Heal Our Land!

This Trip Back into the City, God restored parts of myself...

I never expect a trip to NY to give me anything. I anticipate the horrible sense of withdrawal that I get when I have to let go. I never expect to get any spiritual gifts from the visit. I really don't want to hang on to a lamp post and embarrass myself in my children's eyes as I cry for them not to take me from the city. I keep my mind away from what a visit to NY will do to me.

How can somebody love a city? How can you love such a city? I can't help it. I miss the Cross Island to the Cross Bronx and the LIE to the deepest subway station. I start my rant in my heart, from the moment we say let's go. I imagine myself moving into the subway station at Parsons and living inside the columns that hold up the ceiling. "Listen, lady", the cop would say. "You cannot move in here!"

God knows my heart. He absolutely shows me that he understands my pain. He took on cloud duty on this trip and was making funny faces all the way from the beginning to the end of the trip. That made me more scared. Why would God enter into this little trip to visit family and escape from the storm? God moves in a mysterious way lyrics came to mind:

Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face...

I saw the smiling and jokey faces in the clouds and couldn't help but laugh that He is that humorous and interactive. Now I was really scared. Is there a special sin for thinking about God as a humorist? That is not a sober thought, perhaps not a sane thought. Anyway, that was my thought.

As we crossed the GWB 3 chilling cool senses touched the right side of my head. They were truly cool and sensed. Just as strong as a person touching me on my head, these feelings were on my head for just a moment and then they were gone. Immediately the knowledge of directions flooded in and the memories of prayerful motivations flooded in. The many days of sitting in traffic facing the opposite way and hoping to carry some of the burdens of prayer to a meeting of the saints, seemed like a solid thing, not an impulse.

I don't believe that my city is the city of destruction anymore. I love this city and I want to see it in heaven with me. How imbecilic of a thought to think that God can save this inanimate object that you love?

That is me. I love this inanimate object that represents millions and millions of people's hearts and minds and ambitions and commitments. Shame on me. Concern yourself about your own ambitions and family and stop making the city your own. God let me know that He loves them more than I do. God let me know that my heart is not big enough to hold a city, but His is. I am certainly glad of that! I can leave the city in His magnificent hands and know that He's got this!

I didn't cry one tear on the way home and I didn't move into the subway. I was able to let go again and know He can hold me through this detachment again.

Temper Tantrums and Post Partum?

I do dearly hope that your every dream comes true. My imagination that the US Open would have Black Women in the finals came true yesterday. I felt like my soul was hanging in the balance as these amazing swashbuckling women hit harder and harder than I ever dreamed that the ball could go. I could see the confidence and the determination that makes winners and the strength of mind and heart that can be overcome to become a loser. She didn't imagine that a ball could come at her as hard as she has hit at other people. She didn't imagine that a person could challenge her every resolve to get up from the floor.

Serena was bettered! I thought I would never see that day. I thought those girls would just retire and leave the game bereft of any following in their footsteps of hard and fast and powerful matches. I like the feminine game. I like to see long rallies and finesse, but I love what the Williams' have done to the game as well. I thought that perhaps there were a way to create two different games out of what they had done.

I drooled this past year to see the longer matches and dramatic athletacism that the younger players were enjoying while the most recent Queen of the Courts took her sabbatical. I loved reminiscing about what women's tennis used to be. It all came together, when those women bashed the mess out of those cans of balls, yesterday.

I remembered the day that Martina, said "why can't we go to the net, like the men?" I remembered how my father was trying to drill that kind of venomous determination into my game. What is woman's tennis and what is neutral? How could followers of "Chrissy style" of game ever become aggressive hard-hitting bashers of the ball? My dad thought you could just put a new piece into my game, like a vacuum cleaner and create "more power".

Like going to the store for a personality and a play style was yesterday's game. That is what I wanted you to do and be. Keep your feminine demeanor and smash that ball, like I know you can. That is going to take 2 more generations of play, Dad. I wanna be Chrissy! I wanna be a ball move and spinner. I wanna run around the court and hit my two handed backhand from the baseline until the cows come home. I loved feminine Tennis. He saw the future and the masculine side of the game. Don't even think, just bash it! He indeed did beat that reflex into my game, but a part of me died, trying to get to that game.

I saw the mantle passed. I saw whaat Dad was saying and we all genuflect to an amazing new generation who loved gramps enough to see that there is no dichotomy between femininity and power! I love you Serena!

I am amazed by Naomi!

It is YOUR TURN! don't you ever stop crying!

Glad you are feeling better!

I would try a little fried okra for any residual congestion, there might be. I know you might not like it, but it never fails to do the trick for my persistent coughs and colds. I am going to be taking some today, just for the symptoms that I am having from hearing about your house's creeping cruds.

NY is full of germs, as you are quite aware. That many people sharing seats and handles of things can't help but breed the worst of sicknesses. Don't be deceived, like Pocahontas. Delicate bodies, like ours, reared in the seclusion of the burbs, are always hotbeds for the worst of sicknesses. What makes city bodies stronger, can truly take us under. Don't you forget it and if you dare try to catch small pox, there in the city, I will come there even into your grave! Don't think you are getting away from me that easy!

the Queens Aviary

While in New York, please don't forget to take my baby to the zoo!

