Let us reason together

Was that me?

2011-05-21T08:48:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted to this site in a long time. A very long time. It's been two years, in fact. Last night I scurried to post something new just to make things fresher.

January 2009 I wrote about being a single Christian black female. I was 28 then. I'm still a a single Christian black female. But my ramblings might be different now than they were then, and that has me tempted to do away with that post, somehow. Because I'm embarrassed of what i thought, what I expressed.

How silly.

We learn, we grow, we change, by the grace of God, really.

I'm sure those who know me know this. I'm not who I was January of 2009. Experience and time makes a difference. And our God does not leave us as we are. So I trust I won't be as I am in January 2013.
If you keep reading, I hope you'll see my progress, even amid the mistakes I make along the way.

In the meantime, I won't and can't hide any immaturity or weaknesses from 2009 or 2005 or 2010. It reflects my humanity, demonstrates my need for God and allows me to take a good look at what He's done and is doing.

You're welcome to look too.

Truth and a Teenage Girl

2011-05-20T17:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes children shame me. The simplicity of their wisdom socks me in my belly. And my face is laying before me on the ground.

A 13 year old girl I work with managed to do so today. She was surprisingly pleasant and cooperative. Somehow I managed to select an activity that she attacked eagerly and enthusiastically. I was too relieved to be excited; that would have been an emotional leap.

After we finished our first activity she sat down to complete the next and launched seamlessly into a narration of the previous day's events as if I'd asked her to. As if we were old friends. But I know not to dismiss such opportunities. They don't come around everyday. Sometimes it seems like she's annoyed that I'm there, that I even exist. So today I listened.

The story was a *typical* teenage one: “these girls tried to fight me for no reason, just becausesomeonesaidIsaidsomethingabouttheothergirlonfacebook. But honestly, I wasn't even on facebook that night”, etc. I nod. I empathize. I say “mmmm”.

So she's confronted by these girls because they were misinformed. And because they're young, immature and completely lacking the skills required to resolve their issues (or non-issues).

Fortunately a teacher intervened, the battle was averted and my young friend ended the day resolving that there was nothing she could do about those girls. All she could do was write about it in her journal and pray over it. That's all.

I was stunned though I tried to conceal to what extent. But I praised her for that response. I told her it was very wise and that I need to do more of that myself.

There's not much more to say about this story; it makes its own point. Except to say that God loves to use this kind of irony in our lives; obviously I'm the adult and my job is to help this girl become a better reader. I've made it my goal to help her think critically and express herself intelligently. I lecture her about these things. I make her do what she doesn't feel like doing. I deal with her moods and resistant posture. Yet, from her young, developing self, she reminded me of a truth that I, the adult, am so quick to forget, to repress.

I desperately need to pause, reflect and pray over what overwhelms me. So let me pick my face up off the ground and get to it.

Life with the single christian female who dances between frustration and contentment

2009-01-25T17:52:00.000-08:00

The title is rather long, but isn't it appropriate? If you fit in this category can't you identify? If not, I'm sorry.

I find myself dancing between these two on a daily, even hourly basis. I am honest and truthful if in the morning I say, " I feel content and i love my life". And then later in the day say "I am frustrated and want to go on a date", but then later in the midnight hour I yell, "I'm tired of meeting men who are absolutely out of the question and I can't take it anymore and I want to be in a bubble. Better yet, send me to a nunnery". All of these are true and honest and real.

It's an interesting tension, a weird place to live sometimes.

The frustration of meeting a whole rack of men who have no potential is one i hesitate to express. Before moving to the DC area, i lived in Orlando where the options were severely limited. I couldn't pay someone to look at me and my crazy nappy hair ... unless I was around the island men. They were refreshing. But I couldn't stay in the West Indian grocery store all day everyday.

