Our births are, and will always be one the most profound common-place of miracles. An event deeply remarkable and phenomenal. A timeless deed that immediately but intentionally and briefly makes angels of us all.
Then life evolves as we get older, we flicker on a screen of ‘how it could have been’ by folding and unfolding upon our mind’s eye which brittle like a crushed dove’s wings. We suddenly begin to accept that our health is also another gift from God, especially after overcoming a diagnosis, but we sometimes take it for granted.
Still, it hangs for its dear life on a thin-thread as fine as a spider’s web. While the smallest err can make it snap, leaving the strongest of us helpless in an instant, as the weaker hearts wobble. And in that instant, hope is our only protector, and love our cure-all.
Life is fueled by learning new things, encountering new people, or sometimes handling challenging paths. But there will always be laughter when joy sips in… ‘tears when disappointment emerge un-invited… making exaggerated but clearer revelation a must for us, as loss or gain of mutual affection we have forged in friendships over our lifetime would only last us all the remaining days on earth.
#FromAgeToAge
While a child, I mastered the act of overriding discomfort with the thoughts of accepting everything washed away as a fresh potential dawned. Eventually, in every wave of change, there comes a new beginning. To embrace strengths, tackle weaknesses and keep dreaming.
My next floor is filled with flights that’s taken many forms by relying on God’grace. It seems unfurling like feathers… tickles and enchanting… a compose of soaring upward into light… a fresh gratifying department that runs deep… A retreat from the unknown and total disconnect from pain or unprofitable bonds towards a visible joy!
Aha, approaching 50 has enabled me not-to-feel the need to be understood, included or accepted regarding worldly expectations. It’s granted me more time to sit back and observe, as I realize that literally not everything life dishes out needs a reaction as I begin to trust my intuition more.
#NaYourWay
As we begin Year 2022… ‘What’s your next flight like? A bustling or empty enterprise? Is fear keeping you tethered.. terror clipping your wings? Hey, No shaking! Hope can still lighten the sky, while Love will continue to make us courageous!
And at the end of climbing those steps, what mattered most is not what the curious monitoring-world expects, or whether we blow, hide or fly… or even where our journey takes us in life.. but what guides us home… from age to age… ‘and-where-we-come-to-land! Because in the end, we all become memories.
There are many things about life in which you have no control. Accept those things as part of the way God created you. Your ability, race, culture, language, nationality, and many attributes of your physical being are God’s choices, for a purpose.
Counting down to… #Enchanted 5.0 #Project50andBeyond #JustWOW #MsGansy@50#CancerFREEdeclarationOfGRACE
It started with a single picture. Then collection of old blurry birthday pictures all taken in May of 1991, 1992 & 1993. Some had the lustrous backdrop of the beautiful SB Bakare’s Mansion on Queensdrive Ikoyi, others the bustling Maxi Class restaurant on Olu Obasanjo at D-Line in Port Harcourt and some, inside the glossy emerald green walled-dinning room of my Lagos Island residence. Boxes of pictures I came across during early spring Covid19 Lockdown while decluttering my garage.
Oh, I could tell it was a festive period and my yearly impromptu birthday celebrations, as it had several young adults mostly dressed in jeans and colorful t-shirts, either on break from various Universities or recovering from the Jamb rejection letter and had gathered at my place on the Island or in Port Harcourt, at a chosen venue to celebrate my birthday.
My face lit up with joy, as I remembered the faces, then immediately was replaced with pain and sorrow.. amidst the depressing pandemic going on, I’d realized that several of the happy faces radiating warmth and youthful outbursts from the pictures were either so far away or just…No More.
Good, Young, Cordial, Vibrant, Dear Friends: Gone! at their prime!
Even as their memories live on in the pile of pictures I carry with me, or with their immediate family members that were almost impossible to reconnect with, a feeling of despair resonated deeply within me!
How do I want to be remembered when I become just a memory in someone’s pile of picture collection?
How do we create memories? Will I be defined by my character on a good day? or be shamed by my weakness?
While happiness can be temporary, and so easily stolen by the circumstances in which we live in now, joy cannot be stolen; it can only be handed away. It is our decision to either live in joy or walk in constant disappointment.
I’ve always picked joy, sometimes it finds its way in the crowd to nominate me, I guess, ‘while been hopeful. How about you?
To fully wrap our heads around this precept, we must first understand the difference between happiness and joy.
