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He opened my door like any gentleman does, he held my hand and told me how much he loved me. We walked hand in hand towards an unfamiliar building off of a beaten path; I remember my heels sinking into the dirt as we approached what seemed to be an underground club. This was no ordinary club after all, this was one I never imagined myself being in. I knew what I was getting myself into, but I had no clue of how the darkness and excitement of this world would soon consume me. We walked in and suddenly the rundown building became an exciting, loud, adventurous playground full of gorgeous chandeliers, greeters (men and women) and lustful behavior everywhere I turned.

I remember walking across the dance floor as my then-fiancé went to grab us a drink. I looked up at all the canopy beds on the second floor, the beautiful modern lounge furniture everywhere filled with couples talking and getting to know each other. This was my first time in a club like this and although I was afraid and unfamiliar, my flesh was totally intrigued. This club was amazing, full of high-class people with very expensive taste. I was very impressed and quickly found a table upstairs where we could look down and see the dance floor.

We sat there and observed for a while before talking to anyone. A couple approached us and we quickly became talkative with everyone in the club after that. Everyone was so friendly, buying us drinks and complimenting me on how sexy I looked. I felt so desired and wanted. We met some who had been in the lifestyle for years and others who had just started. I couldn’t help but wonder how they did it – how they shared partners. You see, this was my first time at a swinger club and the scariest part of it all is that the thought of “sharing” my fiancé with someone else began to seem “doable” after my experience that night. I suddenly found myself sucked into a swinger lifestyle and attended many underground parties, even hosted a few at our home. We also began planning our honeymoon at a swinger resort! The man I was going to marry introduced me to this; he wanted this and I wanted to be married so badly to him that I agreed and soon became more willing to live that life than he was. It was a dangerous game, a downward spiral of jealousy, worldly pleasures, arguments and sinful lust that never seemed to end.

We lived this way for months before deciding it wasn’t good and it was time to stop, but once we did there was no repairing the damage we had caused in our relationship. The exciting, lustful adventure was over and we were left with broken, dirty rags that we didn’t know how to get clean. Needless to say, our engagement soon ended — and not in a good way, either. How could it? After what we had allowed into our relationship, there was nothing left but lies, deceit, pornography and destruction. The most demented thing in all of this, is that it wasn’t even me who ended it, it was him. I still wanted that life, I was the one who still wanted to make things work and had he not left me, I would’ve married him.

I look back at the devastation we put each other through and realize how incredibly wrong we were for each other, not because we were bad people, but because God was totally absent from our relationship. We lived in darkness and enjoyed it. I think about how God literally saved us BOTH from a life of sin and destruction. How he forcefully separated me from the darkness and pushed me into the light because I wasn’t giving it up on my own. WOW. Talk about GRACE, talk about MERCY, talk about his plans being better than mine! I no longer live in the dark, the dirty, the destruction. I am clean.

I thought on this for months before making the decision to share this with you because, well — truth be told — I was embarrassed. I have known that I am supposed to share this and I do realize I’m not the first one to willingly live in sin. I realize there is nothing too dirty for God to make clean. In fact, a song I heard recently sung by Natalie Grant called “Clean” truly grabbed a hold of my heart! The lyrics of this song remind me of God’s love for me regardless of what I’ve done, how I once lived, or who I used to be. I feel absolutely no shame or condemnation for the choices I once made. God washed me and restored me. I was searching for something the world could not satisfy, but once I gave my life to Jesus, he filled that emptiness with joy, love and purified my dirty rags. I’m washed clean!!! There is no better feeling than to know I’m free from that old life, and now blessed with a husband who loves God too. I understand what it means to be married and to have a covenant with my husband. I’m so incredibly thankful for being left by my ex-fiancé all those years ago because in the midst of my devastation and confusion, God was fighting for me.

There is so much more I can share, but you will soon read that in my book. God bless you and I pray that this testimony of redemption speaks to you!

“Washed in the blood of your sacrifice, your blood flowed red- it made me white. My dirty rags are purified, I am clean.”

Before I try to explain the audacity of the title today, I’d like you to know every word typed out is a reflection of what I have experienced myself. It wasn’t until I realized that I was the problem that I began to heal and discover newness of life through Jesus. It’s a hard pill to swallow, I know. But admitting you are the one hindering “change” is a great first step to take when wanting “change.” I write this with the best of intentions so that you can possibly relate and discover for yourself that transformation, peace, healing and hope do exist in JESUS!

As I sat on the floor of my doorway with my sleek black dress torn, legs scraped and mascara smeared down to my chin, trying to comprehend what could’ve happened to me had I not forced my dizzy body out of his apartment, I began to sob with deep-rooted weakness and hurt. I was tired. I had three children who needed me and I had spent the last few years drowning in partying, alcohol and sex. That night, I had put myself in a situation that could’ve ended in rape or death, or both. The question I found myself asking was …did I secretly want to die? I had become everything I said I would never be. How did I let it get this bad? Why would I continuously make choices that put my life in danger out of pure carelessness — all while sitting in church every Sunday at a that!

I was a regular church attender but nothing was changing, and I wasn’t seeing or feeling God anywhere close. I couldn’t figure out why God had abandoned me and allowed my life to become such a mess. I blamed him for the abuse I endured in previous years, the loneliness I now felt, and the poor choices I made after I became single again. It was easier for me to blame him than to evaluate myself and my lifestyle. I had good reason to be acting this way after all. My behavior was justified. But in reality, God had given me the tools to find freedom from all of it — The Bible. In fact, he had even placed people in my path and I turned them away. I never opened up my Bible, it sat on my end table collecting dust. I never prayed for anything other than my selfish wants, like material things and finances. I also prayed for my children, but I truly believed I was doing right by just going to church. Yet, NOTHING was changing.

Does any of this resonate with you? Are you desperately seeking relief? Relief from what, though? The party scene? Deep wounds? Bitterness? Life’s unfairness? I wanted to feel relieved, I just wasn’t willing to work for it. I wanted everything to just “work out” in my favor without understanding how God works. I suffered for years this way out of anger, hurt and vexation knowing all I had to do was get into God’s word. It sounds so simple, doesn’t it? The truth is, I was not willing to let go of the entertainment I was having. I wanted the attention from men, the wildness, the thrill of all worldly pleasures … but why? How was it possible to want the comfort of believing in God and also the world’s way?

It’s possible. We do it every day. We post our favorite worship song and then two seconds later turn around and post something that is murdering others with our tongue. We live with one foot in and one foot out. When it comforts us, we need Jesus, but when everything is tip-top, we forget about him. I lived this way for YEARS, trust me! I know!

I’m not saying that I never struggle now or that I am totally surrendered to God, but I unquestionably respond differently now and I undoubtedly see God in my life. I feel relieved, healed, restored and redeemed! You cannot possibly understand what that feels like without relinquishing your life to God. You see, I knew in my heart that I WAS THE PROBLEM, but I didn’t want to change MY behavior or routine. I kept a tight hold on my life, my anger, my problems, my hurts, my justification.

We must get to a place where we are just undone, raw, open and willing. We have to make the choice to seek God and find hope and healing through his word, prayer and encouragement. We can’t allow life’s unfairness (whatever our situation may be) to keep us in a black hole of darkness forever. We have to find a foothold (God’s word), reach (read and absorb), climb (pray) and pull ourselves up and out of that hole because no one is going to do it for us.

“Come to me all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Mathew 11:28-29

I sat there in my car with the smell of rubber tires, gasoline, grease, coffee, and the taste of salty tears as I wept like a hurt child who didn’t have her mom nearby to hold her. Who knew something as simple as a blown out brake light would cause a total meltdown? The guy from the shop came out to assist me and asked a simple question, a question I have heard a million times — except this time, his question pulled a heart string that somehow came completely unraveled. “How can I help you”? Before I could even answer, he noticed my vast tears and red face and quickly said, “Oh honey, it’s OK, we will take care of whatever happened” (referring of course to the car).

As I gained slight composure, I went on to explain that something was making a horrible noise in my car after hitting the bottom on my driveway and the other car (also there) needed a new brake light. A BRAKE LIGHT. That’s when I began to weep again, why was this stupid simple fix bothering me so much?? After all, it will take him minutes to replace and cost hardly nothing. Then the real reason for my tears made itself known: I was missing my husband. If he was here, he could just FIX IT! I was frustrated and felt witless for taking it in for something he could easily do at home in the convenience of our driveway.

I began to miss him terribly at that very moment. Not that I haven’t been missing him — of course I have. We have made a life of living apart and visiting each other for over six months now, but it’s getting closer and closer for him to leave for a LOOOOOONG period of time and I’m so dreading the day. This is something I deal with daily, constantly having to fill myself with God;s encouraging word, constantly having to pray and find joy and purpose in situations out of our control. It’s freaking hard!

This morning was ROUGH to say the least. Most days are really good and then something as simple as a brake light goes out and the world comes crashing down. Although my meltdown only lasted a few minutes, it was real and raw. I felt so alone in that moment and of course it was a perfect moment for the devil to attack my thoughts. What if something happened to him? If I can’t handle a few weeks, how am I supposed to handle MONTHS and MONTHS? “Your own friends would tell you to shut up and think you were being a baby because they’ve done it many times and expect you to suck it up and handle it!” And of course there’s always the ole’ “this isn’t how a marriage should be … separate” thoughts. Thankfully, the minute those thoughts showed up to my pity party, I began to pray them out!

I admit, I had hesitations about sharing this because of what many of my strong, beautiful, military wife friends and family might say. It didn’t take long to register that the very thought of that was totally absurd. They’ve all had that “First Deployment,” the first realization that the brake light was out and had their husband been home, he would’ve fixed it. They have all woken up in the night and wept for their husband; they have all shared aching hearts and gut-wrenching laughter through tears and crippling frustration. This is just my first time and it’s OK to feel the way I do. Sure, I may have my moments of crying it all out, but the one thing I’m sure of is that I am NOT alone. I’m surrounded by many who understand my tears, questions and frustrations, and of course, God always understands our brokenness. He holds us, provides for us, gives us peace and rest and he uses our bad brokenness and replaces it with good brokenness. A brokenness that brings us closer to him. A brokenness that builds our faith, strengthens our relationship, and gives us hope. I wish I could say “bring it on” like I sometimes do when facing hard things, but I’m not going to pretend like I’m looking forward to this at all. However, I will confidently say, “we can do this.”

