My aching head...

Blurred vision, crossed eyes, reading glasses, computers, software, hardware, CPU’s, RAM, CRM, DSS, all these things have meaning in my computer science class but what they mean to me is a huge headache. We have five weeks to master this stuff and that’s asking a lot on top of work, home and any miscellaneous activities one might have going on. We have weekly papers, multiple chapters to read, questions to answer, a mid-term and final exam and a case study to crank out during that time. Holy cow!

I thought this class would be a breeze but it has turned into one of my busiest ones yet. The only cool thing is that the professor is pretty laid back and gives us latitude. I’m hoping he’ll cut us some slack as he reviews the requirements for our case studies this week. That is my biggest concern.

I’ve mapped out my exams and feel comfortable about them and well, reading is reading. Either it will sink in or it won’t but I can’t force it. One of the joys of being older is you already know what your limitations are and so you don’t get hung up on them but try to find work-arounds like extensive note taking or asking lots of questions so that he actually tells you what you need to know without you having to chase around your elbow to get the answer.

Anyone know the key information that should be included on a CEO’s dashboard?

Sigh, I’m going to be a pro by the time this class is over. I think.

Welcome Baby Nivea!

Welcome to the world little one. There is so much for you to see and learn. I can hardly contain the joy I feel in my heart over your birth. You have so many people that are excited to have you here; that want to love on you and see you succeed in this life. We are blessed to have you as part of our family. Thank you for choosing us!

The essay from hell

I started back to school several months ago with a great deal of excitement and apprehension. Did I really have what it takes? Could I hold my own? How would I handle the extra work? Three classes down and I feel like my worries were all in vain. After the first class, everything fell into place beautifully and it has all been good. That is up until now. I am taking what I thought would be my easiest class when in reality it has been my hardest. Music appreciation has thrown me a curve ball. I LOVE music, all kinds of music and get a great deal out of listening to the different varieties. This class was supposed to be a walk in the park for me because of that except it has not been. I have learned very little in this class and have struggled to get that.

Our professor is over our heads. Way too smart and unable to keep a train of thought to completion. We go off on tangents that look like a roadmap across the country plotted out by a child. Syllabus be damned.

Mind you, this is a five-week class so how hard can it be. Well after the first three weeks with nothing but 100s of pages of reading and listening to CDs, we get our only assignment of the class. We have to write an essay of a minimum of two pages regarding something that I can summarize in two paragraphs. Easy for me since I write all the time one would think but such is not the case. This cannot be fluff, it has to be scholarly, and it cannot be paraphrased or filled with citations he wants it in our own words. OMG! How did I get into this predicament? Half a dozen rewrites later I am finally at two pages with one cite. I cannot read this paper again or try my hand at flushing it out any more than I have. My head hurts just thinking about all that I have gone through to get it to where it is today. Will it pass, yes, am I happy with it, no. A well thought out paper requires more than one week writing it especially when you have work, life, required reading, and listening to do on top of researching the paper.

So I ask all of you scholarly musical geniuses, what is the role of the conductor?

Grieving

Grieving is to feel or show grief over. Grief is deep mental anguish, as that arising from bereavement.

One would assume that I spent this past year grieving the death of my father and two uncles and while I wish this were true, it is not. There are five stages of grief, which are denial/isolation, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

I have gone through two of these emotions, depression and acceptance, or what I would call resignation. I spent several months in a fog walking around on auto-pilot before seeking help for clinical depression. I have resigned myself to the fact that their time here on Earth has ended and that they are all in a better place. I am grateful that suffering is over but the tears have not come. The anger is absent. I am not in denial about their deaths but I remain emotionless, numb, resigned. Death is a constant. Something we will all experience but grieving is just as normal as death and I cannot seem to get myself to go there.

I miss my Dad and uncles very much but I do not think of them often. It is as if I have blotted them out of my mind. I see their pictures but I am not really “seeing” them for whom they were and what role they played in my life. They are like characters from a magazine or TV show. My memories are blocked. I refuse to go there unless there is a group of us talking about them and then it is all good, no sadness, just laughter and good times. While this is OK it is not enough. The knot is still there. The holes are still there and the feelings that were quick to rise up at the time of each death acknowledged.

