A warcry

I just wasn’t trying to go to jail.

Again.

See what had happened was.

Back back in the day, well three years ago, I roll up on the block. Uninvited. He was sitting in the car with, not his woman, not his wife but his sidechick. His forever side chick. The woman that has seen him have at least nine babies with 8 other women. She has always been there, I mean just there.

I believe you can love someone and just not value them. But how can you treasure another when you have yet to learn your own worth?

Yes she was one of those.

I mean the tattoo he had even got covered up once he came to his senses. I saw it. I shook my head.

Some people never learn.

Anyway. I was tired of taking care of the child that it literally took me almost twenty nine years to have, alone.

I mean it wasn’t that I meant to wait that long. I just happened to be waiting on my husband for my first pregnancy. Okay maybe I wasn’t trying to have kids at all. Ever. Maybe because men scared me. Maybe because my childhood best friends mother died of that incurable disease that she acquired a deficiency in her years of life because her husband couldn’t keep it in his and her pants only.

So yeah, no, children was not really a part of my big success plan as i watched my friend be penalized as children shunned her for something that was not her fault.

Good ole God, pushing Radiance to stay around. Everyone needs someone.

Sometimes though we just forget who held us down before we got put on.

I digress.

Baby daddy. In car. With sidechick. I’m angry.

I’m ready for war.

I’ve never been the scary type. So. I aggravate him. Too petty. Call them peoples and block him in. Yes.

I had some growing up to do.

But his call was one better. Or maybe it was my smart mouth to the officers I called.

Thank God for change.

But exchanges went back and forth. I taunted and tempted the sidechick. She called her sisters, friends and cousins.

You know what scared chicks do. Get their crew. She grabbed pipes.

I was solo.

I had a tire iron though.

But when I tried to be in her face woman to woman she kept running backwards, until I turned my back to her and as she grabbed the sixteen inches of my jet black Mohawk extensions I went down.

Was I just snaked?

When I got up and she was running backwards scared but my smart mouth had already gotten me in trouble with the police officers so they just carried me away.

With the pepper spray in my eyes that was sprayed in my face, and I was the perpetrator.

That devil shole nuff know he busy. Was what I wanted to say. But. Had I kept on my own way minding my own business he would never had a chance to get me in the situation. I had to learn how to take accountability for my actions and behavior, before my walk with Christ.

What is it about me that he stay accusing me falsely and having people whom I held down turn against me? Before I realized I was given power to tread, I stayed in my own mess and kept giving wickedness a hold over me. Yes. It was my baby daddy that signed my go directly to jail, do not pass go, do not collect $200 papers.

Yes.

I was locked up they wouldn’t let me out. Until I was moments away from being processed into the general population of the county jail.

No. Not the county.

Yes. There.

I didn’t even get to lay hands on the girl though.

Oh well. I didn’t even know that then two years before I got saved God was fighting for me. I probably could’ve saved the $2500 I spent on my lawyer, but how would I pursue my nursing career with charges on me? Especially ones that were totally false.

So when someone recently decides she wants to try to provoke me, I’m like no. I will let the proper authorities know. I know God is fighting for me, so I won’t let anything the enemy tries to tempt me into hinder my flow with Christ.

Wisdom. It comes from growth and maturity. Maturity from trading Gods word and no longer feeding on the milk part, but ready for meat and potatoes.

So I know trouble will always come. But I know who I serve.

God is fighting for us, pushing back the darkness, lighting up the kingdom that cannot be shaken. In the name of Jesus the enemies defeated. And we will shout it out. Shout it out!!

So shout. My war cry let’s God know I am totally dependent on Him to fight for me.

Yes my God had been and will continue to fight for me!

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In my feelings

I’m in my feelings today.

I wish I didn’t have to work so hard to take care of my daughter since there is no help from my mother, father, or blood family members. We’re not going to even talk about her father!

But I do.

I used to be accessible to men on their whims. Now though I have to cater to my daughter and since God used her life in my womb to bring me back to life I have to honor my gift.

Plus she is such a beautiful sweetheart I can’t help it!

So. I couldn’t do what I wanted to do because I had to take care of my business! Most men would want a woman that takes care of her business because he will know that she is not just about bringing his ideas to life by being there for him when he says jump but she has the vision to create her own life!

You know Jay Z and Beyoncé. Partner let me upgrade you!

Oh well!!

I’m in my feelings.

I don’t like many so when I do I get like a horse with blinders I only see the goal!

And since I had no time to spend I missed my beat. But if it had been my beat I would never have missed it right? If only he had been willing to wait until November and I had enough time to be out and about maybe he would’ve seen I might’ve been an option worth exploring.

Yes. I’m in my feelings.

But there are too many maybes for me to be in my feelings for a good reason.

I actually got the chance to spend time with my sister this weekend. We talked, we prayed, we laughed, we shopped.

