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It’s been a few weeks since my last post, probably because I have been procrastinating, knowing what God wanted me to talk about. In the past month I have been on the receiving end of three separate verbal attacks that would rattle anyone’s feathers. Yet at the same time, I’ve listened to sermons and read books that have helped me navigate the broad range of emotions associated with them and it’s given me plenty of opportunities to practice responding vs. reacting. When I asked God how He wanted me to unpack this topic, I understood that I had some deep digging to do in my own history and the consequential impacts of “word curses”. This first required me to acknowledge that there have been many times in my life that I have cut and hurt people deeply with my own harsh words. Looking back, besides my previously discussed issues with codependency, I think that since I felt silenced for so long because of the secret sexual abuse I endured for many years as a child, that I felt the only way that I could protect or defend myself was to say things to make people back off when I felt threatened and that I needed to demand respect when I felt controlled, cheated, or offended. I certainly wore my Mama Bear title as a badge of honor if anyone dared to mess with my children. While many would say that is justified, or question what’s wrong with that? Isn’t that the way of the world? I see now that having the courage to have real grownup conversations about difficult issues or articulating my needs can happen without a “snap back” or reactionary approach. Ephesians 4:29 says Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. Well, my bonus dad “Pop Pop”, whom I loved dearly was a gifted orator and I remember as a child that he used to make the pages of my writing assignments bleed with notes and corrections to teach me to be an eloquent speaker and effective writer. I totally appreciate that now, but what he was also great at was cursing you out and making you feel very small with not a single word or profanity. If you cheated him or someone he loved, there was no holding back. The more intelligent he made it sound the deeper the knife dug in the wound of his words. I witnessed that be very effective for him so learned to master that and I used to be very proud of being the same way. If someone wronged me, my mom used to say, “Oh no, did they get a Kim letter?” because I could always express myself in writing better than speaking my feelings out loud. But out of your mouth flows the issues of life, right? Matthew 15:11 says What goes into someone’s mouth (eating with unwashed hands) does not defile them, but what comes out of their mouth is from their heart and THAT is what defiles them. For out of the heart come evil thoughts – murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, and slander. I believe that if we took the time to hear people’s pain through their words instead of quickly becoming offended by them and learn to give grace and mercy to push through difficult conversations, this so called “cancel culture” probably wouldn’t exist. However, we have learned as a society to not even listen to what people are saying, we just hear buzz words that make us mad and then wait for our turn to get our jab in. This has ultimately created a society of people that are so easily offended that we pick a side of an issue and whoever doesn’t agree is the devil. The political climate is certainly proof of that. While I don’t know how to fix that, I do know that it makes people afraid or hesitant to speak the truth in fear of being banned socially, or ex communicated by loved ones, friends, or colleagues and that should make us all sad. Anyway, so when I promised God that my obedience was unconditional, you had to know that I would be tested. There are 7 men in my life that have abused me (sexually, verbally, emotionally). Over the years God has prompted me to address my painful experiences with each of them in different ways that gave me closure, except for one and guess what? Yep, last week God woke me up in the middle of the night and told me that I needed to reach out to him and set him free because it was a matter of life or death. Until the dream that I had that night, showing me the impact that my extension of forgiveness could have, I would have had no desire to revisit that old wound, but I immediately woke up to write him a letter that I sent via email early the next morning. I didn’t have time to overthink it, nor debate with God why I shouldn’t have to… I just did it. It felt great to hit the send button and for maybe 15 whole minutes I felt free, until he read it and called me back. I was so hopeful that it was going to be a healthy, Godly conversation but it was the opposite. Not only did he deny the abuse. He told me I was a liar trying to benefit from making him look bad. Then he taunted me to make me say out loud what he did to me, so he could tear me down again. Of course, this is every sexual abuse victim’s nightmare, except the weapon that I had was that God told me to do this! God told me that he needed to hear this NOW! So that meant that God would protect my spirit from the words that were spoken to me afterwards and his reaction was not my responsibility. The rest was between him and God. I also realized then that God had already put this message on my heart before that happened, so I knew that there was a bigger lesson in it for me. Therefore, if the only thing that resulted from the conversation was to strip the power of the words that he spoke to me while forcing himself on me some 40+ years ago, then it was worth the effort. While I can’t repeat the words that he spoke to me during that act on this platform, know that those 6 words that have haunted me my entire adolescent and adult life, were repeated back to him in our brief conversation and God cleansed me of the trauma associated with them. That was the reward for my obedience, and I pray that as I was released from the impact of his words that I have also been released from the words that I have spoken that have hurt others over the years. Sidebar: If someone reading this has ever been cut by my words, I apologize. The three big takeaways for me in all of this were: First, I was abused for approximately 16 years of my life by various people but maybe only five specific incidents have stayed with me. Why? That is because of what they said to me while committing the act. An experience can be forgotten, but words are spoken into your spirit and if you receive it, it can define your perception of yourself, which informs your actions/decisions superseding your identity in Christ. I believe that this revelation explains how and why the hateful words of racism have kept black and brown people in bondage since the establishment of this nation. Second, God showed me that it wasn’t him that I was fighting or resisting, it was a spirit. A spirit of oppression and a spirit of division. “Kim, that is what I want you to share with people”, God said. “You are all being tossed in the wind day after day, conversation after conversation, social media post after social media post by words, none of which have the power to control or define you, unless you allow it”. I don’t know about you but that was hard to hear because I have personally always been comfortable blaming my harsh words and reactions on the other person, aka the offender. The truth is that I’ve spent 40 something years GIVING his words and many others power over me. Ouch! I also realize that everyone is literally doing the best they can with what life has thrown at them and we all get caught in the crossfire. Don’t get me wrong, some shoot ON PURPOSE, but even they have a story that still concludes that hurting people hurt other people. Maybe instead of fighting over elections, gun laws and abortion rights, we should take the opportunity every day to practice mercy and be kind to those who aren’t kind to us. Luke 6:28 says bless and show kindness to those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. Finally, Pastor Michael Todd of Transformation Church in Tulsa, OK is teaching a series called Crazier Faith and one of his messages was called Faith Like a Farmer. We mostly relate the concept of seed, time, and harvest to finances. However, his message was not limited to that but explained all the ways we plant seeds. The timing of his message while going through these current challenges made me think about the seeds that we sow with our words both good and bad. Not exclusively words spoken at or about other people, but also what we speak over ourselves in the form of complaining, or out of doubt or fear. Do you ever catch yourself saying “I’m broke” or “I’m dumb”? Well STOP! Proverbs 18:21 says the tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit. I’ve decided that I must be more conscious and accountable for every word that comes from my mouth and that my words must bear good fruit, not rotten fruit, not just because it’s the right thing to do, but because I want to walk in the freedom and the blessings that are promised to me through my obedience. I guess that’s why writing this was so hard, because the clock starts now with this public commitment to change. We’ll see how it goes… Until next time…

