Monday, November 09, 2009

Fantasy Football

(from the ball's perspective)

It’s Sunday Morning, time to impress

Everyone’s looking, I have to do my best.

Do I have enough air? Are my seals closed tight?

I wouldn’t want to be lonely on Sunday night.

The day starts early with many inspections.

The team manager looks at all of us, and makes his selections.

He chooses the one that feels the best.

And look at that! I feel better than the rest!

Oh, I am looking good today, ready to play.

The final inspections before I get my say.

These are the hardest because these guys are the ones

Who are going to hold me, caress me, and squeeze my buns!

Well Good Morning Peyton! How do you do?

I am so lucky to be starting for you.

I’ve always dreamed of being in your hands.

All of your wishes today are my command.

I love how you squeeze me from head to toe,

Placing your fingers firmly between each row.

You tell the manager you like my shape.

You say I feel lucky, inside it makes me go ape!

You toss me aside and pick up the next

And do the same until you get a text

It’s the coach wanting to see you soon

I just wait patiently until game time, around noon.

When everyone’s gone, the football babe gossip begins.

They tell me how things are for all of my friends.

How they got treated, where they worked and where they’ve been.

This week has been tough, it’s a shame and a sin.

One friend got picked for the Patriots game last Sunday night.

Got her ass kicked up and down the field, just isn’t right.

She begged to be handled sweetly, licked and tossed,

She longed for another chance with Randy Moss.

Another was selected to play with the Bills.

Hhh~ Another boring night with no spectacular frills.

Yes, T.O. is on the team, but that’s no big pop

Because every time she touches his hands, she ends up dropped.

My girl was chosen to play with Romo.

What she’s expected to do, she doesn’t know.

She tried to explain that she can’t perform miracles.

His plays are not planned, rather completely lyrical.

“Poor girls!” I say as we continue to talk through the walls.

Thinking how it’s better to be us than other types of balls.

The other kinds of balls have it much worse than we do.

They often don’t return to talk and laugh and see another day through.

Although we may get our asses kicked from time to time,

Their Daddys try to kill them and send them flying.

We’ve got golf balls, hit with clubs across a huge course.

We’ve got baseballs hit with bats, can’t say what’s worse.

They there are the basketballs, slammed to the floor.

When the players get mad, they slam them into the doors.

Like us they are handled by the best of millionaires.

Man I miss the touch passes by Steve McNair.

Hhh back to us I now return.

Thinking of how my body yearns

To be felt, grabbed, tossed and kicked.

Collie, Wayne, don’t let me get picked.

At this time, I’ll take a quick break

Don’t want to look tired cuz I tried to stay awake.

“See you soon Peyton dear” I whisper before going to sleep.

I dream about him holding me tight just before going deep.

 

 

 

Doriannicole Standish

8 Nov 09

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

I know your name...

You know, the world may not see your game.
You may never be shrouded in shame.
But I know your name.

You may try to move on with your life.
You may lie to your families, your wives.
But I know your name.

You can follow me from place to place.
Your actions you may have tried to erase.
But I know your name.

You think you lucked out, you got away.
I am here to tell you that there will come a day.
And I know your name. God knows your name.

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Have you ever....

Have you ever found yourself in a valley so low, you were drowning in water? playing in black oil? or looking Satan right in his eyes?

Have you ever found youself crying so hard you forgot to breathe? your heart hurting so bad your body begin to ache?

Have you ever been surrounded by people, yet felt completely alone? Felt like trust for others was an unattainable feat?

Have you ever felt so worthless, so devoid of value, that killing yourself gave more effort that you deserved?

Have you ever feared so much that your mind refused to sleep? felt so much anxiety that you couldn't digest food?

Have you ever hated yourself for hating others? Have you ever tried to forgive but couldn't make your heart comply?

Have you ever prayed hoping to find faith again? Have you ever hoped for the ability to pray from the heart again?

Have you ever been murdered? Raped? Beaten? Criticized? Ridiculed? Persecuted? Tortured? Drugged?

Have you ever wondered about the world we live in? Questioned how people could be so cold? So callous? So selfish?

Have you been so estranged from God that the idea of church brings a fitful burst of tears and weeping?

Have you ever wondered what is below hell because you've already reached there?

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Were you there?

A testament of faith...

This week, I found myself in the Emergency Room twice. The first was scary enough, the latter, damn near took my life. I have spent the entire week in bed, in pain, in and out of sleep. I kept thinking that things happen because I speak my mind... LOL. I published my last blog and spoke about the anger and rage I felt toward God for letting me hurt so much. And, then, this week when my body was screaming with pain, the frustration just became deeper... why me?

Anger, frustration, resentment and disappointment all charged my spirit at once. I was angry at my mother, my pastor, the Bible, and God for allowing me to believe he'd always be there for me. I hear Fred Hammond singing 'No weapon', I read the Bible (Hebrews 13:6) and I think I am going to be okay, no matter what comes my way. God is supposed to be there, to save us, to protect us, to comfort us.



So, how does it happen? How was I left alone to fight for my life? At church, they still tell me that God was there. Really? Was He? I am no longer asking my family, the pastors, my friends, the Bible. I am asking HIM:




Were You there...



...when they decided to take what didn't belong to them?



...when they beat me, spit on me, cursed at me?



...when they lied on me?



...when they tried to kill me?



...when they abandoned me?



...when they told me I wasn't going to make it?



...when they turned on me?







Were You...



...holding my hand while they raped me?



...carrying me when they threw me in a ditch?



...watching while they laughed and made fun of me?



...protecting me while they destroyed my dreams?



...with me when they killed my baby?



...there when they took my loved ones away?



...lying by my side when I woke up from nightmares?



Were you there...

...through all of the treatments, the needles, the pain?

...when migraines controlled my life?

...when my family doubted me and some turned their backs to me?

...when my body almost lost life..again?

I prayed to Him, asking Him, yelling at Him, demanding answers. I haven't been able to talk to Him lately. Admittedly, I've been giving him the silent treatment for months. But now, I needed to know why I should believe in the power of God when He never wielded it for me. Why should I believe in the mercy of God, when He showed none toward me. And how could I ever believe He loved me if all I felt was unyielding hatred, shame, and disappointment towards myself?

The one thing I hadn't expected happened...He put me in such a place this week that not only would I call to Him, but the pain kept me still so I could hear him...

He responded; His voice spoke delicately yet with firm resolve. He said to me:


My child, you ask me whether or not I was there, yet here you stand. I was there, taking your pain, protecting you from the ultimate loss. I was there making sure that all that you endured was never more than you could bear. I was there, moving things, making sure that what you live through will ultimately build you and bring glory to my name. I heard you cry out my name, and I answered. I wiped away your tears. I am mending your broken spirit. Do you know, my child, the beauty of a broken spirit? It is similar to a broken bone. Once broken and healed, it is extraordinarily difficult to break it in the same place again. The mended bone is much stronger than the never before injured bone. Like a broken bone, it hurts and it takes time to heal.


There was never a moment of shame for you. You acted in my grace. You did what I asked you to do. You did what your heart told you to do. Do you remember how they treated Jesus? Do you remember how they beat him, lied on him, abandoned and tried to kill him? Do you remember how Jesus wept? He wept for you. He wept for the pain that you are feeling right now. But, while his body died, his spirit remained alive, indomitable.

The pain you feel now resides in your inability to focus. Focus on me, not that pain, and it will disappear. The more you give it, the more it will take from you. My commitment to you is unwavering, you are my child. No matter your perceived flaws, your mistakes, your emotions, you are mine and I made you exactly how I want and need you to be. You do my work everyday, humbling yourself, maintaining peace, and giving to others that which you barely yourself have. And even when they attempt to steal from your happiness, you radiate with joy. Your very presence literally lights a room. It is not because of your greatness, but because of mine that resides in you.

And, my child, you aren't faithless. If you were, you wouldn't be calling on me now. You couldn't be angry or disappointed. So while your faith and trust in me may be limited, it is there. And all I ask is that you have faith the size of a mustard seed...together we can move mountains.
Know that I love you...no one in this world can love you the way that I do...I understand that it will take time for you to know that in your mind. But, your heart is now and has always been mine. Your spirit may have once been weakened, but it has never died.

Your faith kept you from giving up. It is your faith that helps you pull it together each day. It's what keeps you doing what you started. It's why you still love and help others. Because you have faith in Me. You may never see how much stronger you are, you may never see past that moment in your life, but the darkness of the situation creates a beautiful contrast with what is store for you. I love you, my child.

