Weaknesses

I wish my weakness would just leave me alone
Sometimes I just feel like it'll never go home
As soon as I think I've got it in check
It comes and proclaims, "No girl, I'm back."

If I could only escape it for one moment of peace
My thoughts could collect enough for me to get back to me
But as I grow further into life's ups and downs
This weakness jumps out and demands to be found

I wake in the morning, all snug in my bed
And as soon as I open my eyes, weakness bears its dirty head
Its a battle I can't win all on my own
'Cause weakness has speed dialed my life right into its phone

I say to myself, "look at her, she looks like she's got it all together in these streets."
Knowing deep down, comparison and confidence are natural born enemies
Besides that I know, someone could be thinking that about me
Fighting to cleave to the good in thier identities

Me and old weakness, yeah we fight every day
Constantly struggling to move the other away
Thank God,  my Jesus took one for the team
Now I'm totally set free from the weaknesses that bound me

What is Beauty?

Picture provided by: www.theodysseyonline.com/beauty-not-duty

In the dictionary, beauty is defined as a combination of qualities such as shape, color, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight.  Another definition goes on to say that beauty is pleasurably exalting to the mind or spirit.  But what is true beauty? Really?

I remember being told once, by someone of great significance to me, that another woman was prettier because her skin was lighter, and she had longer hair.  The only thing I could think to respond with was, "Is it all hers?" (The hair that is).  I tried playing it cool, but inside the way I felt about myself was dying. The death was not a slow and agonizing one.  This one was a swift cut to the throat of my self confidence.

All of the beauty I thought I had slipped away on that day, and even now, almost two years later, I have yet to grasp a healthy grip of the confidence that used to be mine. What in the world was I thinking when I asked that question?  Is she prettier than me?  First of all, it was something I knew I truly didn't want to know the answer to given the source and circumstance.  Sometimes, I feel ignorance is truly bliss.

But was I truly confident in myself, and how God made me if one conversation could break me down so easily? Maybe if it were someone else the statement wouldn't have affected me the way it did.  I began looking at the complexion of my skin as if for the first time. Not that I had never noticed my golden brown tone, I had just never had a problem with it before.

For the first time I saw how dark my complexion was in comparison to a few of my friends.  I began to question if I was as pretty as they were, or just fooling myself.   My thoughts became an obsession of wondering if I was good enough; was my hair long enough, and how much sun could I avoid so my skin would not grow any darker?

Many years ago, when I was in the 10th grade, I remember walking down the hall to my next class and minding my own business.  Without being prompted, some random guy decided to step to me and say, "You look really lopsided.  If only the size of your breast matched with the size of your behind."  I didn't even know the guy's name, and could not remember ever seeing him in the hallway, but it was like what he said brought attention to my lack of awareness that I actually had small breast.

After that I began to watch as seemingly all the girls in my peer group developed and left me in the dust.  Where were my big breast?  Weren't they something I was supposed to have as a girl?  Why was it taking them so long to grow?  My mother always said that the breast I didn't yet have would come full circle and grow to match the size of just about every other woman on her side of the family when I had children.  I was excited to know this, and when I finally had children, was happy to see the evidence.  But just as soon as I decided to ween my children from nursing, my big breast decided to ween themselves from the girth of their size.

I've come to the conclusion that some women (women like me) are beautiful in our own minds until someone comes along and tells us that we are not according to THEIR standard of beauty.  Is a standard of beauty truly based off of what another person thinks, or is it how we should think about ourselves?  When God made man (including woman), He looked at His work, and said it was good.  So, if the Creator can look at His own work and say that how He made us was good, who are we to doubt that?

True beauty comes from within.  When you look in the mirror, it is how you view yourself, flaws and all.  It is how you accept the way God made you, because nobody can do you better than you do yourself.  It is being proud of the person you are and not comparing yourself to others.  Self confidence glows like a guiding light, and it will lead others to view you in the same way, and there is nothing more (humanly) beautiful than that.