Like many people, I’d like to know where I’m headed before I make the next move toward whatever that THING is. It’s a rational and very practical expectation, right? Well in this season of my life, I’m having to learn to take steps, okay leaps of faith into things that I know nothing about. In my last post, I talked about the disappointment that comes with disobedience. However, what does radical obedience look like in a world where being a control freak is not only the norm but is glorified in many cases? “Take control of your life”, they say. “Do what you want, how you want to, when you want it!” That’s what winning looks like, right? Not so much! Not only did life break me down after decades of trying to live by those rules, but the devil has used people from my past to discourage me based on the mistakes of my past, intending for condemnation to keep me stuck in a state of counting losses or regrets, rather than counting my blessings. Once I decided to move to Charlotte, I believed and still do believe that this was my journey into the promised land. This was my exodus, with the parting of the red sea and all. Leaving my bad memories and some toxic relationships far behind to be washed away in the sea. That all sounds great, doesn’t it? While that IS what happened to an extent, I forgot to keep reading to get to the part where the story said that the freedom or deliverance that the Israelites were pursuing, wasn’t a place or a destination but rather a change in how they thought or functioned. I distinctly remember feeling like I was going through hell for the months leading up to my departure as God revealed to me that He was not going to allow me to take my baggage with me and I was in the middle of a purge. #PackLight Last Christmas, I received an apple watch as a gift, but I didn’t really start to use it until I moved. Little by little, I learned features of the watch, which included giving me directions to my destination through the GPS that was functioning from my phone. It was a very pleasant surprise the first time that I felt the vibration on my wrist as I approached the stop sign in my neighborhood to tell me which way to go next. I hadn’t made it out of the neighborhood before God said that He would use that tool to teach me to let myself be led without having to see the full map. “Sure, no problem. That’s easy! I can do that,” I thought. However, I don’t think I made it 5 miles before I needed to peak at my phone to see how much further I needed to travel, what my ETA was, as well as the route I would be taking. Had I been back in Virginia where I knew the area well, perhaps I wouldn’t have needed to default back to the map on my phone, but in this completely new surrounding I relied fully on my GPS to get everywhere I needed to go. I’ve been here 6 months and it’s still a challenge at times, but I am improving. God used that exercise as well as reminding me of the one-time, years ago that my ex-husband and I took Latin ballroom dance lessons to show me that this was an area of weakness. I had a formal dance background, but he did not. As the instructor taught us the steps and the cadence of what we were to do, I got it down in my head, waited for him to hold me as instructed and I was ready to execute the moves flawlessly to the beat of the music. Let’s just say that it didn’t go great. When he forgot the steps, he just freestyled, and I was embarrassed that we didn’t look like all the other couples in the room. To make a long story short, I learned that day that neither of us were going to be on Dancing with the Stars anytime soon, but most importantly that I had trouble allowing myself to be led. That didn’t just apply to partner dancing, but in life. I was content to do the moves as I was taught and hoped that the other person would do the same. However, the point was that if I knew the moves, we could spontaneously move about with a strong lead to guide me with cues as to what to do next just before it was time to execute. That’s where the magic happens. Well, clearly there was no magic being made, however years later when I was asked to dance at a wedding reception with a man who was a strong lead, I had no clue what we were doing, but I followed his lead, and we had a blast. God said, “this is what if feels like to let me lead you.” I never forgot that feeling. Fast forward to now in this season full of transition and I’m trying to stay obedient in what I am to do next in my career, relationships, ministry, parenting, etc. From the outside looking in, it may look like I’m getting the job done on all fronts, but on the inside, I feel very unstable, and I fell into the trap of analysis paralysis, meaning that I may not take a step at all in fear that it’s going to be the wrong one and that there will be a consequence for my disobedience. Ugh… I’ve prayed and prayed and for whatever reason I still felt stuck, until I had a dream. Just a few nights ago, I dreamt that I was trying to see the big picture of something ahead of me, but I was standing near a body of water and a steppingstone raised up out of the water for me to step on. Once I took that one step, then another one appeared ahead, BUT after I took the one step forward the stone that was behind me disappeared back into the water. I woke up in the middle of the night too tired to sit up and write down what I saw in my dream but awake enough to ask God to explain what that meant. His answer was simple. “I am keeping you on a need-to-know basis and I just want you to take the next right step. Nothing more, nothing less.” That really stuck with me. When I woke up the next morning, I started looking for images online that may represent what I saw, but then I was reminded of the part that the last stone that I stepped past disappeared as soon as my foot lifted off it. So, I went back again for clarity. Again, He simply answered, “Where I’m taking you, you can’t look back.” Sheesh, okay I was starting to get it. I realized that my tendency to keep looking backwards at how things happened in my past (good or bad) to inform my future was not only unnecessary, but it has and would continue to hold me back and lead me astray. Ouch! God said, “When I asked you if you were ready to get out the boat, that meant that you needed to keep your eyes on Me for your direction, safety, provision and comfort, Peter!” And that’s all I have to say about THAT! So now what? It’s probably time for me to just shut up and pay attention so I don’t miss my next right move. It doesn’t have to be a huge walk on water type of move. It just means to be open to what’s ahead looking like nothing I’ve ever seen or done in the past and still be willing to say “Yes” even if I don’t know what the outcome is going to be. I’m not going to lie, that is scary for me, but what I do know is that God has always proven to be gracious and merciful when I mess up and He is consistent in exceeding my expectations when I do it His way and not my own. We’re on this journey together, so let’s see how it goes! G.P.S. God's Positioning System Until next time…

Like many people, I often struggle with disappointment, so I try hard to do what is asked or expected of me to avoid being a disappointment to others, both personally and professionally. I’ve learned however, that while it seems admirable, my desire (sometimes obsession) to meet or exceed the world’s expectations of me is not only exhausting but also makes me create unrealistic expectations of myself. This has created a cycle of disappointment even within myself that leads me to beat myself up, time and time again, limiting my capacity to give my best in the areas that I should be focused on. Maybe that’s the root cause of perfectionism and possibly procrastination too, which I’ve also struggled with more often than I care to admit. So much so that depending on the THING that I’m supposed to do, I may make an excuse not to try or I may do it, simply going through the motions to say that I did it, but with little confidence that it will meet the need or expectation of whatever the THING is supposed to accomplish. Does that sound vaguely familiar to anyone, or is it just me? Well assuming it’s only for me, I decided to break down the experiences, patterns and assumptions that have led me to this painful cycle of dysfunction, so humor me. Here’s what I know. My parents separated when I was very young. I don’t even have memories of ever living in the same house with my father. My mother worked very hard to make sure I had everything I needed and a lot of what I wanted, without much help financially, physically, or emotionally from him. However, as a “Daddyless Daughter”, I developed a desperate need/desire to have a relationship with him that looking back now, he just couldn’t give to me. While it’s appropriate to want a relationship with an absent parent, there is a tendency to create a fantasy-based relationship that is impossible to achieve. I have forgiven him for the failures that his brokenness caused, however the overarching belief system that I created my reality around was that I could depend on him to be absent, silent, and financially undependable except for Christmas and birthday gifts. I also grew to expect him to be annoyed by anything that I said that reminded him of my mother, which in itself, taught me not to ask for what I needed. While he didn’t show me appropriate love when he was with me, he would tell everyone else how proud he was of me, which was very confusing. I recently completed a bible study that dug deep into the benefits of obedience in your relationship with God. Having always been somewhat of a shamelessly rebellious person, the word “obedience” felt like a curse word to me. I mean don’t the ones who live on the edge and break some rules have more fun? That’s what I thought until the life