Happy New Year! May it be full of joy, peace, love and blessings for you and your family!
The question often asked at the end of the year is ‘what is your New Year resolution?’ Over the years I was ready with an answer (aren’t I always) because the New Year was a magical eraser that would blot out the missed goals and shortcomings that I had long left for dead in the outgoing year. Continue reading
I ducked as the amber medicine bottle whizzed past my head with such force the sound came after it had passed, like a jet fighter plane. I heard it find its unintended target as it shattered against the wall and vitamins scattered everywhere as if they were being shot out of the wall. OMG!! What if I didn’t duck!! He threw that right AT me! Wait….did that just happen? I stood numb….still…..dumb….in shock with a glimmer of hope that this was a bad dream that I would wake from. As I started thawing from the numbness, fear, shock and adrenaline all brewed together into a brew of deep dark anger….did that mutha just throw my prenatal vitamins at me? The question now becomes a bold declaration…I KNOW that mutha#$%&%^* didn’t just throw ANYTHING at me. One of us isn’t getting out of here Ta-DAY!
retreat and then poses the question….Would YOU marry YOU?As the First Lady you get called on to attend meetings. There is the meeting of the Women’s Ministry at your church, 
Ministers and Pastors Wives Meetings, District Women’s Meetings, State Women’s Ministry meetings….you get the point. If there is the word WOMEN in any ministry meeting title, there is a good chance that you are invited, expected or guilt-ed into attending.
Now don’t get me wrong, there have been some meetings that set a purpose, met it and I walked away blessed to have been there. But there have been some where I sat at a table, pen in hand and envisioned what their facial expressions would be as I imagine myself jumping on the table and screaming “WHY ARE WE HERE AND WHAT DOES THE SHINGLES HAVE TO DO WITH IT???”
I went to one of these meetings in the winter and because of how far it was my sister came along with me. It was cold outside and early on a Saturday so I jumped up, made sure the house was in order – who are we kidding, it was Saturday and there were four kids to ask ‘didjaeet (did you eat)??’ I put on my jeans, some knee boots, a decent sweater while grabbing my coffee saying goodbye and going out the door. I met-up with my dear sister (who has always been my roadie, no matter where I went once I got a drivers license, she would jump in the car and go with me to go to the moon) and we jumped on the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
When we got to the church we descended down the stairs to join those already around the table and to my horror….many of the women were in their ‘Sunday go meeting’ outfits. Here’s me…jeans, boots and a leather jacket while these seasoned sisters were in full ‘church wear’ at 10 o’clock in the morning….a Saturday morning.
At first I was mortified in a quiet way. You KNOW there were icy looks, not loving sisters but judgmental biddies (that’s what I saw as they assessed my Saturday attire) but as I sat there I thought….they don’t know me! Then I started wondering ‘why am I here’ I giggled as I imagined them calling each other asking “did you see what she had on?!” That’s when I knew….my First Lady hat didn’t fit. Maybe it wasn’t that the hat didn’t fit, maybe I didn’t fit the mold that people had placed on the hat. Whatever!! I’m here now, dragged my sister out in the cold, paid tolls on the Pennsylvania turnpike and got up early on a Saturday to be here so I participated in the meeting, took my ill-fitting Hat (in their eyes of course) and went home. That was one meeting that I never attended again but I still laugh at the looks peering at me from under the First Lady’s Brims.
Looking over my life and the lives of family, friends and others I’ve worked with in PLM (now My Tattered Brim) low self-esteem is a an ugly, choking common thread that is in the root of many unwise decisions. Who am I kidding flat out bad decisions and bad choices. Continue reading
A friend shared this meme with me and I could not contain my laughter. As a former ‘first lady’ there is the ever present ‘church’ hat that seems to be an unspoken requirement of the wardrobe. The truth is, I love the hats (shoes, handbags….etc.) and would joke that I wanted a hat so big that it had to be assembled by a team of hat builders when I got to my destination.
Then I looked at the caption and got all deep on this Friday afternoon. Am I am so busy looking at what appears to be a big blessing for the other person that I can’t focus on, identify or recognize my own blessings, opportunities and gifts?
What if the perceived beautiful abundant blessing and this hat is really a burden? It may be heavy giving her neck cramps and back spasms. You know it’s hot under there and transporting that thing must be a pain.
No thanks, she can keep it, I’ll focus on my own blessings, opportunities and gifts as I boldly, unapologetically and confidently rejoice in them as I look at the world from under my brim.
If it’s abuse…..why do they stay?? IF it is…..How many times have you heard this question?? I’ve heard people say, “that’s a shame….why do/did you stay in an abusive relationship?” or “Why doesn’t she just leave?” Sometimes the question is meant as an honest inquiry. However, often it is spoken with an undercurrent of hostility or disbelief that things must not be as bad as they seem. This attitude sends a message to anyone who stays in abusive relationships are somehow to blame for their abuse. Continue reading
I NEVER thought I would see the day when I was in a domestic violence situation. I am smarter than that. I know what
domestic violence is….I’ve seen it in my childhood and vowed it would never happen to me. No man will ever do to me, the things that I’ve seen my Mother endure. Never. Continue reading
Christmas is….Family, Friends, Hope, Joy, Memories, Peace and Love.
