would happen next, when young Laura took her eyes off of the steering wheel for what most have seemed like only a minute. A minute, which would cause her body to summersault in mid-air then fall onto her back. She was the lucky one, as the other driver, a high school football star, was now, a fatality. Where…was God? Where was God in all this she kept asking herself? It’s a question that many of us have asked ourselves when difficulties come, when death or grief consumes us, when financial stress or job losses occur, or health issues linger, or divorce or relationships end. Where is God in all this? And when… will… he finally show up? But it’s not about the question, it’s about the answer, and the answer is….he’s always there and he was there with that young, frightened girl the moment they pulled her out of that car. And he was there, the night that you consumed all of those pills trying to take your life. And he was there, when the eviction notice hit your door. He was there, in the court room as you said to your husband or your wife “I no longer do”….and he was holding your hand when they lowered the casket of your loved one. He was there, in the delivery room the moment of your birth, and he was there applauding “you” when you chose to believe in him. And he’ll always be there, no matter what circumstance or reason, in dew season, he always, will be!
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Never Give Up...From Prison to Ministry
Drug addicted….separated……lost……drug addicted…separated……lost…drug addicted…separated…and lost……..but, never gave up! That’s a headline that’s bigger than a championship ring, an MVP award or making it all the way to the Final Four. At least this was the case, for NBA great Dwayne Wade, but more importantly the woman who raised him because this was a description she knew all too well. And why wouldn’t she? It was the story of her life. As a young mother, Jolinda Wade struggled with the responsibility of raising her children all alone. She worked hard for years but had grown tired and was now falling victim to many of the traps of the enemy, like drinking and using drugs. Yet, despite the fact that she was abusing all of these things, she continued to attend church even when she was strung out on drugs. And, while other worshippers clapped, shouted and bowed heads to pray, God was whispering love songs in her ear. This would be the only place that she could find the comfort she was seeking and the only place she could receive the fruit she so desperately needed. But day in, and day out, she continued to rebel, seeking refuge from poison and darkness until, she finally reached, rock bottom. Her days of partying and drugging had led her to a separation from her family when her children were taken away. And an outstanding warrant from a previous offense brought her straight to the penitentiary. Now time and solitude were her only friends and the only opportunity she had to deal with the reality of her poor choices. But, just like Romans 8:28 says, “God causes all things to work together for good to those who love him and to those who are called according to his purpose.” For it was in these walls, that she found her biggest blessing. Not in the streets, not in the church, not in her home but in a cold, concrete facility filled with strangers. And, a place, that had become ‘her” holy ghost college. No longer would her name be attached to shame and guilt and no longer would she hear the voices of people on the outside commenting on whether she could or would recover. Because this, knew residence, would allow her to spend time with her heavenly father to work things out with him and gain an education in areas of her life where she needed healing the most. For Jolinda Wade, salvation, restoration, renewal and the revelation to become a pastor was found in these walls, for others it may be someplace else but wherever it is, each of us has it in us. Each of us has a spirit living inside of us who can erase every doubt, every sin, every wrong and every fear. All he asks for, is acceptance, and with it comes perfect peace. As long as we ask, as long as we seek and as long as we never give up, he’ll be there, waiting, with open arms. In dew season...we will!
Friday, February 5, 2010
"A Mother's Love" by Rose Mitchell
It's day 5 of our celebration for (28 Days of Love) and we present a personal refection from mother, friend, writer, educator, life coach and co-author of the book "Journeys of Love Voices of the Heart," Rose Mitchell. Truly, there is no greater love than that of the creator and the one who gave us life. This is simply beautiful.....
A MOTHER’S LOVE
(In honor of my loving mother, Mozell Harvey)
Deep in your eyes is where wisdom, strength and courage reside. You offer me a loving home with eyes so brown and true, so round and complete. I accept the invitation. As you stroke my hair, I look into eyes dark like onyx and find comfort in knowing that home is where the heart is. You made a house a home with your unconditional love.
Cinnamon skin so soft yet tough enough to weather unexpected storms. I escape in your arms for guidance as you caress me with sun-kissed skin and embrace me with your brown sugar. You nurture what ills me with special, tender loving care and I am healed. I am addicted to love.
Upon your face, I have witnessed disappointment, grief, hurt and sorrow. On the face of an angel, I have seen expressions of joy, contentment and happiness. Smiling when you wanted to cry, laughing when you wanted to sigh and giving when you wanted to receive made you a legend. Time made you strong. Experiences made you proud. Your endurance is amazing. Your determination is a Godsend. Your love is endless.
Your hands are aged with grace, dignity and purpose. They give comfort, provide security and offer support. The palms of your hands symbolize a history of survival. You have magic in your fingers and I am blessed by your touch. You have the ability to quench my thirst with kindness and feed my hunger with love. You add a pinch of affection, a sprinkle of emotion, a dash of commitment and a spoonful of devotion. Your ingredients are essential and your remedy is effective.
Your character is that of respect, trust and honesty. It shapes my life and gives true meaning to being a woman. I value the lessons. You are brave like a solider and courageous like a warrior. I salute and stand proud in honor of the love we share. You are relentless in your efforts. You have withstood test, trials and tribulations. Your mission is successfully complete for I am a reflection of your greatness. Everyday I stand in the image of your goodness. My foundation is strong because you provide structure and balance.
When I look in the mirror, I see you staring back at me. You are my mother, my hero, my role model, and my friend.
Rose Mitchell, Copyright 2001 for more information about this phenomenal woman please visit www.HillabeesandRoses.com
A MOTHER’S LOVE
(In honor of my loving mother, Mozell Harvey)
Deep in your eyes is where wisdom, strength and courage reside. You offer me a loving home with eyes so brown and true, so round and complete. I accept the invitation. As you stroke my hair, I look into eyes dark like onyx and find comfort in knowing that home is where the heart is. You made a house a home with your unconditional love.
Cinnamon skin so soft yet tough enough to weather unexpected storms. I escape in your arms for guidance as you caress me with sun-kissed skin and embrace me with your brown sugar. You nurture what ills me with special, tender loving care and I am healed. I am addicted to love.
Upon your face, I have witnessed disappointment, grief, hurt and sorrow. On the face of an angel, I have seen expressions of joy, contentment and happiness. Smiling when you wanted to cry, laughing when you wanted to sigh and giving when you wanted to receive made you a legend. Time made you strong. Experiences made you proud. Your endurance is amazing. Your determination is a Godsend. Your love is endless.
Your hands are aged with grace, dignity and purpose. They give comfort, provide security and offer support. The palms of your hands symbolize a history of survival. You have magic in your fingers and I am blessed by your touch. You have the ability to quench my thirst with kindness and feed my hunger with love. You add a pinch of affection, a sprinkle of emotion, a dash of commitment and a spoonful of devotion. Your ingredients are essential and your remedy is effective.
Your character is that of respect, trust and honesty. It shapes my life and gives true meaning to being a woman. I value the lessons. You are brave like a solider and courageous like a warrior. I salute and stand proud in honor of the love we share. You are relentless in your efforts. You have withstood test, trials and tribulations. Your mission is successfully complete for I am a reflection of your greatness. Everyday I stand in the image of your goodness. My foundation is strong because you provide structure and balance.
When I look in the mirror, I see you staring back at me. You are my mother, my hero, my role model, and my friend.
Rose Mitchell, Copyright 2001 for more information about this phenomenal woman please visit www.HillabeesandRoses.com
Thursday, February 4, 2010
"In My Eyes"
Day 4 of (28 Days of Love) is blessed with the words of Jeff Haskins, a former highschool classmate, massage expert, and health guru who takes his journey to wellness just as serious as his writing. Follow him on www.jeffsjuicefast.blogspot.com but before you do, ya gotta follow this...enjoy!
In my eyes
Look listen and learn
From a distance my resistance
Allows me to be perfect
In my eyes
Perfection is a striation
On my mental and physical relation to everything
You see I can be as I am
You can be who you are
And be perfect as it is
In my eyes
If I choose to see flaw
I break a universal law
Of letting go of my need to judge you
Then my love for you is no-longer true
In my eyes
The view from above
The one that views with love
The one that is, just because
And not attached to the outcome
Allows you to be
All that you desire to be
Good, bad or indifferently
In my eyes
The suffering that you see
Is a suffering that is from your belief
That you are not worthy
To receive every single blessing
That makes you,
In my eyes PERFECTION...
(c) Haskins
In my eyes
Look listen and learn
From a distance my resistance
Allows me to be perfect
In my eyes
Perfection is a striation
On my mental and physical relation to everything
You see I can be as I am
You can be who you are
And be perfect as it is
In my eyes
If I choose to see flaw
I break a universal law
Of letting go of my need to judge you
Then my love for you is no-longer true
In my eyes
The view from above
The one that views with love
The one that is, just because
And not attached to the outcome
Allows you to be
All that you desire to be
Good, bad or indifferently
In my eyes
The suffering that you see
Is a suffering that is from your belief
That you are not worthy
To receive every single blessing
That makes you,
In my eyes PERFECTION...
(c) Haskins
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
I Gotta Love Jones!