Fear is Crippling, Fear of God is Empowering

Everyday, I face the fears that my father impressed into my soul. There are rational fears and there are irrational ones. When I look at my Zayden, I understand the depth of some of the fears that my father expressed, regularly. Because we loved him, we embraced his fears and some of them came to rest in our own souls to be brought to the cross, in the sanctification process. When I see the things that bring my Zayden to a fluster, because he can't move the large pieces of his body at his own will. "Someone has to move me. What if they don't come to me?" He cries so pitifully. I am trying to help him learn to move those parts of his body to get around, but until then, we can't just let the other children climb on him. When I went to the beach, I remember the enormous fear that was my father's that one of the children would drown. He couldn't save us. He never went in, He just stayed on the sidelines in that ocean "discotec". The dance floor was his freedom. He couldn't move any better, in any other arena than that. Someone had taught him to move his body at his own will to melody and He could feel the freedom that noone had to help him. I see that his injuries had made him feel like an invalid, all the more than he was. He was fanatical not to have a sissy handshake. He practiced making sure that those huge non-feeling hands didn't crush another person's hand or sit limply in theirs, for fear. This was awesomely important to him. I always wondered why is he so scared? He can fight anybody. What is he afraid of? I always wondered, what could make a big man pretend to disappear in a car when he sees someone that he knows here or there. ,p>There were some guilty feelings that were attached to his fears. He despised being carried and couldn't imagine the strength of a person or machine that could have lifted him. I think of his fears when I hear that song that I posted here. I think about how God is subduing the multiple fears that my father implanted into my heart {some for safety, some for convenience and even the ones implanted for fun}.

I know that God is greater than any fear that I have. I sat face to face with my fears at the beach. I love the beach, but it takes time for my maternal, fearful mind catches up to everyone being a grown up. There are no babies here, mommy. All the seagulls comfort me with that reminder. The fledgeling are flying, now. You don't need to be afraid, mommy. I am grateful that Jesus understands my heart and soul and doesn't despise a mother's complicated heart.

Today is my Daddy's 79th Birthday and I am Celebrating the Heavenly Father! Aunt Delores used to sing this song and I found it on Youtube!

We had such a good time at Aunt Lee's house in SC. I had to add this song to my blog.

Thirty five years ago today, we spent the night at Aunt Jackie's house...A Sleepover, I will never forget!

Strawberries and cream for breakfast, My sister Julia, My friends Paulette and Brenda and a hope that my dearest friend Pam would make it, though nine months into her first pregnancy would prove to keep her from it. Darling girl Karla Gail stepped in at the last moment and played a beautiful junior bridesmaid for my great day. We took pictures and laughed like no other day that I could remember. There was a bubble around us, that seemed unlikely for the grief cloud that was hanging.

Grandma told us to go on, without her. Grandma wanted this for me, more than I did. If he is a faithful man, that is what I want for you. She was the boss of the hour. She had bought the dress, since she couldn't have made it, etc. We sat and planned the photo shoot moments, she and Aunt Lorraine and me. I had forgotten until I saw Aunt Lorraine fulfilling everything that Grandma told her to do. Then the tears started. She missed it! Or did she? She was certainly there for every moment of it! Her spirit was keeping the levity in a moment that I would never forget. Auntie and Gram and me had known why it had to go on! She made me know that she was in on the heavenly occasion in a way that couldn't be repeated or erased.

Pastor Tom May stood between the bickering factions of Protestants and Catholics in grief, excellently. He represented truth and Doctrine, which was our common marital desire. Children who might grow up to know what they believe and live in the light of their faith. We thought that was what we wanted and we talked about it all the time. They will not be deceived, we hoped. They will know what God's Word says and not be ignorant Christians, we committed.

Grandma's hope was love and fidelity, something that had eluded her for her life. God comforted her through the preparation of this wedding of another eldest child, as she had been. Ma was eldest and she was eldest and she taught me that I should speak up for myself. Not my strong suit. Not a habit of mine. Whatever, Gram, I usually took her words for granted as the complainings of not having gotten her way. I hope that she was able to attain unto the heavenly home through the miracle of repentance, which is available, even when the church casts you out because of your lifestyle. Heaven is the ultimate reparation of damages that men can do to the soul of a woman. Jesus welcomes us, when men have their way and cast us aside. He was the God of Hagar. He was the God of Sarah.

Repentance is available to all for the cleansing of our sins. I was able to forget, because Aunt Jackie had given us a respite. A happy journey had begun! I did! He did, and here we are 35 years and many children later!

Don't Forget to Cover Your Children!

The moment of graduation from college has reminded me of the importance of the teamwork of family. When you are brooding over the condition of your children, don't just wander in concern, cast your cares onto the only one who can do anything about them. Cover them with prayer and loving intentional direction. No matter how far they go or how close they may be, keep them in your truest concerns before the throne of God. This will give you the peace to go on and the comfort that God has it.

As we celebrate the graduation of Evie, I am washing the blanket that I made for her and remembering all of the prayers that went into that crocheted cloth. I know she felt it. I know that she knew that I was still missing her and loving her, though out of sight. It wasn't colorful and it wasn't the most intricate stitches that I could follow. It was just a simple square of crocheting that gave me strength and not even big enough to cover her whole body, but the warmth was strong and deliberate. I was loving her from afar and my fears were turned into burdens which were lifted at Calvary. I had many questions and God gave me a peace. The Lord covers them, ultimately, far better than any prayer of ours or blanket. But, the blanket is a symbol of that covering that God has given. Halleluia, What a Savior! God bless all of our graduates!

It would spoil your supper, Not quite heavy enough to be called desert, but in a chocolate crunch...It'll do!

My blended mixture of nondairy pudding lasted in the freezer for the week and it still tastes good. I love it and I am a chocoholic. Maybe it is a breakfast alternative for me to "Cocopuffs". I don't know, right now I just know it is my new favorite creation.