In Which Rescue is on Deck

I turn 40 later this month, and as such have become hella reflective. This year has been one of the worst years of my life. So much so, I’m thinking of canceling my 40th birthday party. Please, please forgive my swears, but what is the gottdamb mutha-effin’ point of a celebration when you are wildly swiveling through the five stages of grief every other day or week? And please know, I do not say any of this lightly. I do not say that for the sake of page hits, Facebook hyperbole, ‘likes’ or pity.I say this because it’s completely, wildly, disappointingly, surprisingly, mortifyingly true. For those of you who’ve kept up with my blog & my writings know that the implosion of my 1st marriage, a complete breakdown, a fierce custody battle, an ugly divorce are all a part of my story, and that too was deeply painful. This year rivals the level of pain & hopelessness of those years. I cannot say why. I am still surprised at the turn of events. I only know life is as equally a nightm … [Read more...]

I Used To Be a Minister

I used to a be a Minister. I served in a ministry position for 12 years. For about 259 reasons I walked away from it, which was healthy & necessary at the time. Intuitively, I knew the storm brewing in my heart and life was bigger than I could handle. Also, I was one half of a crumbling, toxic marriage. As the nightmares of life grew I went on to have a breakdown of sorts including but not limited to PSTD, depression and spectacular moral failures of epic proportions. The marriage disintegrated into a million little ugly pieces, followed by a traumatic divorce & an equally traumatic custody battle where I genuinely feared I would lose my children. During that time, I lost my job, every penny I had, I was *nearly* homeless, slightly suicidal and spent a week in rehab followed by months in Anonymous meetings. I threw away a lot. I ran from a lot. I lost a lot. I hurt a lot. I was hurting. Deeply, deeply hurting.When I’ve casually thrown around the phrase “I put a blo … [Read more...]

On Fear

This morning I woke up afraid. There was a bit of a thunderstorm and the slow rumble while I slept jerked me awake in fear of an earthquake.  Earthquakes are incredibly rare where I live but the accompanying fear was now present despite its unrealistic origin. Instead of being able to roll over and go back to sleep the fear latched on to other things, as it almost always does because gripping fear is a miserable shrew.I wanted to hold my husband, desperate to be covered by him like a Mama bird engulfing her chick in her wings. I find complete safety in his embrace, particularly in the morning, providing me that extra courage typical from intimate human connection. But he’s not here this morning and I feel the loss of his physical presence acutely.  In the very next moment, I’m overcome with gratitude for his friendship and I know in the next few days he’ll be home. My love will be home and my anticipation momentarily calms.Yet, the fear of my waking moments coupled with overwhe … [Read more...]

God Knits

"And now you ask me through your tears, the age-old question through the years: Heredity or environment, which are you the product of? Neither, my darling, neither. Just two different kinds of love."////{via}Who am I? Why I'm here?I'm here because he saw her. They said yes to adulterous passion.  It's simple as that.Eons before all that, He decided to make a Grace Sandra Green.  Throughout 1976 He did a little knitting.  He knew my name, frame & favorite video game.  Tetris. A centennial baby, He said.That covers the "why," unless we focus on those pesky "why's" that give us these existential mid-life crisis'.Who am I after grit & grace, in between the passionate lover and the angry advocate?Dunno.I am lost. I am found.I am slathered in grace but bound by judgement.  {My own}I am quiet with Him.  I am loud in emotion.I am sorry.  I am proud.I am beautiful.  I am yellow.I am a Mama. I am selfish.I am dreaming.  I am nightmar … [Read more...]

When Jesus, Facebook apps, messenger bags, Scandal & Ruby Dee all Make Sense in the Same List

Beautiful Maya viaDon't shoot the messenger!Hey, I'm just the messenger!A flippant yet poignant phrase, no?  The implication that someone is bringing a message of some sort to me from someone else, carrying it like a box of unsteady explosives or a barrel of chocolates.  The medium is superfluous, the messenger simply has something to deliver and it's usually not from them.  Either way, a message is sent.When I think of MY recent messengers, and all the messages sent to my brain folds, a few salient examples come to mind...|||| The Facebook app, glorious messenger it is, always delivering straight to my brain through a ding and a touch, messages of friendship and reminders of people who love me.  Me!?!?!|||| The Bible.  Yesterday, Psalms 118: 5 slayed me. "Pushed to the wall, I called to God; from the wide open spaces, he answered.  God’s now at my side and I’m not afraid; who would dare lay a hand on me? God’s my strong champion; I flick off my enemies like flies. … [Read more...]