Unfortunately, for me the defense mechanism of strength (i.e. being strong - crying is a sign of weakness) kicks in and overrides my senses and the moment passes not recognized for what it really is until something else triggers it. I do not want to experience another loss to grieve the loss of these three people as it will take away from the one who should really be grieved but I have to find a way to allow the squashed feelings to rise to the surface and released. I have to face these deaths from a personal perspective not a clinical approach. I am not on the outside looking in. These three people meant a great deal to me. They helped to mold me as I was growing up, now they are gone, and with them, a piece of me went too.

I want to cry, to release the pent up emotions but I cannot. It will not happen at least not right now. The one year anniversary for all of them have come and gone and still nothing, although I feel it lying just beneath the surface. Counseling has helped me to acknowledge it but so far nothing has helped me release it. One day I hope to be able to feel that this is all over for me and I will think of them and our times together often and fondly. In the meantime, I am waiting for the moment or moments when the wall comes down, the lid comes off and the emotions will come spilling out and I can move forward.

Why do I write?

Why do I write? My first response to that question is why not write? I cannot remember a time in my life when writing was not a part of it. I have written poetry, short stories, journals, rants, and raves for as far back as I can remember. Was it all publishable or even worth someone reading, probably not but it was an outlet for me and that is all that mattered.

Having said all that I guess it is safe to say that writing is an opening for me. It allows me to express myself in ways otherwise unavailable. I get to determine who my audience is and when, if at all, to share what I have written. Thoughts are constantly floating around and although they do not always make it down on paper, they are stored in the file cabinet for a rainy day.

Writing is therapeutic for me. I can write about things that are on my mind from today, yesterday, five years ago, or longer. Thoughts have a way of holding you captive until released and that is where my writing comes into play.

Sometimes if I am having a rough day instead of carrying it around with me, I will write about it and then delete it. Never having seen the light of day but gone from my mind are those thoughts that have held me captive and I am all the better for it because it has been set free.

Our brains are like mini computers. We take stuff in and eventually if it is not stored somewhere else you run out of memory. With my writing, I download every so often thereby freeing up space and allowing the brain to defrag.

That is all practical and good but my writings embody my emotions and at times things get bogged down or bottled up because of what I am feeling and they marinate for a while until I can find a way to get them out cohesively. This is where I am right now and have been for a few months now. Feelings are disjointed and running amok making it difficult to put into words and so they have been festering, soaking, and have reached the boiling point. They need releasing before they spill over and make a mess and so this 30,000-word challenge could not have come at a better time. With that said, if I seem to be like a Mexican jumping bean (all over the place) you will understand why. There is a lot of stuff up there just waiting to come out.

Summer memories

Summer has quickly consumed us. It has insulated itself into our every thought and action. The weather, the weekend, the events over the next few months all revolve around summer. Will we have good weather? Will we get rain? Can I take vacation and get a couple of good days in without it being a washout? As the kids are out of school our actions are centered around them and keeping them entertained; camp, swimming, football and cheering practice, visits to the library and of course the ever groaning vacation trip with the famous words, “Are we there yet?”

It is too soon to say, “I am bored”. One would hope we could get a few more weeks of them sleeping until noon, eating everything they can get their hands on, playing video games, texting, and tweeting until all hours of the night before speaking those words.

I for one remember a different kind of summer; one where you went to stay with your grandparents the weekend that school let out and did not come back until the weekend before school began again. Being that they were from the old school, meaning before the days of electronics, TV, and entertaining the kids it was up to us to entertain ourselves. We found something to do on a daily basis to keep our minds from turning to gel or getting ourselves into trouble while trying not to be bored. Fortunately, for me New York was full of wonders and excitement and the possibilities were endless.

