I heard this song not to long ago. The song was perfect. No pun intended. I think I've said it before, music speaks to me LOUDLY. I can close my eyes and feel ease in the melody, rhythm and lyrics. I've come to think that being a PK has created a tolerant, nonjudgmental in me. I see people for who they are and not who created them to be. I remember talking to a young lady on the brink of divorce about her situation. My first words to her were, "I don't actually believe in divorce. I believe whom God has joined together....." I immediately saw her shut down. Her eyes and her head dipped low.
I smiled, then I continued, "But I also believe that there are couples that were never meant to be together in the bond of matrimony. In my mind they where never married to begin with. They had a ceremony, they had a rite of passage. They were never married. They just need the law to confirm that."
When the young woman heard me say I didn't believe in divorce, she once again felt trapped in a situation that needed resolution and absolution. But church didn't offer that. They gave her....
You need to stick it out. There must have been something that made you get married to begin with. You need to rekindle the flame How is that gonna look?
I can't ever blanket situations. That's what my story has created. There are way too many variables in peoples lives. I can't condemn someone that has attempted suicide. As a matter of fact I understand them. There are times when the darkness feels stronger than the light. My heart goes out to teen moms, because someone failed them. And I can't tell someone don't get a divorce because their situation may just be beyond the stage of reconciliation, simply because they made a mistake.
So I come to "Leave and Cleave" and I wonder how many people left home to attach themselves to someone with all intentions of staying with that person forever and it just didn't work out.
"....Some days I feel like ____, some days I wanna quit and just be normal for a bit....." Where'd You Go - Fort Minor
"Just tell them you are not interested in church or church work, that's all". I remember when I heard those words echo loudly through the ear piece of the phone. It ALMOST brought me to tears. Then I swallowed hard and said, "Well I'll tell him word for word what you said". I think I had had enough. I was over 21 and I didn't think that it was fair for someone to make me feel guilty for just needing to take a break.
I had almost finished with my book and still didn't have an introduction. They say the Lord works in mysterious ways. Somehow while I had a knot in my throat, he was working. I had found my introduction.
You ever do something so much that you begin to feel lost in it; like you just exist. It no longer excites you, where before you defended its very existence and reason, you begin to feel lethargic and like you're stuck in a rut?
Granted I still found worth in what I was doing. I was still quite "saved". Although I was beginning to have completely different views as to what that meant. But most of all I still loved Jesus and wanted to please him. I was just through with making everyone else happy at the expense of my personal happiness. I was done.
I don't think we value honesty in churchdom. After all we're the "Fake it, til you make" people.
Allow me to offer the truths that I felt:-
I honestly was tired
I honestly needed a break
I honestly didn't need someone telling me "You'll be fine"
I honestly wanted someone to hear me out
I honestly felt like running away
But maybe we don't want honesty......
For the first time in a long time, I felt my baby move. And not just move; it was an actual kick. Any of you remember when you first realized that you were ”carrying” and can identify with every emotion that the territory comes with. There’s an unparalleled excitement. You want to share your good news with everyone, because you can’t imagine anyone not being as excited or happy as you. Sooner or later when everyone starts giving their advice on your baby, you begin to share less and keep your mind on your due date. But what happens when you don’t feel what you know is normal in your condition? You feel time has stopped, you’re overdue and your baby isn’t moving. Then you begin to worry about the fulfillment of what was conceived so long ago. You worry and you fear that there may be something wrong with your baby. And when a period of time passes and nothing happens your biggest fear is that your baby might be dead.
No, I’m not pregnant. But I’m still carrying a dream that I’ve long had. I didn’t want an aborted dream. But I was so afraid that that was happening.
At first I thought my dream was stillborn, but came to realize that there was a big difference between an aborted dream and a stillborn dream. If my dreams ended up being ”stillborn”, it was because there was nothing I could do about it. It was too much for me to carry or even handle. It just couldn’t sustain itself and it wasn’t ready for the outside world. A lot of people have stillborn dreams and I honestly thought that was my case. But it wasn’t so, my dreams were being aborted. And it was because either I or someone I’d given opportunity to had purposely and forcibly began to destroyed my dream.
