A Daily Dose of Freedom

So one of my sisters is about to give “ spiritual birth ” in the next week and I couldn’t be more excited. With a heart of pure gold evident by her generosity and kindness, I couldn’t think of a more deserving person. As the time draws near,    I began to seek God’s face on what that “ freedom ” looks like. “ Breaking free ” looks like chains falling by the wayside and captives: Loosening cords of strongholds, Breaking old, familiar soul ties, Reversing generational curses, Tearing down barriers of oppression, Severing toxic connections,  Shining light on darkness. And rebuilding temples on God’s foundation of truth. It’s time to “ silence the enemy ” with a sucker punch to the throat and send him packing. It’s time to “ kick down ” the invisible fences that seek to restrain the power within. It’s time to “ cut the cords ” of toxicity. It’s time to “ roll up our sleeves ” and allow FAITH to win. When you attend a recital, ba...

"You don't drown by falling in the water, you drown by staying there." -Robert Jordan As I quietly sat still in an office on yesterday, my mind drifted out the nearby, double-paned window onto the pillow of peaceful clouds. I have always been a " dreamer " like Joseph! You could frequently find me on the side of the road collecting discarded scrapes of wood to build a ship like Noah. However, I wasn't able to convince others that the ship was needed, so my dreams faded into the background of forgetfulness. For the past year and a half, I have been hustlin' like a mad woman to spark a fire to reignite those dreams. But who knew that my immediate family would suffer six deaths in eight months? Somewhere my resiliency plummeted like the overall morale in the surrounding city. I know my response as a " believer " should not resemble the world, but the humanity of my heart was still immersed in complete shock! On this morning, I woke u...

It takes an undeniable amount of courage to be naked and unashamed, while " breastfeeding " your baby, on any public platform.   The "umbrella of shade " can solicit you back to the secluded, retreat of Egypt. The " air pockets of assumptions " can create a shortage of sufficient oxygen supply. The " gas-filled, toxic, chamber of ridicule " can cause an obstructive regurgitation of choked, spoken words. The " crucifixion of judgmen t" can rupture vital organs beyond man's natural repair. D-e-s-p-i-t-e the battered, bloodstained, exposed " flesh wounds ," I choose to " show up " daily from behind the veil. I traded the guilt-ridden, ill-fitting, torn widow's garments for the fine linens of praise. I refused to waste the oil from my alabaster box on the feet of those who intentionally crushed my spirit. I refuted the gut-wrenching, oppression of falsehoods with the light of God's truth. I rel...

“She was a stranger in her own life, a tourist in her own body.” --- Melissa de la Cruz, The Van Alen Legacy   When I opened my eyes this morning, it felt like my body had undergone reconstructive surgery. I placed my hand over my chest and there was no movement. I forced my eyes shut and fell back asleep. I woke up again and still no heartbeat. A cloud of temporary amnesia held the rain of reality back awhile longer. My limbs were barely draped in the torn gown of sadness while self-medication offered a temporary injection of numbness. In seclusion, I wrestled secretly with the overwhelming lingering grief from the residue of losses my family suffered this year. The ongoing trauma kept me in a strained, defeated posture of intimate pain. The unhealed, wounds proved to be a sign of infection that spilled over to arrest my thoughts. The enemy stripped, beat, and placed chains around my mind. He sentenced me to " death row. " It was not the first imprison...

"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." -Psalm 73:26    On today, in the empty spaces of my soul, I chose to color in the "voids" with black crayons. I intentionally decided to pitch a tent in the pit to isolate my vulnerabilities and nurse my grieving heart privately. I consciously abandoned the fences of religious expectations that place limitations on my process and seeks to persecute the validity of my faith. The oversized, sackcloth of sorrow drapes my flesh and replaces the superwoman cape, which attests to my humanity. In the exiled swamp of my tears, I release the anchors of doubt that tries to drown me. As I float on my back and close my eyes to what-if scenarios, I inhale his promises. His peace leads my anxiousness beside the still waters of his calmness. My bones hover over a body of childhood memories. As I drift further, I see familiar hands reaching for me, but I'm out of proximity. ...