I spent hours at the museum looking at art and wondering what the artist meant when they painted such things. King Tut’s display was my favorite visiting attraction and it was fascinating to look at all the pieces, read the history of discoveries in the tombs, and ponder it all with the brain of an adolescent. The botanical gardens brought another facet of joy in itself. The Japanese gardens, the Koi ponds, and the vast array of flowers and greenery took my imagination on trips to far away lands.

Rainy days found me in the library tucked into a window and reading for hours at a time. I got lost in the books. They opened up a new world for me. Reading was my outlet, my escape from the reality of what I considered a terrible life. Ah the mind of a child, the things we thought and felt in contrast to the reality of the situation.

I loved the smell of the subway or should I say the smell of the logs in the subway; the freedom of the trains was overwhelming. One could get on and ride for hours all through the city going from borough to borough and people watch. It was a great past time but not one I would recommend for the faint at heart because there was quite the eclectic group of characters that boarded the train depending on where you happened to be. My favorite part of the city was the village. I never knew what to expect when the doors would swoosh open to accept a new load of travelers caught up in their own worlds heading to destinations unknown. There were the gypsies, the punk rockers, the yuppies, and the vagabonds. Pink hair, Mohawks, body piercings, tattoo covered bodies, vintage clothing, spiked dog collar jewelry, heels, cowboy boots, shorts, sandals, and on and on it goes. I loved to see the vast array of attire adorning these strange characters that ventured onto the train when we stopped in their world.

The park is every child’s dream world except when you suffer from motion sickness and then it becomes your worst nightmare. Nausea and I were very good friends because I did not want to be left out of the fun. Swinging, see-sawing and the merry-go-round were my arch enemies but everyone loved to ride these rides and I wanted to be part of the “in” crowd and so I would venture a ride or two only to suffer for the rest of the day. It took a few years of this before I wised up and decided that the “in” crowd did not compare to not feeling like I wanted to heave my guts with every step I took. Surprisingly, I did not miss much when I begged off riding or swinging. I was still part of the “in” crowd and I did not have to sell my soul to be included.

Although those are great memories, I saved the best for last, Saturday trips to the beach. These moments defined us as a family. It was an all day affair. We would leave at 8:00 in the morning and get back around 9:00 at night. Everyone knew that the Dunham’s were spending the day at the beach. It was a love-hate relationship. I loved to go but hated the part when it came to getting in the water until I learned how to swim. That is another story in itself. We would wake early and help Nana and Grandpa get things together. All packed we climbed in and off we went. The beach had so much to offer, there was a playground, basketball court, skating on the boardwalk, stores with trinkets, and the beach replete with sand, sand, and more sand. I could never understand how no matter how or in what we wrapped the sandwiches or covered the potato salad sand made its way into the food. As the sun set with hues of orange and purple majesty, we packed up and made our way back into the city sleep long before hitting the expressway and dreaming of the fun we had that day. What I wouldn't give for one more day at the beach with my grandmother and grandfather, ah the memories of summer.

July Writing Romp - 30,000 in 31 days!!!

Ack! I signed on to write 30,000 words in thirty-one days as part of a challenge to get me back in the saddle and writing again. Today is day six and this is my first entry. In all fairness, I have been writing an essay for school this past week that has consumed all of my time and it is finally nearing completion so I thought I would get started with my 1,000 words a day. If I push, I can make up for the time I have lost and still make the deadline without any worries so that is my game plan.

Prom 2011

The dress, the shoes, the jewelry, the hair, the nails and where to eat. Who will drive, how late can we stay out and do you really have to know all the details. Cough, cough, a cloud of hair spray fills the bathroom, the smell of fingernail polish remover permeates the air and she wonders why she needs her inhaler. Safety pins, lotion, perfume, pocketbook, keys and don't forget the tickets and some money and out the door they go. My daughter and her BFF. Off to the prom. Her first and a sentimental milestone for me.

She had a great time. Lots of fun and memories to be shared for years to come and we get to do this all over again next year. Happy, happy, joy, joy, one of the things I so love about parenthood... the opportunity to re-live your life again vicariously through your kids.