Happiness depends on outside circumstances. Joy, on the other hand, is an internal decision we make based on the conviction of things we believe will come about, but that our eyes have yet to behold.
Even as this rogue and ruthless virus has swiftly stolen so many pre-planned joy-filled events and people robbed us of very special occasions and memories we hoped to have. Disappointed doesn’t begin to describe what we were all feeling, but we shouldn’t give up.
But I’m sure you could relate your own story of loss which occurred within the first few months of this pandemic. Graduation ceremonies, weddings, birthdays and vacations were cancelled, sports championships were sidelined, jobs were lost, businesses failed, money vanished from retirement accounts.
Relationships are rebranded! Sex life for married couples received an instant memo of resuscitations for detour! Marriages once on eggs shells are either cracked-up fried or nurtured by test of time!
Close to my heart, there’s an uproar and alarming rate of isolation for families with special needs children while healthcare disparity tightens hopes for families awaiting conception. I’ve had to counsel and give hope to those who’ve gone through miscarriages, a topic that has always been surrounded by silence and pain, while COVID-19 has made the experience feel even more isolating.
Aha, all these trials, those very ones which ruthlessly steal our joy, they can act as maturing agents in our lives, if we manage to hold onto our faith through them.
So, even in the midst of it all, Is it still possible that one more brutality piled on, like so many before it was finally too much?
Is it possible that this is a turning point in understanding and addressing the ways in which racism eats away at an entire society while ravaging some far more than others?
Is it possible that the past week is the beginning of real change?
Photo by Miguel u00c1. Padriu00f1u00e1n on Pexels.com
That, this is a struggle with a long history, but a struggle that must succeed.
Is this our new NORMAL?
Adaptability and Hope.
No matter where you are. No matter what you are facing. Step out in faith! May your next month, and the month after, and the one after be full of cheerfulness, gaiety and laughter; to cause or raise happiness and unspeakable joy.
So, I watched America’s Got Talent #AGT last night with my kids and witnessed a spectacular triumph with Kodi Lee emerging as the Champion.
My kids, 15+, 13+ and 8 at first were not as thrilled as they were rooting for Detroit Youth Choir, since we are now Michiganders, #PureMichigan! so I got my thinking cap on and did my best ‘Yinka-take’ on the issue.
Kodi is blind and has Autism Spectrum Disorder. When it was discovered that he loved music at an early stage, that became the one positive coping strategy He maintained against living in this world where a child is ‘boxed-in‘ because of their ‘disability“.
But He was still able to steal the hearts of viewers and voters alike with his silky voice and renditions of classic ballads.
According to his mother, “We found out that he loved music really early on. He listened and his eyes just went huge, and he started singing, that’s when I was in tears. I realized he’s an entertainer. Through music and performing, he was able to withstand living in this world because when you have autism, it’s really hard to do what everybody else does. It actually has saved his life playing music.”
Ordinarily, He is like a little kid and his affect is typical of someone on the spectrum; but when he gets behind the keys and opens his mouth; It’s like, you have been blessed with the presence of an angel.
There is no doubt in my mind that this young man is not just “special” (as the generality of people want to label him) but divinely gifted.
It is also evident in the support of his family and his interaction with his Mom, siblings and Dad. It is obvious that they have spent countless hours working on his “strengths” and his love for music, giving him the courage to go out there and not just thrive but also shine brighter than anyone else.
Each and every child with special needs or not, has been endowed and divinely blessed with unique gifts! ‘and that’s what makes us all SPECIAL.
The high point of the night for me was after he had been announced as the winner and was trying to celebrate and his mother took his stick from him so he can have a happy “tantrum” jumping as high as he dared and clapping with a huge smile on his face.
I challenge parents today to observe closely and find that spark that lights up their child’s imagination and brings them joy of accomplishment, believe me it might be the most mundane task, but when you find it, celebrate it with them every time they work hard or feel faint about it and enjoy watching them blossom.
God’s Peace,
Kevin Folarin Lawrence – is an active member of Man Voice@DCN and “My Child Thrives” – by DCN, a Developmental Care Network Support Group on What’s App & FACEBOOK for families and caretakers of children on the spectrum/disabilities. He can be reached at kevin@dcnmail.org
To celebrate my 22nd wedding anniversary this week, I’d decided to go down memory lane by sharing the mysteries and amusements of my courtship days with my three very assertive children while also planning a surprise lyrical-poetic date with my husband. #Spontaneous.