It's day 3 of our journey....and I'm ready to snap, clap my way through one of the most memorable cinematic experiences just oooozing with LOVE! A double chocolate treat with "A Blues For Nina," from Darius (Lorenz Tate) and "I am looking at Music," from Nina( Nia Long).
A Blues for Nina…
Say baby, can I be your slave
I've got to admit girl, you're the shit girl
And I'm diggin' you like a grave
Now do they call you daughter to the spinnin post, or
Or maybe Queen of 2,000 moons
Sister to the distant, yet risin' star
Is your name Yimmy-Ya
Oh hell nah, it's got to be Oshun
Ooo, is that a smile me put on your face child
Wide as a field of Jasmine and Glover
Talk that talk honey, walk that walk money
Hound legs that'll spank Jehovah
Shit, who am I?
It's not important
But they call me Brother to the Night
And right now
I'm the blues in your left thigh
Tryin to become the funk in your right
Who am I?
I'll be whoever you say
But right now, I'm the sight raped hunter
Blindly pursuing you as my prey
And I just wanna give you injections, of sublime erections
And get you to dance to my rhythm
Make you dream archaetypes, of black angels in flight
Upon wings, of distorted, contorted, metaphoric jism
Come on slim
Fuck yo' man, I ain't worried about him
It's you who I wanna step to my scene
Cause rather than deal with the fallacy
Of this dry ass reality
I rather dance and romance your sweet ass, in a wet dream
Who am I?
Well they all call me Brother to the Night
And right now, I'm the blues in your left thigh
Trying to become the funk in your right
Is that alright
I Am Looking At Music,
by Pinkie Gordon Lane
It is the color of light,
The shape of sound high in the evergreens
It lies suspended in hills,
A blue line in a red sky.
I am looking at sound.
I am hearing the brightness
Of high bluffs and almond trees
I am tasting the wilderness
of lakes, rivers, and streams
Caught in an angle of song.
I am remembering water
That glows in the dawn
The motion tumbled in earth
Life hidden in mounds.
I am dancing a bright beam of light
I am remembering love
A Blues for Nina…
Say baby, can I be your slave
I've got to admit girl, you're the shit girl
And I'm diggin' you like a grave
Now do they call you daughter to the spinnin post, or
Or maybe Queen of 2,000 moons
Sister to the distant, yet risin' star
Is your name Yimmy-Ya
Oh hell nah, it's got to be Oshun
Ooo, is that a smile me put on your face child
Wide as a field of Jasmine and Glover
Talk that talk honey, walk that walk money
Hound legs that'll spank Jehovah
Shit, who am I?
It's not important
But they call me Brother to the Night
And right now
I'm the blues in your left thigh
Tryin to become the funk in your right
Who am I?
I'll be whoever you say
But right now, I'm the sight raped hunter
Blindly pursuing you as my prey
And I just wanna give you injections, of sublime erections
And get you to dance to my rhythm
Make you dream archaetypes, of black angels in flight
Upon wings, of distorted, contorted, metaphoric jism
Come on slim
Fuck yo' man, I ain't worried about him
It's you who I wanna step to my scene
Cause rather than deal with the fallacy
Of this dry ass reality
I rather dance and romance your sweet ass, in a wet dream
Who am I?
Well they all call me Brother to the Night
And right now, I'm the blues in your left thigh
Trying to become the funk in your right
Is that alright
I Am Looking At Music,
by Pinkie Gordon Lane
It is the color of light,
The shape of sound high in the evergreens
It lies suspended in hills,
A blue line in a red sky.
I am looking at sound.
I am hearing the brightness
Of high bluffs and almond trees
I am tasting the wilderness
of lakes, rivers, and streams
Caught in an angle of song.
I am remembering water
That glows in the dawn
The motion tumbled in earth
Life hidden in mounds.
I am dancing a bright beam of light
I am remembering love
God's Love Letter
Love, aaaaahhhhh..love that powerful word….that feeling….that fleeting moment….that inspiration….that thought……that groove…that move……that note….that melody…that motion of the ocean…..that touch…that misconception…….and oh the deception…and yes the inflection and retrospection. That prayer…that assurance… that tendency to want this….even when it don’t fit, is the reason for the season of love!
In celebration of the 28 days of love we share the greatness of God's love! Be Blessed!
God's Love Letter
When I created the heavens and the earth, I spoke them into being.
When I created man, I formed him and breathed life into his nostrils.
But you, woman, I fashioned after I breathed the breath of life into
man because your nostrils are too delicate. I allowed a deep sleep to
come over him so I could patiently and perfectly fashion you. Man was
put to sleep so that he could not interfere with the creativity. From
one bone, I fashioned you. I chose the bone that protects man's life.
I chose the rib, which protects his heart and lungs and supports him,
as you are meant to do. Around this one bone, I shaped you....... I
modeled you. I created you perfectly and beautifully. Your characteristics
are as the rib, strong yet delicate and fragile. You provide protection
for the most delicate organ in man, his heart. His heart is the center of
his being; his lungs hold the breath of life. The ribcage will allow itself
to be broken before it will allow damage to the heart. Support man as the
rib cage supports the body. You were not taken from his feet, to be under
him, nor were you taken from his head, to be above him. You were taken from
his side, to stand beside him and be held close to his side. You are my
perfect angel.....You are my beautiful little girl. You have grown to be a
splendid woman of excellence, and my eyes fill when I see the virtues in
your heart. Your eyes......don't change them. Your lips, how lovely when
they part in prayer. Your nose, so perfect in form. Your hands so gentle to
touch. I've caressed your face in your deepest sleep. I've held your heart
close to mine. Of all that lives and breathes, you are most like me. Adam
walked with me in the cool of the day, yet he was lonely. He could not see
me or touch me. He could only feel me. So everything I wanted Adam to share
and experience with me, I fashioned in you; my holiness, my Strength, my
purity, my love, my protection and support. You are special because you are
an extension of me. Man represents my image, woman my emotions.
Together, you represent the totality of God.
So man......treat woman well. Love her, respect her, for she is fragile.
In hurting her, you hurt me. What you do to her, you do to me. In
crushing her, you only damage your own heart, the heart of your Father,
and the heart of her Father. Woman, support man. In humility, show him the
power of emotion I have given you. In gentle quietness, show your strength.
In love, show him that you are the rib that protects his inner self.
Did you not know that WOMAN is special in God's eyes?
(author unknown)
In celebration of the 28 days of love we share the greatness of God's love! Be Blessed!
God's Love Letter
When I created the heavens and the earth, I spoke them into being.
When I created man, I formed him and breathed life into his nostrils.
But you, woman, I fashioned after I breathed the breath of life into
man because your nostrils are too delicate. I allowed a deep sleep to
come over him so I could patiently and perfectly fashion you. Man was
put to sleep so that he could not interfere with the creativity. From
one bone, I fashioned you. I chose the bone that protects man's life.
I chose the rib, which protects his heart and lungs and supports him,
as you are meant to do. Around this one bone, I shaped you....... I
modeled you. I created you perfectly and beautifully. Your characteristics
are as the rib, strong yet delicate and fragile. You provide protection
for the most delicate organ in man, his heart. His heart is the center of
his being; his lungs hold the breath of life. The ribcage will allow itself
to be broken before it will allow damage to the heart. Support man as the
rib cage supports the body. You were not taken from his feet, to be under
him, nor were you taken from his head, to be above him. You were taken from
his side, to stand beside him and be held close to his side. You are my
perfect angel.....You are my beautiful little girl. You have grown to be a
splendid woman of excellence, and my eyes fill when I see the virtues in
your heart. Your eyes......don't change them. Your lips, how lovely when
they part in prayer. Your nose, so perfect in form. Your hands so gentle to
touch. I've caressed your face in your deepest sleep. I've held your heart
close to mine. Of all that lives and breathes, you are most like me. Adam
walked with me in the cool of the day, yet he was lonely. He could not see
me or touch me. He could only feel me. So everything I wanted Adam to share
and experience with me, I fashioned in you; my holiness, my Strength, my
purity, my love, my protection and support. You are special because you are
an extension of me. Man represents my image, woman my emotions.
Together, you represent the totality of God.
So man......treat woman well. Love her, respect her, for she is fragile.
In hurting her, you hurt me. What you do to her, you do to me. In
crushing her, you only damage your own heart, the heart of your Father,
and the heart of her Father. Woman, support man. In humility, show him the
power of emotion I have given you. In gentle quietness, show your strength.
In love, show him that you are the rib that protects his inner self.
Did you not know that WOMAN is special in God's eyes?
(author unknown)
Sunday, January 31, 2010
The "L" Word.....
Love, aaaaahhhhh..love...that feeling.....that fleeting moment....that inspiration.....that thought....that groove.....that move.....that note....that melody.....that motion of the ocean....that touch....that misconception....and oh deception.....and yes, the inflection and retrospection. That prayer...that assurance......that tendency to want this.....even, when it don’t fit, is the reason, for the season of love!
In celebration of the “L” word, “In Dew Season” is sharing 28 days of love including stories from our book “Journeys of Love, Voices of the Heart,” from coauthors Hillary Roy and Rose Mitchell, available now on www.HillabeesandRoses.com. They’ll also be poems from renowned poets and unknown artists, lyrics, advice, quotes and love notes for the entire month of February. So get ready...get set...GET LOVE!!!