consequences of those actions/decisions caught up with me, with much longer effects than the impulsive fun I had in the moment. What does this have to do with disappointment? It has EVERYTHING to do with it, so bear with me. It is God’s desire to have a real tangible, personal relationship with each one of us. That is a relationship like you have with a parent, a spouse, your children, etc. that is so real that you can talk to Him and rely on Him daily as if He was someone that is sitting right next to you at the breakfast table. It’s not the practice of religion, although many people confuse the two, which is why so many people are turned off by religion in general. Yet, since our foundational relationships that teach us how to love, trust and be in relationship with others begins with how we experience our parents and caregivers, as babies and young children, it makes sense that as we get older, we base our perception and ability to trust and be in relationship with God on how we perceive our parents. In my case, the holes in the relationship with my father limited my capacity to experience God in many critical ways. Just as psychologists say that you grow up to marry people that remind you of your mother or your father because they are your first love, it is the same concept with God. That can be good or pose a host of challenges, making it more difficult to have healthy adult relationships among other things. All of this to say that my fractured relationship with my earthly father taught me to expect to be disappointed and that if something good were to happen, it’s a great surprise that rolls around once a year like Santa Claus. That is the limiting belief that has informed my experiences and relationships for most of my adult life. It not only taught me that men couldn’t be trusted to be faithful or providers of safety or financial security, but it also taught me to learn to do everything for myself, because if I wanted it done right and/or when I needed it, I could only rely on me, myself, and I. I’m sure you can imagine how that negatively impacted my romantic relationships as well as overextending myself as a mother to be everything for everyone, which isn’t healthy. The unfortunate and painful reality is that this mindset made me become someone who was impatient, bossy, and so independent that I couldn't ask for help and trust that the need would be provided or that I’d be comfortable with the timetable and/or the outcome. I’m much better than I used to be, but I am still a work in progress. As for my relationship with God, it created a barrier that I still fight to breakthrough to be able to ask for what I need and trust that He loves me enough to provide my every need and the desires of my heart. He will also block the things that are not His best for me, including allowing me to live with the consequences of self-imposed missteps, which brings me back to ta-da… DISAPPOINTMENT! I never knew that disappointment is directly related to obedience. Everyone may not be a parent, but we’ve all been a child, so I’ll explain it that way. Remember when you were little, and your mother or father told you repeatedly not to jump on the couch or run through the house? Did you do it anyway? Then what happened? You can likely touch the scar that you still have from either hitting your head on the coffee table or ran into something with a sharp edge. They weren’t telling you not to run or jump to be mean, they were telling you that because they knew what was best for you and they loved you enough to want to protect you from things you did not know. But that’s something that we often must learn the hard way and sometimes we never fully learn. It’s the same with God. If we don’t trust that He loves us so much that he doesn’t want us to get hurt and He wants to give His best to us, when the time is right, then we will live a life in a perpetual cycle of disappointment when things don’t turn out how and when we want them to. Here is a beautifully painful example of how that played out in my life recently. After my separation, I knew that the next chapter in my life would be relocating to Charlotte, North Carolina to serve in ministry. During the months in quarantine, I began looking for homes in the area that I wanted to live in. I wanted to be close to the group of women that I’d be working with, and I knew I wanted to live on the water. My children and I have had a long tradition of making vision boards on New Year’s Day each year, so when I found the perfect location and a new development that was affordable for me to maintain on my own, I cut out pictures and pasted exactly what I wanted on my board. I called the agent, we made a few trips down to look at home sites and to choose finishes for the new build and everything seemed great. Then they suddenly stopped building and didn’t release the lot that I had hoped to build on in the timeframe that I anticipated would be ideal for me to move. I checked with the agent every month. Then months turned into a year and there was no release date in site. Meanwhile, my youngest son’s senior year of high school was quickly approaching, and I had decided that if virtual school was going to continue that there shouldn’t be a problem moving in the fall instead of in the late spring/summer of the following year, and we only needed to stay in Virginia full time until football season ended. We discussed it and he appeared to agree with that plan. At the end of August, I reached out to the agent for my usual follow up and he mentioned to me that the same model that I wanted had just finished construction and was on the market to sell immediately and he suggested that I contact the office about pursuing that option. It was the same house but the next street over and it was still a lake front lot with fewer obstacles to have access to the water than the lot I was planning to buy. Perfect, that’s it! This had to be my dream come true. I don’t have to wait any longer, I thought. The agent selling that property was a doll, her name was Angie. She did a walkthrough with me via FaceTime, and it was exactly what I wanted to do in the new build, with some extras for a lower price. The stars had aligned so THIS MUST BE GOD, right? We had finally made some progress in the divorce settlement negotiations so I put my heart on the line and called my ex to ask for his support to sell the house immediately instead of waiting until our son graduated the next summer, so I wouldn’t miss out on this opportunity. There was someone else interested in buying the house, but Angie gave me the first right of refusal, so I had a very short period to give an answer and sign the contract. After thinking about it overnight, he agreed, however, that “Yes” came with conditions that would cheat me out of my equal share to our marital assets. At the time I thought it was worth it, so I verbally agreed without fully investigating or understanding what he was expecting. Thank goodness for attorneys that saved me from myself in that regard, but back to the story. This meant that per the terms of the contract, which did NOT include a contingency for the sale of my home, I had 60 days to sell my house and be ready to close. I needed the money from the sale of the marital home to close on my new home. I had the money in the bank for the $15,000 earnest money deposit and 60 days to sell in this super-hot market. What could possibly go wrong? So, I pulled the trigger and began the rush to the finish line. I lined up an agent to list and sell our house. With the help of my son and his friends, and a relative who had connections to do minor repairs around the house, in less than 10 days the house was on the market. It was exhausting both physically and emotionally. My son and I both cried through the process, not because we were cleaning and packing up, but because our life of memories as a family were being packed up, divided, sold, or donated. In my desperation to get my happy ending, I encouraged him as we pushed through. We had open houses, and last-minute appointments to show the house, you know the drill. The house had to stay clean all the time and it was a lot of pressure. If I hadn’t already felt homeless before with the every-other-week custodial living arrangement, I really felt it then, but I kept my eye on the prize, which was a home to call my own in the city that I knew I was called to serve. However, day after day, week after week, I experienced disappointment after disappointment. We set a record. It turned out that we were the only house in our area that hadn’t sold the first weekend it hit the market. Our agent suggested to paint this, lower the price on that, etc. but it didn't feel right. As my own closing date quickly approached, I grew more and more weary. Once I was within the 30 day period for my own closing deadline, I heard from God loud and clear! "When this home sells, it is going to be 100% clear that no one else gets the credit but ME!" At that point it was my job to surrender and trust HIM through this process whatever that looked like. I’m not going to lie; I didn’t do that with much grace. I cried, screamed, cursed, and blamed everything and everyone for the house not selling on time. Then my ex decided to pull the house from the market and wait until the spring to list it again to ensure that we got what it was worth. He wasn't wrong and since it required both of our permission to sell, I had no choice but to let it go. I was devastated. Not only would I lose that house (which seemed to be my last opportunity in that