Mother's Day 2011

Happy Mother's Day shouts awakened me on Sunday as my three little ones plopped a tray on my lap with my Mother's Day breakfast. A bowl of raisin bran soggy and delicious, burnt toast with jelly - yum, yum, an orange and a glass of water. Who could ask for more? Hand made cards soon followed along with left over chocolate Easter bunnies as a "dessert" of sorts should I be so inclined. No thank you very much you may keep that for your afternoon snack.

What a great way to start the day and how wonderfully blessed am I that they took the initiative on their own to do this for me.

I am the recipient of unconditional love today and everyday from these little ones He has entrusted in my care. I am not worthy but I am basking in every moment that I have both good and bad.

In reality every day is Mother's Day for as long as you live once you have been blessed with a child in your life but it sure is nice when they take the time to say thanks and show a little appreciation for what I truly believe is one of the hardest jobs in life!

The Weekend

Yesterday it rained most of the day as storms rolled through. I didn't mind because we needed the rain to wash the pollen away and I had school most of the day. Around 6:00pm the skies cleared up and the sun came out. It was a beautiful end to the day. This morning I awoke to birds chirping and bright sunshine. No signs lingered of yesterdays rain other than the branches that littered the yard. I went to church and enjoyed a service of praise and worship right out of Psalm 150. It was a glorious time. Afterwards we went to Home Depot and Lowes to get stuff for the house. As I sit in my new red Adirondack chair I am thrilled to be outside watching him cut the grass and work in the yard with minimal discomfort due to my allergies. I will need to start on dinner soon but first a small nap in the sun is in order.

How has your weekend been?

Back to school

Today is the first “official” day of school although from my perspective it actually began two weeks ago at registration when we received our first cluster of homework. I’ve spent the past two weeks cranking out papers and reading nightly to be prepared for tonight. I’ve researched laptops as I need one exclusively for myself for school and the software needed. I’ve ordered books, learned that renting is definitely cheaper than buying and that you can get books electronically as well as hard copy.

It has been a flurry of busyness and I’ve enjoyed most of it. Every now and then fear has crept into the picture and I’ve had to squash it by reminding myself that I am not doing this alone. That God and I are on this journey and it will be all that He has designed it to be. I thought I’d be more apprehensive today but find that my level of excitement is increasing as the appointed time draws nearer. I’m thrilled at the prospect of meeting the teacher, my classmates and bonding over the next two days of class. I’m not even grumbling about having to give up my weekend to get started.

While I know I am prepared physically, I am praying daily for wisdom, knowledge and understanding so that I can absorb all that will be conveyed in a short period of time. Please pray for those things with me as I know that the prayers of others often carry me during my weakest moments and for that I am grateful.

Have a wonderfully blessed weekend.

Back in stride again

I have missed writing. It seems like the hole in the dam got plugged and I couldn’t get it unstuck. So many thoughts swirling around in my head but I was unable to put them down on paper. It has been a busy time for us with the kids at school, activities on the weekends and living life daily. Work has really picked up and even consumed my evenings for a while there but those projects have come to an end and things are getting back to normal just in time for school to start. For the most part we have all been healthy; a few colds, coughs, and ear infections but nothing of major proportion. The flu skipped us on its second go round and for that we are thankful. The girls are growing by leaps and bounds. Inches up and out almost like plants they are growing with the seasons. Sprouting up in the spring just like my tulips in the front yard. I love the weather minus all the pollen and what it does to my allergies but the beauty that surrounds us is unparalleled. Bright pinks, yellows and oranges dot the neighborhood and the trees are blossoming white, pink and green. Spring has sprung and the temperatures are rising daily; almost a little too quickly. I’d love to have several weeks of the 70s before we start edging our way up to the 80s and 90s. Spring break is next week and this year the kids are really excited about it although we have no concrete plans for the time they are out. I will take a day or two off of work and spend time with them doing things locally but for the most part we’ll stay within the general vicinity of the house. I would like to take a trip down to the beach to see my grandmother but I’m not sure how that will pan out. We’ll play that one by ear. Gas prices have definitely put a damper on straying too far away from home although a visit is way overdue by my standards. I hope this is the beginning of being able to write again although my time is about to be consumed even more after this weekend doing homework and reading to prepare for class but I am at peace with it all and will take it one day at a time.

