Choose joy

God, once again, shows me how much He rocks. 

One day last week, I was listening to a Fred Hammond song, "Thoughts of Love." The lyrics beautifully illustrate the unfathomable love of God. I let the words saturate me and felt quiet joy flow through me. Because Jesus loves me, I can be happy and satisfied and smile breezily.  

The same way each morning I choose which shoes to wear or which earrings to slip through my earlobes, I can choose my perspective. Slip my arms through it, wrap it around my legs, fasten it around my waist.  My attitude is not determined by the day's events. I select it and wrap myself in it. I determine whether or not it will remain unchanged. And I decided that I can and will choose joy. 

But it's funny how revelations are so easily forgotten. Last Friday, an unexpected conversation twisted my whole evening. Afterwards, I could literally think of nothing else. I was worried, mentally calculating solutions, trying on results and frowning at the possibilities. The frustration of not knowing what to do and being fearful of all the results made me teary and angry. I fell asleep with the tears spilling onto my pillow.  But the conversation followed me there. I had dreams about it and I woke up exhausted and tight. 

At the start of this new week,  Jesus cleared my head via a Sunday morning sermon. I can be "careless in the care of God and know that my Father is taking care of it. And because He is and He loves me, I will choose joy. 

Thank You Lord (for the millionth time :)

"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don't you think He'll attend to you, take pride in you, do His best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving. People who don't know God and the way He works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how He works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don't worry about missing out. You'll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don't get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes."

-Matthew 6:25-34 (The Message)

Feelings

I think adults underestimate how much children can perceive. 


When I was little, I adored my aunts and uncles, both biological and those who married in.They were like spinoffs of Mommy and Daddy, kinda the same as my parents but more fun. 


There were a few, however, that I always felt uneasy around. It was something intangible that I could never name. The uneasiness and discomfort zoomed in whenever I was around them and it zoomed away whenever they left. In my little mind, I would scold myself for feeling that way. I never voiced any of this to my parents because I felt they wouldn't believe me. I was just a little girl  and it was just a feeling. 


But it wasn't. 


 I was 7 when my aunt Hadassah married my uncle Mac. My aunt is saucy and statuesque with deep brown skin. She has the ability to draw people to her without much effort. He's a burly bearded sand colored man, a former chain smoker. I remember being scared for him every time he laughed because he would always cough violently afterwards. Their common ground must have been their skill at spinning life into joy. Both were consummate jokesters, provoking laughs from any and everyone. 


But after they married,the disquiet in me began. It wasn't that I didn't like my new uncle. But the air around him seemed...less than peaceful, less than healthy. 


Then skeletons tumbled out of the closet. Abuse. Infidelity. Possible mental instability. When I was 10, I wrote in my diary that he hit her. When I was older, I found out that that was the least of it. In one instance, he placed a pillow over her head to try to suffocate her. When I was 19, they separated due to another woman. He's now married to his former mistress. 


I was 8 when my aunt Spiral married my uncle Nick. I saw then that he was colorless. He walks and speaks with a disturbingly passive gait. Attempts to inject humor or life into his conversation were never successfully executed. They didn't fit him. My aunt was especially beautiful with clear caramel skin and a black waterfall of hair that cascaded from her scalp. 


She was gorgeous and exacting.


No one was allowed to wear shoes in the house. When my sister and I would visit them, we were not allowed to drink anything until we finished our dinner. Then we could have a beverage. We  even were not to wear underwear when we slept. I remember doing that reluctantly and looking towards the bedroom door where my uncle had retreated. 


When they married, their wedding was joyless. The smiles, the interactions were tightly performed with no real ease, genuineness, or delight. She gave birth to their only daughter 2 years later. I was 10 and I remember thinking how would she behave as a mother.  


Fast forward to present day where their family is one thrown punch, one lit match, one needle shot away from breaking news. My uncle and aunt have both emotionally left the marriage. They instead race to see who can/will die first. Their daughter, my cousin, seeks solace in deviant behavior that will eventually consume and possibly kill her too. 