The Trinity

Yesterday, as we were riding home from school, my youngest son asked me about the correlation between God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit. He didn't understand how when in church they say, "Jesus is God," that they are talking about a different person of God than God the Father and the Holy Spirit.

I have to admit this one puzzled me even into adulthood.  My explanation to him was something that was just recently revealed to me through listening to my pastor, reading my Bible, and the power of the Holy Spirit living inside of me.

In the Bible it states that when Christ ascended into Heaven, He left us with the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is our sealed promise that we belong in the Kingdom of God.  To my son, I explained that the Holy Spirit was kind of like DNA.  Anyone who wanted to know who he belonged  to (in the natural realm) could take a DNA sample from his blood, or any form of bodily fluid, and know that he belongs to his father and I.  In the same way, the Holy Spirit living inside of us allows for people to know who he belongs to (in the spiritual realm), should they test to see.

Romans 8:34 states that Christ Jesus, who died "is at the right hand of God..."  Even as He hung dying on the cross, Jesus spoke to His heavenly Father and asked mercy for all who were there and responsible for crucifying Him. Genesis 1:26 states, " Then God said, "Let us make mankind in our own image, in our likeness..." In Genesis 3: 22 after Adam and Eve ate from the tree bearing the knowledge of good and evil God said, "The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil."  Who was He talking to other than the Ones who bear witness with him in heaven; The Son, and The Holy Spirit?

There is further references to God in three persons in 2 Corinthians 13:14 and 1 Peter 1:2 (even more so than the ones I've listed in this blog post).  I believe now I have a better understanding of the Trinity, even though in the Bible the word is not technically mentioned, 1 John 5:7 does state "for there are three that bear record in heaven, the Father, The Word (who is Christ- the one who was with God the Father when Earth was formed), and the Holy Ghost: and these three are one."


There is much to learn when I do get to heaven, because I still struggle to communicate how God the Father is in three persons, but He is also one with Christ and the Holy Spirit to my children.  My hope is that as they grow older and more mature in their faith, they will learn, like I did, and through that learning process draw even closer to The Lord.

Stormy Days...

Nothing like clouds and rain
To wash away the aching pain
Of mystery united in intrigue

Those stormy days, they come they leave
But in them I can clearly see
The lightening flash of power and heat
A bonding between you and me

I can hear the thunderous roars
Your heart, it beats and pours and pours
Flash floods of aggression; puddles glazed in intimacy

Can you see my darkened skies?
A cover up so I can hide
These brewing forces fighting to rise
And claim my guarded city

Yet there is a great solace in
The spinning of chaotic winds
And fighting against the day's torrent of complexities

The complication in our chemistry
Stirs an unwelcome surge of  unease
Among those who long for sunny rays

And as the clouds begin to fade
The light breaks through on a new day
Nothing can ever take away
Passions shared in those stormy days




*Sometimes poetry just comes to me & I gotta get the words out.  I feel like this is what its like inside some relationships.  If you sit back and watch, you sometimes have to wonder WHY IN THE WORLD these two people are together (no one in particular, just an observation), but then... There can be no other explanations except that they must enjoy the storm...

Black Lives Matter

photo provided by: https://theodysseyonline.com/yes-all-lives-matter-but

The Black Lives Matter campaign was brought about in recent years because of the increasing number of Black lives being lost to law enforcement officers, and so-called 'neighborhood watch' vigilantes like George Zimmerman.

Lives such as those of Tamir Rice, a 12 year old boy shot down by police for playing with a toy gun. No charges were filed against the officers because they said he "did not exercise due care to avoid injury." Really? A 12 year old? Do authorities truly believe that a 12 year old has the mental maturity to know what to do when law enforcement officers who have sworn to protect and serve him, are pointing their weapons in his direction?  I'm sure this child was totally frightened.  I'm sure he didn't wake up thinking that that particular day would be the last day of his life.  The world will never know his potential of greatness because on that day, his Black life didn't matter.

