I WAS SUPPOSED TO

I was supposed to crumble,

And to call it quits. But I wasn’t

Made that way. 

Crumbled, yes but

I bent down and picked up the pieces

Knowing that every piece had a purpose

Pieced back together glued together with scars.

I was supposed to tumble

And fall flat on my face. And I did,

But falling meant my viewpoint shifted.

Tumbled, to adjust, I got up with

New information that the shift provided.

I see better, with hands filled with the crumbs.

I was supposed to cry, your words held the daggers.

Designed to hurt, to tear and to rip open

You dreamt of blood, my blood.

The pain and the blood were merely

Confirmation that I was still alive

That my heart still beat and 

Not to quench your thirst.

Your design was for defeat.

But God had already armed me for victory.

Dodging arrows and patching wounds

Is my specialty. Fearless in my fear.

I was born that way. Fit to fight

Even from the ground.

A gatherer of crumbs

Covered in places you cannot reach.

Falling simply to rest and 

View the battleground from another angle.

Your design was for defeat, but

The only one who was defeated was you!

Photo credit: Humphrey M for Unsplash

I STOOD

 

I stood.

I stomped.

Hard then harder

The ground crumbled beneath my feet.

I saw the frowns on faces

as they watched with confusion.

Assuming my rant was

A temper tantrum. I chuckled.

How dare she pitch a fit

She ought to be grateful being

Allowed to exist.

But it wasn’t a tantrum or a fit.

I encouraged the onlookers to look again.

I stomped and stomped even harder. 

The walls shook too!

Making gold took work and pressure.

But oh, my it was worth it! 

I was worth it!

When God made me, He gathered and pressed

dirt and crumbs; things that others saw as worthless.

Pressing, pressure molding and shaping!

I look in the mirror and belly laugh!

I know that the moles, and bumps,

The lumps and folds mixed with a touch of melanin,

were on purpose! That purpose made me on purpose!

Like fine wine can only be handled in small sips

No one can afford to get drunk off my essence,

because I’m meant to change lives,

but I must change me first.

So, bring your glasses and your curiosity. 

Sit awhile and dine with me as I prepare

a feast and as we dance until dawn

God will be the honored guest and

Praise will be the admission!

Photo credit: Muillu for Unsplash

THERE IS BEAUTY IN MY SCARS (LONG STORY SHORT SERIES)

 

“There is beauty in my scars,” she said, a woman who’d done battle in wars waged against her. She didn’t deserve them, and didn’t ask for them, but she'd faced down warriors ten times her size and won.

Now, she’s facing a world who still thinks it can try her and wear her down, and it will pay dearly for its foolishness. Her wounds are healing, some covered with discolored skin. Yet her scars are medals of valor and honor and purple hearts; her silence does not mean weakness. It means she is taking notes and strategizing knowing that the best battles are won in silence.

“There is beauty in my scars,” she repeated, and there is beauty in yours too! I’m not the only one who’s done battle, you have too! I know pride can hold you in denial but you’re missing the beauty and the blessing. It’s okay to cry and wonder why me; no shame in those tears my sister, absolutely none.

Tears, and scars, lies, and questions why, while life goes on and so does the battle. I am a woman, old, new, and dealing with the consequences of both. I hurt and pretend that I don’t, I struggle with balance as I navigate and participate in my own renewal. But I am here.

No more apologies for the space and the air that I occupy, and I accept that life will bring sorrow and joy, and it will leave wounds and scars and it’s okay because, there is beauty in my scars. God made me and he sees me, and each scar is simply a brushstroke and an image of his handprint, that says, I’ve been kissed and loved by the very One who made me.

“Yes, there is beauty in my scars! Lord, I thank YOU for the scars!” Hallelujah and AMEN!

Photo credit: Actionvance for Unsplash

MY HEART STILL BEATS

 

MY HEART HAS TAKEN A BEATING

RAVAGED BY DEEP FISSURES OF PAIN

BUT IT KEEPS BEATING.

MY HEART HAS HOLES LEFT EMPTY

 DISCARDED AND FORGOTTEN

BUT IT KEEPS BEATING.

