Tag: empowerment

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New Again

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And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he said unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful. Revelation 21:5

I seem to have gone through more than my fair share of trials lately. Ever felt that way? Then you wonder what it is you’re doing wrong. I’ve been asking, seeking and knocking (more like banging, LOL!) to no avail. Until it occurred to me – things keep happening to me. There’s something passive about that, as if I had nothing to do with it, therefore nothing can be done to prevent it. That doesn’t wash with me. I feel there is always something that can be done. Then another word came to mind. Allow. It gave my participation, or lack of, a name. You’ve allowed these things to happen to you, Loria. What? How? Where? For the answer, I went back to the beginning, when I re-set my life.

For me, everything began anew with my divorce. That’s when I began to live. Sounds strange, right? But it’s true. At that time, I stopped letting things happen to me and took more control over my life, the lives of my children and our future. It was a glorious rebellion, a hostile takeover – it was not given to me, I took it by force. For years, I heard Oprah sing the praises of keeping a personal journal. I did not heed her at the time because I was too busy. And I thought my life was fine, which it was because I never took the time to closely examine it. A clue was given me, that something was wrong, when I went to see a dietitian about my eating habits, ostensibly, to lose weight. But that session became so much more when she made a simple request: Describe to me what your day is like. 

I found myself in tears as I gave her the details of my life. Crying, for I knew not what. I was embarrassed. I never went back. But I recognized that feeling. I felt overwhelmed, like my life was not my own. She summed it up thusly: Wow – sounds like your life is kinda on auto pilot and you’re just hanging on for the ride! She was so right. My life was happening in a way and at a pace that left me running just to keep up. I had lost control.

Which brings me to my recent revelation. I asked myself, Loria, what is different about your life now? How did it get so out of control, again? Why are you letting things just happen to you instead of taking more of an active role? This time, the answer came quickly: journaling. Keeping a journal made the difference then and has already improved things of late. My journal is more than a record of what happened during my days, it’s a diary of my prayers. When I look back over them, I see that I have all that I ever asked God for during that transitional period in my life. Prayer is like an arrow – it gives you focus and aim to better enable you to hit your target. It’s like providing direction for your life. When I didn’t write it down, I became aimless and I fell for far too many distractions.

Moreover, writing less often removed the desire for me to write altogether. So, I found myself in a cycle once again of life happening and me just keeping up with the shenanigans. Writing the vision makes it plain – that the reader may see and run with it! Write that vision, Loria! Write it down – this is too important. Otherwise, you’ll continue to tread water and spin your wheels while you wait for something better to happen. It’s not gonna if you don’t direct it. God’s plan for me is good – to give me a future and a hope, an expected end. I’ve said this before and now I write to remind myself: write the ending you expect! Write that vision, girl! What you want out of life, claim it. I was waiting on God and becoming more frustrated but as usual, turns out he was waiting on me.

I’ve got my head twisted on straight now and I’m ready to re-enter the fight. Thank you, Lord, for giving me back my drive and ambition. Thank you for mistakes I’ve made along the way. I will not regret them because they are part of the process and necessary lessons to get me where I want to go. And, get me to where YOU want me to be so that you can bless me even more. I’m not afraid anymore for my future, I know you’re already there and you’ve made provision. I’m excited to see the things you have in store for me. You’re the God of better, of more than enough. You make all things new, AGAIN. Let’s get it – LET’S GO!

Be blessed,

Loria

For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie:

though it tarries, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not delay. Habakkuk 2:3

 

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Faith that Conquers

14670609_543510342509270_3669100487200880762_nOne of my favorite songs that has sustained me for years is FAITH, by Vanessa Bell Armstrong. Oh, there are many imitators, perpetrators and duplicators, but no other version can compare to her rendition. This recording is poor in quality but her voice transcends and more than makes up for it, somewhat reminiscent of Aretha Franklin. I rise with every swell of her voice, my spirits lift with her riffs until it culminates in:

Faith, that sees the invisible!
Faith, that expects the incredible!
Faith that can conquer anything!