Resignation, (by the great Nikki Giovanni)
I love you
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into spring
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off the Earth
into another dimension
I love you
because it is the natural order of things
I love you
like the habit I picked up in college
of sleeping through lectures
or saying I'm sorry
when I get stopped for speeding
because I drink a glass of water
in the morning
and chain-smoke cigarettes
all through the day
because I take my coffee Black
and my milk with chocolate
because you keep my feet warm
though my life is a mess
I love you
because I don't want it
any other way
I am helpless
in my love for you
It makes me so happy
to hear you call my name
I am amazed you can resist
locking me in an echo chamber
where your voice reverberates
through the four walls
sending me into spasmatic ecstasy
I love you
because it's been so good
for so long
that if I didn't love you
I'd have to be born again
and that is not a theological statement
I am pitiful in my love for you
The Dells tell me Love
is so simple
the thought though of you
sends indescribably delicious multitudinous
thrills throughout and through-in my body
I love you
because no two snowflakes are alike
and it is possible if you stand tippy-toe
to walk between the raindrops
I love you
because I am afraid of the dark
and can't sleep in the light
because I rub my eyes
when I wake up in the morning
and find you there
because you with all your magic powers were
determined that
I should love you
because there was nothing for you but that
I would love you
I love you
because you made me
want to love you
more than I love my privacy
my freedom my commitments
and responsibilities
I love you `cause I changed my life
to love you
because you saw me one friday
afternoon and decided that I would
love you
I love you I love you I love you
In celebration of the “L” word, “In Dew Season” is sharing 28 days of love including stories from our book “Journeys of Love, Voices of the Heart,” from coauthors Hillary Roy and Rose Mitchell, available now on www.HillabeesandRoses.com. They’ll also be poems from renowned poets and unknown artists, lyrics, advice, quotes and love notes for the entire month of February. So get ready...get set...GET LOVE!!!
Resignation, (by the great Nikki Giovanni)
I love you
because the Earth turns round the sun
because the North wind blows north
sometimes
because the Pope is Catholic
and most Rabbis Jewish
because winters flow into spring
and the air clears after a storm
because only my love for you
despite the charms of gravity
keeps me from falling off the Earth
into another dimension
I love you
because it is the natural order of things
I love you
like the habit I picked up in college
of sleeping through lectures
or saying I'm sorry
when I get stopped for speeding
because I drink a glass of water
in the morning
and chain-smoke cigarettes
all through the day
because I take my coffee Black
and my milk with chocolate
because you keep my feet warm
though my life is a mess
I love you
because I don't want it
any other way
I am helpless
in my love for you
It makes me so happy
to hear you call my name
I am amazed you can resist
locking me in an echo chamber
where your voice reverberates
through the four walls
sending me into spasmatic ecstasy
I love you
because it's been so good
for so long
that if I didn't love you
I'd have to be born again
and that is not a theological statement
I am pitiful in my love for you
The Dells tell me Love
is so simple
the thought though of you
sends indescribably delicious multitudinous
thrills throughout and through-in my body
I love you
because no two snowflakes are alike
and it is possible if you stand tippy-toe
to walk between the raindrops
I love you
because I am afraid of the dark
and can't sleep in the light
because I rub my eyes
when I wake up in the morning
and find you there
because you with all your magic powers were
determined that
I should love you
because there was nothing for you but that
I would love you
I love you
because you made me
want to love you
more than I love my privacy
my freedom my commitments
and responsibilities
I love you `cause I changed my life
to love you
because you saw me one friday
afternoon and decided that I would
love you
I love you I love you I love you
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Fallen Stars
As I sat and watched this legendary icon, this ball of fire, this multi-faceted talent, named Melba Moore, I was in awe. Now it’s true that while I’ve often had a soft spot for Jersey bred folk, my admiration, doesn’t begin there. It began, when I saw a woman with nothing more than passion, sing and dream her way to success. Despite the high and lows of the unforgiving entertainment industry, the drug and alcohol abuse, the loss of custody from her daughter, the divorces, the love affairs, the bankruptcy, the deception and oh yes, the loss of self. Regardless of it all, Ms. Moore, still stands. And for me, this was yet, another reminder, that no matter how big or small “we think” we are, or whatever achievements we reach, the greatest victories come from our falls. In them lie, our greatest lessons and blessings. And while her path may have been full of thorns, the crowns she received throughout her career can never be erased. And just like her story, our stories, are just that good. Our actions, our deeds and the impact we have in our own lives and in the lives of others are marks and imprints of our successes, failures and courage to move on even throughout our adversities. As the critics, and the people that knew her best over the years reflected on her life, there was a tendency to compare her to some of the greatest singers and talents of our time. To them, I say, she’s in a league of her own. There will never be another Whitney, Patti, Ella or Beyonce and why would we want one? Each of them was created uniquely and wonderfully, hand crafted and chosen to “dew” what they “dew.” And they are beautiful images of God, just like you and me.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
"I Desire"
Tonight I meditated on a song that brought me to tears. The lyrics were from a woman who desired to have more of God’s spirit in her life. She is broken hearted and thirsty for something more than what exists around her, something clear, not dirty or cloudy like the water she’s use to drinking to quench her thirst. She seeks clarity but knows that the only way that she can receive it, is to submit herself completely or at least long enough to experience something good.
Her desires, are not that far from my own. I want the every day confusion and uncertainty of my life to disappear like quick sand. Like my daily stress of wondering when and if a pink slip will arrive on “my” desk. Or if the car I’ve been driving since 1995 will make it into the new year or which bill I will or will not pay this month in order to put a smile on a loved ones face this Christmas. But then, I hear the word “submit” ring softly in my ear and I yield myself to the voice of my higher power.
Make no mistake about it though, I’m human, and not without fault. Therefore, the yielding and speaking part of me may not always match up with the ‘dewing’ part of me. In other words, I often choose to do my own thing by succumbing to worry, doubt and fear. Believe it or not, I haven’t always accepted the fact that my needs and desires will be taken care of as long as I am patient and believe.
My mind might not be able to grasp this concept, but my heart will. And this, is where, the best part of that songs rings true that when I fall on my knees, and attend my prayer with God he will take me beyond the veil..and give me more of him….and she asks, if it’s not to much to ask, I want a deeper relationship with you, I want the oil of God to flow in me through and through..here I am..on bending knee with out stretched arms crying Lord, not my will but your will..less of me and more of you. What an awesome experience, and what a joy it is to know that everything that we go through whatever it is, regardless of the severity or level of importance in our own eyes we dew it in partnership with the creator and there’s simply, nothing, better than that.
Her desires, are not that far from my own. I want the every day confusion and uncertainty of my life to disappear like quick sand. Like my daily stress of wondering when and if a pink slip will arrive on “my” desk. Or if the car I’ve been driving since 1995 will make it into the new year or which bill I will or will not pay this month in order to put a smile on a loved ones face this Christmas. But then, I hear the word “submit” ring softly in my ear and I yield myself to the voice of my higher power.
Make no mistake about it though, I’m human, and not without fault. Therefore, the yielding and speaking part of me may not always match up with the ‘dewing’ part of me. In other words, I often choose to do my own thing by succumbing to worry, doubt and fear. Believe it or not, I haven’t always accepted the fact that my needs and desires will be taken care of as long as I am patient and believe.
My mind might not be able to grasp this concept, but my heart will. And this, is where, the best part of that songs rings true that when I fall on my knees, and attend my prayer with God he will take me beyond the veil..and give me more of him….and she asks, if it’s not to much to ask, I want a deeper relationship with you, I want the oil of God to flow in me through and through..here I am..on bending knee with out stretched arms crying Lord, not my will but your will..less of me and more of you. What an awesome experience, and what a joy it is to know that everything that we go through whatever it is, regardless of the severity or level of importance in our own eyes we dew it in partnership with the creator and there’s simply, nothing, better than that.
Friday, October 2, 2009
"Dead King Furniture" By Landis Lane from "Journeys of Love Voices of The Heart"
"In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month"
When my Aunt Ruby died several years ago, I was stuck with her furniture. I can’t tell you why, it just happened. After a long, fruitless battle with breast cancer, which ravaged her once luscious curves and ended her life; all that remained was her furniture.
She didn’t just die…she faded away. She breathed slowly then drifted off on a wave of painkilling morphine. We all sat around the bed, not quite realizing that it was over. Finally, we shook ourselves out of the stupor of what seemed like an endless vigil. After all the arrangements had been made, we read the will.
She left the furniture to her son, Leon. He took one last look at the ornate carved curls and gilded wood amidst the satin embroidered seat cushions and said, “I couldn’t sit on that “crap” when I was a kid so why would I want to sit on it now? You can have it.”