We worshipped together.

We were on our way to go back to her house while she slept and I cooked when we saw a woman who looked as if addiction and tragedy took hold of her.

She began speaking about the importance of not having sex before marriage. Clearly she was high but she was speaking the truth. She then went into how women need each other.

Obviously. Every woman I have talked to that has been addicted to crack cocaine has been quick to tell of the man that introduced her to it.

See men don’t nurture. Their job is to provide and protect. And if a woman does not have a relationship with God she will look for that longing of relationship and love from a man. Which from the standpoint of a man I used to talk to that is not something that is easy for them.

But God. He will lead her to other women. Like Naomi and Ruth. Like Mary and Elizabeth. Mary and Martha.

Yes. In this season as I heal from the hurt of interactions with men I need the loving touch of my sisters. I need the kind words of my sisters. A man is just going to say get over it. But he can’t understand the beats of a woman’s heart.

Another woman can. She knows how. No one needs the why when it comes to a woman undone. But how to deal with it is something that is only going to come from another woman.

So. I guess I’ll come outside of my feelings. A man that can’t wait for an off day to spend a little time with me definitely wouldn’t have waited for me as far as not having sex before marriage. He probably would have pushed and persisted and never understood that my shyness with men may come from having said no one too many times and men not hearing me but forcing themselves on me anyway. Literally grabbing me out my sleep.

And a man who thinks with logic and not their heart will ask all sort of crazy questions like why was I there? Well I was displaced living with a childhood friend. Who left her boyfriend at her place and since I had just moved back from Boston and was waiting for space to come available in the dorms I had to stay with her.

I just never imagined her boyfriend wouldn’t take no for an answer.

A man who thinks with his mind and not his heart will say crazy things like maybe you did something to ask for it.

But I have always been direct about what I want. No need to beat around the bush. If I want you I’ll let you know.

Yeah a man that didn’t have the patience to wait for an off day wouldn’t have the patience to wait for a mending heart to totally heal.

So.

My feelings take a back seat to what I have and not what I want.

I have SISTERS. I have women around me that know me and love me for real.

I still know who I am and what I can and will inevitably bring to the man willing to be patient and wait on me. I know how to bring out the best in Anyone. I know how to work hard and take care of home and family and still go after my dreams.

So. I celebrate who I am and who I am becoming and know the man willing to wait on me will be getting a good thing indeed.

So I prepare. In preparation to become someone’s good thing because every good and perfect gift comes from God. As I prepare I learn who I am and how important I am to God, my sisterhood and one day the man God sends to get me.

So I lay flesh aside and let my feelings take a backseat. One day and soon what is for me will be and I will be happy to be chosen by one who even if he never understands my heartbeat, he will share mine.

So until then I focus on me and being all God called me to be.

October 26th. UIC Pavilion. 10 am. Just one yes, will change your life

I can finally listen to on the run part II without bawling and crying my eyes out.

Yeah dude.

I was kinda gone on you.

I usually don’t do this falling in love thing, but you happened to meet me at this new creature in Christ me.

That’s why I kept choosing not to hit the B. See God delivered me and I no longer enjoy clouds of smoke blocking my vision from me to be able to see the real me.

No shade on you though. I’ve done the research. I’m an advocate for medical marijuana. If you need it you need it, just don’t abuse it!

Anyway. Once I love. I love for real. I know the real definition of love. I’ve only felt it twice. You were the second to last after a series of fourteen years of hit and misses. Because while you may be attracted to the God in me, and love the real love I give you I believe you’d rather be my friend than my man. So my final destination of love is out here somewhere.

Only God knows!

So.

I’m listening to on the run. Part II. And I did. I thought the part II of me falling in love with the bad guy would be the one to turn your life around.

See me inviting you to church never had anything to do with relationships. I told you once. Those had never been my forte. And you concurred with the fact that what good is the title if our behavior didn’t line up with the names we had assigned to each other.

Deep my friend.

For a young dude your head was almost on straight.

I just couldn’t understand why you keep going back to the street life that stays calling you. When those bullets hit. I thought that would have been enough. But continuously pushing away the source of happiness and peace, safety and protection.

You know I’m not talking about me. But Jesus, without the Jay. Never. Jay could never have made it without Jesus. I hope you remember that moment. Sometimes the smoke causes memories to go up in it. We forget the moments that once took our breath away.

So here.

I’m hoping you have just gotten off work. Doing what you do. Reading this blog. It’s an unmailed letter to you.

See. That day I didn’t want to be kept, but God kept me anyway. I knew my life was about to change. I was still in my feelings back then. But God has plans for our lives. I’ve chosen Him so He chooses me too.

See I didn’t see how sharing my body could apologize for cursing you out. I’m a woman. My body is not a bargaining tool. Its precious. In the eyes of God, a vessel to be used for his honorable purposes.