A reason to celebrate

Eleven years ago today my body and mind were preparing themselves for the birth of my third child. I was big as a house with aches and pains all over as the moment came closer and closer. I went for my three mile walk or wobble as it was in the end and made it back without any issues. I had contractions off and on during the day but nothing that lasted very long. We were sure that she would make her appearance before the weekend was over but weren’t sure which day that would be.

I had said good-bye to my co-workers the previous day and had a long weekend to wait out the delivery. It was balmy for February and being outside seemed to be what gave me the most pleasure. Friday passed without incident but during my wobble on Saturday morning I sprung a slight leak and we knew time was very close. I wobbled home and rested the remainder of the morning only to wake from a nap around 2:00 in the afternoon and the leak had become a puddle so off we headed to the hospital. Contractions came on quick and hard every 7 minutes and we were navigating in Virginia Beach traffic trying to make it to the hospital. The doctor was on the golf course and so we made it to the hospital well ahead of him.

She didn’t wait long once we got there to make her appearance. At 3:33 p.m. she came flying into the world straight into the arms of the startled nurse after the first push. At 8 pounds 1 ounce she was my biggest one. The doctor arrived an hour after her birth and to this day she’s never been one to wait for any thing or any body. She wants it all now!

Flash forward eleven years and tomorrow we will celebrate her birthday with a bowling party of her closest friends and family. I can hardly wait; a bowling alley on a Saturday with screaming 10, 11 and 12 year old girls and boys. I wouldn’t trade it or her for anything in the world.

Happy Birthday my millennium baby!

Stepping out

One giant step for me… I’m going back to college. I’ve filled out my application, got my letters of recommendation, applied for financial aid and am now waiting to hear back from my enrollment counselor as to next steps.

Work is supportive and will reimburse through their tuition reimbursement plan which is dependent on your grade like most programs but with an extra twist. They give you 100% if you get an A, 90% if you get a B, and 80% if you get a C. Sounds like extra incentive to work for that A as if I wouldn’t be doing that myself with my Type A personality.

I’m excited and a little scared at the same time. Do I know what I’ve gotten myself into? How will I juggle home, work and school? Do I have what it takes? Yes, I question whether or not the brain works like it used to or if I will struggle to make the grade. Nothing is taken for granted. I’ll need to be even more organized than I currently am and will have to learn to stay up late again for class and homework time once the kids are down for the night.

Prayers are greatly appreciated along with words of encouragement and support. I know I can’t do this alone so look out for more posts asking questions, seeking advice and even polling for answers to some of the questions I know my research will ask of me.

We can do this - God, me and my friends and family!

Thanks for your support.

She Rejoices!

“For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39

Nothing can separate us from the love of God. Wow!

She rejoices in Gods love; His unyielding, unconditional love. While she yet daily walks in sin due to her carnal nature, He loves her. No greater joy does she feel than when she embraces the meaning of Romans 8:38-39 and allows it to ruminate in her spirit and flow out of her to all she comes in contact with.

Although she may not be all that she is destined to be she is loved all the while by God and no matter what she does, what she thinks and what she feels that may not be of God, He loves her anyway.

She rejoices in His unbridled love; won’t you?

Pepsi gone wild...

Weight Watchers - Jennifer Hudson, Nutri-System - Marie Osmond, Jenny Craig - Valerie Bertinelli, and now Pepsi - The "Skinny" can. As if they didn’t have enough to keep them aware of their size, weight and popularity with celebrities hawking the latest diet program, our young women are now faced with their beverages defining who they are. Pepsi has decided to come out with a “thin” can to celebrate beauty and confidence. I say bologna. What does a thin can have to do with celebrating beauty and confidence? To me it sends a signal to our young women that they must be “skinny” to be considered beautiful and confident.

Pepsi Thin – According to PepsiCo, the "taller, sassier new Skinny Can" is a "celebration of beautiful, confident women" and will be available come March, alongside the classic can, which won't be going away.