MAKE US HUMBLE PEOPLE, NEVER AFRAID OF BROKEN THINGS, BECAUSE CHRIST IS ALWAYS DOING A NEW THING.

There comes a day where you make a choice. You choose your outfit, you choose to bathe, you choose to breathe. Every thought is your thought. It becomes your responsibility to choose to do what is right. The option of what to eat, and which way to drive all become unconscious choices that you see yourself making almost as blocked out as taking steps. You have the ability to choose how your day goes. Coffee spilled? It’s OK! Saves me some calories for a little jelly with my bagel. Got pulled over? It’s OK, it’s just someone doing their job.

You have bigger fish to fry than the small speed bumps of your day. Victim of a crime? Speak out! Help those around you who have been through the same situation or are related to someone who is. I am not saying be optimistic about the situations you go through, but I do encourage you to find a purpose behind it all. I’m using mine as a platform within my testimony to reach out to others who have been in the same situation. I do have my weak days, but through journaling and blogging, I can look back on my strong days and find encouraging words that I have written.

Looking through some boxes that are still unpacked in my house, I came across a binder of paperwork. This paperwork did not have any happy memories, nor did it make me smile. It brought tightness across my chest, and made my lungs feel like they were being squeezed shut. I took that moment to force myself to shut that binder and box it away. After a few (hundred) deep breaths I pushed that box to the back of the closet. I have not been able to bring myself to destroy the binder yet, but God is encouraging me to.

I was at an event last year supporting sexual assault victims and I had the honor of speaking in front of the crowd. Standing before the crowd of unfamiliar faces, I was able to offer words of encouragement and hope. To encourage the victims and families that God is here for each of them, that there is light where it once seemed dark.

My encouragement for you today is to look around you in the dark times. You are not alone, nor are you the only one in this situation. I encourage each of you to take a breath and go through a sensory release. Find three things that you can see, two things that you can hear, and one smell that you can smell. Start quoting, “No weapon formed against me shall prosper,” and “Greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world.” Declare this through your struggles. Positivity brings forth positivity, where negativity brings forth miserable days. So, once again, I encourage you to make the choice.

There are three little words I prayed and hoped I would never have to say. It’s not the cliche phrases like, “I love you” or “I hate you.” It is the gut-wrenching, heart shattering phrase: “it happened again.”

The moment where you thought you could prevent something from happening, and then it happens again. For me it was a situation I have continually promised myself over and over again that it would never happen. That my life would never be able to be shredded and defined by this moment.

Yet again, moments after it occurred and the dust settled, I fell to my knees. My world felt as though it had been re-shattered. The room spins, voices echo, but yet it doesn’t take away the pain that was to follow. It barely has been two years and four months and it has managed to happen again. That’s it. I became a statistic, yet again.

But yet, there is one thing that is slightly different this time. It’s my perspective. I did not allow myself to feel helpless. I knew the size of the giant I was up against. It’s not just the situation that occurred, but the mental and emotional block that follows shortly behind.

You know the scenes in the movies where someone is spending their life longing for something and they spend a whole scene surrounded by it? Mothers pushing laughing children on swings, marriage proposals by the lake, best friends getting their nails done. It’s like all these scenarios run through your head. All the laughter around you echoes as if it’s now a nightmare.

My heart does ache because in my life, one of the main things I want is true love. Yet in this moment, I am realizing that each attempt for me ends in disaster. I literally have given up. I remember the battle that I faced the last time that left me dark and hopeless. I was hurt and in a very lonely place.

How can one person bulldoze through another person’s happiness? Their joy, their life? The best way that I could even begin to describe to you how I felt is to have you imagine standing in front of the mall with all your treasured possessions. Then, you hold up a free sign, and watch the greed that unfolds. When you look into the basket and see it now empty and a little shredded, that feeling of hopelessness is the way it felt.

This second time was like laying down in the middle of the interstate. With every moment that passes, it’s like you keep getting the wind knocked out of you. Nobody looks in the rearview mirror feeling concerned. When the deed’s done, they just keep going 70 miles an hour.

Even though the pain is real and constantly racking my brain with the “what ifs,” I know I’m now a stronger person. I’m learning to be content with it just being me and God.

Two years ago, God gave me a dream. Not just any dream – but a profound unforgettable dream that shook me to the core in such a way that I had no other choice but to pay attention to it. I won’t go into all of the details, because those are found in my book. And, it is far too much to tell here, but I do want to share a smidge of my experience in Africa with you — if that is OK. It is absolutely crazy amazing what God will show you when your heart is surrendered and open to his will. The things he allows you to see and do just blow your mind!
Most of you here in the States know that I have a very special place in my heart for women, women who have struggled through and survived violence in their marriage or relationship, women who feel helpless and don’t have the courage to leave, women who are broken with no hope, women who have maybe moved on from those old hurtful places and people, but still harbor deep-seeded bitterness and unforgiveness.
It is no secret that I have a personal story much like these women and totally relate to them in ways you do not want to imagine. This trip for me was so much more related to me than I expected. I didn’t know the emotional imprint it would leave on my heart. If had I known … I might not have gone. That is the honest truth. I have been an emotional mess and I know many of you are surprised to hear me say that because this trip, after all, was not about me, but about serving others. And we did do just that, so don’t get me wrong, and the trip was completely amazing! But what God did in me while I was there in Uganda was so much more than I could’ve dreamed of. I thought I was going there to help, and I did — but OHHHHHH MY GOSH — I was not near ready for what God was about to do. What he showed me took me by surprise and totally broke me in ways I never knew I could break. How does this all relate? My past, my dream two years ago, the book, the women, my writings in the magazine, my blog, etc.? I will do my best to give you a glimpse …
I have been home from Africa for 15 days and it has taken me this long to be able to even write about my experience there. People have asked, wondered and anticipated my return waiting to hear about how wonderful it was, but all I could do is not talk about it. Not that it was horrible, but it is just so difficult to discuss without tears falling, and I don’t mean pretty cute tears … I’m talking about a heartfelt emotional mess of tears! All I have done every night since I have returned is wondered and researched how I can get back there and when. Yes, I missed my family, but I just didn’t want to leave. When I say I left a piece of my heart in Uganda, I truly mean just that! You see, the compound where we stayed just so happened to be The James Place. This is where Heal Ministries (one of the organizations we partner with) is. This ministry focuses on vulnerable abandoned women and children.

They empower them through Christ-centered programs, teach sustainable trades and help with family preservation. Most of these women have faced shame, abuse, abandonment, fear and disappointment like you have never heard of. You may now sit and think “well, so do a lot of women here in the States.” And you would be correct. The difference in what these women in Uganda face and what women here face is that here in the United States is that we have resources, we have help and hope in God, we have laws that are made to protect us (in general). In Uganda, many of these women do not have a voice. They run to police for help, but are taken right back to their abusive husbands. I have never in my life FELT such a heaviness of hopelessness. Even in times of need, extreme loneliness and fear, I have always had God. I have always known God would help us, provide for us and love us. Can you imagine a world where there is no hope?
Many of us have a good understanding of no hope, but the kind of hopelessness I am talking about is unimaginable. God is HOPE, but what if you don’t know God AND no one else to fight for you? This really hit me hard. At Heal, the women are taken care of, they are learning about God and many of them praise Jesus and give him all the glory and experience true freedom in him. It’s beautiful to see! But my heart aches for all the other women who are still out there. It makes me want to sweep across and just grab ahold of all of them and never let go. How can I? I am NOT GOD. How do you change a culture? How do you change laws? It just seems so incredibly unfair. As I write this with tear-filled eyes, I know in my heart the answer is with God. You see, we talk about our omnipotent God and how he is everywhere. But while in Africa, I TRULY GRASPED the meaning of GOD having NO boundaries!
How he loves and created EVERY PEOPLE, EVERY TONGUE, EVERY TRIBE, EVERY NATION and how EVERY SINGLE ONE MATTERS TO HIM and WILL BOW! This is the very definition of the impossible, BUT WITH GOD ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE! HE CAN CHANGE A CULTURE, HE CAN INVADE THE HEARTS OF MAN AND TRANSFORM THOUGHTS, DESIRES AND LAWS. Do you get that? Do you really get that? We sing about it, but do we believe it? I DO! God makes ALL the difference, knowing him and having hope makes ALL the difference. My life was forever changed in Africa, and the women I met are full of such joy and peace because of God, because someone stood up and said, “I am going to help and teach the word of God to them.”
These precious women needed saving! They needed someone to say “You matter,” “You can live a peaceful life away from this and keep your children too!” My heart just aches for those who don’t know what freedom feels like. Freedom from abuse, from bitterness, from terror and unforgivness.
Please be in agreement with me for heart change, not only for Africa, but for all of MANKIND. We need hearts to change, not just a temporary fix. If you have an opportunity to check out Heal Ministries, they can be found through Facebook. Everything bought through their website helps these precious women who have all handmade pottery, necklaces (some of which I sold), etc. Support long-term missionaries, because what they go do all around our world makes a difference and in many cases (such as this) it’s the ONLY way people come to know Jesus and find hope and freedom.
There is so much more that has happened over the course of the last few weeks and I had the opportunity to witness tremendous things all for the Glory of God during our trip, but this right here is what spoke to me the loudest. What God has me doing here in the United States is exactly what he put me right in front of in Africa. That’s crazy! He took me all the way over there to confirm what I am doing here and I have no doubt my work in Uganda has just begun! I could write for days about all that has happened there, but for the sake of time (and me not seeing through my puffy, red eyes to type) I will leave you with this taste of what occurred while there. Trust me, in the next several weeks you will know much more!
I have some very exciting news, but it I will have to wait to share that piece, just know that God has opened up more doors than my little feet can sprint through and it is all centered around a dream he gave me two years ago — my book, this mission trip and 2017!!
Hope is found in Jesus. Hope is FOUND in JESUS!
HOPE. IS. FOUND.
“I AM THE LORD, THE GOD OF ALL MANKIND. IS ANYTHING TOO HARD FOR ME?” JEREMIAH 32:27

Going from sharing a house with family to my own three-bedroom place, I’ve noticed one thing: I have way too much stuff! A part of me wants to open the door and fling it all out into the yard, but the realist side of me realizes now’s a great time to purge my items.
As I pack and unpack each box, there are almost 27-years worth of memories. There are a lot of great memories — some sad, or even forgotten things. Years of yearbooks and photos that I pause to look back on. Horrible hairstyles that I chuckle at, braces photos, photos with an ex … the memories are in an overload of boxes.