Yes. My old life is through.

So. I am thankful.

I wanted to feel bad when you talked about where I was living, not working, taking the bus with my daughter. Talking about me, when you said you loved me and I thought love was kind which means it would offer help needed.

Its alright.

We breakup to make up. We fight then apologize. That’s the real basis of friendship. Seeing where we went wrong with the people that love and care about us and correcting the situation.

Because in the end it was the push I needed to get off my behind and put in work!

God helped me. We moved into a three bedroom home. I work full time. Even baby daddy back working to have a check sent bi weekly. So a car note would be nothing, but material things have never impressed me, so they have never been the motive.

Still no shade babe.

All I know is I wanted to get life from you. But God showed me His light and I was hooked.

He says taste and see that He is good.

Yes. Lord.

He’s still knocking on the door of your heart.

Moses ran. From God and his family and friends. All because he murdered a man. And God still used him for a great assignment. Even afflicting his sister with leprosy for talking about him behind his back.

So.

The choice is yours.

All I know is, as you know, I’m a special type of woman to deal with. You have this calming presence that mellows out my hyper. I been saying. Something special about you.

Like you say. I always seem to KNOW. Nah you know that’s God always using me to tell you what He wants you to know. Or showing me what I need to see. Either way it go it’s your time.

The time is now.

You’ve got children to raise.

So how long will your answer to God take to make it a yes?

Well Done Good and Faithful Servant

I dont know why I have such a hard time trusting God. Having Faith in His promises are not always the easiest thing for me.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that the only person who showed me continuous love died when I was nine. The family let me leave the house on my way to school without allowing me the opportunity to say goodbye. By the time I got off my schoolbus that evening my mother had to hold me up as she told me the news before we even got back to the house. She was rather calculating, cold and almost callous. Not purposefully. But she was thirty. She did not know what she was going to do without her mother.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that I believed when my mother called me as I sat on my twin sized dorm room bed and told me she had the very same thing her mother died from that maybe she would beat it. Maybe history would not repeat itself. Maybe getting the help she needed would be all the fight she needed. I didnt realize her husband the man who worked for the insurance agency and claimed he didnt have a life insurance policy on her at all, would not take her to the doctor. Would not allow her family and friends to talk to her. By the time I got to my mom my stepfather was on a camping trip, and after that he went to Alabama to visit. I had to call him and let him know my mother was falling and not able to get up. The decline happened so fast. He asked if I thought he should come back home. I almost cursed him out. I maintained my composure.

See by the time he got back and my mother sitting in her chair unresponsive, bed sores underneath her behind grossly out of control the fact that I wanted to call an ambulance to finally get my mother the help she needed had my stepfather and his mother looking at each other with the utoh face.

They were nervous.

See I didnt care about her mink hat and fur and leather coats that were missing. I didnt care about the gold that she had not been able to hide away was not there. I merely wanted to know why someone would not take care of another human being. Let alone someones mother. Mine. And his wife.

None of that matters.

The same day we took her to the hospital as the tests were ran the report was too bad to repeat. My mothers only medicine was Tylenol three. Yet God kept her in perfect peace. And I had to tell her almost like she did with my grandmother, rather abruptly that she didnt have long to live.

Such is life.

The beauty in all that is my time spent with her. People sitting around her bedside singing songs and holding her hand. When I finally put the APB out to her friends what her husband was hiding they came in droves. So much food. My first boyfriends mother was a CNA and she would come over and help us take care of her in the way only a CNA knows how to care for people. How to nurture the hurting, and bring light to a bleak situation.

So back to the trust issue.

For the past three days the schedule at my job has been placing me on a floor I didnt want to go. No. NO. I wont do it. I will take care of anyone. Anyone. I have my universal precautions to protect me. Nah for real. I’ve got God. But its something about the team work of the ones on the floor I prefer. Its not only women, its men too. So for the heavy stuff there is help for my still achy back. No I didnt want to leave my people. Or the teamwork I have found to be vital for me.

But the floor I was being sent to is the easiest floor in the building.

I dont care about anything easy. I know that anything worth having is worth working for. The woman that will work two full time jobs to meet a need will put in the work to please God by being his servant caring for his people.

SO today. They bring my people with me. They move the two floors around and we work together as always to make things happen.

I feel God. So heavy on me! I’m like what is it you want me to do?

Repent. For not wanting to care for his people. He sent me here to do a job. Its not about an easy load. Its not about working with the men that I will inevitably flirt and joke with all the while getting help with my set and assignment. Its about Gods will being done and me allowing Him to do it. I may not want to do it. But I have to in order to please God and be a good servant.

So. I do.

