Despite my treatment (and the millions of those like me) by this country, even as my voice (and at times my body) trembles, I rise, asserting my rights. I display the flag upside down. I am in EXTREME DISTRESS.
We're doing it all wrong. What if we're not supposed to pour out all we have before restoring our portion. What if what we're supposed to give is our overflow?
I truly wish that I was a more trusting child. Sadly, I am not. I'm going to require a little extra work, but I know You. I fully understand that I am just a moment in Your Eternity, and that You can be patient with me.
Whenever I am forced to slow down, I collapse. I remain vigilant, though. Let's be clear....yes, I saw that, and no, I won't forget it.
I don't care about your tears. I've been suffering in silence for so long that I've forgotten how to complain.
Go where you are celebrated...
What are we celebrating?
My husband brought these to my attention. Women of African descent in America are like desert flowers. We don't need your water. We thrive with or without your attention. We are uniquely beautiful. Come for us, lacking in sufficient care and consideration, and you will walk away remembering the experience, for better or for worse. …
Prayer, pre-dawn workouts, and sunrise-chasing walks with your dog are prescriptions for joy. When life eFs up your plans, yell "Plot Twist" and keep it moving.
Black like the night, deep like the seas, perfectly made, Imago Dei. This is who I am. Get used to it.