God has definitely blessed me over the years and I’ve neglected to notice that often. But, with this move, I see an abundance of God’s promises that have come to pass and the things that He has shielded me through. It is quite amazing to see how far you’ve come when you sit and reflect.
Looking at my middle school yearbook, I’m reminded of years of braces, pimples and glasses all simultaneously occurring. We tried endless number of acne products, but it never seemed to help. Glasses weren’t a permanent thing at that moment, but I certainly felt judged when having to wear them to see the board. Braces, four grueling years of braces. Never was teased about braces, but who enjoyed scraping their dinner off wire that’s wrapped around their teeth? Not this gal!
High school was probably halfway decent for me. I grew out of the socially awkward phase. Braces came off sophomore year, and my skin began clearing up on its own. Yet it also began the long era of bad choices. I didn’t really date anyone until my senior year, but I would have to say that was the dullest experience!

I found a photo strip from a date to the movies. That was definitely a night to remember! His baby mama kept calling during the movie, he spilled the popcorn everywhere, and it was the worst movie choice ever! Magic Mike … oh my word! I have never felt so embarrassed in my life! I love dance movies (and Channing Tatum) but certainly was oblivious in the previews that it was a movie about strippers!
My first night in my own place was bittersweet. I enjoyed the silence and hated it at the same time. I wasn’t afraid, but I just wasn’t used to having the place to myself. Whether the phone is ringing, grandma’s grunting going up the hallway, parents are in and out … I didn’t realize how much this was normal life.

Life is a blessing, and I’m turning the page to a new chapter in my life. 2016 has been a bittersweet year. Rocky start, but I am totally anticipating a great ending.

Gene (n): a part of a cell that controls or influences the appearance, growth, etc., of a living thing

“You must have some good genes.”

“If you look at the mother, you’ll see how the daughter is going to look in 20 years.”

“I hope my kids don’t turn out too dark.”

“You got that good hair.”

“I hope aging well is in my genes.”

“It’s in my genes … that’s why I’ve got these big hips and thin hair.”

“I already know I’m going to be bald by 30, it’s in my genes.”

“I pray that my kids get good genes.”

All of us have heard at least someone say one of these things to us, about us, around us or about someone else. The amount of focus and energy on appearance is well-documented and by the number of anti-aging creams available at Wal-Mart, people are thinking about the way they look all. the. time. And guess what one of those treatments are called? Yep, “Good Genes,” which promises to be “The closest thing to an elixir of youth outside of a fairytale!”

Our genes have come to define us.

I’ve even said some of these things to other people, obviously not thinking about the deeper inclinations of what this all means.

“I’m so glad I got hazel eyes in my DNA.”

“Thank goodness I don’t have ears like hers.”

“I wish that curly hair was in my genes.”

“My mom looks good, so I should look good when I’m older, too.”

In the end, genes are just the vehicles that help determine what our outward appearance looks like. Although we may have brown eyes, the genes for blue eyes may be inside of us, waiting to come out. When you really think about that, it’s a very eye-opening thing (no pun intended). What else do we have — outside of the physical traits — laying dormant inside of us? Is it a business idea? Or a creative way to end poverty? Yeah, those aren’t physical traits, but when you think about how genes actually work, applying that principle to what really matters in life — like how you treat people or contribute to your community — this concept takes on a whole different meaning.

When I think about my own kids, I know that many of my physical traits may not show through in the physical sense. I am a white woman married to a black man. I have thought about how beautiful they will be and how I’m going to have to learn to do their hair. I’ve thought about more than that, though. I’ve thought about how people will look at me, look at them, and make either statements or judgements about how we don’t look anything alike.

There is a definite component of “race” in the talk about “good genes.” I remember a class I took in college, where a whole section of the course talked about how our looks communicate something to the world. In one particular class session — I remember it so clearly — we spend the entire time looking through pictures of people. Just regular people. We studied their faces, their traits, and tried to guess which gene pool they came from. Read: we tried to guess what race they were. Now, I consider myself to be a pretty open-minded person, but I could not guess one person’s genetic background. NOT ONE. And, I went into the exercise KNOWING that this was some kind of “trick.” I went in thinking, “If a person looks Asian, they must be African-American.” And, I still got every. single. one. wrong.

If nothing else demonstrates this concept, the above scenario does: Our genes have come to define us.

Just because we can, let’s take a look at some quotes that some more well-known people have said about their own gene pool.

“My parents couldn’t give me a whole lot of financial support, but they gave me good genes. My dad is a handsome son-of-a-gun, and my mom is beautiful. And I’ve definitely been the lucky recipient. So, thank you, Mom and Dad.” – Ashton Kutcher

“Somehow I have managed to delay looking old. In reality I have good genes.” – Michael Schumacher

“I look better with a tan, but I’ve never gone the fake route. I don’t need to – I have good foreign genes: half Spanish, half Hungarian.” – Anton du Beke

We’ve all thought about it, but what exactly are “good genes”?

Well, good genes are different to different groups of people. Go figure. For the culture I grew up in, a small butt, thin thighs and a very (unattainable) slim figure is a sign of “good genes.” For other cultures, it’s the exact opposite. A larger behind, thicker thighs and a little bit of “fluff” signals the inheritance of good genes.

The other day I was out picking up a few things at the store, when I heard one of the store employees say — rather loudly — to another employee: “My name is not red hair. Don’t call me that.” This guy was brown-skinned, short, with reddish-hair and a contagious smile. His genes dictated his outward appearance, but he didn’t want to be labeled by them. He didn’t want to be defined by his genetic makeup.

Likewise, many of you may have seen this show on A&E called “Born This Way.” It follows the lives of young adults with Down Syndrome, which is basically a condition that occurs when an individual has an extra chromosome in their DNA (or genes). These young people have been labeled by their appearance, and Down Syndrome has become their identity. Their genes have defined them, but they don’t want them to. These individuals are caring, strong, and have dreams beyond many of the rest of us within a “good gene” pool.

Let’s go back to the definition of what a gene is: “a part of a cell that controls or influences the appearance, growth, etc., of a living thing.”

It’s amazing to see how simple people view their gene pool, when we carry the genes of our ancestors — who overcame tragedies and natural disasters and poverty and disease — and we have reduced these genes to how well we’ll age or if our skin tans a certain way during the summer. Our genes determine our appearance, but those same genes have allowed us to stand the test of time from the beginning until now. How many generations are you carrying inside of you? Whether they had red hair or green eyes or black skin or big feet?

Let’s let our strength, our individuality, our uniqueness, our creativity, our passion, our motivation and ambition, our hopes and dreams, our hope, and the ability to bring innovation and peace to our world. Let’s think about our personality and character instead of how “good” our genes are, in relation to how we look.

There is an undeniable truth that our looks mean a lot in today’s society. I’m not saying we shouldn’t take care of ourselves, but ALL. OF. OUR. GENES. ARE. GOOD. GENES.

There isn’t a magical cream to being a good person, willing to help others. There isn’t an elixir that will give you strength to face unthinkable odds. There isn’t a magic potion to make you motivated to pursue your dreams.

We all have to dig into something deeper, something beyond looks that allowed our ancestors to survive. Something that stood the test of time, and it’s more than just a look. Those genes are the ones that we should consider, when we think about the term “good.” … I know what you’re thinking … those aren’t even genes at all.

You’re right. They’re more. They’re the unique traits that make up the whole of a person and not just how they look.

Everybody is talking about genes, but I dare to make a bold statement: When it comes to your genes — there is much more to them that what meets the eye and it’s up to you to prove it!

Something I saw on social media at the beginning of October really upset me (Then again, most of what I see right now on social media is upsetting). But, this specific video I saw helped me to realize just how much people need God. I’m not here to speak negatively about this organization so I will carefully choose my words, but I do want to point out the difference between teaching people to cope versus teaching about what God can do to help.

This video was created to send a message speaking out against domestic violence, but the message clearly displayed anger and frustration demanding to be heard. In return, this “message” against domestic violence (DV) was not favored. How shocking! After further research about this organization, I did see all the good they have done to help women and men who were victims of DV, but what I experienced in watching this controversial video was extreme sadness. A feeling of their desperation to make themselves heard and known came over me.

I can relate to that desperate, urgent feeling because it is much like how I feel now – wanting to be a voice for those who struggle with DV or have fallen victim to their deep-seeded wounds. Wanting to shout from the rooftops how they can be free of PTSD, anxiety, depression, fear and whatever else has them in bondage. Could it be that perhaps their approach was just all wrong and they have good intentions? Absolutely! As frustrated as this video made me feel, it also helped me to see that it’s time for me to do what others are afraid to do. After all, someone has to!

