I jumped, praying that the ground would rise beneath me, or at least that mmt winds would erupt. Either way, I did not fall.
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
I write. I don't always write well, but I write daily. It is exercise. It is worship. It helps encourage the practice of discipline in my writing.
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 don’t proselytize, I do not boldly declare, I just am. I live a life, wide open, fully committed to the Gospel as I understand it. It is natural. I am filled with a holy boldness, and a little bit dangerous, but only in the most beautiful and sacred way.
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.