Her Beauty.

What makes a woman beautiful?

Is it her curves? Is it her smile? Is it her personality? Her cooking?

Many men do not know how to comprehend the beauty of such creatures. Their definitions are boiling sporadic combustions as to what the media formulated for the ideal lady to bring home to momma.

Well, I am a woman of worth. And I know what makes me beautiful.

Pay attention.

A woman is beautiful because of her womb. Pregnancy is a woman's gift to the world. Women of worth give birth to God's children. Be gentle with a woman. She could be the mother of your next bundle of joy.

A woman is beautiful when wearing heels. Yes, I said it. Stilettos. Pumps. Whatever you want to call them. Heels are what makes a woman stand out with FIERCE inside the crowd. Her world is her runway. As she slips in her favorite 6-inch-killers, one by one, BEWARE. :)

A woman is beautiful because of her relationship with God. A woman who has a relationship with God is undoubtedly the sexiest woman in the world. Trust me, I know. I am one. Are you? Do you know another lady who is too? And it is not because she is able to recite 17 scriptures under 10 seconds. But because she knows who her KING is and leave the wannabes alone.

A woman is beautiful because of her pout. It's her signature of her sensitive side. Side note: A woman will never agree with you. Hello! We have our own mind of our own! Hahaha!

More importantly, a woman is beautiful simply because she is a woman. Whether she is tall, long haired, bald, white, dark, curvy, bone straight, chunky, quiet, loud, she is thee precious gift of God. Without the woman, the world would be boring and nothing.

Advice: Treat every single woman you see with respect because she is perfectly designed by God with his ink of dignity and grace.

Whether she is your 90-year-old grandmother or your 5-year-old sister who thinks she rules the world, tell her she is beautiful.

"You can never steal a woman's beauty. Nor recreate it."

Appreciate it.

Dear Jesus

Dear Jesus,

My name is RJ. I am 2 years old. I am about to be 3.

Are you busy? Can we talk? Where are you? I want to tell you I love you. Every night, I see my daddy fall on the floor with his hands to his face and he whispers words to your Daddy.

Do you think your Daddy can help my daddy? Please?

Pretty please?

I think my daddy is sick. His head is always hurting. NaNa says daddy is getting better though. But sometimes he does not play with me when he take that weird medicine. Sometimes my daddy even cries. I don't want him to cry. No more.

My daddy is hurting. He still smiles though. He always taking good care of me. He buys me Spider Man house shoes and he buys me big boots. They are black.

But sometimes my daddy is always sleepy. Please ask your Daddy to take care of my daddy.

Thanks for the talk.

Love,

RJ.

P.S. My birthday is on Christmas. Like yours. I hope you get a lot of presents.

Oh.... I love my daddy. A lot.

Bye bye.

Dear Tammy,

Dear Tammy,

You will get shot in the heart. But will recover.

Right now, you are 16 and madly in love with that silly football player, Kyle Hatcher. He is a sweetheart. He is so goofy and always make you smile. High School Sweethearts. Classic.

You are a junior at Ferndale. Must be fun. Dealing with that confusing algebra stuff. And rocky friendships. Don't worry. It will end one day.

Remember that upsetting 4-page note Kyle wrote to you that one night? He explained how he feels as though he will not be able to love you forever. Well, his tears were right.

5 years later, Kyle passes away. A month after you graduate from Bowling Green State University.

Three weeks prior to his death, he calls you during your lunch break at your magazine internship, just to check on you, your birthday and graduation. And he jokingly tries to make a movie date. As always. But you gently decline. As always. You two are just friends at this point. He has a new girlfriend. You have a new boyfriend.

Three weeks later, you get that Facebook message from Kory.

"Did you hear about Kyle?"

Kyle is in the hospital. You think all this will pass. You think you two will laugh about this during the next week. But you two don't.

"Yes, Kory I am almost to the hospital."

"Um, Tammy, ... Kyle died. Five minutes ago."