These women have been taught to cope (manage, survive, carry on, get by, subsist). They feel like they are healed and have moved passed their wounds because everyone gathered around a campfire one night, sang kumbaya and burned a letter directed at the ones who hurt them. I’m sorry, but that’s a load of crap. I get the meaning behind the symbolization, but what happens when they wake up the next day, go back home from the wonderful weekend they had together to their everyday lives and still feel defeated, broken, and hopeless months later after the “wonderful feeling” is gone? There was no healing, no heart transformation, nothing had changed except maybe they are a little more encouraged than they used to be. These women have been given a voice and a platform, but chose to display anger. They have no idea what freedom feels like! They are missing the most important piece of the process! GOD.

I tried to find organizations, resources, and programs out there that teach about God and help these women find rest, joy and restoration through him, but they are far and few between. Why do you think that is? To be honest, I think it’s because people live in fear. They want to talk about God, but they don’t speak up because of the challenges and backlash they might face in doing so. They need funding, but certain types of funding come with limitations. They care too much about their image — you know, [the] “Let’s not make these people mad” type mentalities. They need sponsorship and certain businesses don’t want to be associated with them because they talk about God and it might “offend” someone. The list goes on and on. Meanwhile, we have thousands of women and men bound up with no inkling of what God can do when we have the answers to all their issues at our fingertips! This fires me up!

How dare us stay quiet. How dare us be silent when they can experience the same power of God we have. We know what God can do, but they don’t. Who’s going to tell them? How will they ever find freedom? They don’t need a temporary fix; they need Jesus!

Videos like the one that caught my attention at the beginning of this month is the very reason I will be launching a faith-based organization in January called “Hope Found.” God has placed it in my heart to do more, to be a voice and to use my personal encounter with God to reach others who so desperately need him. I am beyond excited about all that God is already doing on my behalf to make this happen.

In January, we will also be announcing the dates and open registration to our Women’s Thrive Retreat happening in 2017! If you or someone you know is a survivor of DV or violence of any kind and need deliverance from deep-seeded wounds, you DO NOT want to miss this! I want you to know that you were created to thrive, not just survive!

Be blessed!

SO MUCH HAPPENING, SO STAYED TUNED!

-Patsy Freitag

I regard parenting as the single most rewarding, complicated, heart-pounding, selfless, loving, blood-boiling, amazing, confusing, wonderful thing I have ever done.

Whether you are a single parent or married (I’ve been both), parenting is a challenge! Now throw in a blended family with step parents, biological parents, ex-wives, ex-husbands and all the families involved all the way around and you have what seems like one big circus! It can certainly become one. I’m here to share my experience so far and although Chris and I have been married three years this October, in just the short amount of time we have been married, I have learned (the hard way) that co-parenting is, well, to put it plainly … HARD WORK.

Feelings. Why oh why are we so dramatic, jealous, fearful, doubtful, hateful and bitter? So many feelings are involved when you blend a family. Old ones, new ones, good ones, bad ones … all kinds of emotions are flowing, and I don’t mean small creeks, I’m talking about rivers of feelings. I have read some great articles regarding co-parenting; however, many I have read to be forthright, are simply ridiculous articles which are seriously unfeasible. I agree that parents should work together and all that jazz, but what about the complicated stuff? Where is the manual that explains how to apologize, or take the higher road when you disagree? How about the one that explains how to deal with boundaries and respect? Or where does it tell me how to handle children who constantly compare me to their mom?

Where is the article that helps a mother understand the role of the stepmother? How does a stepmother understand the feelings of the mother without taking on offense? These are some very real questions that go through minds of people who have recently become “co-parents.” What does it even mean to co-parent? Well, I can tell you it’s certainly much more than sharing duties of raising kids. Maybe with our experience you can find some answers to questions of your own, or at least know that you are not alone.

I became a stepparent to two beautiful, bright-eyed children on October 12, 2013. Those who know me, know that I’d much rather be called a “bonus mom.” I don’t care for the term “step” mom for the same reasons a mom doesn’t like being called the “biological mom.” These terms just seem so impersonal, so technical, although there is nothing wrong with them and this is my own personal opinion. When Chris and I married, the kids’ mom was deployed for several months; this actually gave me some time to get to know the kids and spend extra time with them, which was wonderful.

What I was not prepared for was the “adjustment phase.” Oh, I knew there would be one, but because I have never been a bonus mom before, I was clueless as to what to expect. Every family has a different dynamic, but for us the transition was very challenging. Not necessarily in ways where the kids were hard to handle, but more on an emotional level. There were many nights I cried in frustration over something that was said or done. It’s important to remember that they are children, they don’t process things the same as we adults do and they don’t mean to be hurtful. Our main issue was constant comparison. (I know I’m not alone in this area).

I didn’t cut the sandwich bread the right way.
I didn’t cook the chicken the right way.
I didn’t comb hair the right way.
I didn’t say things in the same manner as their mother did.
I was mean for enforcing rules and I wasn’t funny or fun … the list goes on and on!

The kids were always complaining and comparing everything I did to their mother. This time period was the hardest! Loving them and understanding their feelings as well as managing my own? UGH. Difficult and extremely emotional times.

I had to sit down and explain how their mother and I are two different people who do different things. We use different approaches to situations, we each are unique and individual with our own ways of parenting. At first, it was a hard conversation to have, but after a few months, the children began to adjust really well. I will say that the entire time she was gone and we worked through this, their mother was helpful by speaking to them about the challenges we faced here at home. She encouraged them to accept me and be mindful of what I said. This helped tremendously — sometimes the children just need to know you (the mother) are OK with the new bonus mom too. TRY IT!

On the other side of the coin, you have the mother who struggles herself with wondering if her kids are taken care of. Are they loved and nurtured? Will they like the bonus mother more, or is she more fun or more of whatever!? Insecurities you didn’t know existed immediately start floating one-by-one to the surface, rearing their ugly heads … both ways. The bonus mother wants to be accepted and loved and the mother is afraid she will be too accepted and loved.

Ever see the movie, “Step Mom?” There is a scene in that movie that describes this perfectly! The stepmother says to the mother: “You know every story, every memory, every wound, their whole life’s happiness is wrapped up in you. Look down the road to her wedding, I’m (step mom) in a room with her fitting her veil, fluffing her dress, telling her no woman has ever looked that beautiful, and my fear is that all she will be thinking is that, ‘I wish my mom was here.’” Then the mother responds to her with, “And my fear is that she won’t.” That is so sad!

Can you imagine your daughter not asking for you or mentioning you at her wedding? This was her mother’s fear! Now in the movie, the mother was dying, but it doesn’t change those feelings of comparison, doubt or fear that sometimes enter in. So many questions float around, so many negative thoughts can develop. Although these feelings or thoughts may or may not cause issues depending on the relationship, they are very real. I’m happy to say that any doubts or insecurities we experienced were short-lived, but if you say you have never felt or thought of any of these things you are straight lying! Haha! It’s perfectly normal to have those thoughts. How you choose to react to those thoughts is what matters!

One of the things I have learned is that children are extremely sensitive to their surroundings. If tension is in the air, they know. The worst thing you can do as a parent is talk negatively in front of them about the other parent! That is something I think happens all too often in moments of anger or frustration. I have had PLENTY of negative things to say about the girls’ dad; however, in all the years of being a single mom before Chris came around, I never spoke ugly about him in front of them … I didn’t have to.

As they grew older, they developed their own opinion of him based on their own experiences. In our marriage, this is something we have really tried to avoid. If you have to discuss “adult” things, do it after they are in bed behind closed doors. Children have no business feeling the burden and pressure of your opinions and struggles! Whatever problems you had with their parent is YOUR problem, not theirs. With that said, we have overcome several obstacles and I have come to realize that being a co-parent is a lot like a marriage. Funny, huh? You share responsibilities of raising children, you have to find forgiveness, admit faults, be considerate, respectful and have great communication.

Janelle and I have learned firsthand that communication is EVERYTHING. The worst thing you can do is get caught up in telling others all your problems when you should be talking directly to the person you have problems with! This goes for anything, not just co-parenting. It is so easy to get caught in a web of gossip and misunderstandings when we choose to voice our thoughts to the wrong people. Not everyone listening is for you! Or for your relationship. The best place to vent and get advice is on your knees, seeking God. I’m convinced that without God our relationship wouldn’t be what it is today. Our relationship was pretty rocky in 2015; we didn’t see eye to eye on things, we opened the door to negative thoughts, gossip and other things. We allowed our minds to go off the deep end and began to make mountains out of mole hills. There were feelings of jealousy, confusion and questionable behavior. When it all came to a head a few months ago, I realized how foolish I had been, how I had contributed to all of those issues in my own way. I think it’s safe to say we both reacted in ways that were not the best, but through the storm of it all, God was with us. He never left us even when we forgot to go to him first.

We have grown so much in the last two and a half years as co-parents. The children’s needs come first before our personal feelings. I love our relationship now and what God has done in our lives. She is not at all threatened by all I bring to the children’s lives as their bonus mother, and I am not threatened by her as their mom. She may have the memories of birth, first words, first steps, etc., but I also have first memories in many different ways. There is plenty of room for both of us, plenty of love to go around. The kids love me, we have an unbreakable bond now that is our own; we share moments that belong to only us just like moments they have with their mother belong to them. They feel loved and are safe to hug and show love towards me around their mom and vice versa. It wasn’t always this way, but we had to be open with them and show them it was OK. I tell the kids all the time how blessed they are to have so many people who love and care for them!

Remember I said earlier that children are very sensitive to their surroundings and can sense the tension? Let me share something I observed in our daughter after Janelle and I became closer through adversity. Naomi has never included the both of us (Janelle and I) in a sentence that involved “together.” One day while standing outside discussing her birthday party, Naomi put her arm around me and the other around Janelle and said, “Yaaaay! We get to celebrate it all together!” I’m not sure if Janelle remembers that simple comment, but it really opened my eyes to how the atmosphere had shifted. Even Naomi felt the tension had lifted.

How sad that she felt it in the first place, even without knowing much about anything, she knew something was wrong. But in that moment, she felt free from it. She knew we (Janelle and I) were in a better place than before. Don’t think kids don’t know, they are smart little cookies! I’m so grateful for what I have learned and I know we still have the rest of our lives to parent, but I’m so glad I get to share it with Janelle. From a bonus mother to a mother, we are all mothering, loving, protecting, and caring for our children.