All I was was a child with a feeling. I wonder if the adults in my life had those feelings, too. 

Thanks but no

"Who?!" The word shot out of my mouth in a high soprano and at bullet speed. 

 "Roy. The guy on the 4th floor." My coworker's eyes danced and her voice rung tenderly. "Don't you think he's cute? You should date him."

I stood there in stunned silence for a second or two. Once I found my voice,  I said something to the effect of "Thanks but no."

While I am single and waiting/looking, Roy didn't show up on my radar for two reasons. 

Reason #1: We work together. Now, I have seen people succeed at turning a fellow employee into a mate. My aunt and uncle actually met at their job and still work together. So did my parents, come to think of it. But for every fairytale work romance, there are five horror stories.

There's also the unique situation of healing heartache. I know my heart better than anyone else except God. And both He and I know that seeing my heartbreaker five days a week would make any emotional bruises heal at a snail's pace. 

Reason #2: He's not my type. I don't expect to find the perfect man but I'd like him to have some of the qualities I'm looking for. I know that he'll come with flaws but hopefully, they'll be flaws I can live with.  Roy comes with one that's a dealbreaker : Arrogance. When I speak with him for a project or task, I get the feeling that he's dumbing down his speech. His head is always held high as if he's wearing an invisible crown. It can be intimidating but I just see it as annoying.

 My matchmaking coworker told me she tried to introduce the Roy possibility to another young single coworker who shut her down...for all my reasons and then some. The matchmaker rattled off a list of reasons of why we should take Roy off the market:

"He's cute."

"He has a gorgeous smile."

"He's cut because he plays soccer. "

I smiled and refused again while walking back to my desk. A short time afterwards, Roy passes by my desk on his way somewhere else. He's wearing a scent that is heavy and sweet and lingers in my space long after he turns the corner. A minute later, my phone rings with an update from the matchmaker:

"And he smells good."

I burst into laughter. While that's a wonderful thing, it's still thanks but no. 

Just Like Music

I was in elementary school when it started. My father arrived home from work with the gift I had been nagging him about for the past week. I tore open the sky blue J & R bag that held the CD and let out a high pitched squeal. She wore combat boots and chin-length box braids. The debut album of Brandy. That day triggered my captivation with R & B. 

I loved Brandy's mellow dryness over bass beats. I bobbed my head to Aaliyah's smooth crystalline vocals. I tried to imitate Monica's rich runs. Mary J. Blige's unadulterated husky alto ministered to my ears and soul. The three-part harmony of SWV was as sweet as candy. 

 I relived this great part of my childhood last weekend. My sister and I were talking, updating each other on our lives with YouTube music videos supplying the background music. But it was inevitable; the music won over the conversation. We abandoned our chat to search musical archives, digging up 90's Whitney, Janet, Shai, and extreme one-hit wonder Imajin. 

Perhaps I'm biased as a 90's tween/teen but music from that era is timeless. If R & B was born in the 60's and 70's, then it came of age in the 80's and 90's. Then, the genre was still young and open to experimentation, borrowing from faded classic hits to mix with hip-hop. The result was auditory ambrosia.  It's great stuff. 

When the current reigning titans of R & B relinquish their crowns, I can't imagine them having the same or greater effect on their listeners. I'm sure members of the younger generation would beg to differ.

New you

Yesterday afternoon, I saw a real life Afro. A thick luscious Angela Davis-full, Soul Glo-dewy afro. What made the style unusual is that it was worn by a teenager. He reminded me of a lollipop due to the contrast of the massive hair with his popsicle thin body. One of my friends asked him about his hair and why he chose to grow it so long. He responded nonchalantly and guardedly, with no real interest or joy. When he walked away, my friend decided that he wasn't really interested in growing his hair but...

"he's interested in creating a personality."

There could be some truth to that. Sometimes, when we want to generate new selves, we deviate outwardly. Wearing one earring, risque clothing, ultra long acrylic nails, floor length weaves.


