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.
Wrestling Back My Peace In crisis, how do you define your faith? Having weathered multiple storms, I've learned... WARNING-you may need to clutch dem pearls… Fb/the idealist Everybody can't handle storms. When they come, if I ain't crying, nobody else gets to. I Do Not Have Time to Hold any Hands. It means that ish …
I don't trust your drive-by prayers
Go where you are celebrated...
Don’t tell me not to be angry. I’m not accusing anyone of anything, so don’t, as my mama says, “get your butt up on your shoulders.” If it’s not your shame, don’t take it on.
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. …
I've undertaken a daily gratitude practice, stopping to write 3 things for which I am grateful. A friend. She called it wholly transformative. She's right. Exhale all that weighs you down, and give thanks.
Black like the night, deep like the seas, perfectly made, Imago Dei. This is who I am. Get used to it.
Even in my evolving, liminal state, I do best to keep my mind and eyes open, and my mouth shut. That is one of Cara Meredith's lessons, far more gently put. Bridge building is an act of redemption, and I learned from her as I read.