Samuel Dubose was shot in the head by Officer Ray Tensing, who lied about being drug by Dubose's car as his reasoning for the shooting.  After the release of the video, in which Dubose was being pulled over for a missing front license plate, (is that even against the law??) it was shown that the victim was unarmed, and had not acted in an aggressive way what-so-ever before being murdered. As a matter-of-fact, the shooting by the officer was referred to by members of the court as "senseless," and "asinine."  It is a great thing that the officer's own body camera was able to catch what truly happened and hold him accountable by exposing his lies.  But on that day, did Samuel Dubose's Black life matter?

Sandra Bland was pulled over in Prairie View, TX. for not using a signal during her turn in traffic. This young, educated woman, who happened to be a very candid voice on social media for the rights,or lack there-of, of people in the Black community, ended up dead in jail after a minor traffic stop.  This traffic stop in particular was one where you had a Black female who continued to proclaim her rights as a citizen to the arresting officer.  One can only wonder would this woman be alive today if she had not been pulled over by an officer who chose to flaunt his power simply because he did not like what she had to say.  On that Sandra Bland's Black life did not matter.

Quanell X, one of the Houston area's local activist, stood against the actions of the police department in their protection of Sandra Bland's arresting officer.  To protect and serve is what they take oath to do, but it seems there is an underlying meaning in that promise.  All stops were pulled out as the department relocated this officer to a complex in Katy, TX, away from his home.  Though there was a non-violent protest organized by Mr. X, and advertised as such in meetings, armed officers on horseback, in cars, and on foot lined the outside of the complex to ensure this officer's safety against unarmed, non-violent people.

To protect and serve... An oath taken in reference to their own.  Why weren't these stops pulled to protect the lives of the lost? Even an animal has laws in place to protect the way they can be killed, or whether you can kill them at all.  Was Michael Brown's life not worth even the least bit as much as that of an animal? Besides the fact that his activities were delinquent, he was still just an 18 year old young man shot down by police and left on display in such a way that it was inhumane.

How many cameras had the opportunity to catch footage of his lifeless body still laying in the street hours after the officer had shot, then disregarded him? Even the carcasses of road kill have been picked up faster, and handled with  more care.  On that day, did Michael Brown's Black life matter?

Yes, many will say all lives matter, and of course that is a fact, but if all lives truly mattered, would there have been a need for the Black Lives Matter campaign?  Would I have to teach my two Black son's to watch their backs where the police are concerned, because they are automatically at a disadvantage due to the color of their skin?  One-sixteenth of an inch separates them from their white counterparts in the justice system... One-sixteenth of an inch in a piece of skin.  Do all lives really matter?  I think not.

Guns and Violence

On the drive in to school this morning, my sons and I had a conversation about gun violence among the nation's police force.  My solution has always been to take away guns from every one, even law enforcement agencies.  The logic behind it being that if fire arms aren't so easily accessible, then the chances of innocent people being killed will decrease.

It was only when my youngest son made the suggestion that the S.W.A.T. team should be the only group allowed to have guns because they are the ones you call on when circumstances are serious enough, that I began to reconsider my solution.

Members of a department's S.W.A.T unit have to already meet meticulous minimal requirements in order to even be considered. They also have to undergo psychological evaluations to see if they are mentally prepared for the commitment to the job;  advanced tactical training in firearms to build on their skills for a more precise aim; and meet strict regulations set about by authorities.

My son's reasoning for making fire arms available and accessible to this particular unit of people was to provide protection in the case of a bomb threat, or terrorist attack,. With those out there who make demented plans to harm others, and have the mental capabilities to design and build their own homemade bombs, the nation will need this type of protection. It will provide a greater sense of security knowing we have highly trained officers such as those on the S.W.A.T. team to have our backs.

My son also mentioned how, if an officer were to kill someone, especially the innocent, their punishment should be just as severe as those who were to kill an officer of the law.  Being that we're all citizens with (so-called) equal rights, I can only see this as a fair analogy.

