God Favors Me In Spite of.... Everything.

"The devil had a plan to kill me, I know but God intercepted his plan, And told the devil, NO, God blocked it. He wouldn't let it be so, no, He wouldn't let it be so...."

What kind of God would do this for me?

Daydreaming and reflecting over my blessings, I constantly ask myself this question. It just seems like I do more wrong than right. I have never lived a perfect life. And can't seem to do so either. But God has always been there and restrained my mind from giving up.

Oh, and, guess what.

I am engaged!

Truthfully, it still has not hit me that I am months away from marrying the man of my dreams. But I am sure that the day when this vibrancy settles in, my soul will be electrified with much more excitement.

Over the last few months, I have grown spiritually not only with Reginald, but with myself and GOD. My life has transpired and metamorphosed into a marshmallow of hearty goodness. All thanks to the man upstairs who I love so much. My relationship with God has incredibly ripen and thicken. We are closer than ever. In the misst of my journey with God, I have never depended on my faith more than ever in the flood of life's worries and evil.

And holding on to faith is not the easiest thing in the world to do. It is SO HARD. VERY. Especially for a champion worrier. Worry lives in my blood. But every morning when I rise, I make a decision. Choose which side I was on. God's. Or life's. Which do you think I choose?

God is such a Keeper, ain't He?

Achilles' Heel

I’m nervous. Very.

Where is my confidence? Where did it go? I swear it was just here a second ago. Or was I just mesmerized by its silhouette? I am at the point of my life where I am standing on my tippy-toes, knees bent, ready to leap in the deep sea of writing, and release my first book, Snow Angels. A memoir of my life. A mystery of God’s power and mercy. A true story of my boyfriend’s battle against brain cancer. What a risk, huh?

Who am I kidding? Can I really do this? Who would really do this? These questions are circling through my brain every.single.day. It’s only a matter of time when I ….

My book, Snow Angels, is my baby. It encompasses the recipe of two souls conjoining together. Creating a masterpiece. A work of art that I am truthfully terrified of liberating to the public. Don't get it twisted. This book means so much to me. Each chapter embraces a special ambiance of the recollection of my memories within the last years.

But my question is why I am so nervous? Am I really that dangerously in love with my book that it would leave me feeling so weak and insecure in expressing my true feelings to the world? I wonder if every writer goes through this phase when preparing to give birth to their new sculpture of words. Since July 2011, I have carved the ins and outs of the earliest forms of my novel. I documented those special moments and private prayers that Reginald and I clinched upon and they have manifested into the existence of my book characters, Aubry and Charles and their unconditional love.

According to Oprah, “Whatever you fear most has no power; it is your fear that has the power.” Maybe I just need to get over it, face my fear and let go. Release.

I need to.

I need to show the world that cancer is NOT a death sentence. I need to show the world that love can transpire in people that you would lease expect it. I need to show the world my testimony of what God can do for His people. Cancer handpicks its “victims”. But God always fight back. And win.

Perhaps, I am not nervous. Maybe I am just darn selfish. Whatever it is, I am determined to break up with my love and give the world a piece of my heart. Regardless, I need to learn that I must focus my innermost energies on lessening any constraints that I may face so that I can feel that inconceivable sagacity of power and confidence that bestows before me.

I must validate myself. I am not weak. I am a writer. And thee author of Snow Angels. Be prepared to witness.

Little Girl

As a little girl, I daydreamed endlessly on how my life would become in the future. By no means had I ever thought that I would be a writer. I forever believed that I would be a doctor. I remember one Christmas, my father gave me a doctor play kit. I'm sure he’d wished he saved the receipt because I demanded his tiresome presence in my office almost every day after work. As my fascinations with remedies ripened, I became determined to be a “baby doctor.”

I never thought that I would want to be a writer. As age 5, I was tested; I could ready exceptionally fast at such a young age. And comprehend what I have read. Little did I know, words were conquering my soul. As I continue to grow, my love for writing did. But it was disguised. I pretended to dread assignments that involved essays, hiding my true passion away from the other kids. In the 6th grade, the entire class was assigned a story to write that was due at the end of every single month. And every single month, I received an A+. My stories were wild and enchanting. Who knew such a young mind could construct such enchantment. So rich. So delicious. Every single word was mine. But the thought of being a writer was disposed quickly...

I still wanted to be doctor. Until I was asked to join the student newspaper in high school, my life changed. My fellow classmates treasured the tang of my words. I was simply happy. And I still am. (Honestly, my medical days were demolished when my gross advanced science class visited The University of Michigan and I was THE ONLY ONE who was seconds from passing out unto the marbled floors while reviewing cadavers. Disgusting. The doctors made me sit outside for the remainder of the field trip. Sad.) That dream flew away anxiously and died.

