THE DEVIL'S CLOSER THAN YOU THINK

I’ve always tried to be mindful and alert when it comes to the devil. He’s a crafty buzzard well known for running to and fro seeking whom he can devour. He comes in all shapes, sizes, and circumstances; known and unknown. Usually I’m a good judge of character; staying away from that which doesn’t mean me well. However, what do you do when the devil is closer than you think?

I was shocked when I receive a phone call from a close relative sharing what they thought would be disturbing news. Long story short one relative called to share that another relative had some very negative things to say about me. Things that took me by surprise, but didn’t leave me totally shocked because I’ve learned not to be surprised by the actions or thoughts of man. Apparently this relative feels that I’ve “gotten above myself,” that “I think I’m all that,” and that “I’m living above my means.” Hmmm did you think that when you needed a place to stay, or when you needed me to get you out of the mess that you’d gotten yourself in? Did you think that when you parked your car in a no parking zone and I had to pick you up AND pay for your car to be released? Did you think that at 1:00 in the morning when you called needing a ride or when you had a flat tire, no spare & no money to get it repaired? Tell me, did you feel like that when I dropped you and your car off AND paid for that too? Living above my means…what saddens me is knowing that my “relative” feels like this and it saddens me even more that they couldn’t talk to me about it. So the more I processed this I came to the conclusion that this is probably one person that’s not in my corner of elevation. Knowing that I now have to put this person in the same corner with people that I can’t trust saddened me because this corner is reserved for those that would rather tolerate me than celebrate with me. This corner is for those that have secretly harbored ill feelings against me in their hearts; those that hardened their hearts and refused to treat me like I treat them. These are the people that remind me of the song that says, “Smiling in my face all the time they want to take my place, backstabbers.” These are the people that the devil has used to walk in my home carrying havoc on the bottom of their shoes. You see the devil knows that the only way he can enter my home is if he’s invited and what better way to enter than to come in with a “friend” and what better “friend” than a relative.

When all was said and done I shared with my informant that I wasn’t angry nor was I upset. I knew that this would surprise them because back in the day I would have handled this a lot differently. I simply asked that they let them know that I received their message; coming from me these words alone would speak volumes. Nothing else was needed because you see everyone that REALLY knows me knows that being my friend is a lot better than being my foe. They know that once I take the trash out I don’t believe in bringing it back in. To my relative and/or "friends," life for me is simply this….I don’t think I’m all that, it’s you that think I’m all that. Need I say more? TGBTG

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A SERVANT'S HEART....

My daughter Shay…I’ve always known that she was special but recently I realized how precious and amazing she really is; it was the day that I stopped by her school to buy uniform shirts. As I looked for her to check the size I realized that she’d left me to go help someone chip paint off of the walls. That’s when I truly saw her heart, a heart that genuinely reaches out to help others no matter what the job may be. I used to think that Shay always had her tiny self into everything because she didn’t know how to mind her own business. Sometimes she’s so busy being involved in other people’s affairs that she failed to follow thru on her own; yet on this day my eyes were opened and I saw her in a new light. I finally saw that my Little Miss Busybody was born with a servant’s heart; a heart that reaches far beyond what’s expected or what’s needed, oftentimes helping those that most of us would turn our backs on.

A servant’s heart…. That’s the heart of a person that stays around to help after others have walked away. It’s the heart of a person that’s always giving but rarely receives. It’s a heart that will sometimes go out of their way to help only to be the person blamed when things don’t quite turn out right. Only a servant’s heart can forgive and forget, in the same hour, those that will talk about her and mistreat her. It’s the heart that will run to get lunch for a child that has a broken leg, yet is told that she can’t replace her own because she mistakenly dropped it while trying to carry both. A servant’s heart….It’s the heart that won’t think twice about spending her last dime to buy something for a sister that will think twice about spending just a dime on her. It’s the heart of a person that if hit by a car would run over to see if the driver is alright. It’s the heart of a person that may not get any academic recognitions, acknowledgements or referrals to C-5 programs, but a heart that is genuinely happy for those that do. It’s the heart of one that may never be called upon to receive a certificate in school but will offer to help carry all of the certificates to the program if needed. It’s the heart of one that’s not envious of others but says with anticipation, “mommy, next year,” after learning that she missed passing all 5 subjects of the CRCT by only a few points. It’s the heart of a person that will invite everyone to her party even though few people will invite her to theirs. It’s the heart of a person that will smile through tribulations that would make grown people cry. It’s the heart that finds the good in others that don’t look for the good in her. It’s the heart of one that waits patiently even if it means coming in second, or third, or fourth. If I, her mother, a grown woman, had Shay's heart then my life would be richer. If I had a heart that would help without complaining, one that you could always depend on no matter what, or one that would share my last with a stranger, then my world would be a better place.

Last night as I watched her sleep I couldn’t help but be amazed at how God was able to pack all of this goodness into one small, misunderstood package. It was then that a still small voice said, “You haven’t seen anything yet….” TGBTG

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I'M MOVING FORWARD

God has such a wonderful sense of humor. Yes He does. I think that’s why He loves me so; He finds me to be quite comical. The past few days I’ve had to sit back and chuckle at how He has presented a situation to me. It went a little something like this - I do something….He counters. I pray something…He answers. I sow a seed…He gives me a harvest. I listen to a song attached to an email sent to me …He sends confirmation while listening that He will give me the desires of my heart. That’s the kind of God that I serve.

For the past eight (8) months I have enjoyed being able to focus on my family, especially my children and their needs. It wasn’t a decision that I made for myself, but it worked out for my good; it’s been a long time since my children have had me 100% to themselves without having to share me with work, their extra curricula activities, etc. For eight months we’ve had dinner together, we’ve created a business together, we’ve spent many days laughing, decorating their rooms in their favorite colors and most importantly we’ve made time to have Morning Prayer like we used to. During my time off God had to remind me that what was meant for my bad has opened up so many doors for me. He showed me that nothing happens apart from His will and that it’s possible to have peace when the devil wanted me to have turmoil. My friend in D.C. reminded me that eight (8) is the number of new beginnings, so it is only fitting that God would close a door that I had just put my hand on so that He could give me my new beginning; He didn’t want me to lose focus of His plan for me (Jer. 29:11).

With a smile on my face I think of my friend, the jazzy medical student that sent me the email with the song attached. I hope she knows that I miss her too and think of her every time I wear the earrings that she gave me. Little did we know that we would eventually have a lot in common – God put us on pause to show us a few things about ourselves. As the messenger she had no clue how the very person that she sent me the message through would also be the person that blessed me earlier with an email that would change my life & my direction. She had no clue that while I was listening to the song that she sent to encourage and uplift me that I would receive a phone call with a job offer even before the song ended. Nothing but God…Whatever God has revealed to her about her future I know she’s going to take it by storm; being cute and jazzy along the way. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, since I’ve had a chance to pick with her as only I know how to do, but God placed me on her mind and through her He spoke a message that He knew I needed to hear. To my jazzy friend & to the person she sent the email through ~ God has a plan for our lives and no one can take our place. Many thanks and much love to you both! See ya at the top! TGBTG

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TEACH THEM WELL...

The power of the written word…My daughter’s homeroom teacher have the words, “Teach them well and let them lead the way” as part of his signature line on his email. Every time I receive an email from him I am reminded of the song, “I believe the children are our future. Teach them well and let them lead the way. Show them all the beauty they possess inside….” These are the lyrics to the song, “The Greatest Love of All” written by Michael Masser & Linda Creed. Seeing those words at the end of his email reminds me of how powerful they can be in the development of a child.