Generally, Orlando was a tough place. We could never find the professional black people. They were hiding and did not come out. Now that I'm in chocolate city, I haven't had too much trouble meeting people (people = men). Even as I write this, I'm sitting in the mecca of educated black folk', a restaurant called "Busboys and Poets" a name inspired by poet Langston Hughes. Yeah, real black and authentic. You like that, right? This is no Orlando. So I cannot complain.

But the reality is, it's still kind of rough for us Christian gals. Of the men I've met since I've been here, one was a Christian. And as much as I like meeting new people and want to go to professional networking functions, new chill spots, etc, I'm kind of unoptimistic at times. I don't want to say pessimistic, because I don't think it's that. I'm just not extra eager, like "ooooh wee, can't wait to check out those prospects". Why? Honestly, one of my issues is my...self awareness? I know what I'm looking for. I don't think it's much... but I know what it is, and I'm not keen on the idea of relenting, like "oh well, never mind. Come on brutha, you'll do" just because this type of guy is hard to find. I mean, are we Christian women expected to be generalists? Are we to just ensure someone meets the basic requirements, and then deal with whatever else we get? Bah humbug! I hate that idea. But it's rough out there when you actually want someone with specific qualities and attributes. And I'm not talking about height, shade of skin, occupation... no. I'm talking about core values. Whatever, I'm ranting now and you're losing interest.

But you know, underlying this and numerous other questions is a bigger issue: I really believe I didn't have nearly enough convos about this "stuff" before I turned like 27. There were some discussions, but I don't know that they were real and practical enough for me. What "stuff" am i referring to, you ask? I'm glad you inquired. Here are some of the hot topics floating the airwaves between myself and my buddy buddy friends:

Can someone help a sister know how she should actually live and make maximum use out of her unmarried days and years? We're always told by married women that we should take advantage of these times and the chance to serve the Lord without distraction, but not really coached through it. I feel strongly about this ... I agree that we should maximize every moment and want to encourage girls even younger than I to do the same, partly b/c I don't feel I had that myself. I had a girl say that looking at a few of the older unmarried women she knows made her feel there was no hope. I thought, oh nooo! she shouldn't feel that! I tried to reassure her, I do not feel hopeless at all, which is true. I love my life, I have wonderful friends, God has blessed me placing amazing people in my life, I have had so many opportunities to serve, travel, do ministry and just have a lot of fun. We need to live a full, active life in front of these girls. They need to see that. But what does it look like for us to embrace the beauty of this season, as hard as it can be at times? And how do we cope with the hard times? Fortunately, I've had the tough love of Elisabeth Eliot to coach me along from a distance, but I could use more practical, close by help.

How should a woman even approach the man search? I don't think we should be passive, but what does active, yet not pursuing and pushy look like, practically? Does that primarily involve preparing ourselves for marriage? Does it mean asking others to pray, or to keep their eyes open on our behalf? Or just remaining active, serving the Lord and keeping our own eyes open? Should we make sure to throw ourselves in the path of eligible Christian men and wear alluring, yet non-sensual perfume? (i'm kidding with that. What is non-sensual perfume? They all have sexy names and ads now. I feel like i'm sinning just by stopping by their counters in Macy's)

And another thing! Why should we want to get married? I'm talking from a real, Biblical perspective. It might sound odd, but I mean really, sometimes I think I just want to get married so I can get physical affection without any shame or guilt, without having to call my friends the next day to confess. Don't act like you don't know. And I don't necessarily think that's wrong. But marriage is more than touching. I find that my reasons for wanting to get married differ from other women and this has a huge impact on the kind of guy I feel like I must have. Some women just need a good Christian man who they can raise a family with, raise godly little babies, serve in their church, etc. But me and my overzealous self want to change the world with my man. I must add that raising godly babies and supporting your husband is a way to change the world. Absolutely. But i'm thinking about specific areas, specific social passions, a specific missional calling. So I end up turning down some good-behind men b/c they are not passionate about making an impact on the world in the way that I am. Does this sound crazy? I'm sorry. That's what it is, man. And I've always been this way. Aside from my specific preferences, my point is, how do we get down to why it is we want to get married or what the right reasons are and thus how we should select someone? Should we de-prioritize our specific "calling" or life mission and just focus on being with a godly man we can be a help to? Or do we look for someone who's mission is aligned with ours who we can help and be all the more effective with? A partner, as it were?