Monday, August 24, 2009

Keeping it A Hundred....

I am sitting here in front of the screen with a million and ten thoughts traversing recklessly through my mind. I am wondering which of these will make it to the page, which of these will die in my heart. I have never publicly written anything in this manner; great thought and care goes into the things I choose to share with the world. So, as you read this, I ask you to forgive me for being so blunt, so honest, and for showing blatant and complete disregard for anyone's feelings and/or opinions. Forgive the ping pong effect of my writing as I am just putting it down as it comes out of me; without edits, without take backs. I learned a long time ago that what is said, once it comes out, can never be taken back. And, more importantly, I am learning right now, more than ever, that at the end of the day, I have to deal with me and no one else.

First, to answer the many emails and messages about why I haven't written much, let me say that I was holding back to avoid offending anyone, to avoid putting anyone in any particular situations, and to try to avoid anything I hated about my life completely. It's hard to write from the heart when there is so much weighing it down. The past few months have seen me at my ultimate worse ever. There were days when I thought I didn't belong in this world. Here I am serving my country, willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for my country and the people in it, and so many of them are ambivalent, ungrateful, spoiled and selfish. I watched as people lost their lives defending our country. We have been at war for almost 8 years. I know it's hard to believe but this September 11th will be the 8th year of this incessant battle. But who are we fighting? I am not even sure anymore. Moreover, why are we fighting? To protect innocent lives?

We need to be focusing on the wars at home. Teenagers having sex with adults, "sexting" from video game devices, children smoking smarties...THE CANDY! to get high, snorting kool-aid for a buzz, sneaking shots of alcohol but putting them up their noses for an immediate high. Let's not mention boyfriends constantly killing their girlfriends, husbands beating the hell out of their wives, women throwing their lives away in underground strip clubs and a whole fucking state considering making prostitution legal. Let's not talk about what I think about this. We have people killing each other over words written in a song. We have people going back and forth disrespecting the very essence of another because of something childish that one said about the other. Rhianna decides to speak out for abused women and then goes back to the bastard that beat her. Mariah and Eminem going back and forth about who slept with who? And the thing about it...all of this makes so much money. We allow this bullshit to happen.

What about quarterbacks that retire 15 times? Can we talk about football for a sec? Because it is a great analogy to the lack of loyalty and conviction that we are seeing around the world today. For everyone, it's about the money, the title, the fame, the fortune. All of these things are supposed to make them happy. Yet, these dumb asses go right back to their old neighborhoods that they so desperately tried to get out of, and kill each other. They want media attention, so they retire and then come and suck royally...again. Money isn't enough. We have no real role models for our children to follow. Those that make it, never return to lift others out. Those that get some status, return only to add to the problems. They are loyal to everyone but themselves. They have little values, little respect for themselves and others, and they certainly don't give a damn about the little boys and girls who are doing everything possible to emulate them.

Let's talk politics for a second. Barack Obama came into office and within the first 100 days people were 'disappointed' with the progress that he made. The fact that he made progress in the midst of such a mess is in and of itself a miracle. Do you know where the economy was? Really? Do you really know how messed up the schools were? While we are talking about schools, did you know that the Secretary of Education that Obama appointed was the first one ever to have a background in education? Does this speak about our previous priorities? Does this explain why No Child Left Behind left more children behind than any of its predecessors? Hmmm. Maybe schools in the nation's capital will get some books...maybe we can pay teachers enough to support themselves on their salaries. Has anyone out there ever lived in NYC, DC, LA? Do you think $35,000 is going to cut it? Nah...not without a second salary.

Then, there is the health care crisis. Let's face it, there is no solution that is going to make everyone happy. Most developed countries have some form of government subsidized health care. Think about this for a second: I have cancer. In the United States, one chemotherapy treatment cost $16,000. Most health care plans that you get from work have a cap of $250,000. So, let's just put it out there. 12 rounds of chemotherapy $192,000. Prescriptions (of which I had 13-14 per day at any given time) $1000/month. So in a given year: $12000. Operations to remove tumors and growths, tests, doctor's fees, specialists fees, radiation...before we even find the right solution, we've busted the cap. Now, it's out of pocket for us. So, government subsidized health care wouldn't be right for everyone necessarily, but it would allow me to do what I wanted to do for a living without starving to death. It is a common saying that the drugs aren't what makes chemotherapy patients thin and fragile, it's their inability to pay for the food they need to survive.

Then there are the deeper sentiments that have come into my mind over the last several months. As much as I have a love and respect for God, we just don't seem to be on the same page. I am praying now, to be able to repair the relationship I once had with him. I look to my faith to bring me through trying times, but in November, my faith was stolen. I felt like I'd died...alone. I went to church a couple of weeks later and heard the pastor say that God is with you always; that He never leaves your side; and that when you are going through tough times, that He holds your hand and leads you out... And all I could think was: was God holding my hands when they were raping me? Did he have my back when they were kicking me, when they were spitting on me, burning me with cigarette butts? Was he leading me through the darkness toward the woods where they ejaculated time and time on me, in me; taking turns on me? Where was He when I was screaming out His name? Was He holding my hand when they were stepping on them and kicking my side until I stopped fighting? Was He watching and delivering me while they were literally pulling my hair out, dragging me by my hair through the woods? My Father which art in heaven...would I have been able to watch my child go through that without reacting? Would I have allowed the military to revictimize me over and over again? To blame me for what happened that night? Would I have left such a void in my child's heart that she could not find enough love for herself to even look in the mirror some days?

How do you justify allowing someone to suffer? How is that grace and mercy? I know I may be offending some, but it has plagued my heart for months. Slowly I am working to repair my relationship, but it's hard to put my trust in Him to protect me and keep me. Really hard.

While we are on familial relationships... let me put something else out there . I am working hard to forgive everyone in my life that has done something to tear me down. I am trying to forget the images of my mother with the phone cord wrapped around her neck, or the can of coins hitting her in the head. I am trying to forget the cousins who molested, the neighbors who touched me inappropriately. And no, most of the world doesn't know about all of this. I am not looking for revenge. I am not looking for any kind of reparations or for them to be punished. I am only trying to find peace and closure. I am trying to close doors that, left open, inhibit me from being able to fully love myself. I am trying to find peace with it all.

If you know you wronged me, you betrayed my trust, you hurt my family, you hurt me, stop acting like you've always been there. Stop pretending that you 'supported' me and I have accomplished all that I have because of your encouragement. Stop taking credit for things you had nothing to do with. I am sure it doesn't help me to find forgiveness. What I don't understand is how you can think that because in your heart you feel that you have changed, become more of a man, given your life to Christ, or whatever it is you say, that it overrides the damage you've already done. That your life changes somehow ameliorates the pain and suffering you put me through. Just putting it out there.

I am who I am because of my life experiences. So, in some perverse way, sure you had something to do with it. The men in my life taught me what NOT to accept in a husband. The women in my life taught me how NOT to accept bullshit excuses as to why he hit you, or why you have to sleep with him whenever he wants to, or why marriage somehow means relinquishing control over your life and letting go of your dreams. There are women in my life that taught me to speak up for myself, to put these big feet to use when necessary and to not be afraid to speak my mind.

I am tired of people seeing me for what is on the outside. I am tired of being my rank, tired of being my accomplishments, my failures, other people's expectations. I am tired of trying to live up to other people's definitions of success, of a wife, of a sister, of a friend. I am tired of being happy when behind the smile are tears of frustration that I don't have permission to express. Fuck that. I will cry when I need to cry, laugh when I think something is funny, and express myself when I need to. I am on my time. I cannot fear man anymore...what else can he do to me? I've already been murdered twice. What more can you do? You've taken so much from me. You've trampled over me, beat me, raped me, scarred me, broken bones, destroyed everything you could, even my self-esteem. But I am here to let you and the rest of the world know... I am still standing. I'm stronger than you think, hell, I am stronger than I thought.

I work out twice a day for a couple of reasons: one, I think it is awesome that sizes 2,4,6 are always on the clearance rack...so I, in frugality and vanity, choose to stay that size...although cheese sticks and french fries call me like the snake in the apple tree. Two, I am getting physically stronger so that the next man (or woman) that feels they can take advantage of me has a lot more coming at them than they may expect. I am finding my inner gangsta... LOL... I will cut somebody if necessary.