I find the one he wants me to work with. She’s working in the set of the man I need to be avoiding, the one that reminds me why people get into relationships with people they work with because they spend so much time together. The man that my flesh needs to be running from and of course as I help her he leaves me to the task. I can handle it though. God made it this way. As we give God glory together, and I cry tears of joy that she allowed me to help her when no one else on the floor she was willing to let touch her I can’t help but thank God for him allowing me to be used by him. I am thankful to be a servant!

I keep hearing that it’s time for a new thing and it is time for growth. It is time for change. It is time to let God do that new thing.

He had to strip me of everything I once knew to get me to where he needs me to be. I would have never become anything in the medical field. I would’ve been a professor of literature one day not using my gift of hospitality to make God’s people feel comfortable in troubling times.

Yes. I am a nurturer. The love I give causes hurting hearts to heal. God gave me this. Maybe I had to learn how to deal with pain on such magnified levels so that I would be of assistance to those who never learn how to deal with their pain , so they replace it with addictions.

Yes. Its no longer about me. I am at the point of, if I want to do it I am probably not supposed to. And if I don’t it is probably something God is orchestrating for me. Its going to be a blessing in it for my obedience.

I mean how easy would obedience be if we all got the chance to do something we wanted to? Obviously, its such a big deal because the things we want to do are not what God wants.

So I walk.

I write about the things in my past that hurt me in order to purge. Because I can’t be free from it until I release it.

In obedience I move. Storing up my treasures in heaven. Hoping that my Father will one tell me. Well done my good and faithful servant.

Key words to happiness

You know how you have an issue with one of your features.

Then someone comes along and points it out to you. Now whenever you look in the mirror you can’t concentrate on your good. The only thing you can see now is the flaw.

Ahhh. I get it. If you teach me how to have a problem with myself I will believe that I deserve your mistreatment of me because with the flaw that obviously everyone sees no one else will want me.

Wrong. Dead. Wrong.

Epic fail.

See I have come to understand that when some people don’t accept themselves they want to make another feel unlovable and unworthy so they will put up with the shenanigans of one that does anything to gain attention for what they always felt was unwanted and unattractive.

I, however, won’t play these games with grown boys. I know it all too well.

See for one I was too fat. Maybe I was big. Okay I was a size too big. I was only nineteen. I am 5’9. I was already feeling some type of way.

Emotional eating.

A new city. My mother’s new husband. Getting kicked out of my religion. For the man that said I was too big. My family and friends cannot talk to me. Yes. Emotions running high meant my clothing stretched out. So I lost weight. I did things I will never be proud of to lose that weight. Just to make him want me. The plan was to never go back. I always ran back.

I felt I needed his validation.

So when the only guy that ever reminded me of the first love had something to say about something else I just looked at him, his this that AND the third and thought, really? You have the audacity?

See I used to care about outward appearances. Now the beauty in a person is who their hearts show them to be. Do you scoff at the hungry homeless man? Yeah I know what having to leave my roof feels like because of x,y,z. So I give. Freely. Do you try and place yourself on a pedestal? And put others down? I know thats just insecurities and inadequacies made manifest like don’t look at my mess look at that over there, see what they don’t have and since I got it I must be something special. No special is what goodness you have to breathe into a person dying for love or just a human connection. Like a compliment just because. No you don’t have to know or even like a person to show an act of kindness.

I know. Rare is the person that I like. However, I love everyone. Therefore I show kindness.

No I’m not better. I work to please God. No its not easy and I have off days, but when I do it I always feels better for making someone else feel good because most days are a struggle.

So. To those that use their words to kill and destroy. I have been that girl, turned woman. I lost a lot. Probably reaping for destruction. Now I live to up build. Now I live to empower. Daily. Again I reiterate. Its a struggle. But just finding one nice thing to say to a perfect stranger and look. There you go impacting the world and stuff.

Who will remember me? Only the Lord knows. Whose world will I impact. Again only the Lord knows. Since His approval just became the only one to matter I just want to live to hear, good job my faithful servant.

So I let the blood drip to my chin. All the words my bitten tongue is holding in. If it won’t up build I won’t say it. Save the juicy stuff for publishers and editors. Until then let the positivity like waterfalls rush into each and every one of our spaces to make waves to surfbort on.

Yes. That’s a true flow of happiness.

Friends aren’t always friendly

I think he said once that he draws strength from me. So when times get rough the gentle encouraging nature I present him with motivates him to be better.

I don’t know what it is.

All I know is I love him.

Am I in love. Nah. Is it easy for me to love? Yea. Jesus is my Savior and since that’s what He asked me to do I will do it.

I can’t say my feelings aren’t hurt. Not in the way I want to hold onto a love never quite actualized type of way.

I thought we were going to try and be friends.

I should have known better.

image

Yeah. We’ve shared a bond how can we be friends with no feelings attached?

I mean it wasn’t like I waited for him to call or text me on a holiday for lovers. But I’m just saying perfect strangers came up to me wishing me a happy day. Sending texts. See friend. I don’t get why every time we separate and decide to talk again you wonder about what my man is doing.