And... at times it seems that people act like we single women are just in unmarried purgatory. Like we're not in a real, significant season of life with some amazing contributions to make, like the most important next step in life is getting married. It's like they forget about I Cor 7. How can we deal with and prevent that? Is there a way we can live more intentionally, and be a resource to one another as we all endeavor to do the same, without being dishonest about wanting a man, without shutting off that part of ourselves, but not allowing our status to be diminished?

These are just some of my ramblings; honestly, the questions go on and on and it don't stop. I'm sure you have some to add. We are occupying a different space than many women from the generations before us. We have more education, opportunities, opinions, and ambitions. Times are not so simple, and thus our questions are many, so let's ask them. I'll probably still dance between contentment and frustration until Jesus comes back, but at least I'm not dancing alone.

the tunnel

2008-12-08T14:12:00.000-08:00

Don't you love when someone says to look forward to the light at the end of the tunnel?
I don't actually know if any of my friends have ever said that. Maybe it's because the statement is so cliche and trite, and not very comforting. Of late, i've come to resent that statement a lot. What exactly is the tunnel I'm looking through? My present issue or life altogether?
If it's my present issue, I'm not comforted because i know another tunnel is just past the light at the end of this one. I can even see it now. If it's life altogether, I'm still not that comforted. Are you telling me i have to wait for perhaps 70 more years to get to the "light"? And what is the "light" exactly? Clarity, or just an end to the sadness?
Who came up with this expression???
I'm being very contrary.

So I will relent a little. I do not spit on the expression's sentiments completely. I think there is some truth in it. However, i just don't fnd it very comforting. How long do i have to wait for this stupid light? So I was wondering, as Christians, might our experience be slightly different? Maybe we not only have this "end of the tunnel" experience, but also a "light in the tunnel" experience....maybe? Maybe Christ comes into the tunnel with us, lights it up, makes it less damp and dark and cold and dreary and depressing and devastating... and then we come out and He's still there! We can't escape the tunnels. There is no alternate route. And I don't like tunnels. But at least we don't have to walk through them blindly and alone.

Interrupting me

2008-10-12T23:10:00.000-07:00

Generally, I’m content to busy myself with life. I like my life. I shall explain all the wondrousness that surrounds my little existence:

I live for projects and have always been an idea factory. They are produced faster and more abundantly than they can be executed. And I can live with that. The exercise of thinking about them is sufficient. If it wouldn’t seem odd to name “coming with ideas” as a hobby, I would put that on every questionnaire that inquires.
I love people and I’m surrounded by people who love me. And I’m very grateful. I thank God often for the people He has placed in my life; I feel ridiculously blessed for having them.
I actually like my job, though I think it threatens to kill me; every day I step through the door, there is a sense of impending doom. “This is the day the tasks and the child-fatigue will get the best of me.”

Ok, the point is, all of this makes me feel full; I actually really enjoy my life, though I’m busy and broke. That’s a bad combination.

But, occasionally this lovely balance is interrupted by the entrance of unexpected figures. The male kind. And it’s hard to explain what happens. Everything doesn’t change, but the addition is not like one of a new hobby that I really like, or a new buddy buddy friend who loves to dance, or even a new restaurant with a band that plays fire Caribbean and African music with sweet guitar rhythms and a nice bass line. (that was a tangent. But that’s just something I really, really would enjoy). It’s a different kind of niceness.