Maybe it's because the change is immediately visible. When I was 13, I began to wear glitter on my eyelids. It was some cheap goo I got from a beauty supply store. The shiny flecks made me itch but I thought I looked gorgeous. Dramatically different.  


Of course, it was just temporary. Gradually, I got tired of the glitter and moved on to the next thing that would "transform" me. 


So glad I know now that internal renovation is not as quick but just as important and more lasting. 

Superfluous but loved

I had a conversation with a friend about a week or so ago about superfluous people. You know, those who spit a million honorifics before getting to their actual given names. Those who add every single degree they ever received  (undergraduate, graduate, and honorary) at the end of their e-mail signatures. Those who tout authority over a subject that's doesn't even belong to them. They seek to be seen in the right light, even if it means darkening other peoples' reputations. 


For the past year and a half, I've worked under such a person.  While she is nice and friendly, she walks to her own drum beat and not in a good way. I've seen her "go rogue", skip protocol, and send e-mails to the entire staff about subjects that don't fall under her jurisdiction. She's deftly transferred many of her duties to me and volunteered me to work on projects without my prior knowledge. And worse of all, I've actually witnessed her (and heard from others) make me the scapegoat for things going awry. 


Naturally, all of these things, topped off by possible damage to my name, irritated me to no end. I  began to resent her. Whenever she asked me to do something, a bitter taste would form in my mouth.  


But one day, I remember walking back to my desk.  I was heated up about some incident involving her, and I was ranting internally. But through all that mental ruckus, I heard God say:

"I love her just as much as I love you."

That stopped me in tracks. Despite all of her (professional) flaws and her social faux pas, He loves her completely and eternally. Just as much as He loves old sinful, selfish, imperfect  me. After that moment, I tried harder to have more patience and grant her more grace. And though her treatment of me didn't change much, my perception of her did. 


Unfortunately, as I write this, she may be losing her position due to her work performance. And though the dismissal is warranted, I sincerely pray that she lands well. 



"This is real love—not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins.Dear friends, since God loved us that much, we surely ought to love each other"
-I John 4:10-11

Good Day

Yesterday was a good day. It's been a while since I've had a genuinely good day and because of that, I think God decided to paint my day with laughter. Deep stomach-pinching sweet laughs.

I woke up that morning to a text from a friend that made a smile burst onto my face. During church service, I spent time laughing with some more friends at intentional (and unintentional) funny moments. 

I spent the latter half of the day goofing around and giggling with some more friends. We were laughing at nothing in particular but the laughs were rich and meaty and left me feeling full. When I got home last night, my feet were a bit blistered, due to a poor choice of shoes. But the good outweighed the bad. Yesterday, a friend reminded me of something I forgot (which I often do): 

"Instead of looking at what I don't have, I'm grateful for what I do." 

Grateful for good days. 

Laura's married :)

When I was growing up, the highlight of my week was catching ABC's "TGIF" Friday night line-up. My favorite part was watching nerdy but loyal Steve Urkel pine after the love of his life, Laura Winslow on the sitcom, "Family Matters."  Although Steve's advances of romance were continually spurned by Laura, by the series' end, the two wound up getting married. 


Last month, the actress who played Laura, Kellie Williams, found real life romance. The story brought a smile to my face and made me a little nostalgic for my childhood days in the 90's. I may have to put some "Family Matters" DVDs in my Netflix queue. 

Crush

I was about 6 years old when I got my first crush. He was a wiry little boy by the name of Michael Bell. He had a hi-top fade with three bars shaved into the side of his head. Michael had a deep molasses complexion and was missing his two front teeth. You couldn't help but zero in on the gap in the center of his smile. I was totally in love as were all the other first grade girls. I quickly became a part of the gaggle who swooned daily after him. He knew it, too. But at that time,  I was too young to let cockiness disenchant me. 