I still don’t know why he looked directly at me when he made that comment. I should have said, “No, you keep it, I really don’t like gold-painted wood and aquamarine satin.” I thought about that all the way to the U-haul company where Leon and a few of my other cousins cheerfully loaded the sheet-laden couch, chair and glass-top table into the truck. The table was heavy and it took three grunting, sweaty cousins to hoist it into the trailer. They stopped for a beer break in between grunts and back strain. Then suddenly, I opened my mouth to tell them that I didn’t want this “crap”, but the words stuck in my throat as though some unseen hand reached up to choke me, preventing me from breathing. They didn’t look too pleased with my expression.
“But—but,” I stuttered.
Their narrowed eyes and perched lips indicated that unloading all that heavy furniture was not going to happen. The blood-red-and white-trimmed crystal lamp was to ride in the back of my car, cushioned by blankets and down comforters to keep the crystals from shattering. Each crystal had been lovingly wrapped in tissue paper by my cousin’s wife, Portia. She was probably on her knees thanking God that she wasn’t going to be shamed into keeping this monstrous stuff. What had I ever done to Aunt Ruby to be saddled with her furniture?
I was a dutiful niece. I visited and often read to her. I smiled at her, told her jokes and ignored her grimaces of laughing pain. I even combed and styled her sparse hair until it fell out and then bought her flamboyant wigs to cover her smooth pate.
She didn’t even leave it to me, I wailed inwardly, as I watched the chair, tables and finally the couch being wrestled into my living room. Leon transported the crystal lamp to the marble-top table and with a jaunty salute, a quick kiss on my forehead, and a military about-face, he and my cousins left me to contemplate my fate.
I sank into the chair and pouted. Then suddenly, a vision of my once beautiful Aunt Ruby raised itself from the couch and said, “Hi baby, you remember when I got this couch? I was so proud of myself.” She smiled at me with that flirtatious smile that used to allow her to get her way with everybody in the family.
“But Ruby,” I said, “This…this Louis the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, whatever, it’s just so… so…”
“Beautiful,” she finished, rubbing a ghostly hand over the satin seat cushions.
“I had to work really hard to get this, baby. I know you probably don’t remember that I used to work in that old white couple’s house. I
used to work my fingers to the bone for them.”
I remembered that they were an “old money” rich couple that Ruby worked for. My aunt sure could clean. Her own house was always so spotless that we were afraid to sit on the floor. And we never dreamed of sitting on her furniture.
“Yes, Ruby,” I said, “I do remember them.” She smiled a little sadly, perhaps reminiscing about the past.
And then I thought to myself, “Ruby, if it’s the last thing you do, you are going to get this couch,” but then she floated up from it, grabbed the back of the gilt and steadied herself.
“I guess I haven’t gotten the hang of this ghostly visitation stuff yet,” she said and giggled.
I laughed out loud then suddenly remembered just how much I missed her famous laugh.
“I had to clean day and night for years to get this furniture,” she said. “I sacrificed and ate beans, just so I could get it. I looked in the store window and gazed at that furniture every day while I waited for the bus to take me home. I always knew that I was going to be “high-class folk” when I finally got it in my house. I scrubbed a lot of floors for this couch. And it’s Louis the Fourteenth, by the way. He was French.”
“Aunt Ruby, you were always high-class people, but it’s still dead-king furniture,” I said stubbornly.
“Just sit on it for me, baby,” she said, fading just a little in her sweet soprano voice. “My biggest regret is that I didn’t sit on my furniture when I had the chance. I always thought that it was too pretty to sit on.”
“You were prettier than the furniture, Aunt Ruby,” I said, remembering all of the beautiful gifts she’d ever given me and now realizing just how hard she had to clean to buy them for me. To this day, I see her twisting her fine hips and popping her long bleach chapped fingers, teaching me how to dance the Four Corners and the Mashed Potato. I also see us sitting in her kitchen while she pressed and curled my hair on a sunny Easter day. I can still smell the scent of singed hair. She always told me that the path to beauty was slicked with hair grease and Marcel curling irons. Tears clogged my eyes as she smiled at me one last time, with that fabulous gap-toothed grin that I had seen in all of her younger pictures. I blew her a kiss as she disappeared like spray mist from a perfume bottle. I got up from the chair and finally sat on the couch.
“I guess from now on, I’ll consider this dead queen furniture. And I’ll sit on it every day in your honor,” I said. As the sun sparkled on the ruby crystals of the lamp, I rested on the couch made for a king but fit for a queen.
From the love anthology, "Journeys of Love Voices of The Heart," Coauthors Hillary Roy and Rose Mitchell
When my Aunt Ruby died several years ago, I was stuck with her furniture. I can’t tell you why, it just happened. After a long, fruitless battle with breast cancer, which ravaged her once luscious curves and ended her life; all that remained was her furniture.
She didn’t just die…she faded away. She breathed slowly then drifted off on a wave of painkilling morphine. We all sat around the bed, not quite realizing that it was over. Finally, we shook ourselves out of the stupor of what seemed like an endless vigil. After all the arrangements had been made, we read the will.
She left the furniture to her son, Leon. He took one last look at the ornate carved curls and gilded wood amidst the satin embroidered seat cushions and said, “I couldn’t sit on that “crap” when I was a kid so why would I want to sit on it now? You can have it.”
I still don’t know why he looked directly at me when he made that comment. I should have said, “No, you keep it, I really don’t like gold-painted wood and aquamarine satin.” I thought about that all the way to the U-haul company where Leon and a few of my other cousins cheerfully loaded the sheet-laden couch, chair and glass-top table into the truck. The table was heavy and it took three grunting, sweaty cousins to hoist it into the trailer. They stopped for a beer break in between grunts and back strain. Then suddenly, I opened my mouth to tell them that I didn’t want this “crap”, but the words stuck in my throat as though some unseen hand reached up to choke me, preventing me from breathing. They didn’t look too pleased with my expression.
“But—but,” I stuttered.
Their narrowed eyes and perched lips indicated that unloading all that heavy furniture was not going to happen. The blood-red-and white-trimmed crystal lamp was to ride in the back of my car, cushioned by blankets and down comforters to keep the crystals from shattering. Each crystal had been lovingly wrapped in tissue paper by my cousin’s wife, Portia. She was probably on her knees thanking God that she wasn’t going to be shamed into keeping this monstrous stuff. What had I ever done to Aunt Ruby to be saddled with her furniture?
I was a dutiful niece. I visited and often read to her. I smiled at her, told her jokes and ignored her grimaces of laughing pain. I even combed and styled her sparse hair until it fell out and then bought her flamboyant wigs to cover her smooth pate.
She didn’t even leave it to me, I wailed inwardly, as I watched the chair, tables and finally the couch being wrestled into my living room. Leon transported the crystal lamp to the marble-top table and with a jaunty salute, a quick kiss on my forehead, and a military about-face, he and my cousins left me to contemplate my fate.
I sank into the chair and pouted. Then suddenly, a vision of my once beautiful Aunt Ruby raised itself from the couch and said, “Hi baby, you remember when I got this couch? I was so proud of myself.” She smiled at me with that flirtatious smile that used to allow her to get her way with everybody in the family.
“But Ruby,” I said, “This…this Louis the Fifteenth, Sixteenth, whatever, it’s just so… so…”
“Beautiful,” she finished, rubbing a ghostly hand over the satin seat cushions.
“I had to work really hard to get this, baby. I know you probably don’t remember that I used to work in that old white couple’s house. I
used to work my fingers to the bone for them.”
I remembered that they were an “old money” rich couple that Ruby worked for. My aunt sure could clean. Her own house was always so spotless that we were afraid to sit on the floor. And we never dreamed of sitting on her furniture.
“Yes, Ruby,” I said, “I do remember them.” She smiled a little sadly, perhaps reminiscing about the past.
And then I thought to myself, “Ruby, if it’s the last thing you do, you are going to get this couch,” but then she floated up from it, grabbed the back of the gilt and steadied herself.
“I guess I haven’t gotten the hang of this ghostly visitation stuff yet,” she said and giggled.
I laughed out loud then suddenly remembered just how much I missed her famous laugh.
“I had to clean day and night for years to get this furniture,” she said. “I sacrificed and ate beans, just so I could get it. I looked in the store window and gazed at that furniture every day while I waited for the bus to take me home. I always knew that I was going to be “high-class folk” when I finally got it in my house. I scrubbed a lot of floors for this couch. And it’s Louis the Fourteenth, by the way. He was French.”
“Aunt Ruby, you were always high-class people, but it’s still dead-king furniture,” I said stubbornly.
“Just sit on it for me, baby,” she said, fading just a little in her sweet soprano voice. “My biggest regret is that I didn’t sit on my furniture when I had the chance. I always thought that it was too pretty to sit on.”
“You were prettier than the furniture, Aunt Ruby,” I said, remembering all of the beautiful gifts she’d ever given me and now realizing just how hard she had to clean to buy them for me. To this day, I see her twisting her fine hips and popping her long bleach chapped fingers, teaching me how to dance the Four Corners and the Mashed Potato. I also see us sitting in her kitchen while she pressed and curled my hair on a sunny Easter day. I can still smell the scent of singed hair. She always told me that the path to beauty was slicked with hair grease and Marcel curling irons. Tears clogged my eyes as she smiled at me one last time, with that fabulous gap-toothed grin that I had seen in all of her younger pictures. I blew her a kiss as she disappeared like spray mist from a perfume bottle. I got up from the chair and finally sat on the couch.