You pull over. And scream. For an Hour... God did not want you to see his transition. But was it fair? You will never know.

Your blood turns hot. And cold. Your mind churns with disbelief. A piece of your precious heart shrivels and dies.

Your sorrow turns into anger. You are mad at the doctors. How could they be so dumb? You are mad at God. How could He let this happen? More importantly, you are mad at Kyle. How could he just leave you? You asked him 3 weeks ago, was he ok. He was coughing a lot.

"Oh come on Tams, yes I am fine."

Turns out, Kyle had a rare lung disease. TAMMY, HE COULD NOT BREATHE.

At the body viewing, Kory holds you as you stumble when walking up to casket. But you are stronger than you think, Tammy. You straighten yourself and softly whisper a prayer. You look at his lifeless body as he sleeps sweetly in his brass coffin. You touch his icy cold hands and tell him you will love him forever.

As Kory pulls you away, you wipe your face. Kyle would never want you to cry over him. Ever. But it hurts so damn much.

A year later from his death, does still hurt? Hell. Yes. Daily, you ask God, why? But understand, Kyle was an angel. It was time for him to go Home. Heaven. But he met his first love. You.

...I will always remember you Kyle. Forever.

Kyle always wanted me to be happy. From the day he laid his eyes on me. And I am. Very happy.

empty frames

This feeling is deeply flavored. With Sin.

Her soul is a million miles away.

As she sits, facing outward from the burning ocean of her frazzled thoughts, she swallows her heart down her throat. slowly.

Her thoughts.

Some are holding hands.

Others are wandering alone, lost.

How can she make it right?

Seems as though her life is slipping through her loose grip.

She sits and thinks.

And thinks.

Does your life ever hurt so much that it becomes hard to breathe? Even roses have a beautiful death.

Her blood is frozen. Her smile disappears.

The picture slowly starts to fade.

Sometimes

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever get over my fear of spiders.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever appreciate my bra size.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever talk to God without asking for anything.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever stop beating myself over my past mistakes.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever truly love myself completely.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever not give a fuck.

What do YOU wonder about?

We all do.

Some wonder. Others conquer.

So, perhaps I wonder if I would.

Let's start with the first one. My fear.

....

But I am really am so afraid of spiders.

Tammy Je t' aime

Let me be honest.

I used to run away from God.

For some dumb reason, I thought I could ignore Him.

But of course, I SUFFERED.

One morning, I stop running away. And let Him hold my hand.

Sometimes God has to break your heart.

In the Human world, a broken heart has no life.

In God's world, a broken heart is an open heart. The perfect valve for His love.

According to the Universe, a broken heart allows new love, new grace and new blessings inside.

Makes sense right?

I used to walk around with a broken heart.

The worst part: I DID NOT CARE.

Instead of praying, I would run to fools for advice. Advice that was rotten. Stale. Leaving my ears bleeding to death.

My heart was dying.

But with precious words in prayer, I was saved.

Thank you God.

Her Story

(Based on a true story.)

"Oh, GOD forgot all about me a very long time ago."

Pools of coiling blood blankets the floor. Screams flood the walls. Darkness sharpens, getting louder than ever before.

She can't take this shit anymore.

He BEATS her.

He RAPES her.

Over.

And OVER...

... with his beautiful lies.

"I know every inch of her body."

And with knowing this, she barely lives a normal life. She can't even enjoy grocery shopping. With each squeak, the cart's wheels squeals a memory of her bloody screams as her Prince tries to kill her.

But he does not control her anymore with his beatings.

Now, he does it by twisting the living daylights out her nightmares.

He controls her.

And she continues to hold on.

Her soul runs naked with sorrow. God is constantly trying to cover His child with his clothe of warmth, love and forgiveness.

...but she refuses. And pulls the clothe off.

"I woke up one morning with bruises all over my legs. I looked at him, screaming 'WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO ME?'"

Walking away, his laugh saws through her fragile soul.

Will this nightmare ever end? Or will she plunge into the fire of death beforehand?