Teach them well…I think I’ve always had this thing about “ministering” to teens using my own uniqueness. Basically I say what you need to know, not what you want to hear. Show them all the beauty they possess inside... There's a young man at my daughter's school that has become my adopted son; I call him “the son I never had.” He’s a nice young man, a fella with untapped potential that even he can’t see. I was drawn to him because I saw past what he sometimes tries to portray as an exterior; you can tell that he has been “raised right” (as the old folks say). Untapped potential…God promised to give his namesake every piece of land that his feet touched; I hope that he realizes that this is his promise too. I predict that one day he’ll show me that he was worth every word of encourgement that I’ve spoken into his spirit. “The son I never had…” Last year he and my youngest shared a common thread of always having to stay at school for Wednesday detention. They were also placed on what is called a "contract" and threatened with being removed and sent to their “home school.” While talking with them about this in his eyes I could see the words of the Apostle Paul, “The things I know I should do, I don’t. The things I know I shouldn’t do, I end up doing.” That evening while talking to my daughter Shay about her “contract” she turned to me and said, with such sincerity, “But mommy I’m not a bad person.” It was then that I turned and gave my child a hug and reassurance that no matter what anyone says she was not “a bad person.” I shared his story, Shay’s struggles, and the contract with my friend living in Virginia, she said to me, “San, these are just kids being kids. They are not fighting, drinking, smoking dope, carrying weapons or cutting class. What do you expect from a child?” What she told me next left not only my mouth but my eyes wide open. As it turns out my friend was the child that most of her teachers thought would not excel; teachers talked about her in her presence assuming that because she was a child she wasn’t smart enough to understand and her peers ridiculed her. Parents didn’t want their children to socialize with her in or out of school – she was labeled the trouble maker. She wasn’t the A student or even the B student that would earn her the praises and the recognition and ultimately she was placed with the group of students that were “just like her.” A lonely place to be so I learned to depend on me… “San,” she continued, “the difference now between me & those A/B students is that most of them had babies before we finished high school and I didn’t. Some of them are alcoholics, drowning from trying to live in the world’s expectations. Quite a few are in bad marriages because they married someone on or above their expectation level and then the rest have been fake for so long that they don’t know who they really are. Me, the person that no one thought would amount to much has retired from the Army as a Lt. Colonel. I have three degrees and have less than a year to complete my Juris Doctorate, I live in one house but own three others, I am happily married to a retired Colonel and we have children whose college educations are collecting interest. I am well blessed and I did so because my mother told me to prove everyone wrong. So San, don’t give up hope for Shay or this young man because the world has no clue what God has in store for them.” “Prove everyone wrong.” Those were the exact words that I said to Shay & “my son” as we discussed “their contract,” Wow! What a confirmation! Thanks, friend…Ich Liebe Dich ~TGBTG

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WHAT'S IN YOUR EAR?

Recently I posted a Thought for Today to my Facebook family. It simply said this, “What would you say to a person that told you Jesus can’t save you and life start when the church ends?” I then asked them if they would give this person their money; I’m sure that most of them said “No,” however they probably unknowingly did if they purchased or downloaded Jay Z’s song, Empire State of Mind.

I must admit that I, too, thought that the song was cute; I mean it even briefly had me wishing that I were from New York because it has become their unofficial anthem. In reality though I have to admit that I’ve never listened to Jay Z’s part of the song because I’m not a fan of his music; usually for me his lyrics doesn’t make sense. But I must admit that until today I was highly impressed with him as a business man…hmm...however one of my favorite movies comes to mind as I write this, “The Devil’s Advocate.” I won’t go into the true message of this movie but I’ll leave you with a slice, “You sharpen the human appetite to the point where it can split atoms with its desire; you build egos the size of cathedrals; fiber-optically connect the world to every eager impulse; grease even the dullest dreams with these dollar-green, gold-plated fantasies, until every human becomes an aspiring emperor, becomes his own God... and where can you go from there?” Suffice it to say it’s speaks to how we are as a people. Ironically this movie was also centered around New York as well.

“Would you give this person your money?” I followed that by saying, “You did if you bought or downloaded this song.” Jay Z’s latest CD sold over a million copies in a week; further lining his pockets. “Jesus can’t save you…” It pains me to think that our children and some adults are being fed from the devil’s hand and we don’t know it or realize it. It pains me that the utensil being used to feed us is something simple as two buds attached to an Ipod or MP3 player and we don’t realize it. Long ago I told someone that this new craze was really the devil’s handiwork because it feeds your spirit. I compared it to an experience that I had with my alarm clock – Short version…back when the song was popular I found myself always singing R. Kelly’s song about Mr. Big. It puzzled me why this song wouldn’t get out of my head. “Low down dirty woman, back to where you come from…” It was weeks before I realized that this song came on the radio at the same time every morning which just happened to be my wake up time; it was the first thing that fed my spirit. “What’s in your ear?” It’s true that what goes in your ears rests in your spirit. I proved that by whispering “Mommy” into Breyona’s ear as a baby; guess what her first words were? “What’s in your ear?” Have you ever left church on a spiritual high singing a song from the service only to go into a store playing secular music? Now I know I’m not the only one that has gone from singing Praise is what I do to It’s a thin line between love and hate without realizing it…Yes the devil is crafty… So let me ask you this ~ Jay Z says, “Jesus can’t save you” and God’s Word says, “If you confess with your mouth and believe in your heart you shall be saved.” Now who will you believe?

“He who knows not & knows that he knows not is a fool; shun him. He who knows not & knows not that he knows not is a child; teach him. He who knows & knows not that he knows is asleep; wake him. He who knows & knows that he knows is wise; follow him.” ~Proverbs TGBTG

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PARTY OVER HERE!

Party over here! My super sweet, precious daughter imagines that her 16th birthday will be like the television show My Super Sweet 16. She has such hopes, dreams and ideas for this big day; ideas that I can’t help but laugh at when she talks about it. “Mommy, I want a limousine to drop me off at the clubhouse and then I want all of my friends to blah, blah, blah.” At this point it all begins to sound like gibberish, especially since I’ve turned on the tune-your-child-out button. Sadly the show My Super Sweet 16 has given a lot of children a crazy idea that all 16th birthdays should be spent with a party that costs thousands of dollars followed by a very expensive automobile. YEAH RIGHT! Unfortunately for Bree this dream was fueled when her dance group was invited to a 16th birthday party at Terrell Owens’s house (pardon me while I suppress my flesh). The party was really great, especially the part where I foamed at the mouth over an ESPN picture of a shirtless T.O. (get behind thee flesh). Let’s see where was I, oh yeah back to the kids. After watching the entertainment, swimming in the pool, eating, dancing and mingling everyone was asked to come around to the front of the house; it was here that a Mercedes Benz with a big bow was parked in the driveway. On the ride home both Bree and Shay talked about their 16th party and what they were expecting, did I say YEAH RIGHT?!

As we drove back to the real world I shared with them that my concept of birthday parties for them have changed dramatically. Am I being mean? No. I made a decision that the Jackson’s will have an annual gathering that will cover everything from birthdays, to graduations, to family BBQs and all; this way we can lump our celebrations into one party. Why? Let me explain. Picture this – if you are the one that’s hosting the party no matter how many people lend a hand, it is the host that ends up too tired to fully enjoy the party, not to mention that the host is also the one that ends up a little light in the pocket. After the party is over it is the host that has to clean up, put the scraps of food away, and end up pissed that insensitive people carried away all of the food without any regards to whether the family would like to eat later. At my last party not only did they haul away all of the food, but when the plates ran out someone found the foil and used up all of that too. Skanks! From now on I’m going to invest in the birthday girl, the husband or myself and give us a present that we will never forget. I will no longer spend my money to entertain someone else for MY birthday – noooo. This year I’m going to teach my family that to celebrate another year of life doesn’t mean exhausting ourselves and our money entertaining others; it means making lasting memories for us…Even if I’m riding on clouds of money between now and the next year and a half before Bree turns 16, I doubt that she will be driving the streets of Atlanta in a Benz or anything in that price range. For me I would rather see the expression on their faces as they stare at the ocean from the balcony on a luxury cruise ship or while sitting on the beach in Hawaii or sitting in a penthouse suite with a few members of the family & close friends. I would rather make memories of them taking a picture with Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower, or some special background in Sydney. I would rather be in Brazil learning something that I didn’t know or teaching them to ski in Aspen. I would rather see my dollar being changed to another currency rather than seeing people carrying plates of food that I’ve paid for out of my house.