The holiday season is one of the few times that brings out the best & worst in people simultaneously. The news is full of negativity, there are protests, hunger, abuse….but for one season of time we long to have ‘peace on earth and goodwill towards men’. This is the one time of year that we would hope to be around the love of friends….but most of all the love of Family.
I’ve come to terms with the fact that I have a huge family that I really don’t know. They hail from both my Mother’s and Father’s sides of the family. I am even blessed to have an extended family my step-mom’s side that has embraced me with loving arms. Of all the love, the family that I barely know used to bother me, would even create some emotional chaos. Watching he families on TV get together for holidays, sharing in the special events of one another’s lives, coming together in rough time….it made me see family the way I wanted it to be. But that’s television…. Continue reading
A universal comment that I find when having an honest conversation with people about a relationship with God is that they consider church folk – phoney. The sad part is that in some cases they are right. Have we become so heavenly minded that we are of no earthly good? Did we forget that Christ met us at our needs no matter where it was – the crack house, whore house, another woman’s/man’s house, the Hungry-house, the Poor House ….you get the point. The challenge is even more strenuous if there is a title in front of your name. Does the Reverend, Minister, First Lady, Pastor….(whichever the title) wear a Halo or a Hoodie?
One of the most scariest times of my life was when I went into the prison. I know that I am to reach out to Domestic Abuse survivors no matter where they are so I went. Yup I said it, I was nervous, scared. Don’t judge me and toss scripture, I know God hasn’t given us a spirit of fear but hearing those doors slam shut sent a shiver up my human spine, so I prayed. As I went in with my Bible and my little handouts, I prayed that God would have His way even while walking through the glass doors that lead into the lobby. As I entered, my heals clacked and echoed off of the lockers and high ceiling filling the emptiness as I approached the round glass encased security-desk. The air even felt empty as if people walk through those doors and give up all hope, compassion, dreams, ideas….just empty acceptance of the fate behind those bars.
I present my ID, get my locker and go into the smaller waiting room where empty eyes of visiting relatives, friends and community programs glance over. I stop being so nervous as I look at how many broken families are represented in those 10-15 people sitting here. What are we doing for them? Praise dancing on Sunday and passing judgment on Monday? God are we so heavenly minded that we are really not doing any earthly good. Have we as salt, lost our savor?
The iron bars closing at the door where I just walked through, interrupt my thoughts and the sound made my heart race. HERE WE GO!! I watch waaaaaayyyy to much television and my imagination is very active (hey—don’t judge) because as that gate slammed shut sealing my ‘out’ and the other iron monster began to open up our access into the hallway of the prison, I started to see shanks, riots and SWAT all at once (in my head of course). I’m careful to walk down the hallway smack dab in the middle (even though I am the only one in it) so that the camera can see me….hmmmm what if they went to lunch and there is no one there. The bars behind me have closed and I’ve walked what felt like a football field down the hall to the next gate which opens as soon as I get there (whew…there IS someone watching on the camera).
The classroom door is open and I go in and shut it behind me and then I pray again. I feel guilty for being afraid and for having a stereotype of the sisters that are coming into the room. I ask God to give me the words to say and that His daughters are brought closer to HIM. I am so hyper alert at this point that when the 300 pound sister with the very short haircut grunted “I like your sweater” I almost threw it at her and ran out the door. (Ok, make that face as you read this if you want to, I told you I have a vivid imagination fueled by television). I didn’t even see faces, just heard voices and began to hyperventilate a little. I kept repeating prayer in my head and as the Spirit calmed me and my system started to come back to normal, I began to focused on the women that were coming in the door (asking God to forgive me for judging and making assumptions) I realized that I knew some of these women! We made small talk and I am super conscious and careful to just show love and compassion but being honest like…’you KNOW that you have better things to do other than being in here’. Now I am more at ease and we had an awesome time discussing God’s word.
The preconceived ideas of what ‘they’ would be like had me shook but God sent me there to see that these women were just like me…. daughters, sisters, mothers and most of all HIS. I didn’t see criminals, I saw women who were behind tons of steel but were more free and had more of a free praise and Love for God than the Halo wearing church folks on the outside.
Yes, we can say ‘whatsup?!’ when someone says ‘Hey gurl’ and know what is going on with music, language, artists…etc. and wear a hoodie without ‘losing our salvation’ or being ‘worldly’. In whatever we do, we can’t be one way on Sunday and another on 
Monday….don’t wear your Halo on Sunday and Hoodie on Monday making you so heavenly minded that you are no earthly good…or seen as phoney. Being consistent and comfortable in who we are allows for effective ministry that is not judgmental yet honest, meets people where they are (financially, educationally, mentally) and is most certainly to HIS glory. By the way…the woman who complimented my sweater (let’s call her Kate)….the one that made me nervous. Was the greatest joy to have met. As a group we shared in break-throughs, we wrestled with God’s Word together and we celebrated Kate’s release armed with a stronger relationship with God, the sword to guide her,and the decision that she would not return. It’s been about 7 years since my first prison experience and praise God….Kate has not returned and still praises God from under her hoodie.
Under Her Brim 