So, is more really merrier? Heck yeah it is … if you are doing it right!

Boundaries and respect: It’s OK to set some boundaries with each other. Be mindful and considerate of the time each of you has with the kids, especially on holidays, etc. When you disagree, talk about it without kids present. Try to listen and understand each others’ point of view. Talk without raising your voice or demeaning the other person. Realize it is OK to disagree.
Don’t try to be like the other parent: Be yourself and understand that the mother YOU are is enough. Back each other up concerning rules and expectations for children; while you do have separate households, still be respectful of each others’ morals and values.
Keep important conversations you have between yourselves: Any decisions you make together concerning the kids should be discussed and made between all parents involved.
Last but not least — put God at the center of it all! You can’t go wrong with him on your side.

Take a deep breath. You won’t always agree, you won’t always feel like working together, you may not even like each other, but you put your big girl panties on and deal with it! Grow up for the sake of your kids. Do the right thing every time, and after that, do the next right thing.

Encourage each other, get to know one another — when someone starts talking to you about the other parent, shut your ears to them and stand up for them, pray for each other, and most of all, get off all of those “stepmother”/real mother” nonsense pages you follow that post nothing but negative garbage about the other parents! Stop reading that junk. Don’t compare yourself to other parents, but instead fill your mind with great articles about faith, find other families that co-parent together with great relationships and seek God’s Word and help during tough times. There are qualities in both of you the children need, and together you can be the moms God designed you to be for them.

Being a co-parent is hard work, but nothing worth having comes easily, and with God the burden of making things work is removed from us. With him … it just flows. This segment does not even scratch the surface of co-parenting or blended families, but remember, every family dynamic is different. I hope you were able to take away a few nuggets for yourself.

Happy co-parenting!

I know what you’re thinking, that mom that you saw this morning when you dropped the kids off at school is ALWAYS looking like she walked straight out of a salon. Her makeup is flawless, her shoes are super cute and she walks confidently knowing every other mom envies her choice of style and fashion. She’s glowing with pride because her life is perfect and it honestly makes you sick! You probably saw her the other day at the grocery store wearing her velour jumpsuit, tennis shoes and hair in a pony tail looking just as fabulous. And of course, her very handsome husband who we like to call Mr. McDreamy is walking right beside her while waving to everyone he knows, because his personality is equally contagious. You even wonder if she seriously wakes up that way every morning and may even start to feed into your own insecurities wishing you were her, wishing you had her life.

What you don’t know about this beautiful, confident woman is that everyday she wakes up, looks in the mirror and wants to die. She wants to escape the world she lives in but can’t seem to find her way out. She’s not confident at all, she doesn’t feel beautiful at all; in fact, she views herself as a coward and has no idea of the purpose in which she was created for.

She questions God, she doubts He even exists. She’s extremely lonely and the only source of a social life she has is through her work. Her children see her pain, but do not know why she cries all the time. They come to her room to console her, but it only intensifies their confusion.

She is tired of keeping a horrible secret, but is too scared to ask for help. She puts on her makeup, dresses in her nicest clothes, fixes herself up to look like she’s beaming with joy so she can walk out the door and get through her day — but inside, she’s dying. She wears that contagious smile that people envy, but inside, she’s crying. She attends events by his side and pretends like everything is fine. She hides it well, not even her closest friend has a hint of a clue of the secrets she keeps tightly locked away.

She has lived this way for seven long years and refuses to tell someone because no one would believe her. She thinks of the friends she will lose, people she loves dearly and how they would all turn against her. She even considers the fact that he would be looked upon badly. She cares about his image more than her own. You see, the secret is so bad, her husband could go to jail. He could easily lose his children in the process and everyone would blame her for exposing his terrible secret. She lives in fear — not only of him — but of those whom he now associates himself with. She is constantly watching over her shoulder in fear and doesn’t sleep at night wrestling with her heart and mind on what to do.

He … Mr. Wonderful … is in fact a terrible husband, he abuses her and abuses drugs, he is involved with people who frighten her, he steals, lies, cheats and doesn’t see the error in his ways. He uses their children as a reason she can never leave, he threatens her life frequently and she knows he means it.

What you don’t know, is that this morning when you saw her in the school parking lot, she was getting ready to start a new life. She was dressed her very best for a job interview in which she wanted to make a great impression, she was determined. Her confident walk was not about you at all, it wasn’t about how beautiful she thought she was, or how much she wanted others to envy her. But rather about her and her children at the beginning of a new journey.

That contagious smile you saw this morning was the taste of freedom on her lips and that glow was light breaking through the darkness of her heart. She made the choice to follow Jesus, to live out her purpose. She made a choice to trust and believe that He would HELP her get passed this. And what you don’t know is that today, she made the choice to live and not die.

There is hope for the weary. “He gives strength to the weary, and increases power of the weak.” Isaiah 40:29

AHAAH moment!!

I read something the other day during my quiet time on my patio that REALLY got me thinking. This particular read was about “grace growers,” you know … the people who were put in our lives to make us completely miserable, challenge us, talk about us, harm us, make known their dislike for our faith, try to knock us off our path with God, tempt us …the list goes on and on.

I was instantly intrigued because it went on to tell a story of a man who was called by God to go out and speak his word in schools. This man became so well-known and prospered because of his obedience to God — however, not without tremendous backlash and struggle at first. There were three men who followed him, not because they enjoyed his teachings, but because they hated him and wanted to make him so fatigued that he would give up and stop. They protested against him, told everyone he was demonic, they rallied against him and purposely haunted his every move.

They did this for two years before he finally reached a breaking point and cried out to God to remove them from his life, but God didn’t budge. He began to feel weary in his well-doing and questioned what seemed to be God’s absence from the situation. This man often had visions and dreams and one night God gave him a dream where he was sitting beside God. In his dream, a huge, beautiful piece of marble was brought in. God then asked him if he would like to see a sculpture of himself made out of that beautiful marble. In awe of the beauty of it, this man yelled out, YES! God brought in three artists who worked tirelessly sculpting this man, making it into a beautiful image of him. God then told this man to encourage the men as they worked, cheering them on. The man began cheering at the top of his lungs with such excitement! He yelled out encouragement until he himself was tired and could hardly stand anymore. The three men finished the sculpture and as it was superb! God was pleased and so was the man.

God then revealed the face of the three men who had made this beautiful image and to the man’s surprise … it was the same three men that had tormented him for two long years. He awoke from his dream and wept. He realized that in the two years those men were against him, doing all they could to harm his reputation and teachings, he had in fact prospered and grown. He had become a well-known speaker, he had pushed forward and enhanced his studies, he had worked harder and he was now in a place where everything they did to harm him was turned around for his good. All that time the men were being used to sculpt him into the man God wanted him to be. Without the struggle, he wouldn’t have needed faith, he wouldn’t have grown dependent on God’s word, and he wouldn’t have succeeded. This is the short version of the story, but I wanted you to get the point.

Oftentimes we feel like God is absent in moments that we are most desperate for his help. We become weary, wondering if he will ever come to our rescue, even if he has come countless times before. As I began to evaluate the people in my life, I realized that I am surrounded by grace growers. People who act like they are for me, but talk badly behind my back, people who rarely speak to me regardless of my efforts to relate to them, people who challenge my faith and beliefs, people who justifiably do not deserve my time or friendship, people who are manipulators, people who would love to see me fail, people who want to keep me quiet. I’m thankful for all of them! Without their opposition, I wouldn’t grow, I wouldn’t know what it feels like to overcome, I wouldn’t feel victorious or know I made a difference.

Would I choose to relive the struggles? Heck no! But I’m glad I lived through them. God was always there, reaching for me, grasping my hand. So until my sculpture is complete, I will look to him, trust him and cheer on my sculptors by praying for them, encouraging them, lifting them up and loving them regardless of how they chisel away at me, and I will do it wholeheartedly until I can’t stand anymore because that is what Jesus expects me to do!

Jeremiah 29:11

September 11, 2001 changed my life.

Everyone knows what September 11th is about. One of the largest terrorist attacks on the United States of America, multiple planes hijacked and thousands of lives lost almost instantly. On that day, all across America, everybody’s eyes were glued to the TV or intently listening to the radio as the towers fell, the plane hit the Pentagon, and where the plane went down in Pennsylvania.

I was a sixth grader and rode to school with my mom and brother. We had a routine on our car ride where we did a morning devotion and then prayed together on the way to school. That morning — in my Mom’s Chevy Monte Carlo — we were doing our prayer and devotion focused around the Prayer of Jabez.

Here’s a scripture summarizing Jabez:

1 Chronicles 4:9-10 (NKJV)

“Now Jabez was more honorable than his brothers, and his mother called his name Jabez, saying, ‘Because I bore him in pain.’ And Jabez called on the God of Israel saying, ‘Oh, that You would bless me indeed, and enlarge my territory, that Your hand would be with me, and that You would keep me from evil, that I may not cause pain!’ So God granted him what he requested.”

There is a busy intersection in Richlands, North Carolina called Jarman’s Fork, where Highway 258 and Highway 24 meet. Well, we were sitting at the light when our red light turned green. Mom proceeded into the intersection and began to scream. There was an 18-wheeler coming full force at us. Horns blaring, we were screaming and praying. What happened next is amazing.

When my Mother’s Monte Carlo was made, it was made to prevent sliding or hydroplaning. At the moment, the 18-wheeler crossed the line, Mom felt pressure on her right knee and the car slid sideways … just missing the big truck.

There is no doubt who saved our life — ironically on a day where thousands of others lost theirs. I would love to say that our joy lasted, but once we got to school, the news began flooding in. We quickly began to mourn as all of America did.

There was once someone who said where lives are lost, another one is gained. I can tell you, the almost-disaster that my family endured seemed like nothing when compared to what New York City, Washington, D.C. and Shanksville, Pennsylvania were facing.