This is not the first blunder Pepsi has had in recent weeks. During the Superbowl they ran a commercial during prime time for Pepsi One with the kids watching of a guy and a girl and the guy kept saying in his mind that he wanted to sleep with this girl. Try explaining to your 5 year old what he’s saying and why? Totally inappropriate.

As parents we must take a stand with companies like this and hold them accountable for their actions. We have the power and if we channel it correctly we have the ability to force them to make a change. Boycotting Pepsi and their products while conveying to them our displeasure is a very resourceful use of our power. I called and complained to Pepsi and they apologized for their actions and noted that they have placed the ad to run at a later time. This seems to make them believe that it solves the problem. True to their word I saw the commercial run at 10:00 pm last night when most children are asleep but the gist of the conversation still does not sit well with me. Sex is still the main focus of this commercial and likening soft drinks to sex is just wrong.

I will not buy their products because of this obvious breach of family values and this Pepsi Thin is just another reason to reinforce the idea of boycotting their products going forward.

Young women today have enough to deal with from TV, magazines, music and school (i.e. grades, popularity, bullying and peer pressure) getting even more from a soft drink company just isn’t acceptable. They struggle with self-esteem, perfectionism and fitting in on a daily basis. Life shouldn't be this hard. We need to counteract all this negativism with positive images of "real women" who are grounded in the fact that they look, act and think different yet they are confident in themselves regardless of what the media says is beautiful.

What are your thoughts?

Monday night chaos

Hurried greetings as I walk in the door. Mom’s home. Footsteps coming from all different directions. Collective greeting. Happy Valentine’s Day hands thrusting homemade cards, cookies and various treats.

We take our neighbor her Valentine’s goodies. It’s a blustery evening as we traipse across the yard; be careful it is dark out. We arrive with peels of laughter as the wind blows us all over. Knocking on the door and calling out we see her just as she reaches for the knob. The fun begins and then it’s time for them to go home and have baths. I visit for awhile enjoying the peace and quiet and catching up on her daily life. All too soon I must return home and get things moving according to schedule.

Eek! Its 8:00 and no one is ready for bed, not one of them. Energy is in the air. The candy high has survived the bath routine and all I want to do is crash. Tired, so very tired and sore! What is this? My work out is paying off but I have a webcast I want/need to listen to. Can I get the peace and quiet I need?

In and out, up and down, water please, this hurts, that feels funny, I forgot to tell you something. Irritating little interruptions that some would find endearing but right now I’m finding annoying. Time for prayer, yeah maybe this will calm things down. Short and sweet, what’s up with that? We’re tired. Ah ha the sugar crash has begun. Tired little girls, all dressed up to enjoy their dreams, Tinkerbell, Disney Princesses and Ariel all tucked in.

Me, still in my work out clothes, past the sweating stage now I’m dry and smelly but I’m watching my webcast and relaxing for a few until the clothes that need to be folded and put away start to call me. A nice hot shower, a welcome relief from a long day and into bed I go. Nodding ever so slightly trying hard to stay awake until my Valentine comes home. Sleep wins out and I’m out like a light. What a day it was and I get to start all over again right now.

Happy Valentine's Day

God is love and love is God, from my perspective, the two are synonymous. God loved us so much that He sent His only begotten son down to Earth and sacrificed him so that we could come back to live with Him again. (John 3:16)

What love, what adoration, what longing to have an intimate relationship with us; and all he asks in return is that we love Him with all our heart, soul, and mind and our neighbor as our self. (Matthew 22:37-39)

Is that so hard to do? For some of us the answer is a resounding yes! Until we do a little self examination and hold ourselves up to the same light we hold everyone else to and realize just how guilty we are of the same things we accuse others of and withhold our love from them because of it.

How many times have we had to ask God to forgive us for the same thing over and over again? How often do we fallen short of the Ten Commandments? Do we have love for our neighbor as we do our selves or do we hold everyone to a double standard while we justify our reasons for our shortcomings?