If it were up to me, I would remove guns from every law enforcement office, home, and high court in the world.  It would be a better, and more safe place to live without them.  But since that is next to impossible, I say we should take time and listen to the advice of some of our youth.  "Out of the mouths of babes" can come wise counsel for those who take the time to listen.

*For more on guns and violence in the between police and the minority community, please read my next blog: Black Lives Matter.

photo courtesy of: https://sites.google.com/a/nvusd.org/change-makers-guns-and-violence/

Living with Depression

photo provided by:  /www.theodysseyonline.com/struggles-people-suffer-anxiety-depression-avoid-talking

Yesterday one of the students at my school pulled out a "chord" from his backpack and proceeded to wrap it around his neck.  He began to strangle himself with such a force it required great effort by the PASS teacher to free him from his own hold.

This bothered me because this particular child I tend to compare with a Chihuahua, small in stature and all bark with no bite. He seems to feel the need to vocally defend himself even though there may not be a threat of attack. His form of physical aggression is typically to throw a desk across the room while shouting expletives to whomever will listen, but never has he been known to put his hand on anyone; until yesterday, when he chose to put his hands on himself. 

I look at this child and wonder if he lives with the same crippling entity that I have lived with for so many years.  

Depression is an ever-present body that lurks in the minds of its victims, waiting for its chance to break through and destroy their peace of mind.  I live with it, not inside my own head, but it is still a strong presence in my life. A presence which has taken hold of some who I love the most.  One in whom I promised to love for better or for worse, through sickness and in health. 

Mental health doesn't tend to be looked upon, or considered with as much concern as we do physical; but it can be just as debilitating to one's life as a cancer cell that is allowed time to grow and spread. Approximately 14.8 million adult Americans are affected by this illness, and it comes in 3 forms:  Major Depression, Persistent Depressive Disorder (or PDD), and Bipolar Disorder, formally called Manic Depression.

Looking at the people I love suffer produces a consistent feeling of helplessness.  I struggle still to understand how, even when everything is lined up right in their lives, the glass, in their view, is always half empty.

I remember growing up and watching my own sister struggle with something we just couldn't understand.  Back then we simply referred to her as "different." She seemed to take no joy in what one would consider a happy occasion. 

Once, my mother and I had taken her to a carnival, where the merry-go-round was a ride we felt would get her spirits up. She was only about 6 years old at the time, and I remember thinking how happy she should be to experience her first ride on a merry-go-round.  My mother and I stood and watched as she went around and around, clapping and cheering her on for motivation; yet she looked as if she had the world on her shoulders.  The whole time she rode, she did not smile once.  She kept watching us as if there was a great desire to be rescued from what ever it was she was suffering through.

We didn't understand what was going on with her. Her being "different" seemed only to get worse as she grew older.  My mother always felt that if we prayed hard enough, Jesus would fix her, and I agreed, but even the Bible states that faith without works is dead.  Yes, Jesus would fix her, but we also needed to have the knowledge and resources to go about working out our faith.   These things wouldn't come along until years down the line, when she was an adult and able to go get diagnosed on her own.

As many as 1 in 33 children may already suffer from depression, and may not even know it.  This is of great concern to me because young people are driven by so many emotions that they may not have the tools or maturity level to control.  Those emotions can drive them to do things, that if not guarded, can cause serious, even permanent consequences.

I thank God all the time that my loved ones are still here, living life and warrioring through their struggles. It is not easy, for either those who suffer from it, nor the ones, like me, who live with it and are affected by its existence. Still, even now, I struggle within myself to understand the seriousness of this condition; until I hear about a life being taken away by the ravaging hands of the depression storm.

Depression is very real, and not something that can be wished away or overcome by sheer will power. If you think lightly of this illness, like I used to, simply because you don't suffer from it personally, think again.  It can attack in the most unexpected of places, and through the most unassuming people, because it wears many masks.

One would never guess my own husband to be a sufferer because he tends to put on a happy face so others will be protected from his feelings. That is the nature of his character, to protect, while he suffers alone; but I don't plan on letting him do that any more. I can't... I won't...