neighborhood) but I would also lose the $15,000 EMD, and the moving company deposit among other things. That was the biggest financial blow that I had experienced in my life. Then my youngest son confessed that he really wasn’t ready to leave, and he didn’t have the heart to tell me that he changed his mind after the plan was in motion. He made the decision to go along with the plan because he didn’t want to disappoint me, and I didn’t notice  that it was hurting him. I knew then that there was no recovering from this, but my child’s needs had to be more important that what I wanted, so I let it go and grieved the many losses over the next month. I expected to be living with my mother indefinitely until I saved up enough to start over. Did I mention that I had also resigned from my full-time position at work and had already hired and began training my replacement and was planning to find a new job in Charlotte once I moved? Yep, I did that too, so I had until March 1st, 2021, to find a new full-time job and close on a house that I didn’t have a deposit for anymore. I hope you’re feeling my pain!!! Thanksgiving rolled around and I thought I had let it all go. I knew God blocked it for a reason but was not yet aware of the full extend of why. But with the disappointment chip on my shoulder, I chalked it up to yet another thing that I couldn’t have and that “I must not have deserved it, or God must not love me enough to…”, just as I always said to myself when my father didn’t show up for me or give me what I needed as a child. Throughout the next few months God had challenged me to give money sacrificially to strangers whether they appeared to be in need or not, to test my level of obedience and I did. The limited money that I had left was being given away in BIG CHUNKS, but He brought me back to a more sincere heart of gratitude through those experiences. I learned that giving in obedience (whether my time, talent or money) when I didn’t know the outcome was so fulfilling for me, that I made a new commitment to live in obedience, whatever the cost. I soon stopped the pity party and the blame game and decided to wait on God. In a conversation with my pastor, she asked me had I prayed about the decision to buy that house before I pulled the trigger? Huh, why did I have to do that? I knew what I wanted, I had the means, why did I need to pray about it? She said, “well I guess that was a costly lesson, but I sense that you had to have that experience to learn what you know now.” So, I finally fully surrendered and accepted that the loss was of my own doing. Then something happened, the house had been off the market for more than a month, and someone contacted our agent and asked to buy. The buyer was an agent herself, so she was willing to cut the commission percentage to get the numbers to what we needed to be a win/win. We would close the day after Christmas, and she’d allow us to rent back until the end of January so we could wait until after the holidays to pack up and move out. Both boys were home, so we had time to have one last holiday in that home and say goodbye to what was the James’s as we knew it. Within a few days of the closing date my ex decided he was ready to sign with all the terms that I requested, and I didn’t have to sell my soul to the devil to do it. Within a 3-day period, the house was sold, my divorce papers were signed, and I had the money in the bank to pay off EVERY DEBT I HAD. That was an act of obedience too and I went into 2021 not owing a penny to anyone. Although it was much less than I had hoped, I had money in the bank. It wasn’t what I thought the end of 2020 would look like, but it felt good to have a clean slate after the year from hell. Little did I know that God would use my obedience, to bless me. Just 26 days later, I received the email from the court that my divorce was final and within 48 hours of that, Angie the Lennar agent texted me and said that she just received word that my exact house was getting prepped to go on the market. Who does that? The house was only one year old. However, I was afraid to hope after all that I had lost. I shared the news with my pastor, and she said, “if it came to you unsolicited it could be THE ONE”. This time I prayed as I proceeded with caution and contacted the seller’s agent and asked about buying before it went on the market. She responded immediately and without a fuss, they agreed to sell to me but I needed to see it in person to make sure it was what I wanted before signing anything. The next day my mother and I jumped in the car and drove to Charlotte. We met for the walkthrough with my pastor and aunt that already lived in the area, and it was AMAZING! When we pulled up, it was a house on a hill. She had already fenced in the backyard for my dog, it was one of the best lake-front lots in the whole neighborhood. She cleared the trees to improve the view of the lake, installed all the ceiling fans and upgraded light fixtures, as well as bought all the appliances. That was all money that I wouldn't have had to spend had I started from scratch. There was nothing for me to do but move in. We took pictures and videos and I already felt like it was home. Overwhelmed with emotion, I left a check for the deposit with the agent and she agreed to start the paperwork. Before we left, when I had a moment alone, I stood at the top of the hill by the front door looking out in front of me. I found myself looking down on the house that I lost just three months prior. I was in tears as I asked, “God, why a house on a hill where I have to look at that other house everyday?” He simply answered, “So you will always be reminded that what I have for you is always better than what you want for yourself!” The tears continued to flow as I learned an extremely important lesson. The process was easy, and I closed on February 26th, 2021, just three days before my job status changed. God gave me my dream home that is EXCEEDINGLY, ABUNDANTLY ABOVE ALL I COULD EVER ASK OR THINK. Ephesians 3:20. I rented back to the seller for a few months since she wasn’t expecting to sell so quickly, and it gave me time to get my son graduated and off to college with no disruption. Oh yeah, and they covered my closing costs for saving them money in prepping and listing publicly so I got back the money that I lost on the first house! Yep, God restores! God told me that this home was a gift to me and that I would use it to host people in need of respite and that they would experience His presence here and it has already proven to do just that. Every day when I walk out front, I am reminded of what He told me, and I am grateful for the journey, including the disappointments that I experienced to teach me these very important lessons. God won't bless a mess and He gives us things that are purposeful for His glory. I had to tie up all the loose ends prior to rece this blessing. I also learned that if it's a rush, it's usually NOT GOD! I am writing this post sitting on my screened porch with my dog looking out onto Lake Wylie. THIS IS HOW I KNOW THAT OBEDIENCE OR THE LACK THEREOF, IS DIRECTLY RELATED TO MANY OF THE DISAPPOINTMENTS THAT WE EXPERIENCE IN LIFE! What are you saying Kim, with this super long post? Consider the possibility that the disappointments that you experience are birthed from your inability to trust that God’s timing and his outcomes are always best and that your decision/actions and sometimes the motives behind your desires are just not in your best interest. It is so much better to let them go and let yourself be led to the right thing in the right time, by the ONE who is the giver of ALL THINGS! P.S. The rewards to your obedience in the little things that you think are insignificant, as well as the big things show up in the form of safety from catastrophe, provision for your every need and the manifestation of your wildest dreams everyday. We just have to pay attention! Are you willing to walk in obedience to see what God has for you? Until next time…

After all the time that I’ve spent in the past year standing firmly on my racial soap box, I was recently challenged with a question. “What if the husband that God has chosen just for you was not tall, DARK and handsome?” Hmmm… Now that I am starting over, including the possibility of future relationships, I have had to start thinking about what I want in a partner. I’ve had many conversations with friends and in every attribute that I have described, I never had a certain look in mind, but it never dawned on me for a moment that my future soulmate could be someone other than a black man. Dating outside of my race was something that I honestly never considered, but when she posed the question, it required me to examine my belief system on that subject. In the moment, of course my answer was and still is, “I’d welcome whomever God has chosen for me…” but there was a silent BUT! After that conversation, I woke up the next day with that question still on my mind and my spirit was increasingly agitated. In full transparency, it may seem silly that I gave it this much mental/emotional attention, but I struggled for several days and I took it as an opportunity for personal growth since God wouldn’t seem to let me let it go. So, I asked God to give me clarity and here’s what He said. “How can I use you to be a voice and an example for racial reconciliation if you still have areas of prejudice in your own heart?” Ouch! “But I’m not prejudice. I treat people from all races well,” I thought. Then several memories were revealed to me in ways that made