I am not condoning violence. In fact, that's what breaks us down as a people. But, I am condoning taking care of yourself. Cuz, at the end of the day, no one has your back like you do. No one is going to be there every time. And, like I said before, at the end of the day, you have to deal with you. Someone wise let me in on that little secret. So, i am dealing with me. One day at a time.

Saturday, March 07, 2009

Playing outside of the sandbox...

There comes a time in your life when you have the opportunity to step outside of your box. You have the chance to make the greatest decision of your life, possibly. You realize the safety and security of your life, albeit extremely superficial, is at stake...but that the joy and happiness that is possible as an outcome is far greater.

The truth of the matter is that we get these awesome chances very rarely. We so often miss them because we feel the risk is to great, we have not opened our minds enough, or we have no real sense of self to be able to defy the status quo. So often, we are so preoccupied with the possible judgements and criticisms of others that we don't do what our hearts say is best for us. Sometimes, we have to learn to just do what works best for us and allow others the opportunity to get over it.

With time, people will learn to move past the fact that your world has expanded beyond the box. You will learn that you have the ability to step out and will do so more often. Life is short and precious. There is nothing like trying it out. IF all else fails, you can always step back into the box.

Risk, take the chance... Live, on the edge... Love, without boundaries...

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Phenomenal Woman

Today, we are transitioning from Black History Month into both Women's History month and National Poetry Month. So, in honor of all of these celebrations, I am posting one of my favorite poems. It's inspiring, thought-provoking, and written by one of the most intelligent women I have ever met, Black or White. Over the years, as a author, a poet, or as my professor, Maya Angelou has taught me so much about myself without ever telling me about myself. Instead, her words, whether in poetry or prose, speech or other, speak directly to the definition of my being. It is this poem, built of confidence, that allows so many women to find the courage to be who God made them to be.


Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,That's me.
I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,That's me.
Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,That's me.
Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a womanPhenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,That's me.
Maya Angelou

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Missy's Garden

Once there was a girl, Missy, who just loved gardens. She loved the colors, the patterns, the freedom and ability to design God’s work for him. She couldn’t wait until springtime when the butterflies would come to visit the gardens, or the summertime when the fireflies would light up the evening views.

Missy was bright, ambitious and determined. So, she ventured out to create the garden of a lifetime. She imagined herself standing amongst the most beautiful plants and flowers in the world. She even considered planting trees in her garden.
First, she began by cultivating the land where she planned to build her garden. She treated the soil with special fertilizers, removed all of the weeds and rocks that had inhabited the earth where she’d decided to plant her garden.

On the eve of the sowing process, a terrible storm came and destroyed all of her hard work. The water and wind stripped the soil of all of the fertilizers she put down and tossed in rocks and sticks and outside rubbish from other lots. Moreover, the winds and rains had carried away many of her supplies.
The damage was devastating. It would take a long time to cultivate the land again. Many of her resources were low. The cost of repurchasing all of her supplies, the time to remove all of the rocks and sticks, the changing climate, and the fear of another storm consumed her. She began to doubt her ability to make a garden. Her garden, once pregnant with possibility, now seemed helplessly barren. Maybe this had been God’s way of telling her she wasn’t meant to have a garden. Still deep inside, the longing for a garden persisted.


After some time, she cleared the rubbish and rocks to a side of the lot. She had already decided that she would only plant a smaller garden. So, she took some of the resources she’d saved since the storm and began the process all over again; just on a smaller scale. As time progressed she began to see the fruits of her labor. Small blossoms appeared in a myriad of colors and shades; greens and reds, purples, oranges, yellows. She was beginning to hope again.


Deep in her heart she wanted that garden she’d always longed for. So, she began the great expansion project. She wanted people to be able to see the beauty she saw in her small garden. She wanted people to be able to really see all of the elements that created her garden. So, day by day, she expanded little by little until one day she reached the maximum area.


While it was difficult to manage such a large space, she did her best to make it presentable and inviting. People stopped to look but very few saw past the vastness of the garden to see the smaller parts that created the greater image. After a couple of years, she got tired of people trampling her flowers, tired of the storms that blew rubbish into her flowerbeds and moreover, tired of people stealing flowers from her beloved garden. She felt like maybe she needed to revamp her garden and focus the garden around something more fixed, more permanent. Maybe she could find something that no one could take away…maybe the trees from her original design would suffice.


In the midst of the garden remodel, Missy found herself growing physically tired. Caring for such a massive garden was proving to be quite a bit of work, not to mention choosing the perfect tree, moving it to the garden, and supporting it until it had strong enough roots of its own. Yet, she continued. She knew there was a long road ahead of her, but she could see her garden coming along.


Then, one day out of nowhere, Missy woke up to a garden plagued with some kind of disease. It ravaged her garden, spreading like a malignant cancer across her garden. It destroyed the perimeter of her garden, it killed the blossoming flowers on the ground and finally her rose bushes began to die too. She sought professional help to save her garden. She worked side by side with them while they toiled in her garden trying to stop the metastasis of the dream killing disease. The professionals gave her garden treatment after treatment. The disease would go away for a few months only to resurface because they’d left a single infected plant in the garden. Again, they’d provide treatment after treatment.


Missy focused all of her energy on her trees in the middle of her garden. She refused to let this disease affect her trees. She watched them carefully and continued to pour her resources into both the garden at large and the trees. Eventually, Missy had to change her career to make sure she could continue to watch her garden.


It took almost seven years for Missy’s garden to begin to develop again. Her trees were doing well. By the end of the 8th year, Missy had seven trees standing tall in the center of her garden. She still fought off the garden bandits who sought to steal her flowers. She still had to protect her plants from the abuse of storms, trampling feet, and the little boys who played too close to her garden. She built tall fences around her garden. Yet, they still managed to enter. So she made her fences concrete, wide blocks, impenetrable without major effort.


In the beginning of the seventh year, she opened her garden for the first time. She determined that she could allow select people to see it up close. Her first visitor was so great. He seemed to know all about the garden. He identified so many of the flowers on the first try. She was so at ease with him. She let him into her garden regularly. He always noticed changes, she loved that he loved her garden. For seven months he came every day. Then, just as quickly as he’d entered her world, he disappeared. She was devastated. For three months he didn’t show up to see her garden, although she tried to invite him.


Just when she’d given up on her garden companion, he showed up at her gate entrance. By now, she’d closed off the garden to anyone. He begged her to let him come to see the garden. She reluctantly obliged. But something had changed. She saw him more as a trespasser instead of a visitor. And, she found herself asking him to leave.


She frantically uprooted her garden and moved to a different place. In the process, she lost some of the plants but figured she’d replace them as soon as she was settled. Her trees all survived the move, although one tree, that she’d affectionately named Faith, was not as strong as the others. The move really weakened Faith because her roots had been so deeply planted and the uprooting process is most dangerous the deeper the roots are. Between the disease and the move, the garden had grown much smaller than it once was, but it was still something to behold.
Amazingly, the lot she moved to already had big walls. Her garden was finally safe. The professionals hadn’t detected any of that malicious disease that had killed off so much of her garden. No pests, in insect or human form, were going to enter her garden ever again.


It was lonely without any visitors but the beauty of the garden was beginning to become more apparent. Missy worked overtime to repair Faith. She needed to make sure that her Faith was strong and intact. While she worked on Faith, she also continued to work on Knowledge, another big tree. This type of tree needed constant care.


One day, she sat in the garden and leaned on Faith. She decided to extend her garden in a way she hadn’t before. She was going to add a balcony from which she could see the full aerial view of her garden. She went to the contractor’s office and told him of her plans. He helped her design her balcony and get her started on this long project. This was no ordinary balcony. It depended on the height of her Faith and on her Knowledge.


As she was leaving the contractor’s office one day, she ran into a man who was very attractive. His name was RJ. She thought about her garden and her last visitor. She continued past him. Time and time again, she ran into him until finally, she begin to let him see elements of her garden. She’d bring cut flowers from her garden, small examples of what lay behind that massive wall. He seemed interested in all that she had in her garden. So, she very hesitantly allowed him to peek inside the walls.


After a while, he began removing parts of the wall. He understood that the plants needed sunlight from all directions. RJ understood that there were so many things that made Missy’s garden beautiful. He saw more than the plants. He saw the love and dedication that she put into it. He saw the fear which caused her to protect each one. And while he couldn’t protect her garden from disease, he could help her protect it from the trampling feet, the blossom thieves, and allow her to remove the wall, so every plant can have sun light.