I wanted to challenge myself with that epic romantic charisma of Abishag, a certain biblical sister who knows how to step up her game and keep her man complete! (oh yeah, King Solomon’s beloved).
To fester excitement, I began searching through my garage for reflections, until I eventually came across an old box labeled ‘old pictures and letters’. With great expectation like that of Pip, but a lurking resentment of someone delving into a hornet’s nest! I dived into the pile. Oh boy, am I in for a surprise?
There I found my memorabilia of poems and short stories, collection of blurry old pictures stored away from over three decades starring back at me.
I felt guilty.
Then a pang of helplessness, like I have abandoned treasured friendships and memories to decay away in dusty old boxes. Urgh!
And, that’s when I saw it. Tucked away as if waiting for this day to declare its long-denied benefit! I pulled back the musty flaps and slid out what appeared to be so long a love letter!
Scribbled fragile treasures of pure declaration! Intimate words of sacred devotion from the heart. Romantic gratification of pampering words, carefully expressed through the mighty power of a common pen and paper put to work!
Oh my world! Such alluring hot raps!
Pile of Hallmark cards, love letters, created since ’1994. Carefully-cursived to illustrate a lover’s desire! Coherent selection of diction that emphasizes outpour of affection from my then boyfriend, now turned husband, with his pictures deliberately taken from L’fait studio after a patterned haircut from Choices Barber to tinkle my fancy and probably keep others at arm length.
I decided to share with my children…
Oh, what a scene! The kids started with that mocking ‘Aww… ‘so cute…
Then they burst into laughter…
“This-is-so-lame! So torturous! Who does this? the kids exclaimed with such an annoying exaggeration! ‘This is so archaic! ‘Were you guys in some form of Shakespearean poetry class? Why not send a text or a cute emoji to express yourself instead of writing a book! ‘There are over 1000 emojis to describe that speech” they exclaimed! Less poetic but extremely apt.
Oh-my-world!
So, many of us still have over hundreds of letters, poems, pictures with friends taken over decades of youthful discovery all stored away in casual boxes, collecting dusts, enticing molds, just like mine. Some shouldn’t be part of us anymore, some will be needed to bring the spark back into our love/sex lives, while some, we keep to remind ourselves of what love can do on crummy days.
Don’t you think the Song of Solomon is a lot like those letters hidden in the box I found in my garage? Nicely tucked away between the introspective book of Ecclesiastes and the prophetic book of Isaiah is a work of poetry that memorialized mutual attraction, romantic love, sexual desire, and enduring marriage between a man smitten and a woman bedazzled.
To convince these kids, I devoured the pages of the Song to discover what the couple did to make it work. Well, after almost 3 decades of thinking we know it all in our marriage…’What I saw was that they flirted and fought, made out and made up, served and savored, and never stopped exploring new ways to keep their marriage fresh.
The Shulamite in the Song was a wise woman who took deliberate action to keep her marriage strong. Sauntering up to her husband as he’s overseeing the fields, whispering in his ear, Her warm breath teased his neck, Flirting with him still.
‘Come, my beloved, let us go to the countryside, let us spend the night in the villages.
Let us go early to the vineyards to see if the vines have budded, if their blossoms have opened, and if the pomegranates are in bloom, there I will give you my love.
The mandrakes send out their fragrance, and at our door is every delicacy, both new and old, that I have stored up for you, my beloved. (Song of Solomon 7:11-13).
Oh dear…I didnt just cook these up folks, because God made sure it was in the Bible for a reason. I don’t think it took too long for Solomon to change his schedule, cancel his meetings, and pack his bags to hang out with her!
Why is it that passionate romance routinely fizzles out over the years? Hallmark romantic cards has been replaced a single speechless or invisible social message! soul mate so easily becomes a roommate? Why does the rapid heartbeat of excitement in the early years morph into the heavyheartedness of disappointment in the later years?
There are many reasons why passion cools, but it doesn’t have to. That certainly isn’t God’s plan. He has a much different desire for our passiona and sensuality in marriage.
Do we understand that sexual intimacy will change as we grow older. Hormones wane. Libido lessens. Stamina decreases. Bodies don’t always cooperate. Acrobatic moves decreases. That’s a given.