Oh, to have THAT kind of faith! I long for it and reach for the faith of our fathers, which kept them during dark times. Faith to see my future, afar off, as Abraham did, even though it had yet to be realized. To believe God and count it to Him for righteousness, believing in His promises, that He would do just what He said. Not that I have attained, but I’m getting there. And I realize now, that it would have taken some time for Abram to get there, too. He may have stumbled at times, taken a few bad turns, or even wondered if God had forgotten the promise or if possible, reneged. When Abram found himself waiting on a son for so long that he thought it was humanly impossible for even God to deliver, he and Sarah agreed to have a child through a surrogate. That was a faltering of faith. But God came through eventually. When Abram’s wife was taken from him TWICE, any thinking person (as I’m sure Abram was) would have thought – maybe I shouldn’t have gone this way. He would have questioned, at least, if he made a wrong turn somewhere. But God used those occasions to enrich Abram. By the time God asked Abraham to give his only son as sacrifice, the father of faith was staunch in his belief. He went to obey so thoroughly that an angel had to stay his hand. And so it is with us. We’ll get there. Don’t dismay. The more He does, the more we know He will do. He will not leave us to our own devices. How do I know? Because of what He’s already done. On this, I hang my hat  and my faith. And know, I can conquer anything.

Be blessed,

Loria

Take a listen!

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Inheritance

ac13fa2205eceebf9a77059e9ce698d7‘See, the LORD your God has placed the land before you; go up, take possession, as the LORD, the God of your fathers, has spoken to you. Do not fear or be dismayed.’ Deuteronomy 1:21

I chugged the liter of water down, straight from the bottle, almost not stopping until I’d finished the entire thing. My friends looked on with disbelief, eyes wide, brows raised at the small amount that remained. I had good reason to be thirsty. I’d stood out in the hot summer sun for nearly a half hour with no shelter on a concrete parking lot as I waited for them to show, LOL! I was a little chagrined that I’d not thought to ask anyone if they wanted anything from the smoothie bar in the mall on that Sunday afternoon. Blame it on my dehydrated state. I drained the rest of the bottle.

“Wow,” said one. “You really WERE thirsty!” We all laughed. It was true. And then she added a phrase of which I reminded her, “Not a sip, not a swallow, but the whole darn bottle!” That comment has stayed with me ever since. I think God is using it to show me something about following through on the vision he has given me. The goals I’ve made for myself, I must reach. Coming up short is not an option. I shall continue on with determination and perseverance until I have accomplished what I’ve set out to do.

We know the Israelites were God’s chosen people and He made a promise that He would lead them to a land flowing with milk and honey. He did, but not without some bumps along the way. Once the fledgling nation arrived on the scene – after witnessing miracles of walking across the red sea on dry land, being led by a pillar of cloud by day and fire by night – they were presented with a dilemma. Did they have the courage to take the land God had promised them? Fear stood between them and taking hold of their inheritance. They were counted unworthy of entering into the Promised Land because they failed to ACT as if they believed He would do what He said. So once God chooses you, there is a responsibility upon you to follow through. You must do your part. If you have faith in the One who brought you thus far, you must have the fortitude to act on it.

After they’d entered the Promised Land, the Israelites couldn’t occupy it in full, immediately. God told them he would drive out the nations before them slowly so that the land wouldn’t become overgrown and taken over by beasts. So it took some time. His people camped on one side of the Jordan, not fully realizing their inheritance. They’d only successfully conquered enough area for two and a half tribes so there remained “yet very much land to be possessed.” (Joshua 13:1) God then ordered Joshua to divide the rest of the land into nine and a half territories and encouraged the tribes to make each their own. He said to the Israelites: I’ve given you the land. Be brave and TAKE IT!

My recent book signing for Immaculate was a resounding success (pictures to follow)! I’m so thankful for every opportunity and every person who came out, purchased a book and helped us to celebrate. I feel like we’re still on the edge, though. The dream has not been fully realized. We’ve got a ways to go and our work is cut out for us. But I believe in what God told me and I’m not stopping until I see it through to fruition. I’m finding that God can give you a dream, a passion and a desire to do something, be someone and to live a better life. But He doesn’t always plop it in your lap like on the Monopoly game where you find out a dead uncle left you money and you’re suddenly rich. Sometimes, he places the opportunity before you and you have to be brave enough to reach for it.

I’ve heard it said that the human brain is capable of extraordinary things and that we only use a small portion of that which our brain is actually capable. I think it’s the same with our other abilities, as well. We only do a smidgen of what we are able to truly do. Fear can keep us from accomplishing all that we are created to do, just as in the case of the Israelites. Sometimes, we need that extra push from God, that encouragement, telling us to take possession of our inheritance. How long will we sit on the periphery of our destiny, not fully occupying our given territory? I had a conversation with my son recently which gave me the confirmation I needed.

“God didn’t call anybody to be small,” he said to me one day over breakfast. “Anybody.” He went on to let me know that he is of a state of mind that he is not accepting anything less than what he wants out of life. And he’s willing to work for it. He’s not looking for life to hand it to him, but he’s coming for it. “I want the body I want, the job I want, the life I want. It’s my inheritance! I want all of it.” Wow. There’s no settling in that mindset. No compromise. No, we’ll do this and see how it works. Not just a sip or a swallow. The whole darn bottle. So I want it all! Not because I’m greedy but because it’s mine. God gave me these abilities for a reason; He wants me to give me the life I desire. I only need to have the courage to go after it.