With him there, the garden blossomed. Butterflies began to emerge and grow in her delicate garden. A beautifully ornate vine, Amorous, was planted. This was a project that required a lot of effort from both of them. But, it was a beautiful addition to the garden. It surrounded the garden, like the wall had before, but gave way to brilliant sunlight. Oh this garden was becoming a sight to see.


Like any success, there were those who sought to destroy the garden. And they came in, one Friday night in November, and vandalized the garden. They threatened Missy that if she rebuilt it, they’d do her more harm than they had done her garden. She fell to her knees, afraid for both her garden and her own life. Faith had been damaged the most. Confidence, another tree was hurt badly too. They had carved their mark into the bark of Confidence. Still worse, Missy had all but given up. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. RJ, who had been away on a work assignment, called her frequently to encourage her. He helped her make it through the most difficult days. Before you know it, she was back in the garden working diligently to fix her garden.

Confidence and Faith are still not as strong as they once were, but they grow a little stronger every day. RJ still comes to help Missy in the garden. In fact, he moved in, so that he can be there to help Missy every day. RJ’s presence, his added love makes Missy’s garden just blossom. And while storms may come, Missy and RJ will be there to replant the seeds in the garden.
One beautiful summer day, when Missy’s garden was in full bloom, she and RJ stood on the balcony looking into the garden. It was if she were floating hand in hand over the garden she loved, and had for so long dreamed of, and the man she loved. And, just like that, he turned to her, and asked if he could tend her garden for the rest of their lives. She, beaming said that he could, if that was something that he could promise her he’d do.


The next spring, when all of the beautiful flowers began to peek from behind their green cloaks, RJ whispered something else. He told Missy, “Forever and ever, I do.” And, with that, Missy’s garden became home to RJ forever.
The End.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Black History Month: Great African American Leaders

Although February should not be the only time we remember our great African-American leaders, it is a time to remember to reflect on where we, as a great nation, come from. Reflection is important if we are to learn from our history and continue to progress. Below is a snippet of some of our great African-American leaders; some of whom you may know, some of whom it you may not:



Paul Cuffe(1759-1817)Paul Cuffe, a free black from Massachusetts, was a shipowner and advocate of sending free blacks voluntarily back to Africa. Cuffe's efforts helped encourage the American Colonization Society to found settlements in what was to become Liberia. Altogether, some 15,000 American blacks moved there during the colonization effort.



Richard Allen(1760-1831)Born a slave, Richard Allen began his career as a clergyman with the conversion of his master. Shrewd and hardworking, Allen bought his freedom and moved to Philadelphia. After being rebuffed at white churches, he formed an independent black Methodist church. In 1816, he became the first bishop of the African Methodist Episcopal Church, the first national organization of its kind. During this era, it was said, Allen's house was never shut "against the friendless, homeless, penniless fugitive from the house of bondage." Allen is also reported by his contemporaries to have had "greater influence upon the colored people of the North than any other man of his times."



Frederick Douglass(1817-1895)Born into slavery on a Maryland farm, Frederick Douglass became the foremost African-American abolitionist in the United States. At the age of 21, he escaped to Massachusetts where he become a lecturer for the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society.In 1847, Douglass founded a newspaper, The North Star, whose masthead read: "Right is of no sex -- Truth is of no color -- God is the Father of us all, and we are all Brethren."During the Civil War, Douglass recruited black regiments for the North and spoke eloquently for black suffrage and civil rights.



Sojourner Truth(Isabella) (1820-1883)Born a slave in New York, Sojourner Truth escaped just before the state abolished slavery. Becoming a preacher-prophet, she adopted the name "Sojourner Truth." By 1843, she began touring America denouncing slavery and championing equal rights for blacks and women before religious, abolitionist and women's organizations.Truth visited President Abraham Lincoln at the White House in 1864, then remained in Washington to help runaway slaves. Her last years were spent urging Congress to allocate land and money for freed blacks in the West.



Harriet Tubman(c. 1821-1913)Harriet Tubman was born a slave in Maryland. At age 25, she escaped to freedom. She was to become the most famous conductor on the "Underground Railroad," a secret network of hiding places where fugitive slaves found sanctuary on their way north. All told, she made 19 trips back to the South, helping more than 300 slaves escape to freedom.During the Civil War, Tubman worked for the Union as a nurse, a spy and a scout. At one time $40,000 was offered for her capture. Her later years were given to establishing an old-age home for impoverished blacks.



Booker T. Washington(1856-1915)Booker Taliferro Washington, the most influential African-American leader at the turn of the century was born a slave in Virginia and freed with the Emancipation Proclamation.In 1881, Washington became head of Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute in Alabama, where he advocated industrial and agricultural training for African-Americans. Under his leadership the school became one of the nation's leading black universities.After delivering his famous "Atlanta Compromise" speech in 1895, Washington was recognized as the chief spokesman for black Americans. Advocating the dignity of common labor, Washington steered blacks toward careers in agriculture, mechanics and domestic service. In 1900, Washington organized the National Negro Business league which emphasized skill, thrift an black capitalism.



W.E.B. Du Bois(1868-1963)A prominent author, editor and educator, William Edward Burghardt Du Bois obtained a doctorate from Harvard in 1895. In the course of his long career -- as editor of the Crisis, the magazine of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), sociology professor and lecturer -- Du Bois embraced such differing ideologies as equalitarian democracy, pan-Africanism, economic and cultural self-determinism, Marxism and socialism. Throughout his life, he remained a steadfast critic of a society which tolerated discrimination, and he advocated equal opportunity and education as the keys to black advancement. In 1961, at age 93, Du Bois moved to Ghana.



Ida B. Wells-Barnett(1869-1931)The demand for the arrest and punishment of lynchers -- white vigilantes who executed blacks became a major crusade at the turn of the century. An outstanding figure in this movement was Ida B. Wells-Barnett, who in 1895 compiled the first statistical pamphlet on lynching, The Red Record.Wells taught school in Memphis, Tennessee, until she became editor and part-owner of a newspaper, the Memphis Free Speech, which circulated throughout the Mississippi Delta. In 1892, after exposing those who had lynched three young black businessmen in Memphis, her offices were destroyed.Fleeing to Chicago, Wells married Ferdinand Barnett. Both became active in the National Equal Rights League.



A. Philip Randolph(1889-1979)Asa Philip Randolph was one of the most influential labor and civil rights leaders of the 20th century. In 1925, Randolph founded and was elected president of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, which fought a successful battle for recognition by the railroad companies.In 1941, Randolph threatened President Franklin D. Roosevelt with a mass march on Washington to protest the exclusion of blacks from jobs in defense industries. This led to the establishment of the federal Fair Employment Practices Committee. Randolph also encouraged President Harry S Truman to desegregate the military in 1948.As an elder statesman of the civil rights movement, he was a principal organizer of the March on Washington in 1963.



Roy Wilkins(1901-1981)Roy Wilkins joined the NAACP as assistant secretary in 1931 and became executive director in 1955. Wilkins and more than 700 others were jailed in the spring of 1963 after a mass demonstration against segregation in public facilities in Jackson, Mississippi.Early in his administration, President Lyndon B. Johnson conferred with black leaders, including Wilkins, to enlist support for the civil rights program begun under President John F. Kennedy.



Thurgood Marshall(1908-1993)Thurgood Marshall, the first African-American Supreme Court justice, attended Lincoln University in Pennsylvania and Howard University Law School in Washington, D.C. Admitted to the bar in 1933, he worked with the Baltimore, Maryland, branch of the NAACP and later established its Legal Defense Fund.As chief attorney for the NAACP, Marshall earned a reputation as an exceptional lawyer, winning 32 cases before the U.S. Supreme Court. Marshall's primary target was segregation in all its manifestations: interstate travel, housing laws, voting rights and education. The most celebrated of his victories, the landmark Brown v. the Topeka, Kansas Board of Education in 1954, ended legal segregation in public schools.Marshall was appointed to the U.S. Court of Appeals in 1962 by President Kennedy. He then became the first black to become solicitor general of the United States. In 1967, President Johnson named him the first black Supreme Court justice. He served until 1991, remaining an unceasing advocate for the equality of all Americans.