I thought we had this conversation. I pretty much been single since my baby daddy. That mess traumatized me. Scared me from relationships for real. I had no religion, and didn’t worship God anywhere, but I was abstinent for two years just about, afraid of finding another man like my daughter’s father.

That was my nightmare.

For real.

No.

I’ve spent the majority of my life spending a little time with a man then all of a sudden he wants to hold onto me, cuff me, wife me, whatever terminology men were using at the various times.

So word.

I’ve never had an opportunity to date.

Loyalty is a lifestyle and I tend to know what I want and even when I know. I always seemed to know about the other women or lifestyles I could never accept, but when I love its for real.

So yes. I thought we were friends. I thought I would hear from you. But I did not.

See the old me would shut down and stop doing what God is sending me forth to do.

Everyone wants to be held every once and a while.

Not this time.

All it did was show me, that while i may not be ready for the relationships I never wanted in the first place, maybe just maybe, I am finally ready to begin dating.

I mean how can I know how to see what I will accept and what I will not if I’m so used to meeting a dude, rolling around the hood or going to Friday’s and that’s it.

See what happened to me was. When I got to the program in my undergrad I was exposed to a life of five star restaurants and five star hotels as I was being prepared for upper echelon life.

No. I’m no longer a child. I cannot think the thoughts of a child.

I may look young, but I’m a GROWN woman. And I know the value I will indeed add to any mans life. Which makes me the prize. And while all these women not knowing their worth putting a man on a pedestal and never fully understanding what it means to love oneself make it hard for a woman like me I am willing to wait.

I can compromise on things like outer appearances. But how I will be valued treated and respected not a chance!

So. To my friend. I have a lot of friends. I love them all similarly the same. Some really want to keep a smile on my face, and with all the nonsense I’ve been through I am thankful for someone willing to be kind enough to think outside the box and try to figure out something about another instead of just looking to have a notch, or someone else’s validation because they have a pretty, new, lady on their heels.

Some games shouldn’t be played. Some women will have you falling harder than a Sunday in September. I mean it don’t take a whole day to recognize sunshine. And without it. Yeah we know what falls on us all.

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So. I let people do them. I never have to push and persist. I’ve always known that Radiance is pretty darn special. If you choose to find out and treat me right so my value never gets lessened by the slew of words that may come forth from.my.mouth. then kudos to you.

So. Maybe I was in my feelings a little bit today. But its okay friend. I love you anyway.

Friendship is special that way!

I don’t need no man

Somehow women got the ‘game’ all messed up.

They talk about how they need a man for this. They need a man for that. What they need in a man.

Wrong. Epic fail.

Now don’t get me wrong. I never bought into feminism. I don’t go into that whole independent woman thing. If I am single then yes, I must be independent. But if I have a man then I have to come into subjection to him and hopefully will have chosen a man of God that will come into subjection to Christ which will make me being in submission all the easier.

Yes. I can do it alone. But we were created in pairs so get this.

We were created to help a man.

Not the other way around.

See what happened with that man, he gave a huge sacrifice for the woman. He went into a deep sleep, gave his rib for his woman and woke up to find the one that he thought was there to help him so when she helped him help himself to a piece of forbidden fruit he like Mary J, went down.

Cause he no longer was able to be around.

God!

Man and God. Woman and man. Three makes one.

Just like Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Three makes one.

That don’t mean we are one and the same, we are just three in one mind and one union to create one whole being!

Its a mind thing.

So.

No I don’t need a man. I get help from my male coworkers because I am told by society I am supposed to be dainty and feminine. As if muscles negate my femininity. But I can life a two hundred pound person by myself. I was in labor for forty hours. Yes. Sunday night, Monday night. Tuesday morning. Momma deceased, Father deceased. Only child, at that time. And a slew of frenemies, and a other half of that baby sending me messages by MySpace calling me out my name.

Whatever yo. Strength is not just in the pounds my muscles can carry, its the mental obstacles and sometimes physical manifestation of pain in the body that one goes through and overcomes.

Yes. I am an overcomer.

In being an overcomer I am a woman who knows how to help a man.

So many women have potential in a good man, but because they are willing to accept them at their menial levels they miss out on the dynamic and dynamite person he was created to become.

You know what I am talking about. The woman that allows the man to have his many women and still puts up with being one of many. Or the woman that allows a man to verbally abuse her, physically abuse her and never holds him accountable for his actions so he is in a mind state that it is okay for him to continue to be the same person.

Trust me. I know about respect. Only one man has ever EVER called me out my name, and/or put his hands on me and after his correction, in a place where strangers became mates, inmates became basketball buddies, he changed his tune and has never called me one again.

Because I know my role as a woman.