"The song is ended, but the melody lingers on." -Irving Berlin The one thing that has remained constant over my tenure here on earth, is my relationship with my grandmother. Seasons change . Climates change . Time changes . BUT our hearts NEVER skipped a beat. We never lost connection. Our records never scratched. Her vocals planted a " lifetime right " of poetic muse in the depths of my soul so strong that I can't help but hear the melody continually play on. As I cling to her bedside watching for any sign of consciousness, her unresponsive eyelids has my spirit a little " unsettled. " Every breath sounds like a struggle. I look for hope for an extended stay, but I see her frail, physical body wrapped in a spiritual cocoon of protection. She's above us now. I know ( without a shadow of doubt ) that she has faithfully served with all she had. I know that she has executed her race wholeheartedly with grace. I know that she is pat...

"those memories you hold onto are poisonous, and until you can learn to let go, you will never fully heal."  Billy Chapata, Sour Honey & Soul Food We never know the depth of a wound until we start undressing the bandages..... I've never been afforded the opportunity to fully wrap my arms around the totality of love. I assumed that my heart's rhythm had been severed by arteries that hemorrhaged during seasons of shock. I remember waking up in ice cold, lifeless rooms full of stainless steel after suffering from cardiac " love " arrest. Defibrillators sent jolts of electrical currents to revive the remains of the deceased. There was no pulse. No sign of radioactivity. My heart never made a full recovery from the sustained trauma. In that vacant spot, weeds grew from the empty cracks. On occasion, the weeds required pruning, but I refused. Pruning meant acknowledging the evidence of buried roots. Instead I opted for the anesthesia of denial and su...

"For to be free is not merely to cast off one's chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others."--Nelson Mandela        Overwhelming gravitational forces chased me down the road of self-care over the weekend. I temporarily suspended all responsibilities to practice the power of the pause . I removed the hats, shed the layers, and let my hair down. Living up to self-imposed, daily expectations can be quite the journey. At times, I " choked " on my own breath by insisting on being my biggest enemy, worst critic and loudest voice to silence. However, this was not the time to summon myself into a boxing match full of self-doubt, insecurity, and indecision. I couldn't afford to lose momentum because time was a " coveted " commodity. Somehow, I managed to grab hold of the keys and unlock the chains.   I set myself free from perfection .     I set myself free from criticism . I set myself free from judgment...

"Women yearn for change and will make great sacrifices for it." -Lydia, A Dream Compels Us: Voices of Salvadoran Women                       On Friday morning, I traded my normally scheduled work day for a mental health day. One of my top priorities (school) had been counterproductive for a few weeks, because my attention span was crumbling under pressure. My sanity drowned in a debt of unresolved, surrounding crisis. My cup overflowed with anxious thoughts and chest pains interrupted my calm. My body went into " fight mode " and my blood pressure spiked.  I was sick and tired of " being sick and tired ". Everything inside of me was screaming on the inside but no one could hear me. People were fighting their own battles. In survival boot camp training, I was instinctively taught not to flinch at the presence of pain but to endure in silence. Because 9 times out of 10, not one was coming to " save you ." I quietl...

"The question which one asks oneself begins, at last, to illuminate the world, and become one's keys to the experience of others. One can only face in others what one can face in oneself. On this confrontation depends the measure of our wisdom and compassion."  James Baldwin, Nobody Knows My Name A lot of people attached to me are struggling with some heavy burdens. Not only does it grieve my spirit; but oftentimes, I feel the weight of their pain resting on my shoulders. Many times, I have walked through the same fog of darkness that holds them captives in the valleys. Naturall y, my flesh desires to " rescue ," but I offer intercession instead. Impulsiveness has taught me to avoid offering myself as a living sacrifice. My frustration with others reluctance to lean into God's power caused me to evaluate my spiritual journey more closely. I had to get still with God on last night and ask him a difficult question. I asked, "Why do w...