Throwing stones

It's painful to watch.

Hurts to listen to.

Troubling to read.

Smooth gray pebbles of verdicts. 

Crumbly mud balls filled with disdain.

Jagged caustic boulders thrown...

hurled...

tossed.....

targeted...

at her. 

There are many sides, perspectives, and truths to the Fantasia Barrino situation, facets that are unknown to most. But the lack of complete knowledge hasn't stopped people from making absolute judgments and statements about everything involving her.  

Her lack of morals.

Her talent.

Her beauty. 

Herself. 

It's so easy for us to gather up stones to punish someone who has, publicly or privately, fallen short. 

But the truth is we all have. 

Leave the rocks on the ground where they belong. 
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"If you judge people, you have no time to love them."
- Mother Teresa

Fearless

The younger me was such a scaredy cat. 

Dark rooms frightened me. The thought of monsters made me cringe with terror. Dozens of doll portraits my aunt had displayed in her house made my heart freeze with panic.

But, hands down, the biggest fear I had was the ice cream truck. 

While walking home from school, my sister and I would pass a gated parking lot that contained a white ice cream truck.  Emblazoned on the sides was a red-haired clown wearing a wide maniacal grin. The truck never seemed to move but would sit there, day after day, month after month.

The rumor was any kid who walked by the truck would get taken and never seen again. 

Bad things happened to these kids. 

Scary things. 

So, when approaching the lot, my heart would beat faster, my eyes would grow wider, and my legs would whip past, hoping to outpace the scary girl-and-boy hating clown inside the mysterious truck. 

I told my mother, hoping she would provide some type of protection 

But instead, she said, 

"You have nothing to worry about."

I have nothing to worry about? Did this woman love me? Does she not know that there is a crazy creepy clown inside an ice cream truck? I'm going to get kidnapped the next time I walk by and she says don't worry?

"There's nothing to worry about," she said without a hint of concern. "If there was something serious like that going on, it would be on the news."

Drunk with disbelief, I stared at her from behind my strawberry milk colored glasses and concluded that she indeed did not love me. She was crazy. 

And she was right. 

The more I thought about her reasoning, the more it made sense, the more my fear slunk away. And though I never found out the story behind the abandoned ice cream truck, nothing ever happened. No child was abducted or maimed or hurt. 

It was an unfounded fear.

Being an adult, she knew more than me, and knew that nothing like that could have happened. 

Trusting her and her wisdom took away my alarm.

Most of our fears lie in our lack of control or lack of knowledge about the matter. Wonderful to know that trusting the intelligence and mastery of Jesus can leave us fearless. 

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"Since God assured us, 'I'll never let you down, never walk off and leave you,' we can boldly quote, 'God is there, ready to help; I'm fearless no matter what. Who or what can get to me?'"

-Hebrews 13:5-6

Trash

In most downtown cities, homeless people are a dime a dozen. Dirt streaked bag ladies limping past. Fuzzy bearded men clutching empty McDonald's cups to catch a few flying quarters.  A person, man or woman, shrouded in a ratty blanket underneath a bus shelter. They can blend into the background of life, barely catching anyone's eye. 

But this one did. 

One afternoon, I saw a man sifting through a garbage can. He was an older man, around 50. It was obvious he was looking for food. People breezed past him, often cutting a wide turn to avoid any contact with him. But for some reason, he touched a tender part of me. I went into a nearby store, bought some food from a hot bar, and walked over to him. 

"Sir," I said softly. " I have some food for you."

He didn't acknowledge me. I stood in front of him and repeated, "I have some food for you."

But he still didn't respond. As I looked closer at his face, I saw that his eyes were glazed with intent, feverishly pawing through the trash. 

I stood for a few seconds longer but it became obvious that he didn't want the food. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I walked away, leaving him to search for what I was already offering him. 

Months later, God replayed this memory to show me something astounding:

We do this to God all the time. 

When God is handing out abundant and full lives, we ignore it to take part in a fractured conflicted existence.

We say no to healthy loving relationships in favor of toxic dead ones. 

 We refuse His offering of freedom, contentment, and purpose to stay put in our complacent empty niches. 

We take trips to garbage dumps...

We munch on decayed fruit and rotten meat....

We fall asleep on crumbled newspapers and soiled sheets....

Why do we do that when God is giving away,giving away, so much more? 

When He wants to give you so much more than you realize?

More than pause

Ever feel like you're spinning even when you're standing still? 

I sat down on my couch and closed my eyes. I had finally reached the end of a long work day. My belly was full, my house was clean, and my forehead was cool. 

But my mind wasn't. 

Prayer requests flashing red. 

Family issues buzzing like bumblebees. 

Unfocused purpose gliding sloppily around my heart. 

Names and cares of friends pounding on my memory. 

Unfulfilled desires tiptoe as they chant softly. 

Insecurities of every kind boom and clang intervallically.

Behind my shut eyelids is a merry-go-round, twirling at an unbelievable speed. 

It made me want to jump off. 

Shut the door. 

Click off the lights. 

Get away from this life for a bit. 

More than put my world on pause but put my world on 

Stop.

Erase.

Refresh.

----

"In the multitude of my anxieties within me,Your comforts delight my soul."

-Psalm 94:19

Dudes Don't

It's common knowledge that men and women are different. Men have greater physical strength. Women are better at relating emotionally. A man's body is a series of angles while a woman is a composite of curves.

But who knew that even the little everyday things both of us face flow differently?

My coworker Bernard broke it down to me:

Dining

"If I go out to eat, alone or with a guy friend, I sit at the bar," he said.

"What!?" I exclaimed. "You wouldn't sit at a table?"

He turned his head side to side in disapproval. "No, we gotta sit at the bar. Especially if I'm eating alone. If I'm by myself, at least I can talk to the bartender or look at the T.V. If a man sits alone at a table, he just looks sad."

