Isn't She Lovely?

I absolutely love feeling Beautiful.
Don't you?
Every single girl should feel Beautiful. Inside and out.
Earlier this week, my boyfriend's niece was born. Her birth still tickles my mind. She entered this world, simply Beautiful. Although I saw her picture with her eyes closed, I know that her big brown eyes will embrace the world with their beauty as they seek the treasures of the world. With her fresh, dewy pretty skin and tiny nose, she is so Beautiful. Looking at her makes me smile and reminds me of why I love being a Beautiful woman.
All little girls around the world are Beautiful. But that word is certainly foreign to most, and knowing this fact breaks my heart. Instead of being told she is Beautiful, a little girl is being raped by the lies of strange horny beasts and jealous family members. Hard to believe?
You can just look at the woman pictured on this blog. Yep, me.
I used to feel dead ass ugly.
But now, tuh, you can't tell me nothing. Just kidding.
It's funny how we, Beautiful women, struggle with the logic of Beauty when its simple. Just Love yourself. But first, you must DISCOVER yourself. In the midst of our voyage to self-discovery, we gobble down the stress and poison of basic, unqualified men and tainted goals in life. Which then leaves us falling short and feeling dumb. And ugly. Our men are fine. But I honestly love the beauty of a woman. So feminine and incomparable in every single way. When I have a daughter, I will be adamant to tell her that that she is Beautiful every chance I get. So that my Beautiful little girl will transform into a Beautiful young lady then into a Beautiful woman. Like myself.
Just Beautiful.

Do I Spend Enough Time with God?

Do I Spend Enough Time with God?

That's a very deep question to ask oneself, huh?
Let's face it.
A lot of us don't pray. And the majority of us who do... don't pray for others.
So, let's have some quick fun for 20 seconds. Let's imagine the world if every single child of God spent enough time with Him. What an enchanting place it would be, eh?
This provoking question bewildered my swollen brain all day. When I think about spending time with God, talking to Him comes to mind.
Spending time with God doesn't just include shuffling through hundreds of Gospel Cd's or heading to 3 hour church service.

Sometimes God just wants to talk.
Remember the last time you were stuck in a traffic jam? Maybe God was trying to talk then. Or the time that crazy stray cat scared you as you were walking to your car? But we always shoo them away and continue with our day and pull out the driveway 45 mph. Perhaps the time you held your breath, looking for a close parking spot at your job? Couldn't find a spot. Frustrating. Maybe God was trying to get our attention then. But, of course, we give up, park in the nosebleed section and keep it moving before we clock in late.

God works in mysterious ways. Nevertheless, talking to Him should not be a secret crotchet. Prayer is the supernatural correspondence that empowers us to visit the big man upstairs. Whenever trouble comes, vexatious static shakes the line, however, we always have a live connection with God. But many of us hang up.

Back to my question: Do I spend enough time with God? I am not sure. When I spend time with God, I shut down. I turn my brain off. And then my heart speaks. My heart tells God every little thing that made me happy and sad. Whether it was the annoyance from a piece of hair that would stubbornly not lay down. Or a memory of my boyfriend's son running into my arms with a bright, Kool-aid smile. Or having a discussion on which route to take in order to find myself when I get lost in life (which seems to happen every five minutes).

No matter what the heart says, God listens.
At work today, my mind pondered over this question of whether or not, I am spending enough time with God. I did, however, realize how we spend so much time complaining and less time praising God. Perhaps, if we personally make sure that we are with Him, God will be sure to always be with us.
Let's face it.

It's one thing to talk about God. And all his glory. It's another to talk TO God.

Did you talk to Him today?

Mirror Mirror, On The Wall....

Ever stood in front of the mirror and ask yourself, "Why do I complain so much?"

Well, I do.

When I look at myself in the mirror every single morning, I see the following:

Moles.
Dark skin.
Heat bumps.
Dimple.
Big brown eyes.
Eyebrows that need to be plucked.
Short hair.

Often, I forget that I am staring back at a young woman who is dying to be the best she can be. Every single day. When in fact, she needs to be LIVING to be the best she can be. When will I ever learn? Then again, I am hardheaded. Very.

This past Saturday, the Honey and I participated in the American Cancer Society's Relay for Life in Oak Park, where we met an elderly lady who is a breast cancer survivor. Her spirit was amazing. With her pearly whites, she joyfully asked my boyfriend, who happens to be a brave brain cancer survivor, on how he feels.