That morning, we had prayed for an increase. The need for Christians multiplied that same morning and the devil tried to take us out. I do believe the biggest mission field was revealed to us that day: it is the land we live on.

I desire to be a Jabez in this land.

Imagine your walk with God for a moment. Include all aspects of your walk with Him. Your strengths, weaknesses, best times, and hard times. What did you do to get into God’s presence? Did you focus in on praise and worship or did you pour your time into the Bible?

Now, imagine yourself at the base of your mountain: no matter if it’s a financial mountain, emotional, relational, or even a spiritual mountain. Can you just walk through a physical mountain? No, you have to endure the long way up and over.

At the base of the mountain, you are led to equip for the climb. You pick your shoes, climbing tools, and probably some weatherproof gear. What could all this mean when relating it to a spiritual walk?

Let’s start with your shoes. Typically with mountain climbing, it is safer to wear firm hiking boots. Hiking boots are made to survive all weather and protect your feet from the stumbling blocks put in your path. Think of God as your pair of hiking boots. He is there to protect us, and most of all, He provides us with an ability to endure the rough terrain.

Climbing tools could be anything from rope to a First Aid kit. What is rope used for? It is like a lifeline for climbers. In our Christian walk, what do we use as a lifeline? We use our prayer. Imagine the hardest day of your life, how did you manage to get through that day? Prayer! So each moment of prayer is another foot on the rope that is aiding you up this mountain. First Aid kits are used after a slip and fall or contact with a deadly force. First aid application is reassertion with the Bible. Road rage? Pray and apply first aid by getting into the word.

Your all-weather gear can help you in hail, sleet, snow, heat, cold, etc. This is God’s word. God’s word is here to encourage us, described as a double edged sword, and will protect us against the elements.

Climbing a mountain is a metaphor for a daunting task that requires a lot of strength and faith. Battling cancer requires a monumental amount of faith and courage … so does running a church, and tithing. The list could go on for days.

Oh, how the path to the top is exhausting, but each step you take is rewarding. There are moments where you can look back and see how far God has brought you. Just imagine the moment you reach the top! Sure, you will need to adjust to the change in atmosphere, but oh how you can feel and notice the presence of God!

There was one time I heard a woman at a doctor’s office speaking to another lady, and she said, “Don’t tell God how big your mountain is … tell your mountain how big GOD is!” I truly did not understand at that time what they meant by mountains until I began facing mountains of my own!

There is a tremendous comfort knowing that God knows our every need even before we do! That precious time that is dedicated doing Bible readings, praise and worship, or prayers, are equipping us for the treacherous heights we must climb to seek the Lord.

Pastor Chris of River of Life church once said that the first step is the hardest. To see results, we need to provide effort. Lost loved ones? Are we planting seeds or waiting for a miracle? Health is bad due to weight-related issues? Are we sitting on the couch praying against insulin shots or are we walking to lose weight?

Psalm 121: 1-2 says, “I will lift up my eyes to the mountains; From where shall my help come? My help comes from the LORD, Who made heaven and earth …”

I am mad.

This isn’t fair.

I am scared.

I don’t know enough about the military life.

This sucks.

This will be so challenging.

I’m already tired just thinking about it.

Will he be in danger?

My mind has been flooded with these thoughts and more ever since we got our new orders, except — they aren’t really “ours,” — they are his. One week from tomorrow, Chris is moving to Virginia to live on a ship for the next TWO YEARS. We made the choice to stay behind and remain in our home in North Carolina because he will also be deploying in February of 2017. It makes no sense for us to sell our house, move kids around, find new schools etc. if we will be alone up there anyway. Staying here is clearly the BEST choice for our family, but how do I explain that to my heart?

Not only will this be my first deployment experience, but to also live apart for two years HOPING to see him on weekends? UGHHH!!! This first go’round SUCKS! I’m really trying to put my big girl panties on, but right now I can’t seem get them over my knees. How do I find peace and hope in a situation I can’t control? Someone (who didn’t know better) referred to me as being a “single” parent through this separation phase. I have to say … I DO NOT like that term used so loosely! This term has made me feel all the yucky stuff I got rid of just three years ago from being a truly single mom! Suddenly, a heaviness of pressure to be superwoman came over me — the worry, the need to persevere … the fear all came flooding back. I have seriously not wanted to hear about this move or deployment anymore after that!

While throwing myself the biggest pity party that ever to existed, I realized how quickly I had allowed myself to spiral into a clutter of doubt, fear and old junk. But isn’t it just like God to show up at the very moment you need him? He was prompt to remind me of a song I love to sing that says “I’m no longer a slave to fear, I am a child of God.” I have sang this song a million times, yet it has never spoken to me so profoundly! I began singing it quietly under my breath and over and over in my head until I finally had to play it loudly. When I got to the bridge is when I felt God’s presence fall heavily on me like a warm fleece blanket. I played it over and over just allowing it to sink deep. The bridge says, “You split the sea so I could walk right through it, my fears were drowned in perfect love.”

You see, what this song is telling me is that God will make a way for me! He will move mountains for me, split seas, remove my fears, bring comfort to my heartache, ease my mind, and pour out unwavering love. I don’t have to be superwoman because HE will be my SUPER GOD! He will carry the weight for me! I am NOT a single mother! I am surrounded by the arms of the Father! He will carry us through this season with tenderness, he will place people around us to encourage us when we get weary, he will fill the lonely nights with gladness, and he will speak to me through dreams.

I can’t help but weep thinking about how He takes care of us. What a wonderful God we serve. There is no way to explain what He can do, you just have to experience it for yourself. I’m not saying I won’t struggle with this anymore, I’m simply saying when the struggles come (and they will) … He will be waiting for me to say, “Help!” And even when I can’t mumble the word through my tears, He will read the pain on my heart.

Praying for all you military wives who are holding down the fort until your helpmate returns!

If I were to be totally forthright about my personal feelings toward healthy foods, I’d say most of what I have experienced is …well… GROSS. I am that person who wants to be healthier, make better lifestyle choices, etc… But doesn’t exactly want to stop eating what I love. Now, I know that there are a bajillion of healthy recipes I’ve pinned and for the most part somehow have lived out my healthy eating strategies only through pinning and NOT consumption, but I don’t think I’m alone in this! I can already hear you. “Well, I actually make eat, wear, go and do what I pin!”

Ummmm… If you are anything like me, you probably DO make SOME of what you pin, you will probably NEVER order that bikini, pair of shoes, jewelry, or outfit you so badly want to wear, and you can only dream of some of the places you have made a specific special board for. So why am I all of a sudden so disturbed by my pinterest page??

First off, I’m fourty-one. I have wasted so many years pleasing others that I have completely ignored my need to do for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking about “doing for others” like serving & helping. I’m talking about PLEASING others & caring too much about others opinions. Stay with me….I will entually make my point.

I have pondered over & over why I go back and forth between my longing to look awesome and be healthier and not caring what my stomach looks like or how white it is! I start a workout I am enthusiastic about, but within two weeks I’ve lost interest. I have ordered programs, ordered meal plans, been with a personal trainer, watched videos, gone to the gym, been a Zumba instructor and for the life of me could not figure out WHY I never stuck with any of it! This is something that has bothered me for some time now. Could it be that I am a person who will do for everyone but when it comes to do for myself….I don’t follow through? When I think about all the times I have started to eat better and work out and stopped once I was satisfied it’s ridiculous. So why have I suddenly found a new way of thinking? Why is THIS TIME different? What has stirred up within me to make me feel more determined than ever to be healthier?

I wore a bikini for the first time in ages, not because I looked fantastic in it but because I love myself and realized that NO ONE CARES if my white flabby stomach is showing because everyone is busy having fun with their kids not caring about theirs either!
I found a “trainer” who is waaaaay energetic with excersises that challenge me but are totally my speed. And also allows me to have the freedom of having my own schedule because I do it from home! (HUGE BONUS)
I actually started making some of my pinterest HEALTHY meals & bwalla!!! They actually taste AMAZING!! Full of flavor and fun to cook.
This is THE MOST IMPORTANT!!!! I started viewing the way I eat physically and how I treat my body the same as how I feed myself & treat myself spiritually!!!

God is absolutely in everything! This morning I woke up and had a great time in the presence of God, after that I noticed how much energy I have this morning. As I made my delicious breakfast while thinking about his goodness I came to a new level of understanding of how I’m supposed to be treating my body. The ONLY body I have, the one that has to last me long enough to see my Great grandchildren get married! I need to be investing in myself as much as I invest in feeding myself spiritually. I can not afford to be lazy with my body, just like I can not afford to be lazy in my walk with God!

I know most of this is directed towards eating better, being healthier etc….but I don’t want to just stop there! There are so many things I have pinned that could easily become reality instead of just a social media fantasy. There are places I’d love to expirience with my husband, things I want to do for our children, places where God wants us to go and share his love…let’s not waste anymore time!! Let’s grasp a tight hold of all the God has out there for us starting by building our relationships with him! He wants us to live life abundantly and have the desires of our hearts as long as they are in his will. For me, realizing how important it is to be healthier & WHY is just the start!!

EXASPERATED. There is no other word that comes to mind when thinking about how my month went. So much has happened in the last thirty days, I’m so glad it’s over! There are so many stressors in our lives when we are just functioning at normal levels (whatever your normal may be) but when you throw in your husband moving four hours away, a daughter trying to start college, sharing one vehicle with her work schedule, your mind racing to figure out how you are going to manage four kids going different directions almost daily, your own schedule and commitments, raising funds for a mission trip, planning the remainder of your year out before your husband deploys, School starting and all the financial pressures that come with that, along with so much more keeping you awake at night, it can most certainly become overwhelming! I feel like I took a deep breath at the beginning of July and just now have finally exhaled! A time that was I was supposed to rest turned into the busiest and most challenging month I’ve had this year!