But I believe intimacy can grow and mature into something sweeter, deeper, and more profound than any clothes-ripping frantic frenzy ever could be.
Today, if you are reading this, ask what’s your/my Shulamite Woman Challenge? and who can satisfy the last aching abyss of the human heart?
Are we still in awe or astonished at how creative our thoughts can be when expressing ourselves? Can our words carry volume and live long after us? Life schedules, challenges and sophisticated social networking devices replaced the fun-fare of meaningful expression?
Our love/sex Lives comes caffeinated with surprises. Modifications. Transitions. Alterations. Dispositions. And with the changes, we realize that every confidence, every affection, every devotion that is not based on a personal relationship to God will be reprobated, not only in the experience of the individual, but in the history of the world. Overtime.
I am hoping someone reading this will become more Shulamite-like through the lessons of pateince, consistency and perseveance, while love finds its root!
As the month of April comes to a close, many have spent the month bringing
awareness to the many faces of Autism. As any parent or family member who has
a child on the Autism Spectrum knows, this life is exactly that:
‘A Lifelong Experience’
I am blessed with two sons, both on the Autism Spectrum.
Now that they are grown, Ages 21 and 22, I can reflect on the many moments, early on before diagnosis, when I was full of doubt and confusion, thinking I was a terrible mom and simply did not know how to raise children.
What I didn’t realize was that I was being prepared for a life of adventure, smiles and small victories that would be major accomplishments in my eyes. No matter what, we are still parents. Parents of children that have so much potential and as their parents, we must remember that we are their best advocate.
We are also the ones to teach our children the life skills they need to survive in this unforgiving world.
As my sons have grown older, I have realized how much more they need assistance in everyday social situations. When children are younger, supports tend to be everywhere, but as they grow older, those supports seem to be less and less, especially if the child functions high enough to go to college or have a job.
Teach your child to be a good citizen that can function in society to the best of his/her ability. If your child is very young right now, this may seem a lifetime away however, before you know it, you will be looking at each other saying “Now What?
Keep in mind, while this may seem overwhelming at times, remember there are others who have been in your shoes and you CAN do this, and so can our kids!
Never be afraid to reach out to those in similar situations for support.
Together, with prayers, patience, community support and love, we can nurture young minds and raise resilient adults when we focus on their potentials now.
Written by: Valerie Lawson.
Panera Bread Rochester Hills
Stan Lawson (Val’s son) at DCN Autism Clinic Fare
DWMH Autism Seminar
2019 – St. Claire County DCN Special Education Fare
2016 – Novi Panera Bread
*For the past 3 years, Valerie and I usually meet one Friday in a month after clinicals at different Panera Bread locations to brain storm on assessment & treatment planning for children with disabilities, pray about challenging caseloads, talk- deep about life, laugh out loud & silly like teenagers over bowls of clam chowder as we continue to implement developmental disabilities initiatives. I met Valerie in class during my practicum/residency program Fall of 2016).
Valerie is a Behavior Consultant with DCN Autism Clinic in Michigan, a caring and devoted mother to two young men with Autism, ages 21 and 22 years old.
My favorite part of eating out in a fancy restaurant apart from the ambiance and good food is usually observing the composed and mastered display of hospitality of the stand-by waitress or waiter; particularly how they keep attentive eyes on the customer. We hear things like…
“MayI refill your glass?” “Are you enjoying your meal?” “May I get you something else on the menu?” “Is everything okay?”
Whether we see it as a glorified spoiler tip or a dedicated show of servitude, these are all part of the menu and already paid for because the motives are intentional! We-are-Being-served or Filled-up, On purpose! Simple.
One of my favorite memories while growing up was a particular visit to a fancy restaurant with my dad (inside Eko Hotel) and the exciting feelings of the warm reception of being waited on, catered for and the wide smile on the waiter’s face as he continuously came to our table to ask if he could do more!
I was only 9-years-old, but could have sworn everything on the menu tasted so good and far better than anything in our kitchen at home! #NoOffenseMom
My Dad ordered a huge glass of Chapman for himself, and a bottle of orange Fanta for me. But, I wanted a taste of the chapman too…So I quickly drank up my boring orange Fanta and tilted my empty cup towards him…’looking up at him…just smiling, not a word uttered…’but with a child’s longing, innocence and “feed-the-child-now face!
“Papai, fill me up! I whispered in my tiny shrill voice. And He did…poured some of his drink into my empty cup, at first to taste and then more willingly and intentionally. *(Papai is a Portuguese term for Daddy of Father).