I think what was happening was, I was willfully letting someone give me an abortion. It was someone that didn’t understand. They didn’t know or didn’t care how long I’d been wanting and longing for the manifestation of what I’d conceived. They weren’t there through the tears of conception, when I cried out ”I need more”. They weren’t there when I sat on the edge of a bed asking if there was something wrong with me. They didn’t know that I questioned my ability to conceive, let alone give birth. And gradually I allowed them to kill my baby.
From the time I conceived, I was excited. It took a while before I realized everyone didn’t understand my conception, nor did they share in my excitement. Maybe it’s because what people don’t understand they seek to discredit. I don’t know if it was merely anxiety, but even people that I expected support from, didn’t show any. I think that was why I partly forgot that there was something on the inside of me that needed nurturing for it to be healthy enough to grow and be born, free of defects and deficiencies.
I stopped feeding the dream. I stopped seeking advice on how to keep it alive and healthy. I had heard so much negativity about my conception and subsequent pregnancy. I had heard so much talk of ”what are the possibilities of you accomplishing that?” and ”Do you know how hard that is?” that they convinced me that my dream was too much of an undertaking. I began to think that I didn’t want my baby.
I continued month after month with a dying baby. I stopped even listening when encouragement came saying, ”You’re almost at your due date.” simply because I had fostered so much negativity. I began to tell my dream, ”you’re too much for me”, ”we’d both be better off if I let you go”. This is why I knew it wasn’t a stillborn. With the stillborn dream there comes a peace, because you’ve done all you can.
That aborted dream is the one that kills you, because YOU gave up, not the dream. As I lay back with an inexperienced, uneducated, misguided, back alley dream killer; inside me, a baby struggled to survive, because it wanted to live. And I felt a kick. See as I lay there, with my heart breaking because I didn’t want my dream to die. Someone came by and said to me,
”You are a unique woman, don’t be afraid because what you carry in you greater than you could ever imagine and will be born.” ”HOLD ON, Ali, HOLD ON!”
And my baby kicked!
That was a few days ago and it’s been kicking ever since.
Now every day, when get up, I rise with a completely different outlook and a burning to make this happen and see this to the end. I rise knowing that I’m just that much closer to my due date and I WILL DELIVER a healthy dream!
So maybe I’m saying this for you…. If you pay close attention, and stop ignoring it, you may feel your (dream) baby kick too!
I thought about that scripture recently. How many Christian parents do you really think believe that scripture? I think they believe "...and my God shall supply all my needs", they even believe "in all thy ways acknowledge him and he shall direct thy path", I'm sure they believe, "...that whosoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life".
So how about "Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he shall not depart from it." My translation: If you put God and God's values into your children, they will ALWAYS remember. I think it must have meant a lot for it to be said in the Old Testament and then illustrated in the New Testament. Say what you like but when I reflect on the story of the Prodigal, I get more than the typical tale of "runaway child". I see a story of redemption, a story of patience, a story of Godly training that was never forgotten.
You never forget lessons well taught. I look at Christian parents that have a such a fear that their children will end up "worldly" that they shelter them from EVERYTHING and I wonder if they themselves doubt the foundation that they've given their children.
I think this especially of PK's. After having been in church all their lives, having been taught the same lessons and principles day in and out that have been given to the congregation, why is it so hard to believe that as Scripture says, if you train them you don't have to worry about it. So did you teach the lessons? Did you give the children in your care over to the God that you believe in?
I look at the Old Testament account of Hannah. That woman left her child in the care of the Priest Eli. Now from the record of Eli, personally I don't think that was a good idea. The Word said that Eli's sons were a mess. And she left the ONE child she had cried and prayed for with this man that did such a bang up job with his own sons!