Memories…My girls and I will always remember the time we spent in Puerto Rico, a celebration for passing the CRCT. We combined that with my niece graduating from the 8th grade and Bree’s graduation from the 5th grade. “Let’s have a pool party in the clubhouse,” they shouted. “Sure, let me just call to cancel these,” I said as I placed four airline tickets on the table. “What would you rather do?” The screams told me that they would rather be in Puerto Rico. We turned a business trip into a vacation; my best friend joined us and the 5 of us toured Old San Juan, the Bacardi factory, we enjoy the food along the strip of the small town we were living in and had fun trying to order chicken in Spanish at Church’s. Pool party or Puerto Rico? We have pictures & a video of us relaxing in the Jacuzzi, playing in the pool and enjoying the waves in the ocean. I still find the strange looks amusing when Shay says, “that smells like Bacardi.” I stop and wonder if I should explain that we toured the factory and smelled the different flavors of Rum. Will they believe me? It doesn’t matter. I know that a tour of Puerto Rico and the original Rum factory have given them lessons that they will always remember. Ahhh. Life was good and it was money well spent. I can’t wait until our Super Sweet “vacation,” but in the meantime where can mommy go for a little R & R…? TGBTG

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God is in the Small Stuff

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! WOW 2010!! It seems like only yesterday that I wrote my article The Brilliant Mind of Others to ring in 2009. Many of you know that my first article of the New Year is usually a revelation received for which I am always honored to be the vessel. Just looking back at the titles over the years says a lot about what I’ve learned: 2005 Enjoy the Fruits of Your Labor; 2006 ABLIEVR: 2007 Shake It Off; 2008 Life is too Darn Short. Last year God dropped into my spirit an amazing revelation while watching a Katt Williams DVD and from that The Brilliant Mind of Others was birthed. This year something as annoying as a beeping sound in my truck was the basis for the powerful message sent by God.

Long story short – Around the middle of last year I began to notice a beeping sound in my truck. It’s the same sound that is made when I start the ignition but leave the door open or my seat belt unfastened; a warning sound. Every time it came on I would pull over, exit, and go around opening and closing every door. In the beginning doing this worked but after a while it wouldn’t and the beeping continued continuously for about 2 or 3 minutes or until I pressed the reset button 2 or 3 times – annoying. Finally after putting two and two together I discovered that it only happened when it rained; apparently a short in the wiring. As it got closer to the truck being paid in full what started out as a problem only when it rained turned into an all the time problem. The few mechanics that I asked had no idea why it was doing this – a couple suggested a fuse, one agreed that it was possibly the wiring, but no one wanted to touch it. Frustrated and ticked off I was beginning to believe that the old saying is true, “Everything starts happening when it’s almost paid off.”When I couldn’t take it anymore I realized that I had two options – I could pray about it and hope that God hears me in the small stuff or I could take it to Ford and let them charge me an arm, a leg, and two fingers. Knowing how God likes to show off I decided to put Him to the test (hey He said it first...) My prayer was simple; something similar to the Faith Evans' song, "Lord I come to you I ask you to grant my request. The prayer I pray today is different from the rest..."

I don’t know exactly when it happened but in the beginning I thought it was just another fluke. I thought, okay, it’s a dry day and the sun has dried up the moisture that had shorted out the wire. Later that week it stormed; no beep. Another dry day and no beeping sound. This went on and on until I realized that God must have fixed the “small stuff.” I couldn’t believe it but in my heart I could because He’s just that kind of God. This was His way of showing me that what I think is small is just as important to Him. It was this “small stuff” that reminded me that all He asks is that we have faith the size of a mustard seed. So this year, 2010, take your big stuff and imagine that it’s small stuff and then give it to God ~ He’s listening and He’ll take care of it. TGBTG

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THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF CHRISTMAS

Every time I hear one of those good old-fashioned Christmas songs I am reminded of how simple life seemed back in the day. I remember being a child and listening to the songs as I slept on the bed, sofa, or chair while alternating for holiday gatherings between our house and the houses of family and friends. Between the sounds of cards slapping on the table from the Bid Whiz game came the soft echoes from the likes of Donny Hathaway, Otis Redding, The Supremes, Al Green, and more – these were the soothing sounds that made life seem so at ease. I wonder now if it was the peace of being a child or was life so much more simpler for us back then? When I listen to these songs now I am reminded that it seemed like no matter what they may have been going through with Civil Rights, recession, or everything that was thrown at them because of the color of their skin, all of it seemed to fade when you put on a wobbly 45 or album and take that penny or nickel to hold the needle down. Gosh, I wonder if that’s all it would take now – a good old 45 record, an album and a nickel; what have we got to lose - we’ve tried almost everything else. Maybe we just need to play those old songs all day, everyday, in hopes that it would remind us that back in the day even the worst of times melted like butter on a gas stove.

I can’t speak for your family but as for mine I remember when those “tipsy” relatives cried every time they heard The OJays, The Temptations, Otis Redding, or Sam Cooke? Were they crying because of the hand that life dealt or were they crying because they were tipsy, it probably was the latter? Now when I look back on it I remember that it was through them that we found joy; it was those tipsy, crying relatives that gave us a good old-fashioned belly laugh; one that we, as children, would have to sneak and have because back then a child stayed in a child’s place. Yeah, those were the days….I remember everybody jumping up from the card table and doing the “bop”(I think you’d have to be from Atlanta to know what the bop is). The bop – you take the hand of your partner and….well, it’s hard to explain. Men with women, women with women and usually somebody with a child; that’s how I learned to do the bop, I was the extra that always jumped up to dance with my mom. It’s funny but just this week I longed for the good old days of Christmas, one where the holiday was about Jesus and not about which house had the biggest and the best decorations or who spent the most. Christmas then was about parents having fun all night pretending to be Santa Claus and then staying awake to watch the excitement from their children. Christmas then was a time for family & friends; a time when people just dropped by and stayed a while without it being an inconvenience. It was a time when we laughed like crazy when my Aunt Bernice fell into the Christmas tree because she was “tipsy,” or when she would put on her nightgown backwards and the breast cups would be sticking out in the back; yes, when that happened the adults were okay when the children laughed too.

I’m sure you’re probably saying, “What is the message in all of this?” Well for me the message is this - when I look at my children I realize how much they’ve missed; I realize that their abundance has created their lack. I realized that life now has allowed them to grow up too fast and gone are the days when they could sit in the midst of adults but still maintain their childlike innocence. As I think about the good old days the message for me is a reminder that sometimes we have to go back before we can move forward. I sometimes find it rather soothing to use my imagination and pull out an old 45 that has been compressed into a CD and think back to the days when I was curled up on a chair or bed while the sounds of Donny Hathaway drifted into my sleep. 35+ years later when everything around me seems chaotic I have to remember that even in the stress of today's journey sometimes all I need to do is take a walk down memory lane back to a time when all it took for them was a song.TGBTG

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They're My Color but They're Not My Kind

I love my people, I honestly do. If I had a choice of the race that I wanted to be born in, it wouldn’t change. I love the diversity that we have in our complexions, hair, styles, swag, etc. I love me; who I am, who my family is and who they were. I love being blessed with strong women that not only taught me but showed me how to love myself. My people…My uncle used to have a saying that it took me years to understand. He would often say, “They’re my color, but they’re not my kind.” I would later learn firsthand what those words meant.