it easy to understand. First let’s be clear, there is a difference between having prejudices/biases and being racist. Racism is defined as the scientifically false belief that groups of humans possess different behavioral traits corresponding to physical appearance and can be divided based on the superiority of one race over another. Therefore, to be racist, you must be in a position where superiority can be perceived and/or imposed as power over another person of a different race or ethnic group. However, prejudice is defined as a preconceived opinion that is not based on reason or actual experience or the development of biases based on such preconceived opinions. A few days later, I saw a sermon by Bishop TD Jakes that talked about an issue that tends to hold us back, particularly in the black community described as “faulty belief systems”. I’ve had many conversations with non-black people where I’ve shared racist experiences and I was instantly offended when they would ask, “but how do you know that was racist?” In most cases my response was, when you’ve experienced it enough there are things you just “know”. I still believe that to be true, but regarding prejudices and biases that we all have, I decided to try to trace back where I got the information that formed the beliefs that I have lived by thus far. I also recall, recently watching an episode of the Red Table Talk, where the ladies brought up the tension between the black community and the Asian community. I was able to watch objectively because I didn’t grow up in urban/minority communities where there were many Asian business owners, so to an extent I was blissfully ignorant of the extent of the tensions between the two communities. That is a whole different conversation, but it equipped me to examine my own experiences and belief systems in a new way to see where I could have my own blind spots. Where are you going with this, Kim? Just land the plane. Okay fine!!!!! As far back as I can remember, I have had a problem with interracial couples. I have interracial couples in my family, and I love them all, but in theory and particularly as it relates to black men with white women, my initial default reaction has always been to assume that he must not respect or value black women, or that black women weren’t beautiful enough for him to have chosen a partner outside of his race. I’m sure that admission is making many people’s blood boil because on one side, there are a million and five “Amens” and on the other side, a million more of “I can only imagine”. But let’s take a deep dive into that theory. Where did that belief come from? It’s been a hot topic within the black community for as long as I’ve been alive. The standard of beauty that has been glorified in our society and used to devalue women of color since the beginning of time as we know it, is that thin, white women with blond hair and blue eyes is the standard that everyone else is judged against. True or false? If you believe it is false, then why is the beauty industry a multi-billion-dollar industry, made mostly from the sales of wigs, weaves, extensions, dye, chemical straightening products and cosmetics to make women have long silky hair down to their butts, with colored contacts and so much make up that they are often unrecognizable without their full face on? Believe it or not, I’ve had strangers touch my hair to ask if it was real because the new norm is store bought hair. I have never cut my hair shorter than shoulder length because I’ve been in relationships that I was told I couldn’t cut my hair, as if having long hair is what defined my beauty or lack thereof. How ridiculous is that? I’m not knocking the creativity that has transpired out of the variety of products out there to enhance women’s beauty, but as a baseline it is a REAL THING that informs the belief systems of many women of color. We have been taught that white women are stealing the good black men and that’s what I grew up believing. Generation after generation, women of color have had to hold it down for their families, often as single mothers, masking the pain of generational oppression, their childhood wounds and personal heartbreak ALONE. Which unfortunately comes at a great cost. We have historically sacrificed our own emotional needs and gentleness to be tough and get the job done for everyone else. The consequence is that we think is being strong is often perceived to be aggressive, unapproachable, and controlling, which is a turn off to some black men. Malcolm X wrote: “The most disrespected person in America is the black woman. The most unprotected person in America is the black woman. The most neglected person in America is the black woman.” Statistically, we have been disproportionately abused (sexually, physically, and emotionally) and disregarded more than any other demographic in the country. As sad as that is, my personal experience finds that statement to be true for me, but we all know that “our truth, is not always THE TRUTH”. THE TRUTH is that these three factors (although all based in truth) have formed my belief system that for a black male or female to choose to date or marry outside of his/her race that it is in some way a rejection of his/her identity. That has been so deeply engrained in my mind that I have sadly had conversations with my son’s, believing that if they chose a mate that wasn’t black that it must mean that they don’t love or respect me. I finally hear how ridiculous that sounds and I understand that it is rooted in a spirit of rejection. Growing up in a predominately white community and school, I wasn’t attractive to boys/men of other races. I was always the one black girl that was everyone’s friend because I wasn’t thin, blonde, or blue eyed. I was also raped in high school by a white male that told me that, that’s what I deserved. Therefore, the combination of what I was taught, and those experiences fed that demon telling me that the belief system about the authenticity of interracial relationships must also be true. Well although I never shared that belief out loud, today I am publicly apologizing and acknowledging that I no longer believe that to be true. The bottom line is that if two people’s spirits are attracted to one another, fully aware of their differences both physically and socially, and they are prepared for the criticism that comes with it, who am I to judge their relationships or the motives behind their connection. Furthermore, why would I possibly reject the man of my dreams if he is not in a tall, DARK, and handsome package? It is my hope that I have successfully demonstrated the deconstruction of a faulty belief system. If you examine a belief system that starts with, “They say…” you need to tell “They” to SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP, then dig into God’s word, the source of THE TRUTH because there is nothing new under the sun. The takeaways for today are: Black people, if we want things to change for ourselves and future generations, we have work to do on our own faulty belief systems to open ourselves to the possibility of full racial reconciliation. We ALL need to stop making assumptions about other people’s motives; and ALL OF US, black, white, brown, and purple need to check ourselves on the things that we have conveniently called preferences that are secretly forms of prejudice. Our relationships, how we do our jobs and how we show up in the world for each other are all at stake. Until next time…

I can’t say that as a society, we were not highly emotional beings prior to 2020, but I think we all can agree that the events of 2020 brought us to our collective breaking points of fear, sadness, and downright rage. In the spring of 2019, God released me from my 18+ year marriage. I had an overwhelming amount of support from family and friends, yet and still both my physical and mental health were continuing to be in a virtual free fall. For the next several months, I couldn’t recall a day that I had any peace. I wore the fake smile while navigating the changes that accompanied living without my kids every other week, as well as the uncertainty of my future, which made me an emotional mine field. Thankfully, in the fall of 2019, I found a Christian Counselor that brought some much-needed clarity to my attention. “Good morning Kimberly. So why are we here?” she asked. I took a deep breath and sighed into a 40-minute monologue about how horrible my life was. The rant continued and it seemed as though I was building a compelling case for immediate conviction of all wrongdoers in my life, no questions asked. She patiently and compassionately listened with all the appropriate, oohs and ahs until DING… I was abruptly interrupted by a timer indicating it was time for her next patient. “Wait, now what?” She responded, “Let me pray for you before you go, and I want you to come back with a goal. Why are we here? What do you want to change in your life?” With a pile of snotty tissues balled up in my clenched fist, I was escorted out of the room. I spent the next 7 days contemplating her questions before my next visit. “Good morning Kimberly. How have you been since our last visit?” “Anger”, I blurted out. “I want to deal with my anger issues.” “Well, it sounds like you’re time in the past week has been productive. Let’s get started.” This time I knew I was on the clock both literally and figuratively, motivated to make some real progress because I was finally sick and tired of being sick and tired. Towards the end of our conversation, she handed me a packet. It included