[random shift to speaking in the 2nd person] All of a sudden, this man has decided, by no prompting on your part (in some cases. In other cases, he was been prompted by very clever, calculated, yet subversive prompting on your part) that you will be the object of his attention, and proceeds to shower you with sweetness. This is not like getting a banging outfit on clearance at a high-end store. And that’s, like, a really good feeling. But this is in a category of its own. He is now expressing concern for your well being, caring about your needs and even wants to take care of them (when he can), and looks at you like you’re all he sees; everyone else is scenery, but you’re the subject of the picture. What makes a man do this? What a departure from normal maleness. I can’t get over it.

And when it happens, it’s not just flattering. I realize I’m getting an amazing gift from someone that I didn’t earn. And of course I want to reciprocate, but I don’t think what I give him quite matches what he’s given me. This man sees me and is choosing to invest time, energy, and emotions in me; he is taking a risk (because you know we don’t appreciate every man who comes along. We’re risky business, us females) because he's decided I’m worth it. I’m not talking about superficial “tryin to holla” type stuff. He’s made a decision, one I can only believe reflects the imprint of God on the hearts of men. I take not one phone call, outing, compliment, or even misguided piece of advice he gives for granted. I know his heart is in it, and I’m grateful he’s extended it to me.

Am I asking too much?

2008-05-26T21:14:00.000-07:00

I’m at Starbucks, wasting my money and supposedly doing my lesson plans. I’ve been distracted by a number of things, not the least and most disturbing of which was a girl who walked in wearing only underwear. Ok, I exaggerate, but she was wearing a thin tank top, revealing … a lot, and a little pair of shorts that were practically underwear. She was going for maximum exposure. And there was a man sitting near me who was clearly captivated. And I gave him some sympathy – I mean, when she stepped out, she knew her ensemble was an attention grabber. But the sympathy ended when the man made no attempt to look away. He just kept looking back with absolutely no shame. He would look at his computer, then look back and stare at her panty. And I was getting annoyed – but not sure where to direct my disapproval.

I’m still not sure. I mean, I believe it’s justified disapproval (righteous indignation, if you will) because what really distressed me was the blatant lust neither of them made any attempt to conceal: his for her body, her for the attention. How do I know this was her desire? Trust me, I’m a woman. I know how we do. We deceive ourselves with thinly veiled justifications like – “oh it’s just so hot, that’s why I can’t wear any clothes today. Or, oh I just like looking good when I go out. I work hard to get this body. It makes me feel good about myself. That’s all”. Whatever. The heart of man – and woman—is desperately wicked. Do we even know what lurks down there? Hmph.

I do think this kind of thing should distress us a Christ followers – but usually my distress morphs into judgment and cussing people out silently. Then I have to repent. And then I have to pray for them. In the end, they’re both victims. I was wondering about that man, thinking, can he even stop himself? I’m not a man, but I can imagine it must be excruciatingly difficult for some men not to look at have naked women. I wanted to ask him, “I’ve noticed you stare at the backside of every woman who walks in the door. Do you feel you have no control over the gaze of your eyes and the impulses of your body? Would you like to learn how you can master your flesh rather than it mastering you?” But I knew that wouldn’t go over well. So instead I brooded about it. But isn’t that it, after all? The flesh indeed is a beast. What choice does this man have? Am I asking too much to expect him to exert some control? Maybe.

Then I thought about the men I do know, the ones with integrity, ones like my own biological brother and numerable other brothers in the Faith who’ve made a covenant with their eyes like Job not to look lustfully on a young lady. Their number one allegiance is not to their flesh but to their God. They are not controlled by their bodies but by the indwelling Holy Spirit. I like them. We need more of them around. Instead of cussing them out when a scantily clad lady passes, I am sooo happy b/c I notice how they deliberately won’t even look in her direction. That’s what I like; it makes me want to dance around, or throw them a parade, some kind of celebration in their honor.

So it’s not too much to ask. It’s very possible… for the redeemed. We need more of them, good men. Men who’ve met the Master.

And maybe we should introduce Him to the unacquainted.

Everybody take a jump!