I know that I’m not alone in what seems to be a never-ending cycle of pure madness. There have been moments where I question my sanity and forget to inhale and exhale within the same minute because of how busy I get. Okay, so I am exaggerating….but not by much! ha! But in all seriousness, I cried out to God this morning at my wits end because I was seriously DONE.

During my ugly cry and expressions of frustration while talking to Jesus, he was so kind to show me all that he has done for me within the last thirty days of “hardship” (It’s nearly impossible to finish this without tear-filled eyes) but this is what he said:

You have spent more time in your War Room with me than you have in the last several months.

You have tirelessly prayed for your husband.

You have opened your heart to me like never before.

You have leaned into me with your heavy burdens and I have held you tightly.

You have been an encourager, supporter and friend to many in their moments of need when you – yourself were in need.

Your faith in me has reached a new level

Your relationship with your husband has expanded.

You have learned to view people differently.

You have been provided every need.

You have made memories with your children they will never forget.

When Satan attempted to steal your sleep, I gave you rest.

When depression moved around your home trying to find a way in, I stopped it from entering.

When your daughter drove to work, I protected her.

I fought for you, I still do.

Surely you see all that you have gained in the last thirty days.

As you can imagine, I was overtaken by thankful emotion. God never ceases to amaze me! I have learned that planting my trust in God where solutions seem few and far between is the very soil where faith grows and he is faithful. I am thankful for a gentle God who doesn’t mind my ugly cry, never turns me away and always hears my heart. We may feel like we are constantly jumping hurdles but THANK GOD we don’t have to jump when we get weary and somehow still always manage to reach the finish line! I hope you find as much encouragement in this as I did!!

God is our very present help in times of need.

Insecurity: could it be a stumbling block?

Growing up, there was one word that you could use to describe me. INSECURE! My teeth were too large, my skin too rough, pimples on my face, glasses on my face. When people would compliment me, I would shrug it off. They were simply being too nice. All through school, all the way up to my senior year in high school… I didn’t date.

Walking into crowded rooms, especially parties or other social events would get my insecurities flaring and my anxiety would be sky high. It wasn’t based off what I was wearing but more about how my self-image had given me social anxieties.

“Are those women whispering about me?”

“Did they compliment me as a way of making fun of me?”

“They complimented my skirt because they have nothing else nice to say.”

Not only did the insecurity ruin my chances at making friends, but it also was becoming a stumbling block when it came to serving God. Being insecure as a Christian meant I would put limitations on what I would do for God.

I was the front-row Christian while growing up; I wouldn’t raise my hand nor would I be willing to speak in front of a crowd. Personally, that was ok with me. At the time, I didn’t understand how severely I was limiting God and what He has planned for my life.

Philippians 4:6 NIV says:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

So at that time, I was being disobedient with my insecurities. I was allowing anxieties to overrule God’s authority. I was not letting him use me, nor was I being the testimony he has called me to be.

All this is a hard pill to swallow. Do you remember a time where you were asked to lead prayer and declined because you don’t like to pray out loud? Or maybe refused to sit up front because you don’t want a whole room to your back? It’s possible that you are facing the same stumbling block I had to overcome.

Just under two years ago, I felt empty. I did not know why my relationship with God seemed to have reached its maximum capacity but not achieved its full potential. I began to pray, “God, you have promised so much to me, yet you don’t use me for anything … what have I done?” I thought, to be sure, I haven’t upset God.

My answer did not come in a booming voice, unless you count Pastor Chris’ voice as booming. There was one day he was preaching from the pulpit and came down to the front row … almost shoe to shoe with me and addressed the crowd. I will never forget what he said. “Not only in the Bible does it say faith without works is dead, but it also says we are called to be servants. Not bench warmers, or a number for a church headcount [but] servants.”

I was stunned and sickened. I knew my sins were forgiven, but if I wasn’t working for God, I might as well be considered a pew warmer. I began to pray that day for ways to step out of my comfort zone and to serve God as he has called us.

I joined the Usher team at River of Life church. Not only did I have to suddenly embrace large crowds, I had to face my fears and anxieties head on. I was constantly reaching out to people, standing in front of the church, and interacting with powerful and influential guests.

After a few months, it became a breeze. I was comfortable moving amongst strangers and speaking to them. Began praying with people, and openly addressing the crowds. I even started speaking at my parent’s church on some Sunday nights.

Don’t get me wrong, I still fight my insecurities at times … but because I know where my strength comes from, I find the strength to stand.

Romans 8 ESV says:

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit …”

Hesitant.

That is the best word to describe how I felt this morning when thinking about what I wanted to share, that is until I spent some time with God. I will admit that for years I have dealt with being a people-pleaser. Not so much in wanting people to like me, but more in the way of wanting to make people proud of me in my job setting, amongst peers, community, family, etc.

Before I knew it, I was weighed down by others’ opinions of me.

I then wondered, “how much time do we spend thinking about others’ opinions or thoughts of us instead of focusing on what God says about us?” I’m so guilty of allowing this to consume my mind, even causing me to drift so far out into the sea of worry that I lose all sight of land! I have struggled with this in times when my character has been questioned or my beliefs have been challenged. I have pretty thick skin, but there have been words that have affected me in ways that drove me to pure fury! As my husband so graciously and lovingly reminds me, “no weapon formed against me shall prosper,” I seem to finally get a glimpse of land again. YES! Thank God! But then as I begin to swim back towards it, another wave of attack comes through, pushing me further out [and] losing the sight I had gained. This is extremely frustrating! Should we be in constant worry of what others say? Should we allow their perception of us to steal our peace? How does God feel about worry?

Philippians 4: 6-9 MSG says: “Don’t fret or worry, Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.”

So at this point, I have two choices: conform to the world and it’s beliefs or stand firm in God’s word. This is a thought I completely refuse to entertain! In my life, there is not a choice. God always prevails no matter how terrible a situation may seem. I refuse to grab ahold of the lifeline the devil has thrown out to me making things appear “safe” in deep waters. If I budge on my values and beliefs — even just a little — to make others comfortable, I drown. Keep in mind this is a battle, not a tangible one — although some would verbally and publicly attack — but more of a spiritual one!

This is what makes it easier for to me find land again, after the initial shock and spur of anger, after taking a moment to pray and seek God’s word, I am reminded that this is not about me at all and it’s not my battle to fight. I face all kinds of opposition from people and I finally understand that opinions of me, or misunderstandings of my character or belief [are] not my problem to resolve. The issue they have is not with me, but with God. I am a great target for practice; however, because I choose God and the devil hates what I do, he hates that I share my testimony, he hates that people read what I write and seeds are planted, he hates that I sleep peacefully even after a dreadful day, he hates the light in me, he hates the passion I carry and he hates that I make it safely unharmed back to land every single time. I’m confident in where God has me, in my walk and he will never leave my side.

Sink or swim? I swim … gracefully.

Freshly returning from my first trip New York City, it was easy to see that there was a lot of culture combined into the streets that hosted millions each day. I quickly noticed all the different races and gender-specific areas in the city, and also could overhear the languages that flowed naturally to all these people. Yet, in each aspect of my trip, I noticed God.

One thing that I noticed, being raised in a small town, is how HUGE these buildings were! I was pretty amazed that as high as I could look, that there were skyscrapers going past that. As a child, I used to tell my grandmother that I loved her all the way up to God. Well, in that moment, I noticed how huge of a declaration this was!

Starting out on my nine-hour guided tour, we had to meet on Broadway Street. Like usual, we were early. It’s a good thing, because we probably would have missed out on two blessings. First, we encountered an older woman passing out handmade crosses. Two simple pieces of cardboard, and I was utterly blessed! After walking a little ways, we came up on a church setting up for their service … ON the corner of the street! What an amazing outreach!

One of the stops that we were supposed to make was St Patrick’s Cathedral. Keep in mind this tour was on Sunday during Mass hours for Catholics. I prayed, that if we would be interrupting prayer, that our way there would be hindered. Well, a block away we noticed that there was a parade being set up outside the church; there was no way to go there!

The Statue of Liberty was one of my favorite spots we stopped at. I was able to step back and look at the NYC skyline. I was amazed. Not amazed at what I saw, but what I heard. Specifically this: See the city? I don’t see all that, I see each person and what needs they have. All that glitters is not what I’m after. I am like the shepherd who leaves his 99 sheep for the lost lamb.

I was standing outside of the 9/11 Memorial and the One World Observatory and was amazed at all 102 floors of sheer glass that were sparkling in the Sunday sun. It was a chilling experience to stand in the location where two planes crashed into the towers that came down almost 15 years ago. I closed my eyes and allowed my non-visual senses to speak. I was beside the South Tower memorial and was running my hand over the victims names. It was someone’s child, sister, brother, parent, friend. Tears were rolling down my cheeks, and I couldn’t help but to think about Mary at Jesus’ grave. Such a large sacrifice, but meant the world to us.

Lastly, the nightmare of traffic and crowds. It was as though no matter how many cars were shoving around us, they couldn’t touch us or hit us when we were crossing the street. I have never seen such aggression, but thinking back to the woman caught in adultery — Jesus drew that line in the sand and simply said, if you are without sin, you can cast the first stone. Metaphorically speaking, since nobody was throwing rocks, but it was as if God had drawn an invisible line around us protecting us. Nobody robbed us, was inappropriate, nor did they harm us.

Looking back at my NYC trip, it was a blessing. God was there shielding us and showing us all he does. The city needs plenty of prayer, there were a lot of shady things happening, but God was shining even on the darkest corners.

Mid-life crisis … hmm. It is a term that is used to describe the psychological metamorphosis and critical phase experienced by individuals during and between the ages of the forties and sixties. The concept of the mid-life crisiswas introduced in 1965 by a Canadian psychoanalyst named Elliot Jaques as an early contributor to adult development. The term mid-life crisis has usually been ascribed to women due to their menopausal issues. However, it has been proven than men also experience a mid-life crisis which is associated with what is commonly known as but unaccepted by the World Health Organization as andropause or the male equivalent of menopause.