“I guess from now on, I’ll consider this dead queen furniture. And I’ll sit on it every day in your honor,” I said. As the sun sparkled on the ruby crystals of the lamp, I rested on the couch made for a king but fit for a queen.
From the love anthology, "Journeys of Love Voices of The Heart," Coauthors Hillary Roy and Rose Mitchell
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
A New Lease
A new lease on life…a new lease on life…sometimes that’s the only thing we can ask for when hard times come and nothing ever seems to go our way. Not the job, or marriage/relationship, not our finances or the things we need to rid ourselves of most. Like the “dirty” little habits that keep popping up in our lives. It doesn’t matter what they are…that drink, that drug…that addiction to love. Whatever it is, we’ve got to remember that when we fall “it’s never too late to get off the ground and do the things we want to do in life.” This simple truth comes, from a person, who knows this more than most.
When I read an article, about a 43 year old man playing football for Clark Atlanta University as a tight end, I laughed and thought to myself, what would an old, has been, need to prove at his age? He’s certainly no Michael Jordan, George Foreman or any other well known athlete. But a man, with heart and desire to show that he wasn’t giving up on life. Jeff Chaskin was finally learning to turn it around after having struggled from alcohol and drug addiction for more than 25 years. Not only was he doing it for himself but his family, the wife and 8 children that he loved so much. And he wasn’t going to let the fact that he had been arrested just 1 year prior for cocaine possession stop him from doing just that. In his glory days he was a successful businessman with a thriving lawn care business but nothing could shield him from the influences of “the fast life.” One might say that Chaskin was suffering from more than a deep addiction, he was suffering from a case of more money, more problems. But as fate would have it, 8 months of prison, reading the bible and 500 hundred push ups later he was on his way to reclaiming everything that was stolen from him. Like the promising football career he lost when he was in college several years ago and the marriage that failed from his rampant drug use. Yet, even with the braces on his arthritic knees that are drained every 3 weeks and the fact that he’s the only white male player at a historically black college, simply wearing #43 on his back makes up for all of it. To see the smiles or hear the praises from his team mates and family is probably recognition enough even if it is only for a season. But what matters most is the example of the “dew season” in the life of man who could have given up but chose to run another way.
When I read an article, about a 43 year old man playing football for Clark Atlanta University as a tight end, I laughed and thought to myself, what would an old, has been, need to prove at his age? He’s certainly no Michael Jordan, George Foreman or any other well known athlete. But a man, with heart and desire to show that he wasn’t giving up on life. Jeff Chaskin was finally learning to turn it around after having struggled from alcohol and drug addiction for more than 25 years. Not only was he doing it for himself but his family, the wife and 8 children that he loved so much. And he wasn’t going to let the fact that he had been arrested just 1 year prior for cocaine possession stop him from doing just that. In his glory days he was a successful businessman with a thriving lawn care business but nothing could shield him from the influences of “the fast life.” One might say that Chaskin was suffering from more than a deep addiction, he was suffering from a case of more money, more problems. But as fate would have it, 8 months of prison, reading the bible and 500 hundred push ups later he was on his way to reclaiming everything that was stolen from him. Like the promising football career he lost when he was in college several years ago and the marriage that failed from his rampant drug use. Yet, even with the braces on his arthritic knees that are drained every 3 weeks and the fact that he’s the only white male player at a historically black college, simply wearing #43 on his back makes up for all of it. To see the smiles or hear the praises from his team mates and family is probably recognition enough even if it is only for a season. But what matters most is the example of the “dew season” in the life of man who could have given up but chose to run another way.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
"I Wanna Kidnap You"....featuring Mi Mi, Nakita Cook Young & Hillary Roy
If you've never been kidnapped before..today "We Wanna Kidnap You"....
“I Wanna Kidnap You”….
By “Mi Mi”
I wanna kidnap you…..
And go back to summer days
When days were hot
Nights were even hotter
I wanna kidnap you….
Never setting you free
And hold you till you see
That everything is better
When it’s you and me
The nights that I lay beside you
Holding on to thoughts of your essence
Drawing you closer with every breath that I take
No longer awake because I only have you when I dream
So what does this mean?
I wanna kidnap you…
You're in my head, never really there,
Never really where I'd always hoped you'd be
Can never see you in a way I'd hoped I'd see
I wanna kidnap you…..
All I wanna do is be, with you
Whenever, wherever, however that means.
Hoping that in this world when I dream
You will invade my reality
I wanna kidnap you….
This seems to be the only place where I am at peace…
Nights that I lay beside you
In this bed that we share
In this bed of air, in this bed of nothing there
Nothing there but just air
I wanna kidnap you….
“I Wanna Kidnap You”……..
By Nakita Cook Young
I committed a crime of the heart….I shanghaied and took my lover by force
I could wait no longer as my emotions would no longer stand still
I was inflicted and overcome mentally and physically
with interludes of romantic voyages and adventures of desire
The sensation came with such amazing speed and suddenness and
before I knew it I was taking my love against his will!
I acted exactly as my heart dictated…and I used my womanhood as my choice of
weapon; I stalked and prowled every inch of his body with my unlawful intentions;
I locked him up in my love and held him captive, with my unbridled kisses and
touches and my Karma Sutra body positions!
I’m not in command of my desire, passion and sexual prowess
I can no longer help myself I’ve got to get close to my divine so
I drugged, coerced and abducted him with my sexual appeal
I kept him restrained by sedating him with hot shots of my sweetness!
Boy you got me so gone over you my mind is slippin
with just the mere thought of you my love starts to flow and I start trippin
but, I don’t give fugg ….The jonz in my bonz got me thinking crazy
and I’m down to do whatever it takes to get next to you baby!
even if that’s locking you up and “throwing away the key” and keeping you prisoner!
I’m Never, Never gonna give you up even if the cops come knockin
There ain’t a damn thing that I won’t do to keep you as a hostage
I got you right where I want you gagged and bound in my allurement
Nothing else even matters to me but, my ransom and demands…
Touch all places that make me hot, love me from the bottom to the top,
and make me scream and holla!
This wild and excited unlawful escapade escalated and intensified
I got caught up in the rapture and swept away in the sexual euphoria
I was possessed by my sexual insanity and got hung up with passion
And that’s when it happened my kidnapping plans were foiled and I became his capture.
Thoughts of passion and sweet sensations drove me to do it
He takes my body over the edge with a feeling of awe!
It was a crime of the heart, an act of love is… necessarily punishable by law
I can't help from thinking this is how it’s suppose to be I belong to you…and
baby you belong to me!
“I Wanna Kidnap You”…….
By Hillary Roy
This..
is…
a stick up..
And I wanna kidnap you..
I wanna pick pocket every emotion running through you
Hold u, console u
Put u up for ransom
Then.. kidnap u….
Again, and again and again
No need to try and hide from me
I love u this is my decree
And earth is only but so wide
Can’t show the love I feel inside
This is a stick up
and
I
wanna
kidnap
you
I’ll trace the footprints of your steps in sand
And when I do, “you’ll” do, as “I” command….
8 hours, 20 minutes, 6 seconds will be
Almost as long as eternity
I’m just securing what’s mine you see
My prize possession he’ll always be
I’ll cook, I’ll clean, I’ll keep it real…
Give him a love that’s etched in steel
And passion that is oh so thick,
oh trust me “he’d” be turning tricks
So yes I’m guilty of this crime
I’ll thankfully do whatever time
Cuz I’m just securing what’s mine you see
And making sure we’ll always be
“we”…..
“I Wanna Kidnap You”….
By “Mi Mi”
I wanna kidnap you…..
And go back to summer days
When days were hot
Nights were even hotter
I wanna kidnap you….
Never setting you free
And hold you till you see
That everything is better
When it’s you and me
The nights that I lay beside you
Holding on to thoughts of your essence
Drawing you closer with every breath that I take
No longer awake because I only have you when I dream
So what does this mean?
I wanna kidnap you…
You're in my head, never really there,
Never really where I'd always hoped you'd be
Can never see you in a way I'd hoped I'd see
I wanna kidnap you…..
All I wanna do is be, with you
Whenever, wherever, however that means.
Hoping that in this world when I dream
You will invade my reality
I wanna kidnap you….
This seems to be the only place where I am at peace…
Nights that I lay beside you
In this bed that we share
In this bed of air, in this bed of nothing there
Nothing there but just air
I wanna kidnap you….
“I Wanna Kidnap You”……..
By Nakita Cook Young
I committed a crime of the heart….I shanghaied and took my lover by force
I could wait no longer as my emotions would no longer stand still
I was inflicted and overcome mentally and physically
with interludes of romantic voyages and adventures of desire
The sensation came with such amazing speed and suddenness and
before I knew it I was taking my love against his will!
I acted exactly as my heart dictated…and I used my womanhood as my choice of
weapon; I stalked and prowled every inch of his body with my unlawful intentions;
I locked him up in my love and held him captive, with my unbridled kisses and
touches and my Karma Sutra body positions!