2008-05-26T21:00:00.000-07:00

My body is still aching because yesterday I was in the road jammin’ and jumping up behind a band. If you know Caribbean culture, you know I’m referring to Carnival – and if you know me, you should be wondering what I was doing jammin’ and jumping up behind a band.
Carnival is one of the biggest expressions of Caribbean culture. It’s a celebration full of color, music, excitement…. and revelry and drinking and wining and grinding. A lot of “rudeness” as island people say.

If you’re not still wondering what I was doing there….

The celebration is such that most Christians want to stay away, and understandably so. It’s not really a place where Christ is welcome. Yet on Sunday, a group of people in Orlando sponsored a Christian “band” (group that takes part in the carnival parade). We had our own truck, a DJ playing gospel reggae and soca, and costumes that reflected our theme, “The Fight of Our Lives”. We tried to rep Christ to the fullest in amid darkness. As one pastor stated, we were the one drop of water in a bucket of dirt.

We did our best to mix things up and we were distinct. Like others we were singing, dancing, blowing whistles. But there was no wining, or skimpy costumes, or men from our group grinding on random women ….and we were giving out tracts. But it’s true. We were but a drop in the dirty bucket and you wonder if we really made a difference.

I ask myself, what’s our job, really? Maybe our part is to rep Christ in the culture, to be a display of “holy culture”, to shine a light in the midst of darkness and to reclaim our culture. There are many who equate the revelry, the wild behavior and lewd dancing to “Caribbean culture” and represent it proudly. And while the love for celebration and dancing is intrinsic to the culture, those other aspects are distortions of it, expressions of man’s sinful nature and the enemy’s cunning.

Is it possible to have a Caribbean celebration, full of the joyful expression, the loudness, the music, the color and the dancing… without the nastiness? I think so and that’s part of what we were there to display.

I left convinced that we must do this again. We need to rep Christ to our culture more often, rather than retreating from these events. How that looks in the future, I’m not sure. Should we be in the parade or hold our own outreach near the carnival grounds (like His Majesty Sound System in the U.K). Maybe we need to have Christian Caribbean festivals. Whatever. But sitting back and watching the enemy hijack my culture is not really an option for me. I don’t appreciate being forced to have my little soca dance parties… in my room. Jumping and waving alone is no fun. Besides, we actually have something to celebrate. We know Jesus. We know freedom. Why aren’t we the ones jumping and waving our rags in public?

All I know is I plan on jumping and waving for Jesus when I see Him, so I figure I can get some practice now. You can sit and watch if you want.

Sons and fathers

2007-10-25T16:55:00.000-07:00

I have a third grade class full of little boys, soon young men, who are taking me to the end of my rope. Yesterday, one of their mother's came in to speak with me about him. Apparently, she's tired of his behavior; at every school, he goes through stress with the teachers about him.
As she was sitting and talking to myself and the boy, I was looking at his face and it dawned on me --- he needs a father. Not much of a revelation, I guess. But I take for granted what a difference this makes. The mother can only do so much.
Several of my students' mothers will work with me on helping modify their boys behavior. But somehow, i can tell that at times their words don't stick. Boys need men.
We praise and celebrate the hard work of single mothers, and rightly so. But unfortunately, sometimes we minimize the crucial role of fathers. I know, almost without a doubt, that these boys' lives would be dramatically different if fathers or other positively influential men were involved.
That's all i can say about this at the moment. But I'll have other thoughts soon. Some might argue with me a bit. I can only say what I've seen.

the Evil in me

2007-09-11T23:14:00.000-07:00

The U.S is an interesting place. I've never noticed it's affinity for pluralism so much as when i returned from Ghana. The society is generally more conservative. This can present challenges, but coming from "Any thing goes America", at times it was comforting.
I found myself frustrated with things in the states, the vulgarity and defaming of sexuality in all its forms on every media outlet possible... I could name other "things" that fueled the fire of my frustrations, but that was probably my number one foe. My goodness. I remember catching a glimpse of BET for the first time in 5 and a half weeks, and I almost fainted.
Needless to say, I found myself wanting to run, far far away from the obvious insanity that has taken over in this nation.
But then i realized ... I can't escape.
I can easily recognize the evil that's so obvious in the world around me, but what about the world inside me? That's not always a pretty place.