But she realised that all she could do was give him over to God and TRUST that he would do the rest. I think that that's all he expects. Fulfill your end of the command and if he's the God you claim he is, TRUST that he'll hold up his end.
You ever get to the point where the words aren't enough? They say it takes more muscles to frown than to smile. Not true. When everything you do is not enough, and everything you do is commented on and criticized, it takes every inch of your body, mind and soul to wear that smile. When "I wish that she would used the intensity, she has for this; toward something else" is echoed in your ear, the frown is so much easier. But it's the God in me verses the one I see, that moves me!
I've always been the encourager. I'm the bubbly one. No questions about it, whenever you have a problem count on me. I know the verse that will lift you. But sometimes the words aren't there. I remember watching "The Seventh Sign" with Demi Moore, there was a line that said,
"But a day will come when the sparrow sings no more...
"...because there are only a finite number of souls in The Guf. "It`s when the last soul is used, and The Guf is empty, that the world will end.”
I think my soul is empty......I didn't think it was possible. But Lord knows I'm Tired.
I remember when my Godmother took me to get my ears pierced and my first haircut. Lord, that was a big deal. I don't think she'd gotten permission from my parents. But that's a whole 'nother story. That was the weekend that I went to my first concert. It was the weekend I knew without a doubt what I wanted to do with my life. Once again completely different story. But it was also the weekend that I realized that the world had a style all their own. And I needed to catch up.
Church style has evolved and I grew up in the era of past the knee skirts, a wedding ring and no make up. Where are you going painted like Jezebel? (Granted I've read that scripture and maybe I have the wrong version but it never gave me that impression). I remember before we evolved into a more attractive Christian, I actually heard a preacher site in his sermon to women that some of them needed really needed makeup so they should embrace the idea.
But as a PK the pressure to be age appropriately fashionable while being watched was always a challenge. I remember when we thought that the rules may have been relaxed and the girls started wearing jeans to Youth Meetings, an elderly woman from the neighborhood, that didn't even attend our church; raised such a hullabaloo that we were instructed from the pulpit on Sunday that we were to wear skirts from there on.
When I became Youth Minister, I decided I'd go toe to toe with anyone that told my kids what they can and can't wear. My church is in the inner city, I was just glad they came to church. I didn't have time to make the boys wear ties, or measure the girls skirts. Whenever they wore something that was more socially acceptable I would compliment their attire. Eventually, the boys stopped wearing jeans to Sunday services and started coming in ties, and the girls retired their party skirts and started looking like they were applying for bank jobs. I never told them to change their attire. I smile when I see them, because as a PK I learned to lead by example.
While I still get odd looks when I decide to wear a sleeveless dress at church, it's become a non issue for me. I'm not Muslim, I'm completely covered and I look good.
Some of my most thought provoking moments have come from within the hallowed walls of the sanctuary. Take for instance when a female guest preacher was preaching what I now assume was a soul stirring sermon. (You'll see why I don't remember it in a minute.)
I was always attentive in church. It was how I was raised. Adults speaking, I paid attention. My mother would tell you from the age of five to adulthood she could probably count the amount of times that I fell asleep in church on her narrow little left hand and still have fingers left over. And in retrospect, I'm glad, because my church memories would have given me smiles on my cloudy days.
My age at the time that this happened is a blur, but the event shines like crystal in my mind. The female minister had gotten the crowd on their feet. They were behind her. They were receiving her message as from the Lord and then the strange and downright hilarious happened .....
HER WIG CAME OFF!
I wish I was kidding. Her wig flew off her head and onto the podium. I remember thinking, is someone gonna pick it up? No one moved. So there she was in her exposed stocking cap. And I don't mean the nice store bought stocking caps, she had a coffee colored stocking that she had deconstructed and now it looked like an over-sized condom on her scalp. Did she stop preaching?
NO!
That woman didn't even skip a beat. She kicked her glory to the side and kept delivering her message.
Honestly, I don't know why more people don't attend church.