a list of feelings and characteristics that she wanted me to read. “Read them now?” I asked. “Yes, and please circle or highlight the things that you identify with and we’ll talk about it next week,” she said. Looking at the items on the list, she clearly knew what I was going to say before I could tell her myself. I guess the messy writing was all over the wall. “What do you know about codependency?” she asked. I fumbled my way through a shallow explanation of what I thought it meant. Then she responded, “I’d like you to consider the possibility that you are dealing with codependent tendencies and it would be great if you could read the first few chapters of “Codependency No More” before our next session. I took the packet home and went through a six-page list of tendencies. Well Damn… the pages were bleeding with the amount of neon orange ink enveloping them. I think I may have highlighted 190 of 200-line items. “Oh Lord, here we go”, I thought. Although THIS time, instead of dropping an exorbitant number of F bombs, I turned to the ONLY one who could unravel this complicated web and release me from the chord around my neck that had kept me in a chokehold throughout most of my life. “Jesus is it ME? Am I the cause of all these problems or are the problems causing me to be this way?” I questioned. Either way, I decided I couldn’t live like this anymore. This launched an accelerated growth period to tackle the source of my deep seeded anger, both in and out of the therapy office. “Caroline?” I asked in our next visit, “after doing this exercise and reading that book, I honestly don’t know if I know ANYONE who is NOT codependent. Now what?” Codependency is defined as a behavioral condition in a relationship where one person enables another person's addiction, poor mental health, immaturity, irresponsibility, or under-achievement. Among the core characteristics of codependency is an excessive reliance on other people for approval and a sense of identity. Per that list, I was literally the poster child for codependency, but how does that relate to my anger issues? Whether you are in relationship with an alcoholic, drug addict, workaholic, the disabled, mentally ill, the list goes on… over time, when you spend extended periods of time caring for, covering up and making excuses for, accepting abuse from, and then pretending it’s a non issue, makes the enabler grow extremely resentful and bitter, manifesting itself in ways that cause pain both for you and those around you. Do you see where I’m going with this? We spent the next six weeks unraveling the complicated issues that brought me to this conclusion. Then in record time, she kicked me out of treatment as I was able to put the many negative experiences and relationships throughout my life in perspective, and I was given the tools to process my emotions in a healthier way. I learned to communicate my needs and feelings in ways that were more productive and a lot less reactive, although I’m still a work in progress. Thank goodness for God’s perfect timing because who knew that 2020 would pile on even more *&%$ to have to process without losing my mind. For the next several months even prior to the pandemic, it felt like every week we were hearing about another shooting of an unarmed black person that continued to build a subconscious level of despair and in my codependency, I tried to shelter my kids from the pain of the world around us. We too learned to cope by pressing things down and avoided talking about current events because we needed to be able to get through the next day, but little did we know, the perfect storm was brewing. I was dealing with the divorce, my first child away at college, my youngest child only with me every other week and dealing with the repercussions of their feelings and the frustrations of virtual school. Having come to the realization that my time in my current position was coming to an end, while leading my team at work through a pandemic, afraid and on lockdown for the foreseeable future was scary to say the least. As I did my best to console colleagues and friends who lost loved ones, I was alternating weeks in and out of my mother’s home due to the custody arrangement, leaving me feeling homeless, unsettled, and terrified that I could possibly put her more at risk of catching COVID-19. Then Ahmaud Arbery was killed, followed by Brianna Taylor and finally THE VIDEO that rocked us to our core, as we watched a man die, saying he couldn’t breathe, while crying out to his deceased mother. Lord, how much more could we take? It was as if hearing those words spoken out loud, “I can’t breathe” with that man’s knee on his neck, finally gave me permission to acknowledge the rage that had been brewing under the surface for far too long, totally unrelated to my personal family issues, but rather because of the reality that it hurts to be a black person in America. A few days after the incident, in a conversation within a mixed group of people, I blurted out, “Are you kidding me? When are we going to stop pretending like everything is fine when it’s not? Does anyone care about what’s going on? No one has a single word to say about all of these people that are dying?” It got silent. I burst into tears I was furious resentful that many of them were privileged to get to decide whether or not to care about what was happening when some of us couldn't escape it. That became a turning point for me. Pandora had come out of the box and I could not put it back in, however amid my pain, God made it clear that if I was going to emote out loud, it had to be productive and lead to a resolution. It was then that I learned about righteous anger vs. unrighteous or selfish anger. Ephesians 4:26 says to be angry but do not sin. I learned that righteous anger doesn’t seek to hurt or retaliate, although we should be angry about issues like abuse, murder, oppression & injustice, however unrighteous anger is prideful and when we don’t get the outcome we want, it can become explosive, brewing, or embittered, which all lead to sin. That made this even more complicated for me, because in full transparency, I was experiencing both. While abuse, murder, injustices, and oppression were all worthy of my anger, I didn’t just want it to stop, I wanted to see people pay because for hundreds of years we’ve experienced and/or witnessed atrocities committed against black and brown people with little to no justice and we're expected to "get over it". I knew that I couldn't stay in that place, however. I had headaches and knots in my stomach all day, every day for weeks on end. I had a short fuse and was triggered constantly by the sea of rebuttals on the news, on social media and listening to people around me justifying the actions of these police officers and vigilantes. Enough was enough, so I shut it all down. I began fasting 21 days at a time, not only with my diet, but with no TV or social media. I was only going to have conversations with real people and if the conversation couldn’t be productive, I wouldn’t engage in it. I lost some people that I thought were friends, and I build some new friendships with those who were willing to help me understand all perspectives on the issues at hand, and who would stay in the tough conversations until we were all able to find common ground. This was not easy by any stretch of the imagination, but I did it and I think we all grew in the process. Although many of the circumstances have not changed. I have much more peace now. My divorce is final. My children are both in college and I’m starting this next chapter on my own, in a new state. People are still fighting over vaccinations, mask mandates and whether COVID-19 is real. Racially motivated crimes are still taking place, there is still a spirit of division and hatred between races and cultural backgrounds, and the debates continue as to whether it is appropriate to teach our children the whole truth, both in schools and in our homes. BUT GOD gave me grace, mercy, patience, and self-discipline to stay the course. Can we stop going at each other’s throats? Whether it be through cancel culture, heated arguments and spewing insults at whole groups of people because they didn’t experience life the way we did, we're not getting better, we're still getting worse. Fighting the good fight means staying in the conversation in a respectful way that changes people’s hearts. Although changing policies are necessary to break down the systems that widely oppress groups of people, none of the things that bring us heartache are going to change unless hearts are changed and bridges to reconciliation are built, which are only possible by showing love. I spent 3 months studying forgiveness ALONE and it has made a tremendous impact on my life and relationships. Learning that anger and resentment kills our ability to be productive, I made the commitment to do the work on myself and allow others to experience me in a more humble, calm, and transparent way and I do my best to extend the grace and mercy that I want and need for myself. If I can do it. You can too! We ALL have to take responsibility in reconciling what's broken in our relationships, within our families and within our society as a whole. It is a SACRIFICE for the greater good, but I believe it is worth it! Footnote: 32 of the major mental health disorders are rooted in anger. Many physical disorders are also rooted in anger. Headaches, digestion problems, constipation, insomnia, high blood pressure, skin problems, heart attack and strokes are all impacted by anger.