Be blessed,

Loria

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Groaning Pains

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“But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.” Romans 8:26

“I love the Lord, he heard my cry and pitied every groan.” Whitney Houston (The Preacher’s Wife soundtrack)

She sat by the window of her bedroom, sunlight streaming across her aged features. The sunbeams revealed a face full of wisdom. Casting her gaze around the room, she focused with her one good eye. I watched as she pulled her paralyzed, atrophied arm closer to her torso using her fully functioning hand. A huge sigh escaped her, full of hidden meaning as she exclaimed:

“Oh God!”

“What’s wrong, Mama?” Seeing her outwards signs of distress, the way in which she stroked her arm as if to comfort herself, I was concerned. She looked up at me from her wheelchair and replied:

“Nothing. I just felt like saying, ‘Oh, God!'”

I never did find out the cause of my late mother-in-law’s angst. Clearly, something was bothering her, although she would not share it with me. Instead she infused all that she was thinking into that simple phrase, Oh, God. I’ve come to find out since, that it is a prayer. Sometimes, just saying His name is a source of comfort, for HE alone knows what we’re going through. When we are in so much pain that we cannot form the words or give voice to them, an “Oh, God!” will do.

When I was a little girl, my family would travel “down south” frequently. Thirteen hours in a car filled to capacity with only stops to use the restroom. My mother would pack our meal so that we could eat along the way. She stored the fried chicken, fresh and hot, in a shoe box lined with foil. (She always kept shoe boxes because they could come in handy later. Don’t know where she kept them, though, for they would materialize at just the right time, as needed.) She supplied a homemade cake, as well – my mother made THE best yellow cake with a chocolate, ganache-type icing. I can’t remember the other accoutrements but I knew the chicken was always accompanied by a soft loaf of Holsum bread. Usually, our host would provide similar vittles for the return journey. Now that was some good eating!

On one occasion, my Uncle Edmund was driving and it was winter. We were on the road to “Miss’ippi” (as folks from Mississippi pronounced it) on a dark road. As he drove across a bridge, the tires struck a patch of ice, sending the car into a tail spin. As we, the occupants, held on for dear life, I remember my grandmother, Mama Bessie, crying out from the back seat: “JESUS!” The car stopped on a dime, just before we would have crashed through the rail. So sometimes, you don’t even have time to say a prayer. That night I learned that “JESUS!” would do in a pinch.

Still, there are other times when words fail us altogether. We cannot even find it in us to speak His name, so great is our misery. We can rest assured that he hears us, nonetheless. Our spirit cries out on our behalf, talking to Him, telling our Father what words alone cannot convey. Situations in life can drive us to our knees. Mentally, if not in actuality, we’re crawling in our disposition. Grief often has us on our faces, in the dirt, on the floor. But repeatedly, the Bible says, God heard the cries of the oppressed and he delivered them; famously so, in the case of the Israelites. Notably, so, in my own life. I am convinced that Our Father still hears every moan of distress. He sees every sign of dismay. During our most painful moments, we can take comfort. He hears our inner scream and will deliver us from our affliction.

Be blessed,

Loria

I love the LORD because he hears my voice and my prayer for mercy.
Because he bends down to listen, I will pray as long as I have breath! Psalm 116:1-2

 

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It Starts With Us

philando-castile“The Lorax came out of me being angry. In The Lorax I was out to attack what I think are evil things and let the chips fall where they might.” Dr. Seuss

I saw the press conference where the fifteen year old son of Alton Sterling broke down. He tried to be there for his mother, as the oldest of five children, while she talked about how Alton was killed by police. Her son hid his face in a corner of his shirt as she spoke on the tragedy but grief soon overwhelmed him. I’m sure he had heard of the deaths of Mike Brown, Sandra Bland, Tamir Rice and others at the hands of law enforcement. He was old enough to know, as the entire black community in every city now realizes, it could happen to any of us, at any given time. But how can you prepare for this tragedy? It makes no sense. Our life expectancy shouldn’t be shortened because we are black. But none of us, man nor woman, young or old, are exempt no matter how compliant we are. I’m just as certain Sterling’s son thought, as anyone would under similar circumstances: NOT MY FATHER. How did things turn for the worse so quickly? Unbelievable. And inexplicable. It’s a sad day in America when this has become the norm, the killing of black citizens for routine infractions. It was an unjustifiable violent act against an unarmed man. A sad day, not just for blacks, but for every American.