I’m not in command of my desire, passion and sexual prowess
I can no longer help myself I’ve got to get close to my divine so
I drugged, coerced and abducted him with my sexual appeal
I kept him restrained by sedating him with hot shots of my sweetness!
Boy you got me so gone over you my mind is slippin
with just the mere thought of you my love starts to flow and I start trippin
but, I don’t give fugg ….The jonz in my bonz got me thinking crazy
and I’m down to do whatever it takes to get next to you baby!
even if that’s locking you up and “throwing away the key” and keeping you prisoner!
I’m Never, Never gonna give you up even if the cops come knockin
There ain’t a damn thing that I won’t do to keep you as a hostage
I got you right where I want you gagged and bound in my allurement
Nothing else even matters to me but, my ransom and demands…
Touch all places that make me hot, love me from the bottom to the top,
and make me scream and holla!
This wild and excited unlawful escapade escalated and intensified
I got caught up in the rapture and swept away in the sexual euphoria
I was possessed by my sexual insanity and got hung up with passion
And that’s when it happened my kidnapping plans were foiled and I became his capture.
Thoughts of passion and sweet sensations drove me to do it
He takes my body over the edge with a feeling of awe!
It was a crime of the heart, an act of love is… necessarily punishable by law
I can't help from thinking this is how it’s suppose to be I belong to you…and
baby you belong to me!
“I Wanna Kidnap You”…….
By Hillary Roy
This..
is…
a stick up..
And I wanna kidnap you..
I wanna pick pocket every emotion running through you
Hold u, console u
Put u up for ransom
Then.. kidnap u….
Again, and again and again
No need to try and hide from me
I love u this is my decree
And earth is only but so wide
Can’t show the love I feel inside
This is a stick up
and
I
wanna
kidnap
you
I’ll trace the footprints of your steps in sand
And when I do, “you’ll” do, as “I” command….
8 hours, 20 minutes, 6 seconds will be
Almost as long as eternity
I’m just securing what’s mine you see
My prize possession he’ll always be
I’ll cook, I’ll clean, I’ll keep it real…
Give him a love that’s etched in steel
And passion that is oh so thick,
oh trust me “he’d” be turning tricks
So yes I’m guilty of this crime
I’ll thankfully do whatever time
Cuz I’m just securing what’s mine you see
And making sure we’ll always be
“we”…..
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Who Cares About Gail King...My Name Is.......
Last Saturday I went to one of the most powerful empowerment sessions I’ve attended in a long time. But, I gotta admit, I was a little intimidated. When I first walked through the doors of the CAU recreation center (that’s short for Clark Atlanta University) I could feel the tension in the air as more than 100 women from all over the Atlanta sat in upward poses as if they were being auditioned for a top model shoot. There were Prada bags, weaves and Mac cosmetic adorned faces that were so flawless I knew I couldn't’t compete. And why would I want to since this isn’t what that day represented. At least not for me and probably not for any of the other women who attended the first annual I AM WEEN (Women in Entertainment Empowerment Network) Tour held in Atlanta. It wasn’t about “appearances” or profiling, it wasn’t about name dropping either, it was simply a day, for students and women of all backgrounds to come together and gain insight from some of the hottest trailblazers in the entertainment industry.
From the moment I heard Lauren Lake speak I knew the day was going to be special. Not only is she an attorney but also a motivational speaker, a television personality, author of the book “Girl! Let Me Tell You,” and former host of the HGTV show “Spice Up My Kitchen.” She along with 6 others panelists including: Nina Brown ( V-103’s morning show producer), Phaedra Parks (Entertainment Attorney, The Parks Group/Executive Consulting Producer of BET's “Tiny & Toya” show), Terrence J. (BET's 106 & Park co-host), Shanti Das(Executive Vice President of Universal Motown), Chaka Zulu (Disturbing the Peace Records, Ludacris’ label), Stacey Lee ( Former Miss Michigan ), Kaira Akita Whitehead (Actor, Tyler Perry Films) graced us with an afternoon of pure, unadulterated honesty and wisdom. At times I often felt like I was sitting in my living room talking to a few of my best friends because the conversations flowed that easily. I listened carefully as Nina Brown detailed the steps she took to become the producer of one of Atlanta's hottest morning radio shows. And even at 23yrs of age she wasn’t going to let that number or some veteran radio talent stop her from pursuing that dream. So with a little determination, tenacity and a strong willingness to learn she made it happen. Next up was Phaedra Parks, an well known entertainment attorney who credited her entrance into the business after having a conversation with a well known radio personality and mentor. But when Terrence J.from BET payed homage to his mother for being the catalyst and driving force for his career I couldn't help but feel his pride. He spoke of a young woman who became pregnant at 17 years of age who never had the chance to pursue her own dreams therefore, she became the fuel that ignited his hope of entering the entertainment industry. And with that, came the promise, to return every, single hope and dream his mom had loss. But the moment that stood out for me the most was when a woman in the audience asked how she could rekindle a tie she had established with Oprah's best friend, Gail King. It was a chance meeting she had with her many, many years ago that still had her feeling as if she had missed her shot at fame and fortune. After all was said, a very direct Ms. Lake looked her straight in the eye and replied…”Stop waiting for Gail King or anyone else to give you what you already have, create what “you” want for yourself.”
As I meditated on her words I remembered all my mentors, friends, and the people in my life that I had waited on to "take me" where I wanted to go. I wanted the gain without the pain and that's just not how the universe works. Simply talking about the place that I wanted to be wasn’t going to be enough. I had to have a vision and position myself for God’s blessings to flow through me and around me. I had to learn that I could no longer be a “pity party mess” and just dew what I needed to dew for myself. Then and only then did the visions of my life, not anyone elses become clear. One seed at a time I planted and used the gifts and talents God gave me and with his grace and hard work I'll continue to dew my thing.
From the moment I heard Lauren Lake speak I knew the day was going to be special. Not only is she an attorney but also a motivational speaker, a television personality, author of the book “Girl! Let Me Tell You,” and former host of the HGTV show “Spice Up My Kitchen.” She along with 6 others panelists including: Nina Brown ( V-103’s morning show producer), Phaedra Parks (Entertainment Attorney, The Parks Group/Executive Consulting Producer of BET's “Tiny & Toya” show), Terrence J. (BET's 106 & Park co-host), Shanti Das(Executive Vice President of Universal Motown), Chaka Zulu (Disturbing the Peace Records, Ludacris’ label), Stacey Lee ( Former Miss Michigan ), Kaira Akita Whitehead (Actor, Tyler Perry Films) graced us with an afternoon of pure, unadulterated honesty and wisdom. At times I often felt like I was sitting in my living room talking to a few of my best friends because the conversations flowed that easily. I listened carefully as Nina Brown detailed the steps she took to become the producer of one of Atlanta's hottest morning radio shows. And even at 23yrs of age she wasn’t going to let that number or some veteran radio talent stop her from pursuing that dream. So with a little determination, tenacity and a strong willingness to learn she made it happen. Next up was Phaedra Parks, an well known entertainment attorney who credited her entrance into the business after having a conversation with a well known radio personality and mentor. But when Terrence J.from BET payed homage to his mother for being the catalyst and driving force for his career I couldn't help but feel his pride. He spoke of a young woman who became pregnant at 17 years of age who never had the chance to pursue her own dreams therefore, she became the fuel that ignited his hope of entering the entertainment industry. And with that, came the promise, to return every, single hope and dream his mom had loss. But the moment that stood out for me the most was when a woman in the audience asked how she could rekindle a tie she had established with Oprah's best friend, Gail King. It was a chance meeting she had with her many, many years ago that still had her feeling as if she had missed her shot at fame and fortune. After all was said, a very direct Ms. Lake looked her straight in the eye and replied…”Stop waiting for Gail King or anyone else to give you what you already have, create what “you” want for yourself.”
As I meditated on her words I remembered all my mentors, friends, and the people in my life that I had waited on to "take me" where I wanted to go. I wanted the gain without the pain and that's just not how the universe works. Simply talking about the place that I wanted to be wasn’t going to be enough. I had to have a vision and position myself for God’s blessings to flow through me and around me. I had to learn that I could no longer be a “pity party mess” and just dew what I needed to dew for myself. Then and only then did the visions of my life, not anyone elses become clear. One seed at a time I planted and used the gifts and talents God gave me and with his grace and hard work I'll continue to dew my thing.
Friday, August 21, 2009
Momma Knows Best......