My mother married my stepfather. He was making less than six dollars an hour. They were borrowing money from me the seventeen year old go getter. Buy when it was all said and done. Nine years later the year my mother died he was making over seventy thousand dollars a year, no degree. Just a highschool diploma.

Yes.

The man who finds a wife. Finds a good thing.

Every woman with a ring ain’t no wife. I know. I had one once. His mother gave him her ring for me but I couldn’t push him to his potential.

I could be pretty though. I could keep him comfortable in my arms missing his soccer games because the rain made cuddling the thing to do, afterwards, instead of pointing him in the direction of discipline and his future and goals.

Yes. I had a ring. I was not a wife.

The man that finds a wife. Not a woman he puts a ring on her finger. Because its about how she is going to help him. Not spend all his money. Not give him sorrow and grief. Not beat him up with reminders of the past. Not worry about other women, because when a woman is confident and sure of herself she don’t have to even mention the others.

She knows that she is the prize!

Yes. Now that’s confidence!!

So. I think of the time I had been wifed up with no ring.

Three years of my life. I spent dreaming big with him. We started off in junior college together. He believed that going to school would bring him happiness. I saw his genius mind struggling with schoolwork. I would from time to time do his work for him. I’m good at writing, so I would write his papers. But we dreamed.

We created a visual.

He wanted to cut hair. I said pursue your dreams. He wanted to make beats. I would let him go crazy on fruity loops that was on my computer. Over ten years ago. I loved him. I just couldn’t be honest about not being in love with him. I pushed him but I didn’t want him for myself. I know how to be honest about feelings. So I am.

Anyway these days he’s a master barber, producing beats and loving on the woman that truly loves him for him.

Yes. Women help men. And a wife is supposed to help a man be the best he can be. She is supposed to teach him things. He will do the same for her. It is an exchange. Its like two puzzle pieces coming together to create a beautiful picture.

So no. I don’t need a man. I am finally okay with the truth. I want one. But only at the right time with the right one. I refuse to settle for less than what God has PREPARED for me. I know how to date and enjoy me. I walk in confidence so that means I know how to walk alone. Solo.

Everyone doesn’t need to know every step taken or every move made. Something’s are better left a beautiful secret away from the eyes of fake friends, and desirous and envious wanters. Those who want what you have and speak against what you are holding onto.

So. Women want. Men need. And want. But wanting what’s best for you is really about discernment and allowing God to lead.

Because really guys? What kinda woman are you going to find if you don’t let God lead you to her? A man that doesn’t follow, won’t be the man she allows to lead her because sometimes we need a little growth and maturity and freedom from the past before we can move into our new best selves.

Can’t run forever.

So stand firm. Stand for what you believe. Stand on Gods perfect love! And stand on your own two feet. Because sometimes when a woman teaches a man how to love her the man that chooses to love her the way she wants to be is the one preparing to do what needs to be done to keep her.

So yes. I want a man. Only if he’s my man. I need God, so I believe He will lead me to the man He has chosen specifically for me!

That pretty little thing called love

So.

Last year I fell in love. At the age of 32. I fell in love for the second time.

That may not be a big deal to many, but it was the second time in a lifetime of too many potentials.

See I was the chick that didn’t want to get married because I knew he would bore me, I would probably cheat, and then dismiss him.

Thank God for change! Cashing in on that change that keeps me grounded and rich in more then just Frank’s, and Benji’s.

Unfortunately for me I am not an emotional chick. I think logically. I would rather analyze the situation than cry about it. I mean it must be a reason why you’re screaming at me or looking at me crazy. I’m not going back at it with any dude. I like peace. I’ll be quiet.

Like I said. I’m not an emotional chick.

I was though for a quick second. After my mother died, but that quickly got old and tired fast.

Anyway.

I fell in love last year.

Now usually. It doesn’t take much for me to walk away. One lie. I’m out the door. One bad conversation I wont let you back in. Oh no. You better not curse at me, I’m going in.

You ever seen as pretty a sailor as me? My mouth yo!! Its reckless. I’m still asking for deliverance.

But I fell in love.

He was quick to show me one of his many ‘girlfriends’ he kept on deck. He was not going to leave the street life because his family came first. He smoked. A lot. Bending corners to find trees to climb so he could get lifted. And here I am passenger seat.

Who wants that perfect love story anyway. Cliche!

Yes. I was in love.

As he regaled tales of near death. I saw him retaliate. He didn’t have to tell me what part he played. I see.

Clearly.

I see people clearly.

Sometimes I just don’t want to believe what I am seeing.

But. The normally rude gyal, ride or die chick that D boys seem to love had to let go of the man that made her heart skip a beat.

She fell in love with the bad guy, the bad guy.

Once his vehicle got shot up on the passenger side no less I had to go. Not because of his life. I used to be ride or die. Now I’m ride and live. But I would a stayed. If only he had come to church with me.

Now though. I realize.