Lately, I’ve been recalling to mind a novel by Stephenie Meyer, The Host. I enjoyed it although it didn’t reach the same level of fame as its predecessor, Twilight. The premise was one we’ve heard before – aliens come to earth and inhabit our bodies. It was regarded as a hostile takeover by humans but as one much needed by an alien race with superior technology. Because they were peaceful, they viewed our society as barbaric. They watched us for a while in secrecy and viewed our news reports. They saw all the evil that men do. These glowing, caterpillar-like creatures were inserted into the minds of humans and changed their behavior. The alien race did away with crime, poverty and sickness. As Wanda, the host, explained, “We make life better.” They were saving us and our planet from us. We were the villains.

I can’t help but agree with the assessment of Wanda’s alien race on our society. Looking at our news reports is enough to make us see the need for change. We need a takeover. And though I can be a Pollyanna and choose to live optimistically, my hopes do not lie in us ever getting it together. The Bible tells us a Utopian existence can only be ushered in upon Jesus’ return. I wait and hope for that day but live in the here and now. What about THIS day? People say: We need to do more than pray! And that is true. Actions are in order. But let us not forget that prayer is our most effective weapon against evil. When the folks who are in authority misuse their power, it is the epitome of the spiritual wickedness that sits in high places. It is for this reason that our weapons of warfare cannot only be those we can see (Ephesians 6:12).

This morning I cried as I learned of the death of yet another, Philando Castile, at the hands of police. I’m angry, frustrated, fed up and tired of all three. Lots of folks on social media are silent. Speechless, I think, because we cannot comprehend the horror. We don’t watch the video because we don’t wanna know. We don’t want to cry or have sympathy for the victim because that destroys our illusion of safety via compliance. The idea that someone could deserve such a fate is ludicrous. The truth is, it can happen to anyone – black or white – and it has. There are those who like to interject: What about black on black crime? As if that could be an excuse for reprehensible behavior on the part of police. What about white on white crime? Asian on Asian? Latino? LGBT? So what? One has nothing to do with the other. Shame on those who jump to defend the perpetrators with such an argument without sparing one moment of sympathy for a life taken senselessly and so soon. But even had you cried, it would have changed nothing. But you might have been stirred to action. So let us be done with our tears and victim blaming and find a solution to this problem.

Years ago, I stood in a grocery line that was only slightly backed up and watched as the cashier gave the elderly lady in front of her hell for going over the limit and for using food stamps. Because it was a cash only line, the cashier claimed that food stamps were not cash. She was about as disrespectful to the old lady as you could be without cursing. I looked at the motherly woman and saw my own Madear and thought: She better not try that with me! And all the things I would do and say to her. When it was my turn, she proved just as belligerent to me. Of course, I told her off and called her manager to report her. He merely agreed with me, said she had been reprimanded in the past but he would talk to her again. Too late, I saw that instead of waiting for my chance to stand against her alone, I should have stood up for the old lady and then it would have been BOTH of us against her. That would have been quite a ruckus. Too many times we wait until it is time to defend our own. We walk away because we don’t want to get involved. But there is strength in numbers.

Repeatedly, the Bible urges us to “watch and pray.” The time has passed for praying only. When you see that there is a problem, instead of saying: “Someone should do something about that,” know that God has called you. Esther could have stayed comfortable in the palace and watched as her people were killed, but her Uncle Mordecai urged her to identify with the Jewish population and speak up. She fasted and prayed, then she acted. And we should watch for those opportunities to say something, putting ourselves in the shoes of those of us who are being persecuted instead of distancing ourselves. We think if we are not like them, we are safe. But this last gentleman who was killed was just a regular guy. The time has come for us to not continue to turn blind eyes and deaf ears to the problem just because it makes us uncomfortable. People are dying. In America.

Oh Lord, that you would come in and inhabit us with your spirit so that we can no longer commit vile acts against each other, being neither the recipient, nor the perpetrator. Let those who are guilty receive their just recompense. Reward them according to their deeds for only you know their hearts. Teach us to pray, give us the words to say to move you on our behalf. But you already have: Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. This is your model for prayer. And if it weren’t possible to have your will be done in this life, I don’t think you would have included that line in your example. So we will pray until YOUR will is accomplished. I don’t believe what we’re living is it. I also pray and remember that when the Israelites were oppressed and cried out for deliverance, you answered them time and again. We are your people, too. And you will answer us, for you love justice. A perfect society may be too much to hope for, but you make things better. We all can do better.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not,” The Lorax.