James Farmer(1920-1999)In 1942, James Farmer founded the Congress of Racial Equality (CORE) during a sit-in at a Chicago restaurant that refused to serve blacks. Farmer directed the organization toward nonviolent protest - sit-ins, boycotts, marches and Freedom Rides. These early demonstrations, protesting segregation in public facilities, were met with hostility and violence. By the 1950s, as a result of direct action by CORE and the NAACP, public facilities in the North opened to blacks.In 1961, Farmer traveled to Montgomery, Alabama, in support of a new round of Freedom Rides. Other civil rights leaders, including Martin Luther King Jr., joined the cause as it gathered momentum.Farmer resigned as national director of CORE in 1966 and turned to teaching. In 1998 he received the Presidential Medal of Freedom, the nation's highest civilian honor.



Whitney M. Young, Jr.(1921-1971)Following a distinguished career as a teacher, Whitney Moore Young Jr. was named executive director of the National Urban League in 1961. The league was formed in 1910 to improve the living conditions and employment opportunities for urban blacks.Young was one of the black leaders who advised President Johnson on the landmark Civil Rights Act of 1964. Young served on numerous private and federal commissions related to social welfare. Elements of his "domestic Marshall Plan" were incorporated in the federal antipoverty program during the 1960s.



Benjamin Hooks(1925- )Throughout his career Benjamin Hooks, a lawyer and ordained Baptist minister, has addressed a range of political, economic and social problems confronting African-Americans and other minorities. In 1965, he was appointed a Memphis Criminal Court judge.The first black to serve on the Federal Communications Commission (1972-1978), Hooks was instrumental in paving the way for blacks to own and operate radio and television stations.He was executive director of the NAACP, the nation's oldest civil rights organization from 1977 to 1993. He is chairman of the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, Tennessee.



Malcolm X(1925-1965)The life and philosophy of Malcolm X have profoundly influenced the thinking of black Americans. Born Malcolm Little, Malcolm X spent much of his childhood in foster homes and state institutions. Arrested at the age of 21, he was given a 10-year sentence. While in jail, he became interested in the Nation of Islam, the Black Muslim sect led by Elijah Muhammad, who advocated separation of the races. Paroled in 1952, he adopted the name Malcolm X, and became a leader of the Black Muslim movement.His eloquence drew a strong following but his popularity and forceful personality led to disputes and ultimately his expulsion from the movement in 1963. He then founded his own organization.Following a pilgrimage to Mecca, Malcolm modified his views and accepted the possibility of working with people of diverse ethnic backgrounds. He was assassinated in 1965 during a speech in New York City. Malcolm X's influence has grown since his death, largely through his autobiography and, most recently, a film.



Ralph Abernathy(1926-1990)Ralph Abernathy, Martin Luther King Jr.'s closest associate, was a prominent figure in the civil rights movement for three decades. In 1955, he helped organize the association to supervise a city-wide bus boycott in Montgomery, Alabama. following the arrest of Rosa Parks, who refused to give up her seat to a white passenger.In 1957, a group of Southern black ministers from 11 states met with King and Abernathy to establish the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), King was elected president and Abernathy, secretary-treasurer. Under their leadership. the SCLC organized nonviolent marches, sit-ins, boycotts, prayer pilgrimages and voter registration drives protesting segregation in the South. After King's death, Abernathy became president of the SCLC, heading it until 1973.



Andrew Young(1932- )Born in New Orleans, Louisiana, Andrew Jackson Young graduated from Howard University and later was ordained as a minister.While working on a voter-registration project, he met Martin Luther King Jr. and joined the SCLC where he became one of King's most trusted aides. He was active in desegregation campaigns in Birmingham, Alabama, and Chicago, Illinois, and in the 1963 March on Washington. Young became SCLC executive director in 1964 and, after King's death, executive vice president under Ralph Abernathy.Elected to Congress in 1972, he was reelected twice. President Jimmy Carter named him ambassador to the United Nations in 1977. In 1981, he was elected mayor of Atlanta and was reelected overwhelmingly in 1985. Young has been chairman of GoodWorks International, a consulting firm he co-founded, since 1997.



Colin Powell(1937- )Colin Powell became U.S. secretary of state, the first African-American to hold that position, in 2001. Prior to his appointment, he was the chairman of America's Promise -- The Alliance for Youth, a nonprofit organization dedicated to building the character and competence of young people.Powell was a soldier for 35 years and rose to the rank of four-star general. He served as assistant to the president for national security affairs and as chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, the highest position in the U.S. military, before his retirement in 1993. As chairman, he played a major role in the 1991 Persian Gulf War and in the restructuring of the U.S. military following the end of the Cold War.

Friday, January 09, 2009

Happy New Years!! A Resolution of Unity and Peace

Greetings! Happy New Year to everyone! I hope the new year has been great so far. As a new year's resolution, I would like to do better about keeping in touch with my friends and family. I am hoping to take the time to reconnect with old friends, make and enjoy new friends, and to bridge some gaps among family members. Life is about more than our careers, our titles, our perceived successes and failures or our possessions. Every moment is so precious. Truthfully, at the end of the day, all any of us really have as our own are the relationships with others and the legacies we leave behind.

As the subject indicates, I am in Mississippi. It's a temporary assignment for more training. I am doing well, I am happy for the moment. We all know how hard it is for me to keep still, so expect a new email with a new location soon!

Some of you I've spoken to in the last 10 minutes; others I haven't spoken to in 10 months. Either way, shoot me an email letting me know how you are doing and what's going on in your world! I wish you the best 2009 has to offer!!

Lots of Hugs and Kisses!

Doriannicole

Are you ready to FLY?

Harriet crawled so Frederick could write. Frederick wrote so Rosa could sit. Rosa sat so Martin could walk. Martin walked so Barack could run. Barack ran so we all can fly.
*********
20 Jan 2009, the inauguration of America's newest president, is indeed a day of monumental history, great pride and accomplishment for our nation. But, the story must continue. We must all do our part to ensure their lives were not in vain...Harriet, Fredrick, Rosa, Martin, and Barack did it so each of us, no matter our race, ethnicity, creed, sexuality, nationality or gender could carry on the legacy of an America in pursuit of freedom, happiness, and justice for all. Are you ready to take flight?

10 Ways to make a difference in your community:

1. Mentor a child or teenager.
2. Be a good role model, lead by example.
3. Donate time to charitable causes (money is not enough).
4. Contact your local political representative about key issues.
5. Sponsor a child to go to school. (Depending on grade level, this could be as simple as buying school supplies, uniforms, etc.)
6. Contact your local volunteer center for opportunities to serve.
7. Become an organ donor. Donate Blood.
8. Help a teacher grade papers. Make dinner for firefighters. Bake cookies for policemen.
9. Look for the good in ALL people and teach your children to do the same.
10. Think critically. Be willing to step outside the box. And love thy neighbor as you love yourself.

Thursday, November 06, 2008

An ObamaNation

Two days later, I still cannot adequately nor completely accurately express into words what the start of an "Obama-nation" means to me or to America. I have been thinking about what others are saying about his monumental and historical victory and decided to compile some of my thoughts:

1. Blacks all over the world should be proud of what Obama has accomplished.
Indeed they should be. We ALL should be proud of what WE have accomplished. Obama launched an awe inspiring campaign 21 months ago. But WE worked side by side, sending donations, volunteering to help, campaigning for him, telling our friends, registering people to vote, but most importantly, believing in a movement greater than ourselves. We must remember, AMERICA voted, not just Black people. It doesn't undermine the accomplishment nor its historical significance. It just to remind us to maintain and foster the unity we developed with each other over the course of this campaign.

2. We were afraid to take a chance, afraid to risk disappointment.
Whoo! That's powerful. I do think that so many of us were afraid to dream, afraid to take a chance, we were so afraid to hope that we have been since that fateful day in 1968 a rather silent people. For the most part, we had been conditioned into a state of complacency. A place where dreams were limited, goals short-term, and life surrounded by the walls of society's box. Yes, we've had the NAACP voicing concerns on the news, the LA riots of 1996, and we petitioned for Aminah Lewall. But, we have not sacrificed and fought for anything like we did this President. Failure would lead to disappointment, so we only attempted what we were sure would be possible. Obama attempted the impossible and succeeded! We are beginning to understand that dreams do come true. In essence, Barack Obama gave us the "Audacity to Hope." Amazing how Obama's book sums so eloquently this campaign.