“They’re my color, but they’re not my kind.” I wish that I would have done research on this for my final college paper in hopes of understanding why we change. Did it start in the Motherland between the tribes? Did it start on the plantation between the house slaves and the field slaves? Did the house slaves treat the field slaves with inferiority? I don’t know when it started but I do know that personal experience has changed the way I feel about some things. I remember when I started working for a minority organization; I was so excited to finally be around my people because I’d always worked in corporate America. I remember telling one of my Caucasian sisters that I was sooo excited about finally working with “my people.” It wasn’t long before the light grew dim and I found a saying of my own, “In Corporate America I knew that I was Black, but here I feel like I’m Black.” Even though my department was predominately Black my supervisor for seven years was not, so life for me was pretty much what I was accustomed to, but the organization as a whole was definitely a culture shock. Unfortunately things changed and it was then that I began to understand exactly what my uncle was trying to teach me. I also learn that an old saying of mine was true as well – “Even a dog will smile at you before he attacks.” OK I'll wait until you catch up...Time's up - think about it...when a dog growls at you he's showing his teeth so what looks like a smile is really a set-up. Yes, it wasn’t long before I told myself that Corporate America really wasn’t so bad after all. House slaves vs Field slaves; why have we taken on this attitude of superiority and inferiority? Why have we made ourselves out to be better than our “brutha?” Why have we allowed a title, degree or status to define who we are or who we will become? Why have we allowed a position to be the shoes that we use to step on and over those that we used to work with as friends or thought we could respect as bosses? Recently I was sharing with my cousin that I’m being more selective of whom I would like to work for and with from now on. Unfortunately she understood because a few years ago she changed positions and found herself one of only two sistahs in the department; guess who gave her the most trouble? Confirmation - someone recently made a general statement - "My people of color. Why do you make our jobs so hard?" “They’re my color, but…” While out shopping on Black Friday I overheard a “supervisor” speak to her team in such a degrading tone that I said to myself surely she’s joking with them; her facial expression told me that she was not. “They’re not my kind.” Even at church I’ve chosen to sit up top with the crew that I work with even on the Sunday’s when I’m not working. The anointing is different up top and I don’t have to worry with those that are at church every Sunday shouting hallelujahs when the pastor is preaching & watching but turning their heads when church is over to avoid speaking.

I’m sure there’s a lesson in this for me because God allowed me to associate this with something He showed me years ago. Ironically this revelation came during The Lion King era when I worked in Corporate America. In Simba’s Pride, Kiara, Simba’s daughter, told him during the fight between the have & the have not’s that they should stop fighting because “we are one.” What Kiara was saying is the same thing that God has told us all along in Gen. 2:7 “God formed the man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life and the man became a living being.” You see the dust had no particular color – it had no race, culture or social status, degree or position. It was just plain dust from the ground and with dust you can’t tell one particle from another. We are still dust, no matter what we have achieved. We are one…(Rom. 14:1) “Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. One man’s faith allows him to eat everything, but another man, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables. The man who eats everything must not look down on him who does not and the man who does not eat everything must not condemn the man who does for God has accepted him.” WOW!! GOD has ACCEPTED him. Now when will we? TGBTG

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FROM Wii to WE

Many of you have heard of all the drama that I recently went through trying to find a simple pack of old-fashioned marbles for a Science project that my daughter Bree had to do. The project was to create a roller coaster with a loop and a hill and then make sure that the marble traveled through the entire coaster, loop, hill and all. After getting the materials I searched high and low, from store to store looking for the marbles that I used to play with when I was a little girl. Family Dollar – nope, Dollar Tree – nope, Walmart – nope, another Family Dollar, another Dollar Tree, CVS and Walgreen – I came up with a nope on all accounts. A simple pack of marbles. Everyone wanted to tell me that the “craft marbles” would serve the purpose, and yes, maybe they would but that’s not what I wanted. I wanted the colored marbles that came with a chunky and a cat eye. Had I become so obsessed with finding these marbles – maybe, but the revelation received will far surpass the obsession. I continued my search and ended up finding a pack at a store in the “hood” – thank God for the hood – that’s where you have to keep it real! Please don’t mistake the hood for the ghetto; there is a difference. The hood is where you don’t rush to remove life for “something better.” It’s where you go when you want to remember from where we came. The hood is where our people were able to be themselves. It’s where we can sit on the porch sipping sweet tea or something stronger, play spades, listen to “real” music and wave when friends or strangers passed by.

This experience of not being able to find the marbles that I used to play with taught me a valuable lesson; it taught me that we have become so far removed from things that were simple. We've been so busy "moving on up" like George Jefferson that we've forgotten to take with us the simple things in life. Gone are the days of playing marbles, jacks, hop scotch and jump rope. These were inexpensive games that required concentration; games that became the backbone of many life lessons learned. Marbles were like shoes, every child had their own. When you came with a challenge you’d better be ready to lose your stash. I remember I had a plastic tub full of marbles and for me to lose meant either you had to be good or I was having a bad day. The game taught you how to focus on your mark and it also taught you how to have a steady hand; hmmm what a wonderful, simple way for the makings of a good surgeon yet it was also an example of life because it taught you that there is a risk because your opponent is there to take everything. As for jacks – jacks taught us concentration, hand-eye coordination and how to count. It was a basic game of throwing a small ball in the air and picking up jacks from one to whatever number you were on and then catching the ball after one bounce. Later you added in creativity – throw the ball in the air, pick up the jacks, tap, and then catch the ball after one bounce. Gosh I was good at that game too. The value of jacks is to teach us that you have to keep your eye on the ball and that even though you sometimes find yourself juggling it doesn’t mean that your dreams can’t be caught. Hop scotch. I sometimes still see the markings of this game from time to time; it’s good to know that kids are still enjoying it and that it’s still around. The greatest lesson taught in this game was to focus on throwing the rock or object into a square, jump to it and pick it up all while balancing on one leg – this game taught children how to balance and how to stay within the square. Maybe if we spent more time playing this game we would be able to teach them the concepts needed to balance the many things they would go through in life. And finally there’s jump rope – really there’s no need to explain the value of jump rope; what child doesn’t need the exercise that comes with increasing your heart rate. Jump rope also brought out our creative side through twist jumping and double dutch. In jump rope we learn how to jump through the hoops thrown at us in this fast paced life that we’ve created for ourselves.

Simple games…valuable lessons…What I learned this week was that all of these games held great lessons that I believe contributed to what have helped elevate the intelligence of my generation. It was also this eye-opener that made me realize how important it is to take a step back into time and show my children what simple fun is like. This may be just what Shay needs to teach her how to focus in school and it may be what Bree needs to help her understand that the simple things in life are sometimes the most enjoyable. What I learned by searching from store to store is a lesson that we all need to learn; the lesson of spending time with each other. Wii is fun, but WE is better. It is WE that brings out the bond in a family; that’s my lesson. TGBTG

~Stay Prayed Up!! CLICK ON THE LINK

A SOLDIER'S STORY

13 dead 30 wounded. He was a psychiatrist but his mind was troubled. He was a Major but he was unable to lead. Many would have you believe that his religion was the reason, maybe, but maybe not. It takes a lot to be a soldier; it takes almost as much to be a soldier’s wife. No one knows the life we both have lived unless you've been there, done that. Do I regret it? – No. If given the chance would I go back tomorrow? – No.