All That Is Certain…Just Like Winter

There's much to say...therefore I'll keep this short.There's much heavy.  So heavy I don't even if know if I can organize my thoughts properly under the weight of it.It's still Winter. Always Winter.Meshell, who loves me deeply -whom I love and trust deeply- says that the Devil has been trying to take me out of the game since birth.  She's right.  When I was in utero, a Pastor told my Mother to abort me.  How shameful for a unmarried white woman to give birth to a married black man's child!  How dare she consider allowing a bastard black child into this world in 1976?In allowing my birth, my Mother -in essence- told that Pastor to go fuck himself.*Language trigger alert: I will probably use more choice language in this post, because I am at the bitter end of my emotional limits and censorship isn't a top priority for today.*Meshell reminded me of that this morning bright & early.  She wanted me to be aware of that dynamic as I consider the major life-altering dec … [Read more...]

What Makes My Christmas Merry

Whose are you God?I am hers.She. The one who wants to be raped. Beaten. Pillaged. She does not want a man to make love to her. No. She wants to be screwed. It ain't pretty. It ain't romantic. It does not feel good. It does not need to. These are blurred lines. He knows she wants it.  Do it like hurt.I am hers.She. The one who does not want to be raped. But there she is. Raw. Red. Pulsing. Terrified.  It is finished.I am hers.She. The one who's husband left. He made her believe he loved her.  She thought she was somewhat worthy, somewhat loveable... Her reality is no longer. She's rocked.  Until hope comes, she's done.I am hers.She. She buried her Mama at 9.  She sat with her 13 siblings while they carried & laid her most treasure in the dirty ground.  Her existence sucked out from underneath her feet.I am hers.She. The whose husband beat, beat, beat her down. She got up but ultimately he won.I am hers.Whose are you God & for whom did … [Read more...]

Reflect

What do I reflect? Is it anger, beauty, sacrifice, love, hate, disappointment?  The complexity of all-of-the-above?(How terribly inconvenient of us humans to exist with such a myriad of reflections, eh?)When I think my last two highly emotive, off-the-cuff, honest posts not only do I get another vulnerability hangover but I wonder if I'm reflecting to you the version of myself I want to be?Because, reconciliation.Not just reconciliation between the halves of my racial and ethnic identity: white + black.  But because of: Me + You.  Husband + Wife.  Brother + Brother, all-things-to-all-things, all-people-to-all-people.  That, shalom-DEEP reconciliation that penetrates and permeates relationships so fully it is washed over in grace, love, truth, kindness, longs-uffering, faithfulness and more.  God is wholly other.  That's how he rolls.  It is because of THAT hope, because of that wholly other love that pushed reconciliation to it's furthest limits.  He put the weight of the … [Read more...]

Respect Your Story

I'm honored to welcome Minister Ken Pettigrew to my blog in his second guest post here.  Ken is a gifted man of God with a heart of gold.  He's a man of passion and an amazing thinker.  He's given us a beautiful gift of vulnerability in this post. (Thank you so much, Ken)! This is a brotha to respect.  His post today is kicking off a series of guests post over the next couple of months on the theme of Genesis 50:20, What you meant for evil, God meant for good.  This passage in particular stuck out to me a few weeks ago in a marriage class the hubz & I have been attending.  It's a complex idea worth exploring, especially when 'ish is hard!  Since I decided recently to put a little more focus into editing my 100,000 word BEHEMOTH of a memoir, it seemed a good time to invite my fellow writers to help explore this issue here, while I explore it in my book.I hope and pray the series will lead to an exploration of the redemption happening in your own life.  Amen & Amen. … [Read more...]

Three Simple Words

~When I first started walking with Jesus, I surrounded myself with a bunch of college-age Christians who were “on fire” for the Lord. Most of them were budding charismatics, and I sat among them—my little Baptist self—hearing concepts that I had never heard of before. Prior to college, I never knew that people in today’s day and age truly expected to hear from God personally.The first time I heard God speak, and knew it was God, was the year I lived with four friends. We were out on our own, and we were a hot mess. We showed our behinds, freely offering each other the worst of ourselves, but seldom the best. We were young, immature, irresponsible, and catty. Not only did we annoy each other, but because we were all striving hard to be solid Jesus lovers, we also tried to imbed ourselves deeply in each others spiritual lives—praying & reading together, talking about BIG important spiritual issues together—and all our ultra-spirituality taken together with our pitiful excuse for … [Read more...]