3. This is important for the upcoming generations.
Actually, Obama's election is important to ALL generations. He inspires everyone, all nationalities, all socioeconomic statuses, all races, all professions. He inspires the old to dream one more time. He inspires the young to push to new heights. He inspires the nation to embrace its diversity and has proven that unity and diversity can coincide gracefully and powerfully. But, the greatest privilege he has given us is our new ability to encourage our children. We have expanded the horizons of their futures. Truly they can be whatever they want to be; we no longer have to shield them from the old perceived 'reality' that the 'world ain't ready for no Black...' We can do anything we put our hearts and minds to do.

4. Barack Obama is going to work primarily on behalf of other Black Americans
That's disappointing to hear. Seriously. Barack Obama won this election with a very sizeable margin. That means people of all colors joined him on his journey to the White House. Why would he just ignore such a massive group of people? Further, during the entire campaign, Obama has preached a message of unity and has demonstrated his desire to work for the country...not a group of people. He wants America to be free and open and truly live up to the Land of Opportunity. He's about creating jobs, repairing the economy, etc...not giving out 'hook ups' to other Black people. A claim like this just highlights the ignorance that still pervades this country.

5. Okay, so now that he's President (Elect), what happens next?
The journey just began. Getting to the White House was akin to finally getting into the car for a long road trip. There are still lots of ground to cover, especially in the next four years. WE must work together to support his initiatives, we must all do our part to help reduce our energy usage, keep our streets clean, take care of our children, support our educators, support our soldiers, etc. We keep working. Leadership requires followership. We are following his lead, learning valuable lessons. Already, during this campaign, we have had lessons on professionalism, the inevitability of hatership, resilience, perserverance, diplomacy, and honesty. In the next 4-8 years, I do believe that more of such lessons will be learned. Eventually, most in America will see the beauty of diversity.

The beautiful part of this election was not just that a Black man was elected President. But that this man has the ability to circumvent the negativity and replace it with new ideas. He educated us, he focused on us, and through his outstanding oratory abilities, he inspired us. He dared to dream, and his dream became a reality.

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

On Patriotism....

Patriotism is defined as "devoted love, support, and defense of one's country; national loyalty;" "love of country and willingness to sacrifice for it;" and "love of country; devotion to the welfare of one's country; the virtues and actions of a patriot; the passion which inspires one to serve one's country." Patriotism to me embodies an unconditional reciprocal relationship between one's country and one's spirit; a relationship in which both give for each other, each benefitting from the other; a relationship where the unique and diverse qualities and characteristic of both the individual and the nation are not only accepted but encouraged; a relationship in which the history of each one is an integral part to the history of the nation.
Both candidates for President of the United States have displayed unmistakable patriotism. Both have contributed significantly to the continued growth and development of our relatively young nation. Both have sacrificed many years, albeit through disparate journeys, for the causes of our country. Each have demanded and effected change within the systems, the hearts, the minds, and souls of America. And, for this, we should all be truly grateful.
John McCain served in the US military, fighting in one of the most gruesome wars in American history. He sacrificed much of his life to defend our nation, to save our soldiers, and to promote a positive change in our government. While some of his plans for America might have been contrary to my own personal beliefs, the immense effort and passion that he thrust behind them still managed to stir something within me. His story as a Prisoner of War (POW) is inspiring and serves as a great testament to John McCain's courage and selflessness. His service to the United States can never go unappreciated.
Barack Obama didn't follow the traditional military path. Instead, this great orator has appealed to the masses through their hearts. He has triggered a surge of deep patriotism that has not been felt to this extent in my lifetime.
Of course, after 9/11 everyone was temporarily patriotic. But, it was temporary. Most people resumed their lives, thinking about it as the media blasted it, but dismissing it during the commerical breaks. Some put up flags as a reminder of this country's greatness, some wore wrist bands, some wore lapel flag pins, some sent a donation to organizations that helped others. And, true indeed, some felt their lives changing as that second plane hit the World Trade Center towers. Some felt a sense of patriotism so strong that they left the security of their jobs to help restore America, some enlisted in the US Armed Forces, some took in displaced children. But still, the masses went profoundly unaffected. The effect of the blasts was superficial, shrouded in controversy, and filled with judgment of many: of our government, our President, our nation, and even our neighbors. In many situations, 9/11 caused such an intense fear, not patriotism, that the very diversity that makes this country great, was replaced with separatist hatred. Now, anyone resembling a Muslim, was a terrorist.
Now, Obama may never have served in the Armed Forces. But he has rolled up his sleeves to work in some of the most desperate neighborhoods in this country, making the point that wearing a uniform doesn't make you a patriot. It's not what you wear that defines you, it's who you are inside, as he explained when the media lambasted him for not wearing the 9/11 lapel pin. His patriotism is very deep and sincere and he won this election not just because he came up with an economic plan, but because he incited that patriotic spirit in the atoms of our nation. He reached out to the smallest part of our nation: each person. He, unlike anyone I've ever seen before, recognized the importance of each individual in the success of a nation. He recognized that WE must work to repair America, not just our elected officials. He started from the bottom and reached the "mountaintop" that Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke about.
Yes, we made history. We will see the first African-American President ever in America. That is awesome. But more awesome than the color of his skin, was his ability to move people to action. More people registered to vote than in any previous election. People were moved to see past color lines, past party lines, and beyond those things that divide us. Instead his campaign focused on all that made us America, all that united us. That's patriotism. Working from the bottom, devoting time, energy, love, money, and sacrificing for the welfare of America, and inspiring others to do the same is patriotism. He made this fight one for America. WE campaigned, WE sacrificed, WE devoted time, WE believed in something greated than "me," WE believed in US!
Now, WE must continue to work, to strive for change, to work together, to endure together, to make sacrifices, and to lend ourselves for America. Obama is the elected leader, but as such we must do our part to help him to help us be the US we can be. YES WE CAN!

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Beyond Aesthetics...

True beauty lies far below the superficial limitations of our visual cues; deeper than our skin complexions, beyond our hairstyles, beneath the layers of fabric (and their brands) we wear.

True intelligence is more profound than titles, roles, degrees. It cannot be measured by the number of books one has read or written. It cannot be determined by shear verbosity, aptitude, testing ability, or naif expertise.

True love is incomparable to anything human. It moves beyond our emotions, our thoughts, our ideas of romance, our notions of family and relationships. It extends past the confines of our imagination, past ourselves. It erases color lines, national boundaries, gang territories, denominations, religious affiliations, and other divisive institutions.

True beauty is the ability to see God in everyone else. When you see beauty in others in spite of their attitudes, dispositions, moral decisions, beliefs, skin color, hair texture, clothing preferences, sexuality, religious affiliations, etc., you choose to see the beauty of God's imagination. You see His creation. The awareness of frivolity of all of the minuscule details we spend our lives 'preventing' or 'lifting' or 'tucking' or 'covering' leads us to see the bigger picture. We see that God created us all in his image. No man inferior to another, rather each man necessary for the survival of the rest. No man walketh a path of life alone. He encounters at least one life, and with just the encounter, changes it.

True intelligence is the understanding that humans will never know it all. We will research and discover and add to our relatively small perception of the world we live in. We will develop schemes to accomplish great tasks, we will turn to doctors for medical advice; lawyers for legal advice. And yes, we can live and make smart and wise decisions; but, we will not uncover genuine intelligence as long as we think we already know what it is. The intelligence we too often forget about comes in the form of gifts, talents that God has given each of us. We value some more than others, but we shouldn't. Without each of these talents the world could not exist as it does, we would not be able to do the jobs we have. Intelligence comes in knowing that there is so much more to understand that stems from a Source far greater than the next laboratory.

And true love. True love is unconditional. It is everlasting and always forgiving. And no matter how many people think they have found it, true love is actually foreign to our world; instead of forgiving, we go to war. True loves says that 'because God made you, I will sacrifice my all for you.' It doesn't ask for your appreciation, a certificate of excellence, or a return of the favor. Just recognition of God's love for you. Human beings cannot love in complete truth. We can love with sincerity. We want to love with everything we have, and we do...but we do not live in complete truth for we cannot live in something which we continuously seek.