It should, however, be understood that anyone can experience a “life crisis” which is defined as a period characterized by unstable mental and emotional health which alters the course of life of those affected by it, and affects them for a year or longer. These life crisis can include the death of a loved one, extreme financial loss or difficulties, physical health challenges, divorce, or other life events that can overwhelm an individual. These crisis, if untreated, can be and are often stressors than can even lead to PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder).

For the focus of this article, a mid-life crisis is usually viewed as a negative thing, a period where a person is confused or depressed and feels like life is over. However, I beg to differ. What others may consider a mid-life crisis, I consider as a period of much needed and positive change. It is a time in life where individuals begin to reflect on their lives and evaluate where they have been, where they are, and where they need to go in life. For me it was a pivotal moment where, as my marriage was deteriorating, I was all but forced to make such reflection and evaluation. Needless to say that my divorce, at the age of 42 after 21 years of marriage, created an unforgettable and horrendous “crisis” that changed the course of my life forever, but I had begun experiencing personal reflections and evaluations at the age of 39.

I was caught up in wearing several hats that included being a husband, a father of seven children, a pastor of a church my home state of Mississippi, working a full time and two part-time jobs across state lines in Arkansas, and attending school in Memphis, TN. Just having and providing for a family that size was at times stressful. But I did not realize that with everything I was doing in an attempt to gain success as a father, a parent, a spiritual leader and counselor, an employee, and a student, I lost so much of what was most important – myself. I found myself having to ask myself, “What’s in this for you?” Oh yes, the joy of my family made me happy, but there were times when even being surrounded by several people in the house I felt a sense of loneliness even though I wasn’t alone. Yes, it brought joy to see parishioners’ lives changed because of soul-stirring messages I delivered to them during Sunday worship or teachings during Wednesday night Bible class or individual counseling sesions, but I still felt inadequate. Yes, it felt great walking across the stage with my mother and family in audience as I obtained my bachelors, masters, and doctorate degrees, but when I looked at my income and how my education was being utilized, I still felt unachieved.

So what was the missing piece to this puzzle? What was it that created this “crisis” at this point in my life that was affecting my marriage, my self-esteem, my spirituality, my very existence to the extent where I would ask the question, “Why am I even alive?” Well, it took me 42 years to discover that whereas I had been dishing out love, acceptance, assurance, and encouragement to everyone else around me, I had neglected to dish any of it out to the one who mattered the most – me.

Now to some this may seem selfish, but as I have discussed in my soon-to-be released book To Me From Me, With Love…. Always, it is paramount that each of us realize early in life that we have an obligation to, accept, assure, and encourage self. As a Christian, I have always loved Matthew 22:37-40, “³⁷Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ ³⁸This is the first and greatest commandment. ³⁹A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ⁴⁰The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.” But all of my life I had misinterpreted verse number 39, to love your neighbor “as yourself.” It was only one day about three years after my divorce that the true revelation of this verse stood out to me.

You see, I had been taught to believe that the order of love was love God first (and it is), to love your neighbor next, and then to love yourself which allegedly fulfilled the tenant of sacrifice. But that is not a correct interpretation. The phrase “…as yourself” means there is a comparison between what is and what should be. To have a healthy love for yourself is the “what is” and the love you should have for others is to be compared to the love you have for yourself. In simple terms, how can we give something to others we do not have for ourselves? It is like writing a bad check to somebody and expecting it to clear the bank!

To love someone or something literally means to express or show actions of deep concern, compassion, and care for that person or thing. For me, I had spent my entire life seeking the happiness of other people, even trying to gain acceptance from other people and allowing my life to be governed by the opinion of other people such that I had lost or never obtained a sense of self-worth or self-love. As I look back on my life, I did not have to wait until I was 42 to find this place in my life. However, I was conditioned to think that way by society, well-intended religious teachings, and my willingness to accept what I was taught.

Hence is the reason that I share with you today that even though we all experience various crisis in our lives, we all must take time daily to reflect, re-evaluate, and reset our thinking so that we can move forward and not remain stagnant. What you may call a mid-life crisis can be a mid-life “blessing” if you will take the time to recognize what changes need to be made, to make them, and to move forward. At the tender age of 53, I am living my best life, and I know that greater is still coming my way. Guess what? If you will accept it, greater is coming your way, too. Do the work and it will work for you!

Blackface (n): makeup applied to a performer playing a black person, especially in a minstrel show.

The term “blackface” was first used in 1869 when whites played blacks on stage during plays and shows in the United States; this was during a time when African-American roles in Hollywood were scarce — or, worse — when whites were perpetuating stereotypes and making fun of blacks as a whole.

According to The Huffington Post’s Julia Craven, “The history of blackface is complex, but it’s inescapably rooted in the notion that black folks are inherently less than white people, and that they shouldn’t be allowed to portray themselves onstage.”

These were the uphill battles that well-known legends in the fight for Civil Rights — like Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, the Reverend Jesse Jackson and Rosa Parks — had to endure, just for the right to be themselves. For black children in the 1950s like Emmett Till who were brutally murdered for even the whisper of flirting with a white woman. Those black faces reverberate through history as game changers. But, is the game really changed?

Now, these are the names we hear and the faces we see: Tamir Rice. Trayvon Martin. Michael Brown. Eric Harris. Most of us have heard their names — seen their black faces on TV — and winced. Young men and women cut down in the prime of their lives mired in controversy surrounding law enforcement, who acted — let’s say, at the very least — with neglect.

Outrage on both sides of these deaths ensued, creating what many have called the second Civil Rights Movement. #BlackLivesMatter began to become a movement, causing controversy for both blacks and whites. The familiarity of these scenes echo from the Jim Crow era to the 1960s and 1970s in the United States, inevitably bringing about reminiscences of the “bygones” of slavery. We are living in a time where people are divided more than ever across racial lines. The black face of old has been replaced with hundreds of black faces fighting for a chance for the basic right of any human being — to live.

Whites are outraged, because #AllLivesMatter. To make a statement like that is to misunderstand how this all started. How the old blackface, the new blackface and black faces around this country tie in together.

Remember how blackface all began? In the mid-19th century as a way to discredit blacks and keep them out of the spotlight in any positive way? Yesterday, the 88th annual Academy Awards aired … and not one African-American actor or actress won in the top categories. What has changed? People may not be dressing up with paint on their faces and mocking blacks … or are they? According to a 2015 HuffPost/YouGov poll, “Americans generally think it’s fine for people to wear potentially offensive Halloween costumes, including blackface.” People may not be painting their faces black in Hollywood anymore, but if things had really changed, Chris Rock wouldn’t of had to make comments like #OscarsSoWhite became another culturally phenomenon that — accurately — describes how blacks are treated in the entertainment industry. Do your best work? Go ahead. You probably won’t win an award. Isn’t it funny how the term blackface originated with the entertainment industry, and we are still seeing the effects of culture that surrounds this term?

Let’s take it a step further. How many whites have represented people of color in popular American movies? This is part of the new blackface, where whites represent blacks in a underlying, subterfugal way. And yet, there are black faces with the talent and drive to represent this country well. These new black faces are tired of the new blackface culture. And so am I.

Now, raise your hand if you remember that episode of Keeping Up With the Kardashians where Kim and Kris went to Europe for an appearance and someone showed up in blackface, spouting racial epithets while the journalists interview the two laughed. That was this decade.

It was only a generation ago where children went to separate schools. My own in-laws didn’t go to a school with white kids until high school. The other day, we had a conversation about color and how we are going to explain our children’s biracial qualities and how to ask children of two races and/or nationalities how they see themselves and how they describe others. We asked my seven year old niece (who is biracial), what color she thought she was. “I’m brown,” she says. “But I have a friend at school who looks like me and is from Germany.” “What color is he?” I asked. “He’s white.”

The prospect of explaining this to children is a tough one, but has been perpetuated by the history of bigotry and hatred in this country that blackface is a part of.

These are the black faces we see. The faces of my future children, who I will have to explain color, ethnicity, race, racism, and prejudice. The faces of every African-American who have to work twice as hard at the same job and are persecuted for things like affirmative action and #BlackLivesMatter.

The attitudes toward blackface show up when Donald Trump is getting closer and closer to receiving the Republican Presidential nomination. His views on people of color are appalling to say the least, and yet he is gaining momentum with the American people. What does that say about the pulse of our nation? These people are wrapped up in the culture and perpetuation of blackface, whether they know it or not.

African-American artist, Mark Greenfield, uses blackface iconography in his work. According to Greenfield, “These images have haunted us for a very very long time — unless we exorcise the demons that these images have conjured up, we’ll never really be free.”

Will we ever be free of the blackface persona? It haunts our dreams and shows up in our nightmares, and become reality. We can all sit at the same lunch counter, but when you look at your black face, or the ones of your friends, family members, co-workers … what do you see?

Author Michelle Alexander, the author of the New Jim Crow, “An extraordinary percentage of black men in the United States are legally barred from voting today, just as they have been throughout most of American history. They are also subject to legalized discrimination in employment, housing, education, public benefits, and jury service, just as their parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents once were.”

Do you see the black faces of men and women through the bars of their cells? The new blackface is anything but entertaining, as its origins denote. Life with a black face in the United States is unpredictable, frustrating, disturbing, and ignored. That’s why #BlackLivesMatter. That’s why #OscarsSoWhite matters. That’s why #AllLivesMatter doesn’t. Don’t you see the disparity?

Look around you — black faces are everywhere, and they sprout from the history of blackface Yet, they are stifled in a country where free speech is legal and being black is not.

When the paint of blackface goes on, the black faces around the country vanish from view and aren’t considered important anymore. When will it change? When will all lives (and faces) really matter?

References:

Merriam-Webster Dictionary

The New Jim Crow, Michelle Alexander. Retrieved from: newjimcrow.com

The Huffington Post. Retrieved from: huffingtonpost.com/entry/halloween-blackface-poll_us_5633c154e4b06317991256b9

NPR. Retreived from: .npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1919122

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