Some can fake the funk. They can be so much more interested in fleshly pursuits, and the things the eyes can see and not the things the spirit causes one to feel and not have a heart for chasing after God!

I was blessed with a life of darkness. That way. I know how to recognize. The difference between what my fleshly eyes can see and my spirit causes me to feel. See I knew a lot of men in my old religion would be running through women in the congregation, smoking weed, in the streets. For as long as they could until they got found out and kicked out. So I know what deceivers look like.

Just like I’ve seen a lot of concerts. I enjoy being entertained, I’ve watched many of my favorite artists work a crowd, sing a song. I mean if you’ve never heard Jill Scott sing live you’ll never know how her voice can never be measured in CD’s or TV performances. I mean her sound is so BIG! But I know the difference. I get carried away in worship just one look at a worshipper, worshipping in spirit and truth.

And since I need God. I need like minded people. Regardless to where they at on Sunday morning. The heart is not always defined by actions, but definitely by words. So just wait on it. A person will show you. Be willing to wait and be able to hear.

So after church today as I am walking to work I see a guy. His whole neck is tatted. Teardrops underneath his eye. Tattoo in the middle of his forehead. He just wants a hug. I give him one. Because really sometimes all we need is a little love. He began to say, thank God. God is good. He woke me up this morning! What? Is the street dude giving God glory?

Here it is. I’ve been like Samuel. Looking at the outer things. Like when Samuel was looking for a Saul replacement. No. It’s not always what it appears to be!

I let my bad guy potential to go good go because I thought I was supposed to have a church guy. No.

No more fallacious thinking!

Whether he goes to church every Sunday two and three services a Sunday. Or he doesn’t go at all the only thing that matters is his heart for God. He will display that in the things he reports, speaks on and shares with the rest of the world.

As He grows his worship will change. And all it takes sometimes for a good man to grow up is an even greater woman!

Yes.

Who wants that perfect love story anyway? There is no perfection on this earth as long as our flesh is imperfect. There will be some things I won’t like and some things I will have to accept about someone I am going to be head over heels in love with.

They say the third time is the charm.

This time I fall in love. I swear the next time he’ll be my friend.

Yes. I want a friend. My best friend. Who has made Christ his best friend first so he knows how to treat me, the best way he can.

Yes. No more deceit. No ones interested in being lied to in unnecessary falsehood and pretense.

It’s time to stop doing the same thing expecting different results. They call that insanity! And the only insanity I am interested in is the one that will help me achieve abs of steel and buns that don’t quit, with my man Shaun T.

Yes, for real. Its time for sanity!

Its time for real love.

I Love You. That is all…

What happens when you’re hurting and you don’t know how to deal with the pain?

You substitute the pain for things, and then addictions are created.

I know.

I used to be addicted to things, people, substances, etc…

Because.

See I didn’t want to talk about what hurt me. I thought if I smiled hard enough or if I laughed loud enough, or if I lived more than enough no one would be able to see how much I was hurting so it was almost like it didn’t exist.

Yes. I knew pretense.

So. One of my favorite people at my gig tried to take their life. My heart was crushed. We worshipped together. I was at work the day pastor had a sunrise service. She was uneasy. So we thanked Jesus together. We shouted hallelujah in unison. We said glory together.

Then someone talks about the life of addiction this person had. Everyone has an addiction. Some people are able to hide theirs, or society accepts some habits. Overeaters get caught with waists that exceed the span of their hips and chest. But no one labels them. But the way legs get chopped off because of diabetes, that in itself causes lives to be changed forever. Smokers fill chest with unspeakable things. Then eventually lungs get contracted never able to take a full breath again, as oxygen becomes the new addiction. A necessity actually. Men and women addicted to love, relationships, or even sex go through lover after lover discarding them like toilet paper not thinking about consequences. But if you saw like I have seen the disdain that an HIV patient is cared for in facilities you might think twice about sharing your body so freely.

Yes.

Pain causes us to make decisions that others can’t quite understand. But its never been our job to judge.

Just love.

Sometimes all we need is a little love. Sometimes all we need is to show a little affection and attention to a hurting heart. Because no matter how much people add to their lives to make them feel better its only love that can bring the dead back to life.

So to all my hurting folk. Love. Is the most precious thing you can have. No meal, no person, no substance will give you what our creator can give us. A perfect unyielding and non compromising love. A love that holds no bounds and never stops. It never gives up it never runs out. It is always and forever. It has been before we were even born.

See. I know what its like to want an out. To run to substances. To love and leave. To never love at all. To over eat. Purge. Eat again.

Then I found a relationship with Jesus. Not just going to church. But a real relationship. Where He shows me what I ask Him to let me see. We commune. We fellowship. I read the word that He said he is. The Word was with God. The way the truth and the light.

Light to path my darkness, love to mend broken beats once heartless, truth to shake the lies and take away all guesses.