As we celebrate Valentine’s Day, the day of love, take a moment and reflect on the relationships around you. Do you have that agape love for your fellow man or do you selfishly hold back for fear of rejection, hurt or pain? Do you love unconditionally in your marriage, friendships or relationships with your kids or do you dole out the love according to some gauge you have in your mind as to whether or not they have earned it?

After all, what have you done to earn the love of God? Nothing, every day we fall short and it is through Jesus that we have the opportunity to repent and start again. Mercy and grace anew each day because of the love He has for us.

So while you are in the mode of celebrating Valentine’s Day, purpose it in your heart to be move loving, more forgiving and less judgmental and withholding of what is so freely given to you whether you accept it or not. LOVE.

Let love motivate you today and everyday to be kinder, nicer, more caring and compassionate one to another and save a little chocolate for a rainy day.

Merry Go Round

Why won't the words come? I'm trying to get my thoughts together but nothing is meshing right now. I'm being pulled in so many directions at this moment that I don't know which way is up.

People coming out of the woodwork stirring up memories of days long forgotten. Scabs being ripped off of wounds thought to be healed. Emotions running the gamut. My brain is working overtime trying to juggle it all.

Scared to stop for fear of what space I'll land on so I just keep spinning and I waiting for something to give.

I

I live hard.

I love hard.

I play hard.

I throw caution to the wind.

I wear my heart shamelessly on my sleeve.

I believe that everyone (including myself) is inherently capable of goodness no matter what obstacles they face in life, no matter the trials, the bad examples and the trouble that has found them because that's how God designed us.

I have survived fatal fiery darts from the enemy but I have my share of scars where I have been skewered during my life.

I am in a flux.

I am afraid, determined, resigned, hopeless and hopeful.

I am waiting, wishing, fearful, dejected and confused.

I am NOT in control

I am desiring the best but willing to accept something less if it takes me away from where I am now...

Calling All Women

Although this commentary from an unknown author is geared at women of color. I know for a fact that the biases, the jealousies and the actions imparted in this writing cross the color barrier. Every woman has faced these types of things but it has been publicized more predominately by women of color.

We can get along, we can have fulfilling relationships across all barriers of race, size, shape, nationality, religious belief and lifestyle choices. All of us at some point in our lives has needed, longed and prayed for someone (in the physical) to love, understand, and empathize with our situations; to give us a hug when we are hurting, a smile when we are down and a hand up when we have fallen down and can't get up by ourselves. In other words we have needed a true FRIEND/SISTER.

I hope you will read this and take away something that brings you to a different point in your life. One that says enough is enough and that you start making a difference in the lives of the women you come in contact with on a daily basis. Don't sit back and wait for someone else to start the new cycle. Let it begin with you and you and you...

Women of Color - Author Unknown

When I first heard of the movie "For Colored Girls" I got so excited. I had the idea of getting as many women together that I could think of to go see this movie. I had visions of group discussions and moments shared with one another that would lead to healing and growth. I guess I kind of imagined a Women's Empowerment Conference type of setting.

Well, after I shared my idea with a few women, reality set in and I realized that so many of us wouldn't be willing to participate for various reasons: You don't like me, you don't care for somebody I might invite, you only hang out with certain people, you don't understand the big deal about Tyler Perry making yet another movie about black people and our issues for all the world to see, you don't like crowds, so is too ghetto, such and such is too uppity etc... It has ALWAYS amazed me that we as black women are each others biggest critics. We are the quickest to bring each other down, find each others' faults and nit pick at a sister until she has nothing left, nothing left to give and then we step over her and call her worthless. We take the prettiest women and tear them down for thinking "they are cute" but turn around and dog the average sista because "she know she should take better care of herself than that - can't believe she got a man!" We call strong women female dogs and accuse weaker women of riding somebody else's coat tails. We tell a big sista to put down her burger and turn around and criticize a skinny woman for not picking one up. We ride the loud mouth woman for "talking too darn much" and likewise torment the quiet woman for "Being too quiet and needing to take up for herself" Sad part is we don't discriminate, we talk about everybody!!!