He told her that he felt great and he bent his head down to show her the scar on his left temple.

She chuckled and told him that it is fading away. She then asked him if his hair fell out and he answered with a heavy sigh. "Yes," he said. "All of it fell out. I was bald for a few months."

She nervously chuckled and told us that her precious hair fell out and described the dreadfulness of looking in the mirror, greeted by her new found nakedness. Yet, she then said something that dawdles in my head still to this day. "I used to hate looking in the mirror, but hey, at least we can look in the mirror."

And that's true. Every few seconds, someone is dying. And every other second, we are always complaining. Instead, we should be giving thanks for being able to do the simplest things, such as making up our beds or walking into the bathroom and looking in the mirror, seeing ourselves staring right back while we brush our teeth. So, now, I feel that my mirror is showing the reflection of my biggest blessing: My spirit.

Life is so damn hard. But loving thy self should not be. Right? One minute your spirit is here, the next, it's gone. Forever.

So, maybe I should stop focusing on those heat bumps and focus on living my dreams, eh?

LA!!

No Idea.

I always hide behind my smile.
Why? I have no idea.

I always tend to be extremely emotional.
Why? I have no idea.

I always felt a bit insecure in my dark skin.
Why? I have no idea.

I always cry every week.
Why? I have no idea.

I always had a potty mouth.
Why? I have no idea.

I always sweat the small stuff. No matter how hard I try not to.
Why? I have no idea.

I will always wonder why I do such things. And I probably will never have an idea why.

Ever wonder why you do certain things that you do? Do such things make you a weak person? Am I a weak person?

I have no idea.

Struggling With Faith

Worrying is a disease. Killing us all every second.

Over this past weekend, I was stressed out. Over nothing, of course. Just worrying about things in my life that I have no control over. And my mind was paying the price.

During church service, the sensation of wanting to cry stung my eyes. I found myself, sitting next to my boyfriend, silently suffocating as my worries saddled me. Sitting pretty in the pew, ugly thoughts infested my brain. I have never screamed the Lord's name so LOUD... I actually looked around to see if the lady sitting next to me could hear my thoughts.

The stench of all my fears was strong. Why was I so emotional? What was I so worried about? Why do I have so many complaints? So many feelings of discontent.

As the pastor hollered in his sermon, I zoned out. While singing the hymns, the voice of my boyfriend singing slowly faded away as I stood there next to him like a zombie, as my soul searched for Jesus in His own house.

...I was losing a grip on my faith.

Do you know what that feels like? Let me tell ya, it feels like your blood circulation grows cold. It feels like your heart slows down. And it feels like your brain freezes. It feels like you are "blocked."

When it was time for prayer, I closed my eyes and cried. Every muscle fiber in my petite frame flinched, preventing me from crying like a newborn in that sanctuary.

Later on that day at church, I was reintroduced to a small word: faith. One should not tell God about her problems. She should tell her problems about her God.

In the end, faith can buoy us up and bring us to something greater and better than we ever imagine. Faith without action is dead. Faith is maintaining focus on God's divine power so that we can succeed and flourish. And I will. My God says so.

Faith has brought me through a lot of sticky situations. Faith saved me from an unhealthy relationship with myself as I fought depression. Faith saved my boyfriend's life as he and God fought against cancer. Faith kept me on the path to my dreams of being a writer. Essentially, Faith has brought me closer to my precious God.

But I still struggle with these "blocks". Don't you?

Will You Forgive Me?

I need to learn how to forgive.

I thought I knew. But I don't.

Do you? If so, prove it.

It boggles my mind because I really thought I knew how to move on and forget. But forgiveness is nowhere near that.

Forgiveness is letting go. Not of what has happened. But the pain associated with the incident.

Over the course of the last few years, I have been hurt, physically and emotionally, was beaten, socked in the face by an ex-boyfriend...more than once, lied to, lied on, stolen from, betrayed, feces of lies thrown all over my name and the list goes on and on.

whew.

But I still put a smile on my face, disguising the pain that crawls all over my battered soul.
A smile of deceit. A smile of despair. A smile infested with decay of hatred.

Will I ever learn? I find it funny how God forgives me. But I can't forgive nobody fully. Not even my damn self.

Forgiveness is a sprinkle of honesty. A sprinkle of God's mercy. A sprinkle of the recognition that there are no excuses or justifications, but love.

The quip of it all is that we all say we forgive each other. But we don't. True forgiveness is a cool breeze of fresh air.

Can't wait to feel that.

One day...