GK Chesterton's words were so right. I am what's wrong with the world.

I can run far far far away, but my foe will be right at my heels ... like my shadow.

I realized that a fallen flawed world full of fallen flawed people will inevitably produced more flawed fallenness.

Wherever I run, if i don't encounter some form of wickedness, not to worry, I've brought it with me and can break it out anytime I turn off the Christ control.

It's true: you can run, but you can't hide.

Thank God for Jesus.

Eden calls (I've been thinking about evil...I)

2007-06-13T14:10:00.000-07:00

I think Eden calls like a lost love whose voice
We still recall.
Her words are a song, comforting and melodic and sweeter than time.
Sometimes she whispers, sometimes she screams
And we don’t know where she calls from.
But we search frantically, each day more than the next
It’s obvious in our peace protests
The causes we take up with passion, purpose and self righteous piety
Demanding, “how can humanity turn its back
On this or that/ they or them/ she or he?”

Something in our hearts tells us that what we see is wrong…
And we become angry and indignant, so we fight
To bring about what we believe is right, to restore a small piece of the world
to how it should be.

It might take the face of “operation this” or “benefit concert for them”, or “project such and such”
It’s instruments: picket signs, goodwill trucks, ready hands, strong voices

Ready to suppress the might of the “enemies”: today the greedy, tomorrow the rich, perhaps the powerful or materialistic, the oppressors.

But who ever defined or showed us what “should” is? Would we know the restorative place if happened upon it through all our efforts?
What tells us to fight?
It’s so commonplace that we never ask the question, pre-supposing that it’s justified.
On the basis of what?

We don’t even realize we are yearning to be reunited with Eden, our love.

We have forgotten her face
But we remember her beauty.

Weak

2007-06-06T14:45:00.000-07:00

I am not strong enough to withstand the lows.
like a frail and fragile piece of art
always just this close to destruction.
The slightest tap can push me over the edge
A sensitive child,
tears wait in their ducts ready to
burst forth like a flood
(I've mastered the skill of holding them back,
building dams, fortifying their walls).
A flower on the side of the road
blooming in the wild
who loves the colors she bears
soaking up the rain, swaying in the breeze,
but will faint at the first sign of intense conditions.

I'm all of these
And in all my frailty, you see,
it's impossible for me to survive this life
of highs and lows
harsh weather and harsh tones
hateful glances from sharp eyes.
A delicate soul in a shell of dust;
how could i keep from crumbling
If He did not know me,
the day and the way I was made?

Because He remembers me
I won't break.

Ps 103: 14 - 16

2007-05-30T16:20:00.000-07:00

I've discovered that the term progressive
has come to be synonymous with pluralistic thought
And naturally, forward thinking is all inclusive
without discrimination
thus truth requires no qualifications.
A falsehood is only that which brings discomfort to the mind and body
"Follow your heart and seek your pleasure alone":
The directions to a land of more unanswered questions
with no investigation into the benefit of this type of "progress"
Because that would be judgmental
with a preference for the open ended, answers become restrictive
and we don't want them.
So we have a land full of open-minded,
Forward thinkers who believe in no absolutes (save their pluralism)
And I've been looking around at the culture and thinking
that it's come to resemble an expanding
Ball of rubber bands that is comfortably accommodating
Yet increasingly unstable, bouncing from here to there
Could unravel at any time
And everyone wonders as to it's purpose.
We have progressed, but no one is fulfilled
Because there is a quiet that follows the frenzy of the
Submission to every fleshly fancy.
I've heard that deafening silence and devoid of peace,
unsettled beyond soothing.
It longs for an answer.