THROUGH THE SHRUGS AND MISSED HUGS

THE LIES AND THE CRIES

IT KEEPS BEATING.

SCARS WHERE SOFTNESS SHOULD BE

LORD HAVE MERCY ON ME!

MY HEART KEEPS BEATING.

DOES ANYONE HEAR MY DESPERATE PLEAS?

I’VE FALLEN AND I WANT TO GET UP

THROUGH IT ALL MY HEART BEATS.

THROUGH THE CALLS THAT DON’T COME

I WONDER IF I’M THE FORGOTTEN ONE.

IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR MY HEART STILL BEATS.

BRUISED ROUGH EDGES WHERE SOFTNESS SHOULD BE

DEEP CRACKS, AND VALLEYS, GOD SEES ME.

AND MY HEART, CRACKED, BRUISED STILL BEATS.

HIS LOVE IS SENT THROUGH THE KINDESS OF STRANGERS

UNEXPECTED MOMENTS OF TENDERNESS AN ELIXIR

AND SO, MY HEART STILL BEATS.

WHEN I THINK NOBODY CARES

MY HEART STILL BEATS.

ALMOST OVERCOME WITH FEARS

MY HEART STILL BEATS.

WHEN THE TEARS COME LIKE A FLOOD

MY HEART STILL BEATS.

GOD SENDS HIS ANGELS

TO CARE FOR MY HEART.

HE BREATHES LIFE IN THE DARK PLACES

AND WHISPERS HIS LOVE LIKE FRESH WIND.

AND MY HEART STILL BEATS.

IT STILL BEATS

BECAUSE HE MADE ME

IT BEATS BECAUSE HE IS NOT FINISHED WITH ME YET.

IT BEATS, ON PURPOSE

FOR A PURPOSE

HIS PURPOSE.

AND I’M GRATEFUL AND

HOPEFUL THAT WITH EACH BEAT

I AM MADE STRONGER

WISER

BOLDER

AN OVERCOMER.

EACH BEAT

MEASURED IN PERFECT SYNCHOPATION

IT BEATS

GOD’S DRUMBEAT

HIS TIME

MY HEART

STILL

BEATS.

HIGH PRAISE!

 

Out of time outs!

Time to come back to church.

Time for high ignorant praise!

I took the liberty of referencing my holy ghost Webster’s and this is what I found on the definition of High Ignorant Praise:

That high ignorant praise: (Adj. Verb and a Noun)

High Ignorant Praise is that thing that has been shut up in your bones for far too long and NOW

You are ready to let it go!

That praise where you just don’t care who’s watching or 

what anybody is thinking or how you’re looking.

High ignorant praise is that ugly cry

when your face is contorted, your mouth is open

Showing all your teeth! 

It’s that run around the church

on bad feet and bad knees praise, 

It’s the act of being willing to risk

the heels on your new shoes or the corns

squeezed into those new shoes!

It’s time for some high ignorant praise!

Let’s get ig’nant, just plum crazy for the LORD!

Just because.

Just because he woke you up (yesterday and today)

Just because you can!

Just because it’s due!

Just because it’s time!

Because he saved your life

from sin, from things...

It’s time to stop wondering if its time.

Praise Him! Ignorantly, fanatically, ugly, loud!

PRAISE HIM!

Photo Credit: Akra Hojo for Unsplash

Brand New

 

“...and then I realized that my tears did not make me weak. 

They merely watered the ground where I stood;

the place God had chosen for me to take root, 

and grow, 

and become...

new." 

-Whispers From A Brown Girl

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE A ROCK

 

You thought you were a rock until

Life like a hammer hit you hard

and broke you to pieces.

But you weren’t destroyed, 

You were changed,

and the pieces that you

have become are possibilities,

and blessings and second chances

to start again.

Photo credit: Jachan Devol for Unsplash

BUCKET-DIS

 

You’ve dropped your dreams in a bucket, covered them with dust, and doubt and time. Now it’s time to dig and pull them by the roots from that damp, dark place that has long been forgotten because fear has distracted you and made you forget that you had ever dreamed at all.

Photo credit: Photo by Pedro Da Silva on Unsplash

 

 

THAT GIRL

 

That girl!