So now I have a stop button on my fork. I’ve been shown grace and mercy so I am praying for strength to keep me so I will only share my body with the man God chooses for me, after he marries me. And smoke has not filled my lungs in almost two years.

So today. I take pain. I replace it with love. And I show it and shower it on everyone who settles in around me.

Maybe I can’t be superwoman. I can’t save anyone. That is my Saviors job. But I can, and I will continue to show love!

Run Radiance Run. No More!!

I been running all my life!

Running from myself. Like Moses. Running from my past. Running from my future. Running from Radiance.

I preferred the chick they called Rae-Rae or Rae for short. The gurl who hits the dance floor at ten and won’t get off until four in the morning and when we leave that spot ready to go to the next place that don’t close until seven.

My turn up was real!

I had an ID that looked almost like me and as the bouncers would snicker knowing that picture wasn’t mine they would let me in anyway.

They wanted the pretty faces on deck. Maybe they would get the chance to shoot their shot.

Anyway. I ran. I thought I was having fun. I thought drinking like a fish and not really feeling the effects was the thing to do Friday and Saturdays and maybe a house full of spades on Thursday or Sunday. I can’t really remember. I just know we partied.

Grandma said she did too. My father did too.

They ran too.

My grandmothers dreams were so vivid she would be able to describe caskets of soon to be dead loved ones. My daddy could preach a church down. Still they ran.

My daddy ran so hard he died alone in his basement apartment at the age of 39.

Yes. I know about running, because really you can’t outrun God.

So a couple of weeks ago I discovered who I am to God. I had a gist. I kinda knew. I didn’t want to believe.

So when it was confirmed I was sick, literally. I cried uncontrollably. Like God why would you choose me?

I already knew based on what a deacon at the mother church told me. Her words were confirmed on that day.

I mean how could the party girl, with the sinful lustful nature, and the bad attitude, and the slick words forever on the tip of her tongue, and the heartbreaker, and the adulterer, and the liar, thief, etc be used by God?

I guess He really does take the foolish things to confound the wise.

Yes. My sacrifice truly is a contrite and broken heart. I’ve never really cared too much for people. But I’ve always been crazy in love with God.

Just had a poor way of showing it.

So I’m sitting on the train. A man with an unkempt beard, disheveled clothing and teeth that looked stained from some type of addiction sits two seats away from me. He smiles. I wait. He opens his mouth.

“How long you been waiting for me?”

I look. I pause. I listen. I hear.

I say, “No. The question is how long has He been waiting for you?”

He looks at me taken aback and shakes his head. Too long he says.

I knew.

I know these days people aren’t really attracted to me. I don’t carry the weights I used to. I don’t carry lust, fornication, adultery, etc. The way I used to. I guess men see a sense of self worth. I am being kept by my Savior.

I figured he must have been attracted to something that his heart truly longed for. I carry God with me daily. My relationship isn’t at it’s best but its better than its ever been.

He then began telling me about all the signs he had been asking God to send Him. We talked the way I always talk to someone I feel like God is leading me to talk to that look as if they are struggling with some type of addiction.

See. When I see the man on my grandmothers back porch on the verge of getting “dopesick” I offer food. Knowing he won’t eat until he gets a fix, so still he knows he can get a plate from me if I’m on the stove. Or if he needs a midnight snack.

I might be used to speak to the ones who knew their calling but left it behind to pick up a pipe to smoke their dreams through. I can’t see the bad in people. That’s been my downfall in men and friends. I tend to only see their potential to become. So I encourage and motivate. I push, poke and prod.

I really want everyone to strive for greatness.

I mean aint no fun, if the homies can’t have none.

So yes. I ran.

I know who I once was. I once loved, nurtured, cooked and took care of men who served up peoples misery on a platter. I struggled with my own addictions.

All addictions don’t debilitate us. I’m greedy. I like to eat. For example.

I can’t understand, but I can empathize.

So. While I was sitting around feeling unworthy. God was quick to remind me that sometimes the people I will talk to, encourage and motivate are people that other folk might no look twice at. Other folk might clutch a purse, or allow fear to grip their heart when seeing a person lost to a substance that they really just want deliverance from.

The things I’ve seen, and experienced made me not really ever succumb to fear. I’ve seen God come through for me on too many occasions. He honors obedience.

So. Many are called. Few are chosen. Maybe some like what glitters that looks like gold. Maybe some, like Samuel when looking for a king to replace Saul and overlooked David, only look at what the outside appearance presents them.

So.

I am now thankful. God gave me some gifts. He sees fit to use me. Sometimes to encourage. Sometimes to uplift. Sometimes telling me things so that I can pray for people that are hurting.

He loves us. He uses us. Only if we are willing. And since. I do not want to end up like my father, I walk into my calling. To be who God has called me to be.

Will you answer yours?