Shortly after my meltdown, I decided that to do my part in creating the change that I need to see, I would engage in any race related "hard conversations", no matter how uncomfortable with people from different racial backgrounds. I also wanted my two sons to see what that effort looked like, as well as learn how to engage in the process themselves. Just one week later, a friend through ministry and her family invited my family to join a zoom call to start the conversation and it turned out to be a great experience for us all. This is what effort looks like on both sides of this conversation. It is approximately 45 minutes, although it went much longer. This segment addressed their questions about policing, education and how they could help?

In early June of 2020, three months into the pandemic and just days after George Floyd was murdered before our eyes, I shared this very raw and emotional outburst on social media. In the coming days/weeks, I will share the work I have done over the past year to be the change that I wanted to see, both in myself and in the lives of those around me. I hope you will come along with me on this journey on the first of many topics and I pray that it inspires you to challenge yourself in ways that are thought provoking and life changing. What if... What if the destruction that you are witnessing in the streets are an opposite and equal visual representation of the destruction of the countless souls impacted by the deeply rooted spirits of hatred, bigotry and oppression? This IS the reality that has hindered and, in some cases, ruined the lives, hopes and dreams of black and brown people in this country still today. If that were true, would you do anything differently? This isn’t just about justice for George Floyd or any of the lives taken recently that were caught on video but still received no convictions. For every act of violence and death that you have seen or read about and chose to ignore or justify, there are thousands, maybe millions more that you did not see, mourn over or add a hashtag for justice to be served. We (black people) see it on a regular basis, but we keep the conversations amongst ourselves because you don’t want to hear it. Likely, because if you did, that would mean someone would have to take responsibility for changing it. So, to preserve your comfort level, our brains have become programmed to endure trauma, just SUCK UP AND DEAL and put on a happy face! Well, how’s that working for you now that it is affecting the economy, the flow of traffic and interrupting your social media feeds? Even though the vandalism and many of these fires are proving to have been planted and started by extreme racist groups, including cops in disguise to reinforce the narrative and bait the Civil War that white supremacists have been waiting for, THIS BLACK WOMAN IS TIRED of sucking it up and dealing for the sake of your comfort. This system is BROKEN, it’s always been broken, and you can’t heal what you don’t allow yourself to acknowledge and feel! God is doing open heart surgery on all of us, and these are the shattered bones, bloody guts and failing organs of 400 years of justified demonic oppression over the human lives and spirits CREATED BY THE SAME GOD THAT CREATED YOU! Does my life, my story, my pain matter enough to you now? Will you care more about restoring what’s broken in our hearts more than what’s broken in a store window? Do the lives and safety of my sons matter more than how the status quo benefits your stock portfolio? Although inconvenient, things can be replaced by insurance, but not the lost lives that we’ve become accustomed to dismissing with “thoughts and prayers”. Would you be willing to give up your guns if it would save the life of another black man at the hands of racism? "But I felt threatened! I need to defend myself and my family!" That excuse only works for you, but not me. That’s the buzz phrase, go to excuse because that’s what has always been acceptable for you. Why do you feed a white mass murderer a bottle of water like he's a baby, drive him through a Burger King for a bite to eat on the way to the precinct and think, “poor guy... he must be mentally ill to do something like that”? “Pray for him, he needs help,” you’d say, BUT you'll shoot at first sight and then dig for a criminal record for any excuse to justify why it’s okay to say they must have had a good reason, when he/she looks like me? Everyone says don’t make it political, but IT IS a political issue, a spiritual issue and a human rights issue, so intricately intertwined that it’s impossible to separate. How do we stand on the Word of God to protest the deaths of the unborn, yet are comfortable justifying the right to keep guns, JUST IN CASE you feel threatened enough to take someone else’s life to protect your own? I know how, by the abuse of the word “innocent”. Do you pray for those lost lives or do you post a prayer emoji, while passing judgement and attack their character to make yourselves appear innocent? What if we spent more of our resources investing in ministering to brokenhearted women, faced with that difficult decision for reasons unknown, so they’ll choose life at the heart level and not make it a political issue? How many of you are willing to adopt that baby if it doesn’t have blonde hair and blue eyes, that fit in perfectly in your family portrait? I’ve witnessed families travel to several other countries shopping for babies through adoption boutiques but won’t adopt the black and brown children right here that need homes. Those kids growing up in “the system” are the first ones you'll judge and devalue because they are a drain on the economy. I often hear, “even if the gun laws changed the bad guys are going to find a way to get them anyway, SO I’M KEEPING MY GUN”. Fine, then shouldn’t that same rule apply to hospitals and clinics that perform abortions safely? The bottom line is there is a different set of moral standards and priorities between the two debates that divides us far more than by racial lines. So, when someone asks me, “how can you say you love Jesus and vote for someone who doesn’t oppose abortion rights”? I respond with, “because of my faith I won’t get one, however I cannot ignore, or support the continuation of the known systems of oppression, including gun laws that continue to kill people that look like me, and knowingly stack the cards against me EVERYDAY”. Further, I am sick and tired of being guilt tripped into choosing to ban abortion rights and defend your rights to tote your guns and sport your confederate flags proudly, over my right to exist and feel safe and thrive so you can decide whether I am a GOOD ENOUGH CHRISTIAN! To avoid being labeled an angry black woman means having to keep my mouth shut, put on a happy face and keep playing the game that I know I can’t win because my family’s livelihood depends on not ruffling any feathers. Is that fair? What if this is THE PERFECT STORM? What if a black man had to be elected as the president of the United States so that racism would come out of the closet and rear its ugly head? What if the man that succeeded him had to be elected so the boldness of that demonic existence would have permission to rise up and show itself loud and proud so EVERYONE who is not black or brown finally sees things for what they are? I have been watching you bury your head in the sand, make excuses and say pray for our president and judge not lest ye be judged every time he says something that fuels the flames of hatred and division, but when it was the black guy, evil overtook the land through a fake birth certificate with a wife, whom you literally compared to an ape, as you celebrated when a dummy was paraded in the streets with his neck in a noose. Is that the same level of respect you want me to uphold? As tragic and scary and painful as it’s been... what