Today, I feel every touch of my words. And I hope that the world does too. I am interested to see where my writing takes me. Writing erases the pain that my mind witnesses; my words hug me when I am lonely. The scars will always be there. But musing always helps bring cheerfulness and glitzy glee into my life. I may not be a doctor, but I hope to heal my readers with my words. Hence, the birth of my first book, Snow Angels. Will you witness? Stay tuned.

New Year: Same Me

Oh, 2012,

Unlike most folks, there is not going to be a "new me."

I adore the old me. Matter of fact, I will always be me. My life is just starting to unfold. Not too shabby.

Sure, laces of changes will be sewed in the dotted lines of my life along with stitches of restoration. But I love who I am. The year 2011 helped me discover the woman I am and I pray that this new year welcomes me with the most scrumptious bundles of life lessons.

Ringing in the new year with The Honey, I ultimately realized that I've found the rest of my life. I strongly believe that there is no need to be a "new Tammy". Why should I do that? I plan to continue to live my life to the best of my ability unashamedly. Continue to listen to the fanciful whispers of my Savior. Continue to kiss the knotty past goodbye. Continue to allow my fears to fly away as I walk through the wilderness. Continue to forgive myself in upcoming wrecks of calamity. Continue to practice my writing and building the courage to tell the world my stories. I promise, they are worth waiting for. And essentially, I will continue to believe in the magic of true love, no matter how crazy how it sounds. Most of all, I will continue to give myself away to my awesome God.

See, there is no reason to change. I am just fine.

Truly Tammy J.

First Kiss

Aubry
"Hahaha, silly goose!"

I haven't laughed for days. And this feels so good. I feel like I've been sitting in the ICU forever. But it has only been seventeen minutes. And traces of those unsettling emotions snuck away. I quickly rewound our conversation in my head. Charles and I simply love talking to each other. About everything. And anything. But all my mind can think of is the tumor. What if the doctors can't remove the tumor? What if the tumor is cancerous? Why Charles? Why him, God? What if his brother didn't call me? What if I never came down to the hospital? Everything was fine until this happened.

"Well, I guess, it's time for us to head back to my car. Visiting hours end in like three minutes." I try to say as breezily as I could to get my mind off the tumor.

"I wish you could stay with me."

I look at Charles. He looks so mellow and quiet. No anxiety. Our conversation rattles me, leaving curiosity of my nightmares coming true. Will Charles die? I tally up all the reasons why I should stay a few more minutes. But I need to go get my car. Thank goodness D came with me, so I don't have to be alone heading home in the rain. I command myself that I need to let this sick man get his rest, even though my first instinct is to stay with him for the rest of the night. So he knows that someone is here for him. In case, he gets scared. I just don't want to leave him alone.

My heart is thudding again. I wonder what Charles is thinking. Or is he thinking at all?

"I wish I could, but be strong. I will be here after your surgery. I promise."

"Good."

"Yes, good."

"Look, it's snowing."

I turn in my seat and look out the window and watch gentle snowflakes fall from the weary skies gracefully. I pray to God that His angels are coming to watch Charles, enfolding their silent wings around him through this dark night.

Standing up from chair, I stretch and put my coat back on, ignoring the knots of fear twisting in my heart. I slowly walk up to his bed and pull the white covers over him like a child. As I button up my pea coat, I lean down, so closely that I could smell his dewy skin. I softly plant a kiss on his forehead where the tumor hides. Lifting my head up, I gaze into the warmest brown eyes I have ever seen in my entire life. I miss looking into those eyes. His eyes feast upon mine. Words scramble through the maze inside my brain. I just don't know what more to say before I leave him. No words could come out. Feelings of pain, fear, melancholy, and anticipation are disappearing. I feel nothing, but peace. I can't pull away. The frustrating noises of the hospital then vanishes and leaves us behind. Our faces tilt towards each other very slowly. Nose to nose. His top lip grazes my bottom lip. Our lips parting, touching. We both hold perfectly still, listening to ourselves breathing together.

This is it.
Seconds that blissfully lead to the inevitable, the unthinkable, the first magical kiss of many.

Mesmerized, I roll away from the side of Charles' bed with a smile.
Everything will be alright.
Time to go.

Charles Sneak Peek

Charles

Vomiting.

Loss of appetite.

Godawful headaches.

Memory loss.

No desire to live.

What is wrong with me?

I don't feel right.

The doctors here at Henry Ford Hospital are trying to figure out what is wrong with me. They keep walking in and out of the room. They can't seem to pinpoint why I am so nauseated nor can they break down why I am having these terrible headaches regularly. They keep looking at me, nodding their heads. Holding closely to plastic folders, they are constantly whispering to each other then looking at me. What are they talking about? Man, I am nervous. But I don't want to be. I just can't be. I came in for them to check out my heart. But I am sure my heart is fine. I just have the Flu.
Watch.