“Boo, my unit is being deployed to Kuwait in 2 weeks.” I’d seen it happen to others but when I heard it in my own house then it became real. I heard a scream but I thought it was in my head until my neighbors ran through the door – I was crying, hyperventilating and pleading with God. We were in Germany and I’d just lost my mother 10 months earlier ~ life seemed so unfair. I found myself in the same daze that I was in when I came home to bury my mother; things were cloudy. I felt like I was losing my mind. I was forced to stay or risk losing housing if I came home. Stressed, depressed. That was my story…

He came over for dinner; a friend we’d met at Fort Bragg, N.C. In the Army you’re family and we look after our own. We met because we all lived in the same apartment complex and like family we found each other when we got overseas. They lived about two hours away but when you’re overseas that’s like being as close as Atlanta to College Park – we would pack a bag and spend the weekend; they would do the same. When they found out he was being deployed they had to send their 3 kids home to Alabama because she worked nights. Daily she cried for two reasons; her husband was going to war and she had to send her children home. They flew alone – they paid the cost – the military will only pay if you have orders. That was Malone’s story…

It played out like a scene from Army Wives. She was the wife of a Navy Seal with a young son about 5. She seemed a little ditzy to me; not the normal type of friend I would be drawn to. I often wondered why her husband could go to work in civvies and why he had a beard; my husband later explained. I can’t remember how we became close but I do remember sitting in her kitchen most mornings helping her search the newspaper. It became a habit; the least little article may have held a clue of his assignment. I realized that the ditzy was really her early afternoon bottles of wine; red eyes not from the wine but from crying every time her son asked why didn’t daddy say goodbye or tell him that he wasn’t coming home. He never told her goodbye. She would sit by the door waiting, sometimes he came, most times he didn't. Like Pam from Army Wives she left too. That was Karyn’s story…

It was her first child. A soldier married to a soldier. He was our homeboy and I was supposedly the only person that he ever saw his wife comfortable around; I made her laugh. She was pregnant when we met; they were having a little girl. Later he found out that he was being deployed even though he was soon to be a father, they prayed that he wouldn’t be sent before his child was born; he wasn’t, his orders said that he would leave 5 days after she was born. She was a new mom, prepared to watch her daughter crawl without her husband; 3 weeks after giving birth her orders said that she would leave after her 6 week check-up; they gave her 3 days to take her newborn to her mom. That was Lawson’s story…

He’d only been home a month. As they strolled through the PX a male soldier spoke, she spoke back thinking nothing of it. On the ride home he questioned her about the guy; she wasn’t sure what he was talking about. By the time they arrived home the conversation had turned into an argument, the argument turned into a fight. With hands clasped around her neck he forced her to the balcony threatening to throw her over onto the ground 15 feet below. PTSD was not an option back then; he was sentenced to 10 years. That was Eduardo's story…

Why am I saying this, well it’s by no means justification for the actions of the Major at Fort Hood nor am I making an excuse for him. When I think about him I don’t see the Muslim terrorist that he’s being labeled; I see a stressed individual that took the coward’s way out to prevent being deployed. I can’t tell you what he must have been thinking, but I can tell you what might have been going through his head the day before. Stress, Depression, Fear… Yes, life in the Army can deal you a hand that some days you can handle and some days you can’t. It can send you off to war in your right mind but bring you back depressed. It can send you off an innocent person but bring you back with blood on your hands. It can send you off trusting of others but bring you back looking over your shoulder. It can send you off with laughter in your heart but bring you back with tears in your eyes. In our minds once a soldier, always a soldier…to us the real meaning of the U.S. Army is (Uncle Same Ain’t Released Me Yet) ~Fort Hood, TX 2001-2003(Retired) TGBTG

I am a Soldier. Serving Proudly, Standing Tall.
I fight for freedom, by answering this call.
I do my job knowing the thanks it sometimes lacks.
Say a prayer that I'll come home.
It's me who has your back.
Author Unknown

~Stay Prayed Up!! Click on the Link

MASKS

There is an old saying that “one thing leads to another,” and it’s true. Its funny how as time goes by something you’ve seen or done over here seems to coincide with something you’ve seen or done over there. For me it has become evident that all things work together.

Scene I – Fort Bragg, North Carolina. I purchased a small plaque that cost me about $1.00, it was a plain and simple plaque but the words written on it spoke to me as Braille speaks to the blind. I never realized how much of an impact or revelation this simple plaque would make. But, all things work together.

Scene II – Schweinfurt, Germany, several years later. Heading back to work from lunch I saw a beautiful porcelain mask that I could not take my eyes off of. It was captivating, the color and the markings were searing. Something was clearly speaking to me through this mask that I was yet to hear, but I knew in my heart that it would eventually be mine. Approximately 5:10 p.m. I was standing at the vendor’s stand purchasing that mask and a few more.

Fast forward – After I hung my faces on the wall I stepped back to admire my collection; they were exquisite! Somehow they seemed to come to life right there on my wall - it was then that I realized my porcelain faces were telling me how easy it is to hide behind a mask, especially in the military because no one knows from whence you came.

All things work together. It was becoming obvious that my plaque and masks were trying to teach me not to lose sight of who I really am, not to become so fixated on what I could pretend to be, but rather to rest in who I was made to be. Bottom line - it takes more work, and money, to be fake than it does to be “real.” A few years later I received my confirmation when a still small voice said to me, “If you impress Me, I’ll make sure you’re impressed with yourself, and then everyone around you that matters will be impressed.” TGBTG

The Plaque – "The Face in the Glass"

When fortune smiles and you’re winning life’s race
And fate stores your blues on a shelf,
Seek your reflection and examine the face
That shows the real truths of your self.

For it isn’t family or all the rest
Whose judgment you truly must pass,
The one whose verdict counts most is best
Is the face staring back from the glass.

You may fool the world everyday for years,
Drawing glory and praise by the mass,
But your final reward will be measured in tears
If you’ve cheated the face in the glass.

Author
Wendy Lyn

~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK

TO YOU, AUNT JACKIE

It was a family secret, not intentionally but we never talked about it. I now know where I get it from, maybe its old school; maybe its generational; whatever it is I now have it too. I sometimes believe that if I don’t talk about it then it’s not real; that it’s really not happening. I don’t think that they really meant to keep it a secret; maybe they grieved enough when they found out, maybe they didn’t want to travel down that road again, I don’t know, I wasn’t here. Being married to a man in the military kept me out of the loop on a lot because I was away from home. Maybe they forgot to tell me; maybe they didn’t want me to worry while I was thousands of miles away in Germany. Maybe…Why didn’t I ask? Maybe I didn’t want to know…All I knew was that she was sick. When I moved back home I talked to her on the phone every other week, our conversations were powerful; anytime you talk about how good God is then it can’t help but be powerful. We had a family dinner, I think all but three or four of her nieces and nephews came – we were all home either permanently or visiting. It rained so hard, I guess the devil was trying to keep us from coming together but we made it anyway. It was a Soul Food movie moment except we had fun in the places where they had drama. My Aunt Jackie cooked most of the food – I heard that she insisted. She didn’t look sick at all – wow it can’t be that bad, I thought to myself.

The Aunt Jackie that I saw that night was her strong, fun loving self. Her smile was still beautiful; infectious. Everyone was tip toeing around her; she was walking tall around us. It was standing on her strength that made that rainy, dreary night seem like a sunny day. While there I went back to the “pink room,” this was the bedroom that I wished for when I was a little girl. I used to want to spend the night just so I could sleep in the pink room. Even during grown folks gatherings my cousin and I would slip away to the pink room when we were little girls – there was peace and solace in the pink room. Someone later told me that my aunt’s bad days and nights were spent in the pink room; we never saw these bad days and nights, she put up a good front. I think I'd been home a couple of years before I realized that my aunt had breast cancer and had been living with it for many years but was in remission while I was away; I never knew. When I think about all of the people that I have known that are living with breast cancer I am reminded of their strength. It was this year that God showed me that what appears to be strength to others is sometimes a façade; a very good front for their family and friends. As I travel down this road with one of my friends I must admit that even though she is doing great I sometimes find that it’s me that’s not strong enough. I try so hard but the “family rule” keeps surfacing and I can’t help but think that if we don’t talk about it… It never fails but no matter how much I try not to show it I usually end up leaning on her. Recently she showed me a sign of weakness and though I wasn’t ready for it I had to find the strength because I owed it to her. As she poured out her soul to me my heart was breaking because I couldn’t give her a hug; we were on the phone. Maybe a hug wouldn’t help, I don’t know…but I felt in my heart that I had to strengthen my friend and for a moment my mind went blank. How can I be strong for her? “Just pray,” came the still small voice. When you don’t know what to say, just pray…It was prayer that gave us both the strength that we needed in that moment.