Hmm. "Not even a booth though? If there were four of you...?"

He sucked his teeth as he pondered.

Finally, he said, "Maybe."

Movies

"When I go to the movies with one of my boys, we don't sit next to each other."

I laughed. "Why not?" Every movie I've gone to see, whether it was with a man or a woman, we sat side by side, occasionally brushing elbows as we shared the use of the cup holder/armrest.

"Men just don't. He has to be a seat or two over or up. The only guy I sit right next to is my brother."

Bernard shook out his arm as he finalized, "You need that space."

Beds

When I have guests over, I usually give them my bed while I sleep on my couch or an airbed.

But Bernard shook his head at that.

"Only my mother can sleep in my bed," he declared. "I had a friend of mine come over and I didn't see him brush his teeth once...he can't sleep in my bed."

I was intrigued. "Really? What if a friend of yours had major surgery and had to stay with you. Where would they sleep?"

A handful of seconds passed.

"My couch pulls out. They'll be fine."

I told him," Well, there have been times when I'm visiting a friend where we share a bed."

At that admission, Bernard responded with a blank stare.

"No...just no. Dudes don't do that."

Our differences are indeed amazing. 

Change

Whatever they were talking about had to be good. I heard Amy's spirited alto and Bernard's stubborn tenor going back and forth like a game of tennis.  As I got closer to Bernard's desk, I heard, 

"It has to be a certain grade, a certain type."

He wasn't talking about meat. He wasn't talking about a car. He was talking about hair. 

"He doesn't date girls with natural hair," explained Amy, her voice coated in disbelief. 


"No, it's not that," Bernard countered quickly. "But if it's the dry coarse kind, then they have to straighten it." 


His statement made me think.


 I wondered how many gorgeous and wonderful women he passed over because their hair coiled too much. 


I wondered how many of his girlfriends had hot combed their kinks into flat strands.  


And I really wondered, 

How much of yourself should you

modify

alter

 change

 add

 subtract

  for someone else?

Physical appearance is inarguably one of the strongest factors in attraction. Both men and women savor pieces of eye candy that walk into their lines of sight. But I wonder how much of what we do to change our looks is for ourselves.


Is it more to catch eyes....?


Is it more to keep eyes....?  


Even our personalities can be affected by what our significant other thinks. Audacity is carved into meekness. Thoughtfulness is sharpened into selfishness. What's loud becomes soft. What's low becomes high. 

Soon, who you were is gone. 

Relationships can be catalysts for change. But sometimes, they can refashion a person into someone altogether new. 


Not better. 


Not worse. 


But different. 

Be sure that you can live with the difference. 


When the relationship is over, you'll still have to live with you. 

Shift

The text made my shoulders droop. Queasiness snaked through my stomach. Her distress fell on me like a bowling ball and I sharply exhaled from the sudden weight of it all. I staggered into the office stairwell, my vision blurred as tears filmed my eyes.  My heavy sigh sounded hollow in the empty stairwell as I tried to deal with the heaviness sitting on me.

"Lord, what's going on with my family?"

My 16-year-old cousin Lianna has always been such a quiet soul. She's never really shared much about herself to our family, only allowing another 16-year-old cousin, Tia, into her world. She is a proud Mommy's girl, never seeming to leave her mother's side and tagging along happily on tedious and often unnecessary shopping trips and errands. 

We know that she is reserved. We know that she loves music. We know that she loves her family.

But we wondered. 

About her sagging jeans. 

About her triple X size hoodies and T-shirts. 

About her utter horror at having to wear make-up.

About how she had to be forced to wear dresses. 

About her distaste for wearing her shoulder length hair in curls and waves and desire to wear it in cornrows. 


We wondered.


 And we found out when she told her mother that she was interested in women. 


Her mother weeped from the lowest part of herself, her heart broken. Once I heard what happened, I immediately began praying for my aunt and her reaction/thoughts about this ordeal. I  asked God to watch over my cousin, to free her from that spirit and to restore her heart, mind, and soul.


But while pondering and praying about them, I had to insert a spiritual addendum for Tia.  


Tia is a natural beauty and charmer. Her honey colored eyes and smooth chipmunk cheeks have given her many a high school admirer, a fact that she unapologetically enjoys. She was born to delight, easily eliciting smiles and laughs from anyone she encounters. 

Life hasn't been so delightful for her lately.

Tia's relationship with her mother has been typical, both rocky and smooth. But their 18 year age difference has put them on a level that fosters deep affection but washes away important boundaries.


 Recently, her mother did something out of the ordinary:


She viciously cursed at her and her 8-year-old sister. 


While physically disciplining the younger girl, her mother turned on Tia, who had intervened. Her mother spat at Tia to 

"mind her f****** business. Who the f*** is she?"

She then announced that she doesn't give a f*** what the two girls eat for dinner because she wasn't cooking s***.

The anger and the language and the viciousness with which it was used shocked the two daughters. They spent that night crying from hurt and fear. Tia had decided that she had enough and wanted to leave home to live with a relative. 


Tia's text about the events collided with Lianna's already spinning tornado and absolutely knocked the wind out of me. I tried to soothe and mend as I could, asking God for guidance, for direction and for words to say. 


Soon, I ran out of words. 


And strength. 


It's funny; sometimes you don't think anyone else sees the strain you feel. 


I asked my life coach to add them to her prayer list, which she did. But she also was concerned about me and told me something I forgot (which I often do):

"You need to shift all this off you and onto God. Cast it on the One who is really equipped to carry it."

Though we are to bear one another's burdens, we certainly aren't built to bear them forever or for long.


Shifting it off to Someone with stronger shoulders...

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For He knows how weak we are; He remembers we are only dust.
-Psalm 103:14