In our search for the Truth, we have traveled into places near and far, into other galaxies, onto other planets. But until we take a collective look inside of each one of us we won't find it. Truth lives in us. God is Truth and He resides in all of his creations. The superfluous truth that we live each day is never enough to sustain us. We are constantly searching for more, a greater truth, and more in depth truth, the real truth.... But we are looking to aesthetics to guide us, our brains to figure it out, our hearts to push our emotions, but we don't get to the depths of our own souls. We don't know who we are at our very core.

In learning who God is, we can gain true intelligence. God knows all. No need for a LSAT or GRE to prove that. In learning who God is, we can learn to see the beauty of all of His creations. We can learn to appreciate our earth and all of its inhabitants. And In learning who God is, we can experience the Greatest Love ever to exist. We already have the tools we need. We just need to start digging.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

This is you...

Your soul is an open wound, broken stitches, jagged edges. Wounded and repaired, wounded again. 'For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son....' and yet, he still left you? A soul struggling to hold on to its life. Clinging. . .

Your mind, filled with anger, bitterness, confusion, fear forms a brick wall surrounding your heart and soul. Because of what you know. More, though, because of what you don't know. Your mind searches for answers to questions you can't ask, he's not there to answer, or to which you just don't want to know the answers.

Your heart, though hardened by your life's losses, the disappointments, and the failures of love, is purified like a diamond in the midst of coal. Rare. Clear. Coveted. Valued. Flawless. Waiting to be rescued, waiting to love, waiting to signal your world that you are ready to take a chance. Waiting.

And your body; wanting, giving... makes love but fights wars, caresses yet defends, dancing to its own flavor of music, tasting-no, consuming life with exuberant passion.



This is you.



Moonlit nights, heated by your warmth replay themselves in my mind. Nights of passion, nights of trust... Indulgence.

The smell of your body, your cologne, your scent are refreshed every time I see you. I can remember what you smelled like, I can remember what you felt like...

The taste of your lips, almost as sweet as the words that emanate from them, cause my whole body to shudder with anticipation. Then, the feel of them on my neck, my chest, my breasts, my...

The feel of your strength, strong hands caressing my body, holding me steady, keeping me...guiding me. The strength of your body accepting mine, entering mine--giving me power.

This is you and me.

I cannot express what you do to me. I cannot tell you of my dreams, my fantasies. I cannot tell you that even without touching you, my thoughts betray my inhibitions. I cannot tell you of the ways my world changes for you, how your smile can renew my spirit. I cannot tell you of the place you made in my heart, that will be there even when we part. Ah, when we part...

Sadness, loneliness, heartache will come... I opened doors, moved walls and let you into places I probably will never let anyone again. We will go our separate ways and with me I will carry a precarious mixture of guilt, betrayal, love and lust... but I wouldn't change even one moment...

This is me.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

The Key

I can no longer listen to the tintinnabulations of the shackles and chains of my past. I have spent most of my life living in regret, shame and hopelessness. I have already wasted so much of my short life in tears because of what people stole from me.

For years, I have struggled to go nowhere, just anywhere away from the pain of my childhood, the misery of my rape, and the heartaches and suffering of my illness. I have once written that I was not just raped; I was raped and murdered. It was a massacre. My children were murdered. My family was killed. And my hopes and dreams, bludgeoned, beaten, kicked, stabbed, and fatally wounded. I thought God had forsaken me when Dr. Anjins diagnosed me with ovarian cancer. I thought I'd been left to walk the sands of the beach with only one set of footprints.

In reality though, my tears, my lack of focus, my inability to see my life beyond my own set of circumstances, prevented me from being able to see the truth of it all. Because I didn't see it, I thought it wasn't there. I can almost laugh at that notion now. The immaturity of my relationship with God, my shakiness in my faith, my inconsistency in my walk, led me to believe something I knew wasn't true.

How is it that we know that God is real, yet find ways to undermine His presence in our lives? I kept thinking: If God were real and true, then He would never have let these things happen to me. I would ask over and over why God let these things happen to me. Wasn't I a good person? Didn't I do what I was supposed to do?

Funny, because while I have shared my testimony with hundreds of people, learned to pray and meditate again, and truly reestablished my connection with God, I never really understood how God sees me and my circumstances; what His intentions for my life are--until now. Here's where I now stand:
In each level of both my life and my conscious searching for God, He has never
failed to provide me the things for which I fervently asked. He is the provider of
everything my heart could desire and my mind could conjure. There is nothing in this
world, this universe, that He did not create.
Things happened to me, yes. God never intended for my body to be permanently
scarred. He never pushed me into trouble, or even led me down the wrong road. I walked
down a road, I lacked faith, I lacked the spiritual weapons I should have had, I lacked the
vision. I asked God to help me to be closer to my mother. I asked God to bring me together
with my family. I asked God to use me to help other people.
And that's just what He did.
Now, here I am, a creature with emotions and feelings. But, unlike before, I walk in faith. I just step out. I pray, I meditate, I ask God for answers and they come. When they do, I listen. I joined the Air Force because I wanted to make a difference in the lives of others. I believe God heard that and has given me the opportunity to help other people reach their potential, to move past their obstacles, and come closer to him...without ever having done the job I came to the Air Force to do. The obstacles I have encountered just allowed me to find new routes, meet and encourage a new set of people, and share God's love in places I wouldn't have otherwise.
Moreover, God has led other people to me. I have attracted so many 'angels' that look out for me. There are people who come just when I need them the most, calls that come at just the right time, movies or books or speakers that say just what I need them to say, right when I need them to say it. God sends out others who have figured it out so that I can figure it out. My gratitude to have so many people, so much happiness come my way so often, is immeasurable.
The same holds true for all of the baggage to which I have been shackled and chained. God has blessed me with a new perspective. I have a different understanding of events in a person's life for which I have encouragement to share. I have been sent on another path because of those events of my past.
I don't believe you are what you experience, rather, you are the knowledge and the lessons you acquire from what you experience. Knowledge alone isn't power, the courage to apply the knowledge you have is powerful. The openness to reach to a higher source to find answers is powerful. To look within yourself and find that there is nothing you can't do, not because you are so great, but because God is in you, and HE is awesome beyond measure, is an awe inspiring moment. It is a moment so powerful, so overwhelming, that people seldom act on that new understanding.
I can no longer stand to hear the tinkles and chimes of the chains with which I am bound. God has no limitations, God is in me, therefore I have no limitations. Everything I am supposed to be, I am. In Him, I am perfect and true, beautiful in my own way. I don't have to be perfect by the world's standards. I am who I am, true to who I am, and thus perfect at being who God intended me to be.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

The Power of the Challenge


I believe in God. I believe in the power of prayer. I believe in love. I believe that every soul on this planet has a purpose; that no one is here serendipitously. I believe that no weapon formed against me shall prosper because I kept in His hands and no man is strong enough to defeat God's power.

I must admit that from time to time, I lose sight of this credence. I forget that I have a purpose and that I am exactly where I am because I am supposed to be at that precise moment. I forget that I have a purpose or that others have purposes in my life. I forget about the power of love...of God's love, of human love, and of self-love.

In my lifetime, I have faced a plethora of challenges. My faith has been tested and proven, time and time again. Each of these tests, some small and some huge, has worked to build the foundation of my faith. I have learned that you can claim to believe in something, you can claim to be faithful to something; but until that faith or belief is challenged, you cannot be sure of its validity and strength.

Nothing is considered factual without study. How do we know if a product works? We test it; with these tests we prove the validity of the claim that it works. Without these tests, the claims are just words without meaning. How do we know that a building is the tallest in the world? We measure it and compare its measurements with those of the rest of the world's buildings. The same holds true for our faith and beliefs.

Everyday, people say they love one another. New couples emerge and they say those three words. And they ask themselves, how do I know this is real? How do I know that he/she loves me? Am I sure that I love him/her? And then, that love is tested. And you know that its real because it endures. I am convinced that this is the reason that couples married for many years often say they love their spouse more today than they did when they got married. How many times has their love been tested in the span of the marriage? The more trials they endure, the stronger the love proves to be.

Every relationship we have works this way. The spiritual relationships, the human relationships, the relationship we have with ourselves, all work this way. To build on a relationship, one must endure tests and trials, to prevail in spite of storms that will certainly assay the strength of that bond.

So, through every test and challenge I experience, I learn to reexamine what I believe. My trials and challenges have proven that God exists, proven the power of prayer, the power of love, and that there is a purpose for everything under the sun... the greatest challenge is learning to let go and accept those purposes, accept love, and to learn to pray for more understanding.

Friday, July 25, 2008

What will I die for?