Be blessed,

Loria

 

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Digging Holes

Dig it upA farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up… Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop—a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown. (Matthew 13:3-4, 8)

Some amazing things are happening in my life right now. Immaculate is creating wonderful opportunities and I’m just in awe of God and what He is doing. Coupled with the great things have been some crushing disappointments. Every time I think I have it all sewed up, things seem to come unraveled. It’s enough to make me wanna give up. Until I recalled the story of Joseph and it put things in perspective.

You may know the story but I’ll briefly recap. Joseph could interpret dreams. His brothers hated him so that he was sold into slavery. But God favored Joseph, who proved so trustworthy that his new master, Potiphar, gave him control over the entire household. Potiphar’s wife saw Joseph and lusted after him. She failed in her attempt to seduce him and cried rape. Potiphar (the captain of the guard) sent Joseph to prison – you know, the fancy one where they send politicians. But the favor of God followed him there, too. The jailer put Joseph in charge. One day, seeing the downcast faces of his fellow prisoners, Joseph offered to put his gift to use and help them.

Preparation met opportunity in that both of these fellows worked for Pharaoh. Joseph said to the cup bearer, who would benefit greatest (unlike the baker, who was damned): Remember me! But of course, the cup bearer forgot and Joseph continued to languish in prison for TWO MORE YEARS! I suppose Joseph, being human, wanted to give up when his wrong wasn’t righted immediately. He may have become discouraged when the cup bearer didn’t immediately spring him free. As the days went by, his hopes likely dwindled and he may have wondered if he would ever be released from prison. Cushy jail or not, it was still jail.

He knew the God of his fathers was faithful. Joseph had been blessed in every circumstance, no matter what tragedy befell him. But this new development had given him hope that his trials would be over soon. And hope is wonderful for lifting your spirits out of despair but also so disheartening when they are not realized. I imagine Joseph, shoulders slumped, drained of all confidence regarding his state. Was he destined to live this life of not quite making it before being snatched back into the pit he dared crawl out of? Was this his life and all there was to it? He may have wondered, why me? Almost, almost, almost but never THERE. His dreams told him a bigger life was in store for him, but his life had yet to catch up with his dreams. He had played his card and lost. He may have been resigned to his fate when suddenly his name was called:

“There he is,” the voice of the jailer said, fondness evident in his voice. Joseph was a model prisoner and his personal favorite. A more faithful person, in the jailer’s estimation, you couldn’t find. How Joseph came to be in this place, the jailer couldn’t fathom because the favor of God was clearly upon this young man. Joseph made life easier for him and the jailer trusted him implicitly. Had there been such a thing as early release due to good behavior or based on rehabilitation, the jailer may have done it, so highly did he esteem Joseph. Joseph looked up as his name was called, his expression dispirited, too hangdog to be expectant. Then he saw the Pharaoh’s men standing in the entrance lit by torches they carried. The lateness of the hour proclaimed the important nature of their visit. Wordlessly, Joseph jumped to his feet as the men opened the door to his cell. They did not grab him roughly but, instead treated him as a dignitary of some stature.

“Pharaoh desires your presence,” the lead soldier announced. Too overwhelmed to be overjoyed, Joseph acquiesced and soon found himself ushered before the leader of all of Egypt. The Pharaoh had been having trouble sleeping due to a recurring nightmare, Joseph had already been informed by the cupbearer, who met with him upon arrival. The cupbearer apologized for the delay but explained he only then remembered (or perhaps, he hadn’t wanted to remind Pharaoh of his offense).

“God will give you a favorable answer,” Joseph said to the Pharaoh and gave the meaning of the dream. It was a warning to the leader that famine was coming soon but during the years preceding there would be plenty. Joseph suggested, being a man used to overseeing the needs of a household and prison, that Pharaoh store up the plenty against the time of famine. Pharaoh thought it such a wonderful idea that he put Joseph in charge of implementing the plan. Now, the boy who was ousted from his father’s house, betrayed by his own brethren and sold into slavery was the vice-president, so to speak, of Egypt!

Today I feel like Joseph and so should you. One day all that we’ve gone through will make sense. It’s preparing us for a bigger day. The vision is for an appointed time – though it tarries, it will not lie (Habakkuk 2:3). Joseph dreamed he’d be bigger than anyone in his family but it didn’t happen for many years. During that time many bad things may have happened that told him his vision was a lie, but Joseph continued to sow seed towards the person he would become. Every honorable act, from taking care of Potiphar’s household to spurning his wife, being a trusted and valued prisoner for the Jailer, and even interpreting troubling dreams for his friends was seed. And one day it would bear fruit. Believing God in the face of what his situation looked like or despite how he felt must have been challenging. But one day he looked back and realized it was God preparing him so that he could be equal to the opportunity. He was able to say to his brothers, then reconciled, “You meant it for evil but God meant it for good.”