Shhh… maybe if we don’t say anything it may go away. Yes, that’s my own personal curse with dealing with things that I hope I can learn to get past. I probably would have left this earth with that mentality until I recently had the privilege of seeing Dr. Jamal Harrison Bryant in person. He said that “there are some things that we have to claim.” We have been taught not to claim things and yes, if it’s not a sure thing then don’t claim it but there are some things that must be claimed, because if you don’t claim it, then God can’t heal it. I love you, Aunt Jackie. I’ll be looking for you in the pink room. TGBTG

~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK

DROP 3 SIZES....

If I may borrow from one of my favorite comedians, Bernie Mack, “Okay America we’re all family, right?” If you remember I told you last week about my quest for “good hair,” well I decided this week to move on down the anatomy by trying this new craze called the Body Magic. I’m sure you’ve heard or have seen it and if you haven’t just check the link on my blog. It says I can “drop 3 sizes in 10 minutes.” I know…I know…I said the same thing too – Yeah right! But I had to give it a shot because it fell in line with my “alter ego.” I mean if you’re going to transform yourself you just can’t stop in one spot. You know what the Word says, “be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind” and the mind controls a whole lot of things so stopping in one spot is not a transformation. Now on to the story – when my Body Magic arrived I couldn’t wait to put it on especially since I’d seen the transformation on live models at least 5+ times by the time my box arrived. “Drop 3 sizes in 10 minutes…” did you catch the 10 minutes part? Normally 10 minutes is a short span of time if you are rushing because you need to be somewhere in 10 minutes. It’s a short span of time if I’m upstairs and need to remember to run down and pull the cornbread out of the oven in 10 minutes. In these two instances 10 minutes seems like 3 minutes but along comes the Body Magic. After researching this on Youtube and seeing this chick twice my size wiggle into the garment I felt like it would be a piece of cake. 10 minutes plus and six (6) hands later I FINALLY got this darn thing on; we pulled and pushed and squirmed and wiggled, I sweated, breathed hard and almost passed out from holding my breath. At one point I wanted to call the Fire Dept to bring in the Jaws of Life. After about 7 minutes I thought about taking it back off to see if I had the right size but the more I thought about it the more I envisioned that it would probably be easier to push a baby back into the womb than it would be to do this all over again. 10 minutes – whatever happened to 10 minutes seeming like 3 when you need it? Tug….pull…“grab it here Breyona. Shay you hold it while we pull.” Tug…pull…hop…wiggle. Who in the world thought about putting all of these little hooks on here? It must have been a man. “Can a sister get one with a zipper,” I wanted to scream but I couldn’t because I was too busy sucking it in. Is this part of my transformation really worth it? My mind was running to and fro – should I, should I not…but I continued because I was inspired by remembering how I’d seen for myself how this thing really changed the shape of others. PULL! I had a flashback of NeNe on the Real Housewives of Atlanta saying that she was a size 10. Snap, one hook…PULL! Snap, a couple more….I think I can, I think I can…My mind was on if NeNe is a size 10 then I gots (ebonics) to get this baby hooked all the way. If Mo Nique can pull off flat abs and no rolls….If this thing can raise breasts like Jesus raised Lazarus then I have to PULL!!

When all was said and done I was missing about 3 fingernails but it was well worth it. I felt like star on the red carpet as I put on my favorite winter sweater that had been folded in the drawer for almost 3 years. Looking at my before (yuck) and after picture in my sweater I became light headed; OMGosh, did I look like this? The last time I tried to wear this sweater I looked a hot mess not to mention it was like putting on the Body Magic in reverse; it was caught between my waist and shoulders and it probably took me 15 minutes to take it off. Whew…Anyway…like I was saying I literally lost 3 dress sizes in, less say, 12 ½ minutes. I couldn’t take my eyes off of me – I had a Betty Rubble figure, cleavage and my bottom was like Beyonce’s – speaking of Beyonce word on the street is that she wears this garment too. I couldn’t help spinning from the front to the back shocked that there were not visible lines not to mention rolls in my clothes. IT WORKED!!! This was certainly not my grandma’s girdle of yester year; this thing was like a second skin and after the first day it was soooo comfortable but the main thing was I was CUTE! I was nipped and tucked before my very own eyes and if the saying is true and I continue to wear this 4-6 hours a day it will reshape my body – now that’s a transformation! I’m sure you’re wondering if I am being gullible. Well believe me when I say (like I said on the last blog – you just can’t tell me anything). Plus I’ve seen it for myself with my own two eyes with another one of the distributors; she and I go back a little ways and I remember what she used to look like. I saw her walk into a room and I gasped. …if someone said to me that they saw her and she looked like this I would not have believed them or I would have assumed it was from having bypass surgery. Skeptics, yes, I’ve heard some skepticism from people but I am my own witness. According to my truck’s license plate I am ABLIEVR when God has shown me something for myself. I’ve seen, for myself, the impact that the nutritional items and the garments have made. I have friends that swear by the Levive and the Cran Aloe; these are mothers that give their children a dose of this every morning; they have nothing but great reports. I’ve also heard the story of the grandmother that used to have problems in her legs and was taking it because her daughter brought her a bottle to see if it would help; all she knew was that her pain was gone. These are the stories that I believe; stories from real people that I know personally. This is why I took 12 ½ minutes to put on my garment because I am ABLIEVR. Now can someone please go get my good hair? I can’t pull myself away from the mirror. Psst…and if someone can please call a preacher I can use some prayer to get this thing off… TGBTG

~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK

Bringing Sexy Back...Interested?? www.ardysslife.com/phat2fine

TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE...

As I was driving home from church last Sunday I was so excited about the idea of creating a new me. Every thread of my being was centered on my future; on the journey yet to come. I was marinating in the residue of the message knowing that what’s to come is greater than what has been…you see the Word says, “And we know that all things work together for good.” Whew…the anointing that’s dropping from this message is so fresh that I can still feel it in my bones so stay tuned there’s more to come from this message at a later time.

Prior to writing this I’d been joking about getting me some “good hair.” It’s not that I don’t already have “good hair,” I’ve been blessed in this area all of my life but I wanted a change – something different. I wanted a style that I was not obligated to keep. You know how it is with fads, some folks want tattoos I wanted hair even though I have enough of my own, so along came my alter ego – she’s the one that doesn’t like to sit in the salon all day and night yet she likes to be Oprah ready at a moment’s notice. Oprah ready? Well for me Oprah ready is looking a certain way when I answer the door should Oprah ever ring my door bell…Oprah ready…Now on to the beauty supply to gets (ebonics) me some good hair…As I write this I have to laugh because to me it’s so funny how other people think they can tell you what looks best on you – I know that for them they are making a sale but thank God I’m not easily swayed on the judgments of others. “Yea dat looks agood on you.” Is she looking at the same mirror that I’m looking at? “Let me see that one,” I said. It was a cute layered look; a cut that I wanted for my own hair but was too afraid that it would mess up my pony tail days. Sitting there looking like Miss Piggy she says to me again, “Yeah dat looks agood on you too.” We did this a couple more times and by now I realized that she didn’t know me, she didn’t know my style, and she didn’t know my alter ego. At this point I began the search myself – this, no, that, no until finally I saw it. All at once she came to life on my head – HOW U DEW-N? I was indeed Oprah ready from the neck up. “Let me get you another one from under the counter,” she said. “Nope, I want this one and I want a discount.”