Who rose from the ashes because she was the fire!

God blew on the embers of her possibilities.

and combustion happened birthing life to her dreams,

and smiles that fed those places in

her eyes that had grown dark.

That girl!

Who said no... no to surrender!

No to fear. Grasping instead life and love.

Loving the woman God created.

Seeing her flaws as fabulous and

seeing her tears as rain!

I’m that girl!! That girl is me!

Photo credit: Knight Duong for Unsplash

REMEMBER ME?

Hello,

I know you hear me. 

I’m the little girl who birthed your dreams.

Remember when you were invincible?

There was a time when fear was unwelcomed,

and, no, never existed. 

I need you to fight for me, the little girl,

who told you that dreams come true.

You are invincible and fearless!

Turn the no’s, into, now’s.

Wipe your tears with memories of yesterday.

Dance to the beat of my little girl’s heart.

Sing like angels dwell within you and

Dance like air is all you need to hold you up!

Photo credit: Michael Mims for Unsplash

I'M NOT PERFECT - WHISPERS FROM A BROWN GIRL

 

SO THANKFUL THAT I DON’T HAVE TO BE PERFECT 

FOR GOD TO LOVE ME.

WHISPERS FROM A BROWN GIRL

Photo credit: Wadi Lissa for Unsplash

I'M FIRE!

 

It’s not about bad hair but bad air.  I breathe fire you breathe rain.

Dousing water on my dreams sending my hopes into steam! 

What was white hot like hope now lies in a puddle at my feet. 

You stand at the mirror reflecting on your deeds. 

You’ve done good, got away with murder, so you think. 

But little did you know my thoughts were of you! 

I included you in my plans. 

Happy not nappy, you pressed your hair, 

I dared to dream. 

I dreamed a world where I mattered, we all mattered,

 where bad deeds weren’t justified at the mirror. 

I breathe fire let’s breathe fire together. 

Let’s flow like lava igniting everything we touch,

creating islands resting in the new thing we created.

It's not the hair it’s the dare! Dare to dream, dare to be different! 

Dare to be fire-breathing. Breathing life, fearlessly fabulous,

Intentional in our intent.

Fire-breathing, no rain, no tears no dousing flames of hope,

Straining to see through steam distorting the scene.

Now standing before the mirror boldly!

Declaring my wrongs, my rights to hope and breathe,

Because I am fire, white hot liquid fire...

...watch me flow!

Photo credit: Boris Rager for Pixabay

BROKEN

 

I AM BROKEN BUT NOT DESTROYED

BECAUSE AMONG THE PIECES IS MY BREAKTHROUGH.

Photo credit: Troy Wade for Unsplash

UNBOTHERED

 

Dear Lord,

Please give me the strength to be unbothered by the people who found it so easy to let me go, and so easy to walk away. 

Open my eyes to see the space that was freed up in the vacancy they created.

Help me to understand that the real estate was too

valuable to place in the hands of those who did not deserve to hold the deed! 

So now I can breathe without judgement and appreciate the view of what freedom and true value looks like! 

And my what a view!

Whispers From A Brown Girl 

Photo credit: Tabitha Turner for Unsplash

I'M SCREAMING!

 

Inside my head I’m SCREAMING!

Shouting

Crying

Remembering the past

Expecting the worst

Anticipating the future

Moaning in pain

Imagining my breakthrough

Needing a healing

God, can You hear me? 

Photo credit: Simran Sood for Unsplash

I AM A WEED

 

I am a weed. I look like a flower, but I am a weed.

I survive in the harshest conditions without water or seed.

Others would rather be flowers growing hoping I’m not seen.

Flowers have their merit, value, and are held in high esteem.

I am a weed; judged like a book cover and always wrong.

Necessary not a nuisance. I have purpose and I belong.

There are others just like me who accept the deception.

Masquerading as flowers living the norm and not the exception.

I am a weed and though I look like a flower I am still a weed.

Holding my head up because I am proud to be a weed!

But because GOD is so good, He can make this weed a flower!

Because He loves me, I have an assigned purpose and power!

For God wanted some weeds to feed the soil and protect from pests.

In Him will I trust and have no fear! I am a weed and on that I will rest!