Lately, it seems that life events have swung back and forth, like a pendulum, from one extreme to another. But I know the vision God gave me; even though it is delayed, I will wait for it. And I’ll keep preparing for the person God wants me to be, for it is surely coming! Until then I’ll be digging holes and scattering seed, waiting for my harvest. Lord, help me to be equal to the opportunity when it arrives.

Be blessed,

Loria

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It’s Gone Rain on Yo’ Head!

color purple-rain on your head
The Color Purple: It’s gon’ rain on yo’ head!

But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. (Philippians 2:17)

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

Bone tired. Weary. These past few weeks have been mentally draining, but rewarding, full of ups and downs. I’ve ridden a roller coaster of emotions from utmost despair to life-giving hope. I’m exhausted. My faith in the concept of an Open Heaven was put to the test, recently, with the hospitalization of my mother. I thought of the story of Hezekiah when I asked God for more time with MaDear. Surely this is a small thing for you, Lord! God granted my request and I am so thankful! But after a week of watching over her, culminating in an overnight stay, my own life suffered from neglect. Even as issues came up while I was tending to my mom, I regarded them with Scarlett O’Hara disdain: I won’t think about that now. I’ll think about that tomorrow!

So a week’s worth of I’ll-do-it-tomorrows, fires that needed putting out YESTERDAY and things that required my immediate attention were delayed until that crisis was over. And I’d do it again. No THING was as important as what I was doing at that moment, no place so dire that it required my presence. My mom needed me and I needed to be with her. These other things were important, just not as high in priority. Then came the day of reckoning, when it all caught up to me. Wave after wave of actions I could no longer put off overwhelmed me. To be fair, some of it was my fault due to my own habit of procrastination.

Moments of joy also snuck into the dilemmas – I attended a business expo where I debuted a copy of Immaculate and had a meeting with a woman of some standing regarding the original book, Touched. Picture me tagging along in the footsteps of said woman (the wife of a prominent dignitary) looking the picture of the ingénue. Kinda like Emma Stone’s character in The Help or Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada – you know, the all too green girl who’s brand new to the scene. I took it all in with a sense of wonder. I was among greatness! But I wasn’t too surprised, after all, the Bible does promise that is where my gifts will take me. Still, I just hope my eyes weren’t too big, LOL!

This created an odd mixture of highs and lows as both aforementioned events occurred on the same day and I had to squeeze in a visit to my mom in between. My sister fell sick after she’d stayed up all night providing confections for my presentation at the expo. She made cake pops that looked like tiny books with my cover on them! Super talented, that one is. I had to return to the hospital and finish out her shift. Whew! But I didn’t give in. I kept going until the important things were taken care of.

It was only afterwards that I succumbed. After my mom was released from the hospital and doing well, after I’d taken care of all the necessary things that claimed my attention. I woke yesterday morning feeling out of sorts, blah, troubled in my spirit. Didn’t even know why. Couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I’ve learned, though, that feelings are fickle. Can’t trust ‘em because they may vary from minute to minute. I ate breakfast as my stomach did flips. Drank my coffee and still was not eased. Then I decided to ride it out and just wait ‘til the feeling passed. I took a nap. Woke up feeling better and had more of a handle on what I was experiencing. My throat felt like it had a small lump on the inside when I swallowed, an indication of the onset of something allergy or virus related. And there I had it, I realized. I was worn down, nearly sick physically but too busy to take note. My body was slowly shutting down, forcing me to get what I needed, the rest I would not take but for physical limitations.

Have you ever felt like you’ve given your all, your absolute all – done the very best you can do and worn yourself down to a nub? A question I’ve often asked myself is, where do you go when you’ve emptied your cup? Who or what fills you back up to capacity so that you can get back at it again? Father, I’m so glad that when troubles come my way, when they pile up on my head, when the enemy comes against me like a flood, YOU will lift up a standard against him (Isaiah 59:19). David, that great psalmist, was able to declare after he had been run to the ground by Saul and his enemies: YOU restore my soul so that my cup runneth over! Elijah, after outrunning King Ahab’s chariot, soon found himself on the run from Queen Jezebel. But an angel caught up with Elijah and provided sustenance to strengthen him for the journey ahead. So when I pour myself out and sacrifice myself in service, I can be assured there will be a refill and restoration.

