Inmypromise White

Let me see you! Say it to my face. The shrugged shoulder I used to deflect your blows caused deep wounds in your soul. I learn how to better love me by watching you push me away. I learn what not to get offended by; taking notes to what you raise your finger at. Raised finger, like going to church and tipping out asking permission of a master not present. I sought you out. I chased you into the darkness of pain. I feel because of the pain. You masked a weapon you created as a salve. The door would not open. I knocked and knocked wondering how to get inside to the one I love. The one whose voice beckoned to me from the small, dark, love deprived room locked inside of you. The one I fight for holding the key the whole time. Deceived by the snare of self righteousness I am left to fight my better judgement. Fight my limitations. Fight my gut feelings. Fight my consistent bad experiences. Keep your raincheck for a twenty four hour appointment. No one puts me in timeou

     Have you ever had a splinter? Have you ever felt the small sliver of wood under your skin? This mild irritation burrows through flesh while one digs to pull it out. The idea of something ideally small has such a large impact. “Because of the extraordinary greatness of the revelations, for this reason, to keep me from exalting myself, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me- to keep me from exalting myself! Concerning this I am pleased with the Lord three times that it might leave me. And He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.” Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.        Therefore I delight in weaknesses, insults, in distresses, in persecutions, in difficulties, in behalf of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong. Recently I heard a message emphasizing how being a part of  Body of Christ requires one to ide

     I am the villain in someone’s story. Whether or not I earned the title they have assigned my role is irrelevant. I have been categorized according to their experience. I have been having a hard time coming to grips with this truth. Yet, I have arrived at this location. There were several events and circumstances that forced me to do the reflection needed to come to this conclusion. The primary catalyst was my trying to find a rationalization for someone who hurt me.        Maturing past the point of needing to have closure, but not evolved enough to not need to make sense of it all. In Spite of the fresh scars on my soul I have been challenging myself to figure out the hows and the whys. I dared look at the us objectively. I saw me on the table laid bare with my insides exposed. This type of self surgery is a different type of pain. I have shared with confidantes that power dynamics have little to do with bullying. I know this experientially.        For example, t

     When I am going to provide an introspective story with the hope of providing an intimate connection to someone with whom I am conversing; I will preface my statement with, “moment of transparency.” The purpose is to create a safe space for that individual to feel comfortable reciprocating my vulnerability. It also forces me to confront the truth that I am sharing sensitive information that may not be handled correctly once I release it. Only with that space of vulnerability will we both grow from the exchange. I recently heard someone say that we critique people by their actions and critique ourselves by our intentions.        Reflections of both my actions and intentions helped me to narrow the ambiguity between the wounds and kisses of our current year. What if wounds from a friend are filled with the venom of an enemy? Where wounds from a friend may be a blessing according to Proverbs; lips are a faucet from the heart which can pour venom from a third party enemy. These

     All these films depict the legacy of kings that can be found in the iris of young men. These moments of celebration inspire me to reflect on my greatest heroine. My Mother was the Queen of every room she entered. Captivating with her wit, beauty, and charm. Days away from openly appreciating the grace bestowed me second by second; my heart tugged at the love she continues to give. Each memory of her intentional training reveals a deeper level of wisdom as I mature, expanding my capacity to understand.        Seeing what she already saw; walking where she already tread. “Gratitude is a posture.” Echoes on various platforms. Gratefully, I sit in my state of reflection holding on to promises of better days ahead. Remember in all your thanks to thank yourself. Give yourself permission to relax and, keep putting one foot in front of the other. In all the lessons my Mother provided me these reminders were caught not taught. Catch! You are worthy of all the appreciation you re

     Looking at the various forms of life lost celebrated on display around town, shivering from the brisk air drop; I am reminded of the time of year. However, the aisles and aisles of candy remind me of children. Children who are tiny humans; not incomplete people. A conversation with a couple of parents about children having the liberty to express themselves emotionally forced me to analyze my thoughts on the emotional freedom we allow children to exert. This conversation lingered with me after I walked away because as an adult; majority of the emotional healing that has taken place in my life was delayed because of my emotional blockage from childhood. Being human enough to have the full brunt of painful situations knock you down, but not having a healthy space to process those experiences is a serious disservice to children. Our children go through the ups and downs that we go through on our roads across triumph, distress, failure, or sudden surprise.        One step f