if COVID-19 had to happen right now for people to be forced to stay stuck in their homes and wear masks that restrict their ability to breathe comfortably and speak freely for the purpose of getting a tiny glimpse of what it feels like to be black in America? How would it feel holding your breath for a lifetime in fear every day, not knowing if it’s the day the invisible monster of racism will strike AGAIN and finally be the time that means life or death for you or someone you love, just like the invisible monster of COVID-19? You can choose to take your mask off! We can’t remove what too often feels like the suffocating existence of our blackness. I am blessed that I can work from home and maintain our needs without financial disruption, but yet and still, it’s my family and close friends that are dying at a disproportional rate from COVID because we work the jobs that you all don’t want to have to do. We work the jobs that pay less and don’t have telework options, knowing that if we don’t work our children don’t eat! It literally feels like we are living THE PURGE! We’ve applied for the same PPP Loan to save our small businesses, but YOU WILL GET IT BEFORE ME because of the quietly executed racial profiling that occurs in banks every freaking day. It’s just hidden in fine print and loopholes that only the privileged have access to influence. It’s okay! There’s nothing left anyway because the banks profited more from distributing the money to multimillion-dollar companies that don’t need it, robbing those who literally need it to survive. Is that not a more sophisticated form of looting? Many of you HAVE experienced poverty or hardship enough to understand that grind, but you still are given the benefit of the doubt in your workplaces and everywhere you go when you are having less than a cheerful day! Your acts of anger are justified but mine are not. You will still be paid more for that same job than me, or people that look like me. Yet you can still part your lips to say, “It’s your imagination. That’s in the past, why can’t you get over it already?” We get the good ole “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” speech because that’s what makes America Great. Please tell me when exactly was AMERICA so great that we need to fight, steal, and kill our brother or sister to GET BACK TO THIS PROSPEROUS AND EUPHORIC TIME IN AMERICAN HISTORY? Is it the part that we were hanging from trees in nooses? Is it the part that we were hunted by dogs and mutilated for trying to flee enslavement? Maybe it was when we were beaten for drinking from your water fountain or having the nerve to sit in the front of the bus? Maybe it’s the stench of the burnt grass from the crosses that were burned in our ancestor’s yards in my mother’s lifetime, right here in Virginia? Or possibly the adrenaline rush generated from dodging the bullets that were shot through the windows of my mother’s childhood home because they had no right to own real estate in YOUR part of town? Perhaps it’s the part where the wide variety of our complexions in our family line reminds us daily (to the point that we fight and discriminate amongst ourselves) that it was our slave master that raped our great-great grandmother, fathering the children that created that LIGHT SKINNED AND PRETTY HAIR GENE? In my family, his name is WILLIAM PRESGRAVES and his buried in Middleburg, VA just 30 miles from my home. That’s the root of the legacy that started the curse of sexual abuse in my family, of which the impacts of 16 years of my own abuse ruined my ability to have a healthy marriage and a happy family! That’s the root of what makes me fight for my sanity and my worthiness EVERYDAY of my life. It’s ironic that people hear my story and judge the people who abused me, without understanding how that seed was planted in them in the first place. Does that part matter? That’s the part that your silence impacts as you continue to judge blackness as a whole, when our legacy is quietly, yet not so quietly displayed through the dysfunction that we inherited, as you so casually call us thugs and bitches! How are black men supposed to learn to be loving, strong and dependable in our families when they were ripped away from us to make you more money? When violence is the only language we know how to speak because you beat the shit out of us if we stepped out of line or forgot to say, “Yes sir Massa”? When we were inbred because it was cheaper to make us procreate with our own siblings, so you had more labor at no additional cost? For some, sex became mechanical and transactional to keep your human capital at an all-time high, never caring about the long-term consequence of devaluing the gift of emotional intimacy. Yet for others, it’s been an exertion of power that to this day destroys lives, families and communities and in many cases used to “KEEP US IN OUR PLACE”. That’s what I was told as I was being raped by a white jock at Lake Braddock High School in the late 1980’s. “All black bitches deserve to get f*$@d!” That’s what he told me! (Sidebar: He sent me a Facebook Friend Request just a few years ago and is probably reading this post. That’s a whole different conversation.) Yet, when I told my teacher and a counselor in that mostly white school, they did NOTHING about it, reinforcing his words. That’s what I deserved, I guess, resulting in a lifetime of accepting mistreatment and acting out my frustration in unhealthy ways. Would those words stay with you and instinctively resurface every time anyone in positions of authority say something to justify treating you any kind of way? Ironically, my sons attend the same school and thirty years later, I’m still telling them to turn the other cheek and be the bigger person as their photos and record-breaking banners hang in the trophy boxes, while kids call them niggers in the halls or at their athletic events. You don’t have to snatch the hood from your child’s head (even when it’s cold outside) in fear that it may make him look like a threat. You don’t have to risk hurting your relationship with your kids, accepting that they believe you’re just mean because you light into them for making a stupid teenage mistake, fearing it will cost them their lives. So, you don’t get to tell me how to feel or react when I am triggered by the continued trauma! Would you trade a single day in my shoes to understand my pain at THIS level? This isn’t an Escape Room game that is over when you figure out the answer to the clue! If your God makes this okay, it’s not the same God that I have committed my life to serving because HE promises to heal every broken place in my heart and allow me to be a light of hope for others. Have you twisted the WORD OF GOD to justify your privilege and superiority? I double dog dare you to ask God to search your heart and reveal and heal everything that allows you to choose party and wealth over humanity and justice. My sense is that both Democrat and Republican affiliations need to go away because the lines are too blurred between the extent of right and wrong and the definition of freedom and prosperity. I love people of all races, backgrounds, religions, sexual orientations, gender identifications because that is what God teaches me to do and I honor God’s will over man’s every day of the week. JESUS, I BEG YOU TO TAKE THE WHEEL! You brought us here for such a time as this and I do know that ALL THINGS WORK TOGETHER for the good of them that love the Lord and are called according to HIS purpose, not ours! Use me Lord to speak words that soften the hearts of the battered and bruised, the bitter, the entitled, the self-righteous, the ignorant, the greedy, the power hungry, the hopeless, the arrogant, the oppressed and the oppressors and everything in between. Lord let me be the bridge for conversations that inspire healing and unity in Jesus Name I pray. AMEN