Thank you, Lord, that you know my limits. You know when I have poured myself out and given all I can to my family and my ministry. You know when I am at the end of my rope. I can trust You to make sure I get the rest I need and the peace for my soul. You fill my cup again and again, until it overflows.

Be forever blessed,

Loria

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An Open Heaven

clouds-385290_1280So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me.” John 11:41

I sat in church on Sunday and listened as the pastor expounded on his topic. See, this is the Year of Jubilee in Jerusalem, according to the pastor. Every seven years God granted the Israelites a get out of jail free card, so to speak. It was a time when every man was forgiven his debt and regained his freedom if he were enslaved. He could start over fresh. (Our bankruptcy laws seem to follow this pattern.) After seven cycles of these periods of forgiveness, the Year of Jubilee was proclaimed and the Israelites were assured of additional blessings, i.e., given back property that he’d mortgaged, for example. So the pastor had a list of seven blessings that he determined were also a result of Jubilee: Presence of God, double portion, family blessings, miracles, financial abundance, restored relationships and an open heaven.

My mind fixated on that last one, considering the possibilities. I got excited the more I thought about it. I mean, I really bought into it. I believed it meant I could pray and have God’s ear always and therefore, was more likely to have my request granted. Every blessing listed could be mine, similar to how Solomon asked for wisdom and received wealth and peace, as well. The concept seemed to me a wonderful catchall. It covered everything. It was like getting a surprise bonus, a twofer, a bogo. (You should have seen me the other night when my brother got my frozen yogurt free with his purchase at my favorite shop, LOL!) I latched on to the idea eagerly. The pastor said, “Point to your blessing and call it out!” (The words were displayed prominently around the walls of the sanctuary.) Obediently, I pointed to An Open Heaven, figuring it would get me the most bang for my buck! I receive it, I cried aloud with the rest of the congregation.

But my mind said, “Hey! Wait a minute!” The entire premise is predicated on our covenant being the same as the Israelites. But it’s actually not. The covenant of Israel can seem appealing (blessed coming and going, in the city and the field, lender not a borrower and all that) but the new covenant is better. The old testament or covenant is contingent on being able to keep the law. If you break one, you are guilty of all. The new covenant, the Bible says, is a better covenant. The blood of Jesus does what the sacrifices of goats and bulls could not do. It saves and cleanses and forgives and restores continually. While we are descendants of Abraham (“And if you be Christ’s, then are you Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” Galatians 3:29) because of our faith, we are entitled and can lay claim to the promises made to him.  It’s just not limited to a certain time during a specific year.

I realized that Jesus died so that I can have access to heaven every second of every minute of every hour of every day. Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, 365 days a year. So in reality, I already have the ear of God, always. He hears me and answers my prayers. I don’t need to proclaim a special year to receive that. My former pastor once said of the coming new year, “Every year can’t be your year!” Au contraire mon frère! Oh, but it can! Because the veil has been taken away, I have unlimited access to God. I can come boldly, confidently to his throne and make my request as His daughter.

I was elated. If news of one Jubilee year got me excited, a lifetime of being able to claim these blessings made an even bigger impact. Membership has privileges, I thought to myself as I quoted an old commercial. I became bolder in my prayer life and began to believe God for more. And I saw more results. What if, all this time, I was only hindered by my belief or lack thereof? So I began to pray like Jesus and know I have the very ear of God. I no longer wonder now. I know this of a certainty. Thank you Father, that you always hear me. Oh, the blessings in store for us now that we know we have them! I feel I have found a treasure that is secret no longer. And that is good news, indeed!

Be blessed,

Loria

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Let’s go crazy!

Prince“But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people …” (1 Peter 2:9)

“And if the elevator tries to break you down, go crazy!” Purple Rain soundtrack

This is one of the first images, my early recollections of the Artist who would be known as Prince. Little did I know then that he would become embedded, intertwined in the fabric of my life. I consider myself somewhat of a fan, though not a fanatic. I would find myself singing a Prince tune frequently, mostly when I was happy. For some reason, more often than not, it was Raspberry Beret … the kind you find in a second hand store, LOL! And nothing can get me stoked like the first bars of Glamorous Life (to this day, I am fascinated with female musicians, especially drummers), Nasty Girl (Don’t judge me!) and When Doves Cry. I was your typical young girl; if it had a great beat, catchy refrain and made me want to dance, count me in. And on a particularly morose first day of my work week, you could hear me singing Manic Monday. But the love for his songs continued past my youth. After my divorce, I found and fell in love with his rendition of, I can’t make you love me if you don’t. But even that was more because of his arrangement and vocal style than because of the depressing subject matter. So many great songs and wonderful memories. A childhood friend remarked, after meeting him, that he was tiny. Smaller than her and she was pretty petite. But his stage presence was larger than life.