I've watched women dog out everybody from Oprah for catering to white people and Halle Berry for not being able to keep a man to young Willow Smith for acting too darn grown in her recent video. All of these females are successful and there is something about each one of them to be proud of but a lot of us can't seem to see that. I have to wonder since we all share a common thread (whether we want to admit it or not) is there something about ourselves that we don't like; what has happened to us that we cannot seem to get along? Why is that we fight amongst ourselves, backstab & steal each others men (only to find out we should have left him where we found him). We cannot seem to be unified to support and stick up for one another. Everybody seems to be out for themselves while other groups unite against us; but nobody else has to bring us down because we trample on the spirits of each other daily.

Even if you live in a mini mansion, drive a luxury car, have good credit, rich handsome husband, etc., this does not mean that you should look down your nose at the woman with 4 kids, no husband, living in income based housing struggling to keep her lights on. We ALWAYS think the grass is greener on the other side, I had a woman whose child's father is MIA tell me that I should never complain because I receive a decent amount of child support and I laughed and let her know that I would gladly give every dime back if he would come relieve some of this overwhelming pressure of feeling inadequate as a parent. If I could get just one full night of sleep or not always be on the verge of losing my job because I'm the one that has to call off or leave work for one reason or another to accommodate my child - yeah he could DEFINITELY have his money if I could have some peace! Money alone doesn't make you happy (not true happiness), good credit doesn't keep you satisfied, beauty doesn't make you any less insecure, fame doesn't make you less vulnerable or cause you to be a good judge of character and being stuck up and mean doesn't keep you warm at night or prevent you from being lonely.

You don't know how the sista sitting right next to you could have carefully put on her make up this morning to hide the beating from last night. The teacher you handed your child over to this morning could have sent her children off to school from a dark house with empty bellies. The teller you just got rude with at the bank could know that today is her last day on her job and have no idea how she is going to survive past next weekend. The sista at the office that appears so busy could be typing her goodbyes to all the people that she loves because she plans to blow her brains out tonight after she tucks her babies into bed. The woman you pass in the hallway could be on her way to have an abortion because she fears what others might think or how the woman that sent you this e-mail may drink an over abundance of alcohol every night to mask the nightmares of an abusive childhood.

Ladies we HAVE TO DO BETTER!!! I'm not suggesting that we all like each other and be phony. But I am asking that we all try to respect each other. You HAVE NO IDEA what the next woman is going through, you don't know what past or current hurt and pains have shaped her into who she is today. We spend so much time trying to be as strong and hard as we are expected to be that we end up cracking from the inside out piece by piece. If we would spend 1/3 of the time we spend tearing each other down to build someone up, encourage someone, show someone some love, we could truly make a difference and save some one's life.

PLEASE don't be the straw that breaks another woman's back. Believe me when I tell you that there is a woman out there that needs your smile, your hug, your support, your prayers and your love.

"Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me." Matthew 25:40

Sea shells on the sea shore

For several years I have collected sea shells from the various places I have visited and keep them in an aquarium. No fish, just sea shells. The shells that I collect are a wide variety of sizes, shapes and colors just like you would find on the beach with one big difference. Very few of my shells are whole or perfect. I didn’t realize it at first but over time I’ve noticed that the ones that I gravitate towards the most when I am out there collecting shells are the broken ones. Although they might be chipped or broken into lots of pieces I can still see their beauty and so I scoop them up and add them to my collection.

It took me a while to make the connection between the broken shells and me; but there is a connection. I think of myself as a broken person and so I can relate to the shells and what they represent to me. Just like I love those shells for what they are and can see the beauty in them I think about how God views me. Although I am broken down, have jagged edges and cracks in my foundation in all of my brokenness the beauty of God still shines through.

Although I may be battered, bruised and a little hard to look upon at times there is still some goodness there. I can radiate His goodness and mercy. Someone can look upon me and see the light He shines within me and find beauty just like I find in these broken shells that lay scattered on the beach. Others may not see them like I do just like others don’t see me for who I am but I know that God does and I am trying to embrace that and let my life reflect the mercy and grace He bestows upon me daily.