Why am I telling you this? Well it crossed my mind as me and my good hair (ebonics) was on our way home that no one knows me like I know myself. I know what makes me look like a fool, I know what I can make look good even though it’s ugly and I know when someone is telling me something that’s just not right for me. At the end of the day I know me and the only other person that knows me better than I know myself is God. So for each new day that we are given remember that you know what’s best for you and if it settles in your spirit, then it’s great for your soul. No matter what anyone else may say – to thine own self be true! TGBTG

~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK

A REVERENCE FOR GOD

I have been replaying this thought in my head for days now…It is a message from God reminding me that somewhere, somehow I’ve misplaced the reverence for Him that I once had. I must admit that I can’t remember when it faded away. Could it have been when I changed churches or when I began wearing pants to church more than I wore dresses? Could it have been when I spent more time looking in the mirror for work than I did before leaving the house for church? I mean I still believed that I loved the Lord, I still trusted Him, I still prayed but I let something get in the way. It was this revelation that made me realize that I didn’t give Him the utmost respect that He is due or that He deserves. Where had it gone? When did it go? This change was gradual, one that I didn’t really notice until recently. It was a change that, once it was discovered I didn’t like the way I felt or the way I treated the Father who’d been so faithful and honest to me. Can I blame society? You know we have become a people of Jack-in-the Boxes that pop up only when tragedy or devastations strike. It’s only when towers crash to the ground, hurricanes destroy an entire city, homes are flooded or near foreclosure, marriages are broken and jobs are lost? We pop out when someone is gravely ill or when our child is strung out on drugs, it is then that we spend every available minute calling on Him to “fix it” and as soon as He does we’re back to our old selves. Can I blame my new church because they do things differently than my old church? Can I blame myself for spending more time on my feet than on my knees? Did I lose it because things have gotten so nonchalant in life and on television? Had I begun agreeing with everything and not questioning anything? Freedom of this; freedom of that… Did I put my reverence on a shelf then and forget about it?

During the ages of 18 thru 22 I lived with my grandmother. I was grown so I came and went as most grown “kids” think they can do. My Saturdays usually extended over into Sunday so for me Sundays were considered as MY day. However my grandmother, a devout Christian that I often saw reading her Bible daily and praying on her knees constantly, had several Sunday rules that no one dared to cross – one was no washing clothes on Sunday. This was God’s day…In her house if they hadn’t been washed Monday thru Saturday then they wouldn’t be washed on Sunday either. This was a small thing but for her it was her reverence. For my grandmother there were certain things that just had to be, no question, simply because of her respect for God.

Where oh where have my reverence gone…oh where oh where can it be? The Lord’s still here but my reverence is gone – and nobody’s moved it but me…Sunday, my day of worship, it shouldn’t be like my Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday. Sundays should be SPECIAL. The day that I worship should be the day when I release all of the hell that I’ve endured all week into the Hands of the Father and then allow Him to replenish my soul. It should be the day when, like back in the days of my grandmother, I should come in with a calmer spirit thankful for God’s grace and mercy; a day of peace and a day of rest. It is the day that should be set apart from the normal days of running to and fro, set apart from sending and answering emails on the BlackBerry, set apart from having a glass of wine or a cocktail or two with friends, a day set apart from allowing something or someone to make you angry enough to do as Peter and say a bad word or two. Yes everyday must be a day of reverence, but Sundays must be different; it must be a true day of REVERENCE. It must be a day to give back to God the respect that He so lovingly has given to me. Hmm…God deserves my respect, that’s the least I can do - so now that I know better, I must do better… TGBTG

~Stay Prayed Up! CLICK ON THE LINK

I'M GOING THROUGH CHANGES

“I’m going through changes.” Yeah I knew this title would catch your eye because when I heard it out loud my ears perked up too. It’s naturally assumed that when you hear a person say that they “are going through changes” it is believed that they are having some “difficult” times – I thought that too but God in His infinite wisdom keeps imparting revelation into my spirit. No matter how confused I allow myself to become He reminds me that His change is ALWAYS good. For the few hours recently that I walked around perplexed God sent me word through my friend Catrell to let me know that He was in charge, that He was still in control and that nothing happens apart from His will. When I was thrust from my comfort zone He didn’t leave me in the blind for long He sent me a message to let me know that when everything changes, change everything. WOW! I hope you caught that - When everything changes, change everything. God said, “I’m going to take you through changes.” What He didn’t say was these changes would be like the streets and highways of Atlanta, they would have a few pot holes, some traffic congestion and things in the road that I’ve had to swerve around but by His Grace it’s been nothing major; what it has been is a pleasant awakening. Along this road I had to remember that God has given me something completely different, something that I’ve never had to deal with before. I must admit that it took pulling back the layers to reveal that God has only given me that which I asked for – change…(that’s why you have to be certain about the things you ask God for). We all like to ask God for things but we must remember to brace ourselves because when He does what we ask we sometimes can’t recognize it at that time. “God, change my situation…” He does but the road is bumpier than we expected, however, if we keep our trust in Him before we know it the road will have smoothed out – that’s blind faith….Yes, I’m going through changes, but the changes are good! When I thought I was lost in my journey God said, “When everything changes, change everything.” When I realized I’d been betrayed God said, “When everything changes, change everything.” When I thought that the change where I worked would bring us a positive change, God said, “When everything changes, change everything.” That simple sentence is words to live by.

A few weeks ago I had the pleasure of meeting the person that would walk in the shoes that I’d walked in for eight (8) years. During our conversation some things were revealed but I told her not to fret because I had a peace knowing that my season was over and that her season was about to begin. When everything changes, change everything…My friend Rosalyn that has known me since back in the days of size 7 has told me twice that I “looked good”– that’s God’s peace; the same peace that I’ve had since I learned that the devil was going to and fro seeking whom he could destroy. Unlike man God knew that I would be going through changes, that why He gave me a few visions, gifts and talents a long time ago. All of this was His plan…God has something in mind for my future, for my development. He is getting ready to make me great! He said that I once was a servant, but now I’m about to be served. Yes, I’m going through changes but they are good changes. God had to make me lose something in order to make me look for something. So the next time you feel like you’ve lost something just trust that the changes that you’re going through are there to make you look for what God really has in store…and never forget ~ When everything changes, change everything. TGBTG

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Choosing God's Plans ~ An On Time God

I have no idea why I am still amazed by the timing of my Father's message. I know how He operates with me in that if I've felt something in my spirit that is from Him He will always send me confirmation. Yesterday I posted on Facebook that I am sooo loving this undivided attention that I've been able to give my family, especially my children. I never knew the feeling & the enjoyment of what I'd taken for granted. And though this time with my children may not last forever, the bond that has been created will... Thank You God, You are a bad Man. Today's FFTS is being borrowed from the devotional that I received today. When I saw my favorite scripture I knew that it is God's confirmation to me...He is an on time God ~ THAT'S WHY I LUV HIM LIKE I DO! Enjoy....

Choosing God's Plans
11 Aug 2009 ~ Tracie Miles

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)

Several years ago, I was sitting in a management meeting, when my manager suggested we kick off the meeting by allowing each person the opportunity to say what they felt was their most important contribution to the company.

One by one, each person spoke, stating things like "to decrease overall expenses," "to lower headcount," etc. When my turn came, my heart fluttered, and I felt compelled to share that I felt my primary purpose was to counsel employees, encourage them, and help them work through personal or work related issues. You could have heard a pin drop in that room, as everyone stared at me with blank faces.

You see, the months leading up to this meeting, there had been a lot of issues going on in the company. There were office politics, power struggles, lofty egos, and people had been hurt.

As a result of my position, people would often come to me for guidance. God had been leading unexpected people into my office for weeks and opened the door for me to minister to believers and non-believers with the love of Christ. He'd also given me the desire and courage to be a light for Him, in an environment that didn't operate under Christian principles. He had ordained opportunities for me to share how Jesus gives true peace and acceptance, even when people and politics cause pain and disappointment.

My supervisor was not a believer, so he didn't appreciate my answer to his question. He wanted to hear how I was going to streamline procedures and improve his department, not what was on my heart, and as a result, our relationship went downhill from there.

A year or so later, I resigned from that position. The atmosphere had simply become too difficult, but more importantly, I knew God had been nudging me to make a change. I felt called to serve in ministry and to be a stay at home mom. All that time, I had been walking in disobedience.