Purple Rain was a huge hit, it even received a ringing endorsement from Roger Ebert (which was pretty cool at that time). I remember our excitement and fever at the prospect of going. And it was a movie for grown ups. Unlike a lot of musical talent today, he didn’t try to appeal to the tween generation of his time. He made his music, racy lyrics and all, unapologetically. I give him points for living his life on his terms. Even to changing his name when it suited him and refusing to be owned by the powers that be. It takes courage and a great sense of self to do that in a world that’s always pushing us to conform. His musical genius is, was undeniable.

One song which arose from that movie, I could count on to pick me up most times when I was feeling down: Let’s Go Crazy! For some reason the lyrics to this particular song resonated with me. “Not gonna let the elevator BREAK US DOWN!” That elevator was life. That elevator was The Man, people in authority, your boss or anyone that tried to oppress you, to put you down and keep you down. The circumstances and situations that arose to test your resolve to excel, to challenge your determination to succeed. That elevator, man, you couldn’t let it get to you. This appealed to the rebellious streak in me. My manager used to always ask this question after a training session to ensure that it had been helpful: What are your take aways? I took this message from the life of Prince: when faced with obstacles, get radical. Be so good at what you do, you can’t be ignored. Smile in the face of your haters, perpetrators and instigators, knowing that you can’t be stopped from reaching your goal. That way of thinking could require some arrogance on your part (or so it may seem to an onlooker) or, great faith in God who bestowed upon you unimaginable gifts that could propel you.

When I was a little girl, my family lived in an apartment building on the eighth floor. Frequently the elevator would break down. Which meant for us, a manual trip up and down those eight flights of stairs. No mean feat, I can assure you, after a visit to our local grocery store where my mother would shop for her family of, coincidentally, eight people. So of course, she could not let a malfunctioning elevator stop her, it could only slow her down. Did I also mention, she didn’t have a car? Nor did she drive. So a trek on foot to and from the store was followed by a long haul up and down the stairs until everything was safely ensconced in our little kitchen. Lack of car or elevator just forced her to choose another way to get things done. That other way often forces us to be more creative, to think outside to box or to construct another box altogether. Can’t find a job? Make one! Looking for your piece of the pie? Fuggedaboutit! Make your OWN pie. Throw all of those preconceived notions, those conventional barriers to success out the window.

Being creative can make you appear unusual to other folks. Peculiar, even. You’ll look downright crazy at times. What? You don’t want to work a regular job until you die? Something must be wrong with you! It goes against the norm. But I revel in being different. It’s so stifling to me to be otherwise. So when I hear that song it is actually empowering to me. It has become symbolic of my struggle. It says to me, it’s ok to be you. Be original. Be true to who you are. And whatever happens, don’t let life get you down. Persevere. Push through it, get back up – no matter how many times you have to do it or how many tries it takes. Don’t give up. GO CRAZY.

Be blessed,

Loria

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MASTERPIECE, a Self Love Anthem

jaz
Jazmine Sullivan performing Masterpiece at BET’s Black Girls Rock! 

Click here to listen only … sadly, I am unable to post the video, but let me assure you it is ah-mazing! I’m SO in love with this song – the lyrics reveal why:

My eyes ain’t used to these rays
I’m feeling exposed, but I hide no more
I can’t hide
As the sun shines on all of my glory
My flaws don’t look so bad at all
What was I so afraid of?

Every part of me is a vision of a portrait
Of Mona, of Mona Lisa
Every part of me is beautiful
And I finally see I’m a work of art
A masterpiece

Who is this I’ve tried so long fight?
Filling my heads with lies that I’m not good enough
Then I heard something in my ear
Tell I’m perfect, now that I know the truth
Time to show and prove

Every part of me is a vision of a portrait
Of Mona, of Mona Lisa
Every part of me is beautiful
And I finally see I’m a work of art
A masterpiece

And now I see the pretty colors on my canvas
I’m a work of art, a Mona Lisa
I’ll share my picture with the world
Not afraid to let it show anymore

I can light the night, shine so bright
(Let my colors paint the sky)
I can light the night, shine so bright
(There is beauty in my eyes)
I can light the night, shine so bright
(And I can see it now, I believe it now, I can feel it now)
I can light the night, shine so bright
(Want the world to see, I’m a work of art. I’m a masterpiece)
I can light the night, shine so bright
(I am beautiful)

Every part of me is a vision of a portrait
Of Mona, of Mona Lisa
Every part of me is beautiful
And I finally see I’m a work of art
A masterpiece