For all the talk of “momma knows best” this time, I can say, I certainly agree, as celebrity recording artist Khandi Burris and character on “the Real Housewives of Atlanta,” is slowly, but surely, finding out. Not for the obvious of course, i.e. the fact that her soon-to-be husband (so we think) has 6 kids by more than one woman, or because her fiancé won’t “man up” long enough to have a conversation with his future mother-in-law just to set the record straight but because it’s just plain stupid that a woman with everything going for her would make such a hasty decision to say yes to marrying someone she hasn’t even known that long. Notice I didn’t say stupid, because many of us have taken that trip in more ways than one, fortunately we were able to get off that cruise ship and make our way back home. Earth to Khandi..it’s time to come home now sweetie….Royal Caribbean has ended that tour. Nevertheless, I find myself feeling more and more sorry for her as I watch episode after episode, as she pleads for her mother to accept the fact that she’s happy with this man. And I can’t help but wonder why she can’t for one minute see the other side. Happiness is fleeting but peace is everlasting and right now it looks like they’ll be no peace in the foreseeable future. I’m not being a pessimistic I’m just calling it as I seem em. Although, I’m not a mom or married or dated enough men with children to make a completely solid case on this, I do know one thing for sure and that, is that, if I had a child he/she would have to be completely, 100%, on board with our union. I also know that my family: Mom, Dad, Aunt Betty, Uncle Lawrence, Aunt Smoothie, Uncle Lester, Aunt Boobee, Cousin Frankie, Sister Susie and the rest of my crew would have to be on board too if family meant that much to me. Does that mean that every bit of that person has to be loved by family, probably not, but there would have to be a mutual respect going on in order for me to walk down that aisle or else….we ain’t getting married! I also look at the future implications, that should they just happen to divorce (God forbid) how it would affect all of his kids, not just her daughter, but re-routing an entire family from one location to another to be with yet another woman or how seeing daddy fathering children with several different women looks (another topic that I know will cause a stir) or the fact that this young woman could very well pay child support or/alimony to this man (get a prenup please) or what this whole situation might do to her own family unit is what I question most. Again, I’m not a pessimist, just a realist and a woman who knows that no amount of great “wa wa,” money, or loneliness wouldn’t make me think twice before I, say, “I dew.”
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
The Truth Is......
For the past few days I’ve sat silently, as I watched replays on CNN of a dog and pony show taking place during the town hall meetings over one of the most serious issues our country has had to face in a very long time. And right now, I can no longer hold my tongue. And since this blog is about life, lessons and truth, I will try my best, to share my truth, without offending anyone. I cannot speak for the masses, I cannot speak for your truth but what I can do, is share my reason, for wanting health care reform. Perhaps if we listened to the bitter words of a woman’s family who had to bury her because she died from cancer simply because she was unable to pay for medication or have radical surgery to reverse her circumstance. Perhaps if we listened to the cries of young child suffering from a bone marrow disease but unable to receive a blood transplant because his parents couldn’t afford to pay for hospitalization. Or, perhaps if we saw the tears of a woman who no longer had a job because the small business she worked for, for over 10 years, could no longer afford to pay her and now she struggles to pay healthcare on her own even though she had always managed to stay healthy by grace along with her 3 kids. No longer can I stay silent when just a few years ago, I had to face, a similar dilemma. I was unemployed but was fortunate enough to have received a contract sales position that lasted all of 3 months. I was grateful for the opportunity but knew in my heart that I had just enough to eat, pay for rent and fill up my gas tank. There was absolutely, positively, no way that I would be able to afford healthcare. Before this time, I was like any other hard-working individual. I had a job that paid well and a healthcare plan that paid for everything. Yet, when I found myself being wheeled away on a stretcher after being told I had to have emergency surgery my glory days of healthcare security became just a memory. Not having insurance meant that I would be responsible for paying for everything and everyone. The doctor, the nurse, the transporter, the radiologist, the bed, the wraps, the meals, the swabs, the person who wiped my backside and I could go on and on. Fortunately, there was a plan in place for the “uninsured” and that plan was called “Charity Care.” Had it not been for this, I probably would have asked them to keep me on that stretcher because I truly had no way to pay for the $50,000+ surgery they stuck me with. Am I saying that people shouldn’t be responsible for paying their bills if service is performed, absolutely not, but if it wasn’t for programs like these, for special circumstances like this one, what would people do? They would do, exactly what so many others are doing; lose their homes, file for bankruptcy, take out second mortgages, borrow, plead, beg and steal or, simply, doing nothing at all. Ultimately, they are caving into the pressure and stress of not being able to take care of their health. I cannot speak, and will not speak on whether this issue is about “the haves or the have nots” or someone who is Black, White, Asian or Latino. But what I know for sure, is that it’s about people, simply expressing, a lack of compassion for anyone other than themselves. And a lack of wanting meaningful dialogue to discuss both sides of the coin which really is what matters most. Not what you’re gonna lose, or how much political leverage you’ll gain but what you and your family, and your family’s family, and your children’s family can treasure most. The most important resource we have, which stands above the dollar and above any color line…is what we call LIFE. Perhaps in dew season, or this season, some folks will get that part right.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Beating the D
The other day I stood quietly by my locker as I watched a coworker speed pass me like his life depended on it. I managed to catch his eye briefly, and in that moment I saw him carefully wrap his hands around a bottle that he held ever so tight. He was visibly agitated and when I asked if he was okay he responded softly then replied “I will be, just as soon, as I take, my meds.” I tried not to see what “meds” he was talking about because this was no business of anyone else but him. But before I could turn away he stuck the bottle in my hands and all my eyes could focus on were the words D-E-P-R-E-S-S-I-O-N. It was as if they were superimposed not just me, but anyone else who was listening. And then I froze. I was unable to think of what to say next. It was awkward and I had no real way to recover? So instead of responding with some sort of generic response my mind starting flashing back to previous conversations I’d had with him. He was 26-years-old, black, good-looking and the father of a beautiful baby girl. I know none of this really matters but what it showed me was that depression had no labels and its ill effect can strike any of us. He and I flirted with each other months before this, until I reminded him that I was "old enough to be his momma” speech, every time he asked me out. I was flattered, but what I felt, that day, was an overwhelming sense of “what if?” What if I had chosen to go out with this young man. Or what if I had entered a relationship with him. What would it have meant for us? Would I be able to handle the momentary episodes that often come with this crippling disease? Would I continue to be the strong woman that I so often profess to be and love my friend through what could be many rocky roads ahead? Or, would I simply walk away without trying to understand? I also thought of my own family, the cousin with bipolar, another who is no longer with us but was drawn to a state of confinement unable to leave her home for fear of what might be outside her door or the grandmother I never met. The one I’d always heard stories of, the plain woman, the talented yet meek woman who died in a sanitarium or crazy home for those who knew differently back then. And when my journey was over, I thought of all the other friends, family, coworkers and strangers I’d had conversations with who proved themselves brave enough every time they woke up or walked out their own front door. Beating the D….beating the stereotype that depression can sometimes hold against them, the stigma of the D that many fight to break free from everyday. And in that moment I smiled to myself, not because I was grateful to God for allowing me to be spared from this but by allowing me to be in the path of that young man to simply say “It’s okay.” “Pray.” “It’s going to be okay.” Whether we know it or not, perhaps dewing, or saying something, just might be enough.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Does My Thinking Need An Adjustment?
Loving, caring, hard-working, successful, dedicated mother, multi-talented professional and independent woman. These are the words that describe my long time sister friend, Lisa Barclay. Since she was the winner of my blog challenge last month it only seems right to share her post. And if you'd like to read more stories from Lisa pick up a copy of my latest book "Journeys of Love Voices of the Heart" available now at: www.HillabeesandRoses.com. Enjoy her post!
Does My Thinking Need An Adjustment?
I try to start most of my work days with a devotional reading. You know, try to get my mind right as I prepare to do the corporate shuffle and deal with daily life. Today’s message resonated with me in a really big way because I’ve been going through some things in my personal life and as a result, I’ve had a lot on my mind. The message told a story of a woman who planned how her whole life would be in her head and when it didn’t turn out that way she was angry and frustrated. In her mind her husband was not the knight in shining armor as he practiced his daily ritual of coming home from work, offering no help around the house, criticizing her weight and the things she didn’t do; all the while assuming his couch potato, channel surfing position. Her house wasn’t the Elle Décor picture of perfection that she had hoped for. Things never seemed to stay in their place. The floor always needed mopping and the sink had a never ending pile of dishes. Her kids were not the perfect little angels she dreamed of because they never listened and caused daily chaos in the house. Over time, this woman’s daily mantra became, “Why bother? No one else does?” She let life’s disappointments block her view of the blessings in her own life. Sadly, she couldn’t see beyond “what wasn’t” in her life.
I have to admit I started seeing myself in that very same light and have often been guilty of adopting that same attitude. The message asked if we realized when our thinking needed an adjustment. Do we check ourselves to see if our thoughts have any true merit or have we allowed negative energy to influence our minds and our hearts? As an imperfect person, these questions give me great pause because I know that my thinking is not where it should be. I am grateful for the daily blessings in my life - my home, my son, food, clothing, a job, my health and so many other things. I often think about and pray for the people who are not as blessed and fortunate as I. Yet,in spite of my gratitude I have to stop and ask myself if I need to change my own thinking. As a self proclaimed, strong Black woman, I know I do. And just like the message that was based off of the scripture (Philippians 4:8-9), that change, would create more peace. In dew season and with God’s help, as I think differently and act differently the blessings of peace will rain down on my life. And that, is a much better, option to me.
Does My Thinking Need An Adjustment?