I once read a quote that said, "You can't know what you live for if you don't know what you'll die for." As I read that quote, a melange of ideas scattered my thoughts. Different themes danced around light heartedly as I, selfishly, thought about vanilla Oreo cookies and other supererogatory material goods. And then, as if God, Himself, were speaking to me, those thoughts suddenly vanished and an overpowering and inextricable set of emotions fell upon me.
In an instant, I thought about the firefighters who lost their lives in the 9/11 attacks. Those men and women who sacrificed themselves for the lives of others. They believed in those people they saved. They believed in the value of each life as the men and women of the trade towers were extracted from the building. They believed that each of those they saved had a purpose and would each make incalculable contributions to our nation. They believed this before the first plane ever took off from that airport. They believed in it the day they took their oath.
In my mind, examples of heroism began to deluge my mind, an irreversible cataclysm of faith. I realized that people do what they do everyday because they have faith in other people. I thought about Christa, my little seven-year-old hero, who with her precocious wisdom, brought me back to reality and, probably, ultimately saved my life. I thought about how much she believed in God's word and how she feared not anything this world could offer or take away. I thought about how, at seven years old, she knew that God had given her life and that in death, He would give her life anew. And she believed it so intently, that she was willing to die for it.
I thought about Jason, the Air Force medic who deployed with the Army six times to Iraq. I thought about how he never once complained when his tours were extended. How he worked through exhaustion, how he sacrificed his family to ensure that others kept their loved ones. I thought about his belief in that flag of 13 stripes and 50 stars, in that uniform and all that it represented, and in this nation, replete with imperfections yet still serving as a beacon of hope for millions around the world. I thought about the children not even born yet that he fought to protect. I thought about the families whose loved ones were kept alive by his heroism. I thought of the way he died in combat, with pride, honor and dignity. He died fighting for more than a victory, he died for what he believed in.
And now, I ask myself again what it is that I am willing to die for. I ask because knowing why I do what I do helps to keep me focused on the task. It helps me to understand that each day may not be easy, that no days may be easy, but that each day is worth it because whether with a hose, my words and prayers, or my m-16, I am a warrior. I am fighting for what I believe in. So today, with absolute certitude, I understand what I life for. I live for my family: my mother, my siblings, my nieces and nephews. I live for my neighborhoods: my students who fight everyday to survive the world. I live for my nation, replete with foibles at every level, but the only place I'd ever want to claim as my own. I live for my love of the human race. But most importantly. I live for God. Jesus died on the cross because He believed in me. What can I do to be worthy of that honor? I can never live to that standard.
As I was writing this, I thought of one more person: Wiline. Every email she has ever sent me summed up my entire understanding; everything I believe falls under the umbrella of the words written in the signature block of her messages to me:

For Christ I live, and for Christ I will die.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

To You, Mrs. Middleton

When she was born back in 1988, I had already established my position in the family as the baby. And when she came home and garnered all of the attention of our family and friends, I was bitter and filled with resentment. But as I have grown up, I started to see her with different lenses.

When she was two years old, she watched THE LITTLE MERMAID no less than a thousand times (I'm not really exaggerating in that number). To this day, we quote the movie at every swimming event...and sometimes in completely dry situations. She demanded and drank so much apple juice that I now can barely tolerate the smell of Mott's Apple Juice. I, in my adult life, have NEVER bought apple juice for my household. Thank you, Briana. This is the little girl who screamed and danced in horror at the mere mention of 'ants' or 'ghosts'...she still does...(I'm mischievously smirking now as I type this.)

She was always a princess, beautiful, demanding, mean, and spoiled rotten. I have pictures of her pouting from day one. Smart, learning to spell with music (we should've known then)..."S-L-E-E-P-Y, Sleepy!" she would sing. Then it was her name, then more complicated stuff.... I remember Mommy used to spell EVERYTHING, and I remember the day Briana decided she knew how to spell McDonald's...my mom was stunned. We still tried to spell stuff, but the little slickster understood us anyway...

She knew how to cry and manipulate anyone into having her way. And, as bratty as she was sometimes, I learned early on how sweet and special she is. I hated that she copied everything I did, said, suffered through, wore...now, I see her affection and the flattery she intended in those days. I know how much she respects who we are and yearns to learn all that she can. Her goofy jokes, her sensitivities, her sweet hugs, her warm emails, her loud messages through someone else's phone calls; all serve to show just how special she really is.

I remember telling someone she was 13...and then realized she was 13 three or four years prior! I couldn't believe she was growing up so fast. And now, as I sit here and look at her, I see something completely new. I see this beautiful rose bush whose thorns and thick branches sometimes start trouble at home, but whose awesome delicate flowers overshadow everything else. The buds of her flowers still haven't opened all the way, but they are as bright and ready as any other of God's creations.

I still can't believe she is grown. I still can't believe she is married. I still can't believe how God has blessed us all by her very existence. The sibling rivalries, the trifling and petty arguments and my extreme aversion to apple juice, have all been necessary to all of us. We are who we are today because of them. But, the overwhelming pride I have in her, the unyielding and unconditional love I have for her, the deep respect I have for her and what she is accomplishing, and the great adoration I have for her as my sister are sentiments I am now sharing with her, voluntarily. (Let's not talk about sharing as siblings...lol)

I hope to one day soon follow in her footsteps down that aisle. I hope to be as confident, as beautiful, as ready, as open-minded and as in love as she is right now. Life is short. (Briana may be a little shorter...hey, I am still the big sister!) But, in the two decades we've shared on this planet, I have learned a lot from her. She makes me want to be a better example for her. She pushes me when I need a nudge here and there. She yells through the phone that she loves me, and counts and cherishes each minute I spend with her.
** ** ** ** **
Breezy, I love who you are, and I am excited about who you are becoming. Don't forget to pray and ask for guidance. And know, that for the rest of our lives, you can always count on me. I am proud of the young woman you are. Continue in your diligence, be as good of a wife as you have been a little sister. I love you little one!

Friday, July 04, 2008

Exactly Where I Am...

If there is nothing else that this past year has taught me, it has shown me innumerable times how God has a plan that trumps any plans I can make for myself. With this, there is no possibility that I can be in a place that I should not be.

I pray daily for God to order my steps. I pray for direction and purpose. God answers my prayers everytime. I just don't always like His answer. Sometimes, He allows me to move as I'd planned. However, as soon as my plans aren't aligned with His, He makes modifications.

So, now, I am still here in Texas, upset about not being able to leave and go on to do more training. But each day, I am learning alot about how my presence is needed here. I am able to have relationships that I would probably have never had if I hadn't stepped exactly how I did...if I weren't exactly where I am.

Faith is praying for it, and moving knowing that it will come to pass. Well, I pray for guidance, direction and purpose for each step. God, knowing all, responds and sets up my journey as I manuver my way through various obstacles. I know that the obstacles I face strengthen me and my faith and serve to guide me onto other paths.

So, instead of spending the remainder of my time, lamenting about all of the things I could be doing, or that I should be doing, I am going to take the time to thank God for allowing me to do the things that I find myself doing at that moment. I am going to pray that He continues to order my steps and that I find peace within my situation.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

Love: How do you know it's real?

Real love doesn't come everyday. As a person who has just begun to find out what that even means, I am no expert in defining the constraints that permit us to categorize our feelings and emotions under such a title. In fact, I don't think real love is solely emotions or feelings. While those may be the more tangible facets of this phenomenon, it is becoming more clear to me that other aspects present themselves more conspicuously and much less confusingly.

In my own case, I have loved before. I have really felt for someone a kind of love that until now, I thought to be 'real love.' It was. In it's own way... I cared deeply for people. I still care deeply.
But this that I feel now goes further. Much further.

Now, I pray every night that God never let this person walk out of my life. I ask God to make me a better person and to prepare me to be for him what he needs me to be. I ask God to direct my path to follow His will and to help me to be the Christian woman this man deserves. I walk in faith. I cannot give up even when I think I can't take anymore. I walk...blindly into our future. I cannot make decisions without him. The two most important figures in my life are God and my man...even when it seems that neither is present.

I have tried to walk away...but my heart is threaded to his. I am in love with him. I am in love with Him. Both love me. Both speak to my heart. Both amaze me everyday. And I am blessed. One blessed me with the other. The other helps me to look to Him. It's a circle, a cycle of life, and love. And I feel that with both, anything is possible.