When I resigned, it felt like a sacrifice. However, I quickly discovered that God's plan was so much better than mine. I realized that I had been unable to understand His plan, until I was willing to lay aside my own, and that I had to choose Him, before He could show me His will for my life. Had I simply said what I knew my boss wanted to hear in that meeting, I might still be working there, climbing the corporate ladder, and striving to reach my career goals.

But God had been working on my heart for years, preparing me for that moment. He had gradually shifted my desires to building His kingdom, more so than building my resume. He had inspired me to see the hearts of the people in my office, not just the problems in the people. And He had helped me to see that lasting success and happiness could be found in Him alone, not through my own accomplishments.

Was making that change easy? Or course not. Did I have to make difficult sacrifices? Most definitely. But was it worth it? ABSOLUTELY!

Regardless of where you work, you can make a spiritual difference in people's lives. Whether you work in corporate offices or a Christian ministry, when facing a difficult choice, you can trust that God has prepared and equipped you for such a time as this. Pray for strength to stand up for God's truth, even against all odds, and ask Him to lead you in your decisions.

Choosing Christ's plans, over our own plans, will always result in more peace or blessing than we could never imagine.

Dear Lord, it is not always easy to stand up for You in the face of opposition, or to make choices that seem outside of our understanding. I seek Your guidance, and Your divine wisdom and discernment regarding the decisions in my life. I do desire to do Your will. Thank You for never leaving me. Please help me to be strong in You, and for You. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

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Do You Remember?

Although it’s been over a month it seems like our beloved Michael Jackson is still on the minds of America and the world. Not a day goes by that something is not mentioned about him, his family, his talent, the dreaded Joe Jackson, etc. It seems like people just can’t get enough and I think it will be a loooong time before they will. It’s sad when you think about it but I believe if all of this “positive” attention had been poured on him when he was alive it probably could have prevented his death – you know it’s true that people just want to feel appreciated; we all do. You know the saying, “Give me my flowers while I am alive” and “People may forget what you’ve said or forget what you’ve done but they will never forget how you’ve made them feel.” Well on to my story…..When I think of the many MJ songs Remember the Time keeps creeping up into my psyche though it’s not one of my favorites; I’m an old school MJ fan from back in the Jackson 5 days, but I can give credit where credit is due. Recently while out and about this song kept popping up in my head. So travel with me down memory lane with this simple question, “Do you remember?”

Do you remember when customer service was really about making sure that the customer was satisfied? Do you remember when television had only a few channels and families watched wholesome TV shows? Do you remember when football in Buffalo had snow on the football field in the winter? Do you remember when football players played for the “love of the game” and not for the mega millions? Do you remember when a person gladly came out to “fill ‘er up” at a gas station and cleaned your windows while you waited? Do you remember when you could give your name, address and phone number and not worry about identity theft? Do you remember when people had heart and it really bothered them to do a person wrong? Do you remember when a child stayed in a child’s place and all it took was a look? Do you remember when children respected ALL adults? Do you remember when good old-fashioned soap and water did the trick? Do you remember when you could prick your finger and become blood relatives without the fear of HIV? Do you remember when sex was safe, or so we thought? Do you remember when a man opened the door for a woman because that’s how he was raised? Do you remember chicken and dumplings? Do you remember when going to the country, from Atlanta to Powder Springs took almost 2 hours? Do you remember when a man’s word was his bond? Do you remember that the homeless were just a few hobos living on the railroad tracks? Do you remember when songs were about how much I love you and not about what I want to do to you? Do you remember when we took care of our own and let grandmama, granddaddy, or our great grandparents stay with us because we could take care of them better than any nursing home? Do you remember when all stores were closed by 10:00 p.m.? Do you remember when church was CHURCH? Do you remember when you could shake your pastor’s hand EVERY Sunday? Do you remember when men were men and women were women? Do you remember when men looked like men and women looked like women? Do you remember when the teacher had permission to spank you? Do you remember when slips were worn with skirts and dresses? Do you remember when the whole family went to the drive-in movie? Do you remember when teeth were white simply because you brushed them? Do you remember when it was okay to drink & drive (or so it seemed)? Do you remember when it took a baby almost 6 months to roll over? Do you remember when cars were tuned up and spark plugs were replaced? Do you remember when computers were a “yeah, right” thing of the future? Do you remember when a fight only involved feet, hands and every now and then teeth? Do you remember when you could give a person a ride without fear of losing your life or your car? Do you remember when everybody had a 22 or 38 hid in the car or the house? Do you remember when a child knew NOT to mess with mama or daddy’s 22 or 38? Do you remember when Stevie Wonder’s braids were where his forehead ended? Do you remember when Black men would bend over backwards to please a Black woman? Do you remember when Black men TREATED Black women with respect? Do you remember when a date was JUST dinner and a movie? Do you remember when we truly respected our elderly? Do you remember when you pulled over to the store to use the pay phone? Do you remember when the person you worked for had respect for the person they worked with? Do you remember that all it took was knowing that mama or grandmama ‘don prayed about it? Do you remember…….? TGBTG

P.S."Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring - all of which have the potential to turn a life around" ~Leo Buscaglia

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Job 42:10

If you’ve ever read or tried to read the book of Job you probably stopped somewhere in the middle because it’s a long, confusing and I must admit boring read. For me the summation of this book in the Bible was good enough – God allowed Satan to take everything from Job except his life; Job kept his trust in God and was given double for his trouble – the end. Yesterday my co-pastor preached a message from the book of Job that put that scripture in a whole different light for me. She started with the chapter and verse that gives the plot of the story (Job 1:1-12) and then she went to Job 42:10; it was here that she blew it out of the water. Thrice she said “prayed for his friends.” As I was leaning towards reminding myself that I needed to pray more for my friends it hit me who the “friends” were that Job had to pray for. These “friends” came to Job with ill advice – you know the kind – they are the “if it were me” kind of friends. We all have them and maybe at times we have been one of them. “Prayed for his friends.”

Before I give away the title of her message I have to share how God gave me the correlation and the revelation this morning between her message and my morning prayer. For years now I’ve always included these words in my prayers, “God, I pray for my family, my friends, and even my enemies.” I don’t know when or why it started but it has become a ritual. Maybe it started because at one time my enemies were once my friends – hmmm I think that’s it. “….and even my enemies.” Don’t get me wrong praying for your enemy takes skill. I first had to find a place to put my tongue; the roof of my mouth, in my jaw, somewhere away from my teeth to make certain that I didn’t bite it. It was hard…Every time I thought of what turned my friend into my enemy praying for them was the last thing that came to mind. Every time I thought of them in general my heart hardened and I thought more of vengeance than of prayer. “God, I didn’t do anything to deserve this, I’ve been nothing more than a friend. Why me?” I prayed more for myself. My aunt (God rests her soul) counseled me often giving me a scripture that made my enemies my footstool. “Read it everyday,” she would tell me, “and see how God will handle them.” She was right.

Job. Job’s devastations were many but they were all allowed by God even though they came from the hands of Satan. He lost everything. My co-pastor reminded us Job lost his oxen and donkeys, he lost his sheep, his camels, his servants and finally he was told that he lost his most precious gift; his children. As she put it Job had 10 obituaries to write, 10 children to bury all in the same day; yet in the midst of his grief he trusted God. He believed in God even when his helpmeet and his “friends” told him otherwise. For 30-something chapters Satan did all that he could but Job trusted God. Job went through hell – he felt like hell – he looked like hell but he continued to trust God. In the midst of all of his pain he poured out his soul to God and then he listened as God pour out His soul to him.

So if you are going through what seems like many trials and tribulations. If you’ve lost things that are important to you. If you’re wondering if you will ever make a way out of no way. If you’ve spent more time talking and listening to others rather than to God–keep trusting in God and remember Job 42:10. Pray for your “friends” because Job 42:12 is but a prayer away. God will bless the latter more than the first and it is then that you can “Tell All of My Haters, I’m Back!” TGBTG

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