"Mr. Jackson."

"Yes?"

"You and your mother should have a seat. We ran some tests and the results are in."

"Uh, alright."

Mama and I look at each other as we slowly sit down in front of the doctors.

"Your blood tests came back negative. But we found the problem."

"Oh ok, good."

I look at my mother and she is biting her top lip, staring at the doctor's mouth. Maybe she is praying that he says I have the Flu too.

"Charles, we found a tumor."

"A tumor, huh? Are you sure?"

"Yes, a tumor is growing in the left side of your brain."

"Uhhhh.... that is very weird. How did I get a tumor?"

"We are not sure. But, the tumor links with the bad headaches, vomiting and caused memory loss. The excoriating pain comes from the pressure. And it's constantly pressing against your brain tissue."

"Ok, well, ok, what medicine do I need to take?"

"Charles, medicine will not suffice. Medicine will not kill this tumor. Surgery is needed. We have to take it out. Immediately. Because of its size and location in the brain tissue, surgery is critical. If you came in three days later, you would have probably slipped into a coma."

"Brain..."

"The tumor is the size of a balled up fist. We will try to get in a surgery as soon as possible. We are actually trying for tomorrow afternoon."

"Uh...ok. Let's get it done."
I'm starting to feel dizzy and my ears are burning. I can't believe what the doctor is saying. A brain tumor? I don't smoke. I eat pretty healthy. I exercise. I don't do drugs. I barely drink. I sleep pretty good. No, this can't be.

"Where did this tumor come from? I don't smoke."

A tumor. I start laughing. This is a joke. I can't have cancer.

"Here, Mr. Jackson, take a look."

Aubry Sneak Peek

Aubry

Ugh.

What a long day!

Those customers are crazy! And they make me so mad! Rushing to return their stale Christmas presents with pounds of receipts stacked in their pursues and wallets. What a waste of money and my time. I am so exhausted. So ready to crawl in my warm bed. It's freezing out here and I cannot wait to get inside that house and tear these stockings off. Winter is definitely here. And pulling up in the snowy driveway, I can see its clearly not leaving Detroit anytime soon. Huh? My phone is vibrating again. Ugh. A text message from that anonymous number.

"Is this Aubry?"

I almost crashed into the house. Oh my goodness! Now Charlie's brother is stalking me? Great. This is all I need right now. Some guy hunting me down about his weirdo brother. Why is he doing this to me? Why does he want to talk to me so bad? I am so glad that I made it home now.  Let me run in this house so I can curse him out. No. Ill just text so I don't have to worry about calling him back. I don't want to talk. There is absolutely nothing to talk about. I don't know where Charlie is and I could care less. And to think I started liking this dude. He disrespects me by pretending to be my friend, leading me on with hints of romance and bogus love notes. Just trash. Now Vomit Boy is hiding and ignoring me. Please. I am so done dealing with trifling guys. My heart is already crushed. I don't need any more pain. He is dismissed. Ill just text back and get this over with. It's time for me to get in the bed and clear my mind anyway.

"Yes."

He immediately texts back.

"Ok, can you please call me when you get a chance?"

I guess that plan didn't work.

"Ok. Five minutes."

Seventeen minutes just passed. Maybe Ill call him now. Dialing Brandon's number, I walk into the kitchen with my heart hammering against my rib cage. I really don't want to talk to this man. I just want to go to sleep! I am so irritated right now! Just leave me alone! I want everyone to leave me alone! What does Charlie's brother want from me? I haven't heard from Charlie for over 2 weeks. I don't know anything. And I will make sure that this brother of his knows this. 

An unsteady voice answers.

"Hello?"

"Um hello, this is Aubry. You called me earlier?"

"Ah yes, thank you so much for calling me back Aubry, this is Brandon."

"Mmmhmm... ok. What's going on? I just got off from work, sir." Attitude soils my voice tone.

"Uh, ok? Well, I wanted to call and tell you that CJ is in the hospital. He has been really sick these past few weeks and, uh, doctors found a, uh, tumor in his brain, not sure if its cancerous or not.."

"Huh?"

"...and, uh, he is going in for surgery in the morning. He keeps asking for an Aubry..."

"What?"

"...so I thought maybe I could get your number from his phone. It's been dead. Do you think you could, uh, possibly come down to the hospital tonight and, uh, see him?"

"Wait, what?"

My chest rips open. With tears welling up in my eyes, I fall against the kitchen wall, gasping for air.  I feel so weak. And numb. And cold. Words can not even slip out of my mouth. I'm so confused. And I feel like death.

"Um... can...can I...um...call you back?"

***