I try to start most of my work days with a devotional reading. You know, try to get my mind right as I prepare to do the corporate shuffle and deal with daily life. Today’s message resonated with me in a really big way because I’ve been going through some things in my personal life and as a result, I’ve had a lot on my mind. The message told a story of a woman who planned how her whole life would be in her head and when it didn’t turn out that way she was angry and frustrated. In her mind her husband was not the knight in shining armor as he practiced his daily ritual of coming home from work, offering no help around the house, criticizing her weight and the things she didn’t do; all the while assuming his couch potato, channel surfing position. Her house wasn’t the Elle Décor picture of perfection that she had hoped for. Things never seemed to stay in their place. The floor always needed mopping and the sink had a never ending pile of dishes. Her kids were not the perfect little angels she dreamed of because they never listened and caused daily chaos in the house. Over time, this woman’s daily mantra became, “Why bother? No one else does?” She let life’s disappointments block her view of the blessings in her own life. Sadly, she couldn’t see beyond “what wasn’t” in her life.
I have to admit I started seeing myself in that very same light and have often been guilty of adopting that same attitude. The message asked if we realized when our thinking needed an adjustment. Do we check ourselves to see if our thoughts have any true merit or have we allowed negative energy to influence our minds and our hearts? As an imperfect person, these questions give me great pause because I know that my thinking is not where it should be. I am grateful for the daily blessings in my life - my home, my son, food, clothing, a job, my health and so many other things. I often think about and pray for the people who are not as blessed and fortunate as I. Yet,in spite of my gratitude I have to stop and ask myself if I need to change my own thinking. As a self proclaimed, strong Black woman, I know I do. And just like the message that was based off of the scripture (Philippians 4:8-9), that change, would create more peace. In dew season and with God’s help, as I think differently and act differently the blessings of peace will rain down on my life. And that, is a much better, option to me.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Loving Myself Whole
Several years ago I found a letter from a lover who had written to a woman in another country. She lived, in Japan, I believe. When I read it, I was devastated, broken and numb. I suppose it was because we had dated for a number of years. Once I got to the end, I packed up my things, and raced out of his front door. There were no words that came from my mouth; I was simply in a state of disbelief and very, very angry. And with all that anger, came feelings of insecurity and doubt. I started picking myself apart, wondering what part of me he didn't love. Was I not attractive enough? Smart enough? Kind enough? Was it because I didn't have the long, silky hair that she had? Or was it, as he used to tell me, that I needed a more submissive spirit? As the questions continued to ring in my head so did my anger. So I used the address of the other woman that I managed to jot down a few days before to find some answers. I wanted all of my frustration and bitterness to be directed toward her. Not him. Not me. I asked how long they had been seeing one another although it really didn’t matter. I asked if she had also loved him even though I could care less. And then I wished her well and told her how I hoped that his mistake wouldn’t be repeated with her. And in that moment I found closure because I knew that his cheating had nothing to do with me at all. That period of my life, as difficult as it was, became the catalyst for me to stop the inner conversations of inadequacy and replace it with self love. And while there will always be the memory of that broken relationship I learned that there was more value in loving myself whole. In dew season, I pray, we all feel this way.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Power of Love: A Father's Day Message
This weekend I cried baby boo hoo tears, I mean the kind of tears you cry when you have that toothache that doesn't want to go away or the kind you cry after the passing of a loved one. And I couldn't stop them, because scene after scene I could feel the pain, torment and love Will Smith had for his son while facing a long, hard journey in the movie “The Pursuit of Happiness." Having never been a mother of anything other than a couple of cats when I was a kid I've never truly understood the bond that parents feel for their children yet I found myself not only appreciating, but respecting that bond this weekend. And, I held my candle high for the efforts and sacrifices that fathers make every day, all, in, the name of love. All too often we hear about the sacrifices of single mothers, those who have been forced to raise their children on their own. But rarely, do we hear the stories of men, especially black men, who stop at nothing to make sure that their children are fed. They work 2-3 jobs to pay for rent, bills, and food. They hustle up and down gang infested streets all hours of the night. They are our doctors, lawyers, teachers, poets, business men, athletes,janitors, construction workers, service techs, pastors, rappers, musicians and so many other men in between. But, each of them, share a common thread; the love, they have, for their kids. As I sat back and watched this movie, I witnessed a man who loss everything, his wife, his pride, even his home. But never, ever, did he lose the love he had for his son and he maintained that bond even when he didn’t have a dime to his name. He fed him, bathed him, clothed him, cheered him on in his successes and gave him wisdom that would far surpass the face on any dollar bill. He gave him his love, he gave him his presence, and nothing society says, can ever diminish that. No child support check can do it, nor can a pair of Nike shoes. So today, in honor of all fathers thank you for not giving up on us, especially the sons, daughters, nieces, nephews or children on your block or in your schools who may have been abandoned by someone else. You could have walked away, you could have turned your back, but instead you made the choice to simply love us. In dew season, I pray that each and every one of us experience this.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Oh, The Things I Will, Won't Do For Love....
I gotta admit. I’ve never been much of an organized person. Never been the type who hangs her clothes when I come home from work nor do I fold them after pulling them from the dryer. I don’t walk around with a list of daily do’s and don’ts. And rarely do I care what’s on my dinner plate. Just so long, as it’s good. That’s just not who I am, never has been, never will be, unless, it comes to choosing a mate.
For the past 20 years I’ve hopelessly struggled to stay true to my needs/wants as it relates to having a successful relationship. But, I often wondered, what’s the point? Men and women are always going to have differences therefore ya gotta roll the dice and take the good with the bad. Yet, even though I’ve held true to this mantra I still find myself changing my requirements almost as much as I change my taste in clothes.
I’ve watched them dwindle from a thesis, to a one page synopsis, all the way down to the length of a gas receipt. And while much of what I desired in my twenties still holds true in my forties, some of those qualities have slowly began to fade. Therefore, all that I have left is a list of “Things, I will, won’t do, for love.”
And so we begin…..
The Will’s
1.I will date a man with all of his teeth (minus the gold plates)
2.I will date a man whose stomach is bigger than mine (as long as it’s chiseled)
3.I will date a man with a less than perfect car (as long as it’s not his momma’s)
4.I will date a man who knows that chivalry is not dead ( I still enjoy having doors open for me even if it is only the bathroom)
5.I will date a man with a bald head ( as long as there’s no bumps on the back of his neck)
The Won’ts
1.I won’t date a man who’s cheap (in other words…frugal).
2.I won’t date a man who smokes (something about the smell annoys me)
3.I won’t date a man with more chest hair than me (bad experience, he had breasts)
4.I won’t date a man with kids (unless they’re from the same mother)
5.And finally, I won’t date for the sake of dating; I’m looking for my husband.
Generally speaking, this list idea has worked for me right up until my fairy love mother comes in to punish me for my sudden memory lapse. In other words, I tend to flip flop often, only to be stuck dating men I have no business with. And yet, I still long for that special someone the kind with the sense of humor, and pick-up lines don’t count. Or the kind who offers meaningful conversation that doesn’t include what he just ate for lunch. For those of us who still believe in the power of “the almighty list”, fairy god mother’s, fables, and knights in shining armor, all we really mean, and what we really need is…love. Or, at least that’s what I think I need. Oh well, perhaps I need another list to figure out the things I will…won’t do…for love, once and for all. In dew season, I’ll probably get it right.
For the past 20 years I’ve hopelessly struggled to stay true to my needs/wants as it relates to having a successful relationship. But, I often wondered, what’s the point? Men and women are always going to have differences therefore ya gotta roll the dice and take the good with the bad. Yet, even though I’ve held true to this mantra I still find myself changing my requirements almost as much as I change my taste in clothes.
I’ve watched them dwindle from a thesis, to a one page synopsis, all the way down to the length of a gas receipt. And while much of what I desired in my twenties still holds true in my forties, some of those qualities have slowly began to fade. Therefore, all that I have left is a list of “Things, I will, won’t do, for love.”
And so we begin…..
The Will’s
1.I will date a man with all of his teeth (minus the gold plates)
2.I will date a man whose stomach is bigger than mine (as long as it’s chiseled)
3.I will date a man with a less than perfect car (as long as it’s not his momma’s)
4.I will date a man who knows that chivalry is not dead ( I still enjoy having doors open for me even if it is only the bathroom)
5.I will date a man with a bald head ( as long as there’s no bumps on the back of his neck)
The Won’ts
1.I won’t date a man who’s cheap (in other words…frugal).
2.I won’t date a man who smokes (something about the smell annoys me)
3.I won’t date a man with more chest hair than me (bad experience, he had breasts)
4.I won’t date a man with kids (unless they’re from the same mother)
5.And finally, I won’t date for the sake of dating; I’m looking for my husband.
Generally speaking, this list idea has worked for me right up until my fairy love mother comes in to punish me for my sudden memory lapse. In other words, I tend to flip flop often, only to be stuck dating men I have no business with. And yet, I still long for that special someone the kind with the sense of humor, and pick-up lines don’t count. Or the kind who offers meaningful conversation that doesn’t include what he just ate for lunch. For those of us who still believe in the power of “the almighty list”, fairy god mother’s, fables, and knights in shining armor, all we really mean, and what we really need is…love. Or, at least that’s what I think I need. Oh well, perhaps I need another list to figure out the things I will…won’t do…for love, once and for all. In dew season, I’ll probably get it right.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