As I got older, I would try on crushes and relish them until, like lip gloss, the sparkle faded away. They only lasted a school year, give or take a holiday break or teacher conference days. Looking back, the objects of my affections were as different from each other as fire and ice. One year, it was a pudgy little boy who wore pride like cologne. Another year, it was a silver bespectacled gangly class clown. If I collected all my crushes together, I don't know if I'd find a common theme among them. Maybe it was something in their auras, something in their personalities that reached out and grabbed me. They weren't the perfect package but they had pieces of it. 


I eventually grew out my infatuations and graduated college, crush-free. (However, he's the exception. I think I'll be in love with him for as long as I live!)


With that said, I'm surprised to find myself, at the ripe old age of 25, dealing with a crush. It's a delicious problem. 


Easy is the word that comes to mind when I think of him. He's incredibly easy on the eyes. If my superficial teenage self were to build the perfect man, I do believe she would come up with him. 


His personality is easy.  He's remarkably smooth and fluid. I wouldn't be surprised if he takes a chill pill every morning with his orange juice.  


The only thing that's not easy is how to control myself when around him.  I monitor my voice, my movements, my words, and my actions closely when in close quarters with him. Then I grade myself when he's out of my presence. And I almost always fail. But, in spite of that, I'm always eager to try it again. 


So do crushes in your twenties linger, combust, or grow into something lasting? I don't know. Maybe I'll ask him about it...:)

I hear you

In case I forgot (which I did), God reminded me that He hears me. 

My morning commute yesterday started off simply enough. I easily got a seat on the train and was happily occupied with my headphones and newspaper. At the next stop, a man sat down beside me and a second or two later, so did his scent. It wasn't disgusting but it was certainly foul. I don't know if he didn't brush his teeth or he ate something that wasn't right but one thing for sure: The smell wasn't right. Not willing to risk losing my seat on a fairly long train ride, I hugged the plastic partition that was the other side of me and tried not to breathe in the communal air space between us. 

Once at work, my energy level was quickly depleted. By 11:30, 11:30!, I was ready to call it a day. To top it off, I didn't feel like myself. I felt heavy, emotionally and physically. By this time, clouds sagged in the sky and the dark environment began to influence my mood. 

I needed to finish my work. I needed the old me to come back. So I prayed. "Lord, put me on someone's heart to pray for me 'cause I can't do this."

I shook my head, blinked my eyes, and forced myself to come to life. A couple of hours later, I walked to a co-worker's office to help her with a project. When I got back to my desk, an e-mail pops up from her that read:

"As you left [my office], I asked God to return everything to you that you have sown in the lives of others.  Please don’t discount your value to the body of Christ or to people like me."

He never seizes to amaze me. Thank You, Lord. 

-I will call to You whenever I’m in trouble, and You will answer me.

Psalm 86:7 (NLT)

Sips

It was touch and go there for a second. For a huge chunk of last month, I was draped with heavy feelings. Actually, they were more than feelings. They were like blankets because I felt like I was bundled in them. I felt overwhelmed financially, worried about credit cards and student loans. I felt aimless, not knowing where God wants me to go or what He wants me to do. Should I stay in my current job? Should I leave to pursue something closer to my heart? If so, where and how?  Then the heaviest garment, loneliness, swaddled me from head to toe. I could actually feel it wrap around me at the oddest times: at work, at home watching CNN, even riding in the car with friends.


I remember one night praying and weeping to God. I truly had never felt such a thing. Tears were my daily diet and my nights were frequently restless. But while talking with the Lord, a thought occurred to me, "Take it in sips, not gulps." Sips. When you sip something, it's often because it's hot. It's too much to handle in bigger sections. If you were to gulp it down, you would either burn your tongue, scald your throat or worse, choke. But by sipping, the drink is easier to digest, you can enjoy the taste and best of all, it lasts longer. 


I think I was trying to down it all in one gulp. Discover my true passion, organize my life, and fall in love in one week! LOL. But Jesus reminded me that each day is a sip of my life that I should savor. He can handle the gulps. 


"So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today."
-Matthew 6:34 (NLT)