Now and every time I share the story with my 3 kids whenever we dine out….’they always laugh at me and say #Gross or ‘Eww Seriously! Mom, honestly, we don’t want to share your drink, just get ours! or Phew, that’s so #Savage… Mom!…Ah, but what-do-they-know about life?
So, we all have those metaphorical ‘Fill it up expectation cups’ in our lives! Some hold love for others, some expect acceptance from others, while some are usually tilted sideways, facing or directed towards the wrong people, the wrong location, the wrong ideas, all waiting and expecting to be filled, loved and fulfilled by the world. Some seeking emotional comfort in all the wrong places, while others already capsized and given up on getting filled up, again or ever!
Today, as you are reading this, even though you did not meetall your expectations, would you still say you were intentionally filled in 2017? Was it a nailed-it year or are you still in the process of discovering how to slay it? Perhaps, it was a year of good riddance to bags of rubbish?
Oh, hold on!!, was it an eventful one with unlimited passion or zeal to move on? Were you initially hopeful but now downcast? Imaginatively surprised because of a new life, new birth of ideas and closures on unmerited projects?
Or like me, did you acquire relevant wisdom and surprised yourself by finally doing it? #Fist Bump! Or you lost some hope initially but gradually building up courage, again?
Anyone feel like a soaked-up squeezed-out sponge? Or on a brand new horizon because of lessons learned from the past? ‘Or still burned-out trying to meet up with someone else’s needs… ‘His needs… ‘Her needs… ‘World’s needs and just never having time to remember YOUR own needs?
Was your cup eventually filled? Full, half way or still empty, waiting, anticipating? Debating? Are you still holding up your cup(s) facing up and expecting to be filled?
What angle is your cup tilted to? Who is it directed to? #ChangeTheAngleOfYourCup
How often do we hold out our empty cups towards others? Oh, how many times have we joyfully pour into other people’s cup, always filling it even when not prompted to? Why so?
How often do we appreciate and savor our own blessings? ’Logically, should we be expectant? What would it take for us not to focus on the inconveniences we encounter along the way that sometimes accompany the good things in our lives?
Or maybe in 2017, we have been offering our open cups to the wrong filler? And when those cups are not filled as expected…’these moments of disconnection and conviction causes us to consider the condition of our heart as well as the circumstances that surround us. Which forces us to assess soul situations, our emotions, edgy responses, unkind words, missed opportunities, snippy attitudes, and the myriad of rebellion we have got going on. Hmmm…
‘Ever thought of questioning why we keep running on empty for a purpose? Maybe it was intentionally crafted? Maybe it is because we are holding out our empty cups in the direction of people who are also holding out their empty cups in our direction too?
I am hoping someone will embrace 2018 knowing and accepting that all things work for their good and it is intentional. That when we tilt our cups upward and trust only God to do his part, we will not have to run around to people or places, hoping to get filled up.
Yours in HOPE as I share Intentional by Travis Greene. Yinka.
As crawling gives way to toddling and then striding, so does every relationship that would stand the test of time! It is like a child moving more steadily through the physical world, un-perturbed by the unknown rough pathway ahead, but determined to thrive.
Our relationship with others should always crave for improvements and ability to reject being the ultimate mentalist! Or self-appointed mind-readers we think we are. Only if we make room for acceptance.
How often have we erringly misjudged the mental states of others, such as their background upbringing, sexual orientation, feelings, thoughts, intentions, baggages and deceptions because we feel there just isn’t enough vacancy in our hearts, anymore?
Should we allow our minds to navigate deeper into the cross-currents of the broader social world while we struggle with our differences? Is there really a perfect mate? And for people who have given up on searching or loving, should there exist a fundamental difficulty in trusting again? ‘Fear of series of strong headwinds, uncertain tacks, and treacherous eddies?
So, here I am today, August 14th 2017, exactly 20 years ago my ever so-loving-Father walked me down the hallway of The Marriage registry at City Hall Lagos, into the arms of the one true love I would ever encounter! The same bespectacled-guy I met 3.5 years earlier who couldn’t keep his eyes off my one-nation orange halter-neck romper and wouldn’t get off the wall of the newly opened Club Towers night club to dance, who’d pledged the same night jokingly ‘He would marry me someday’ on the dance floor at The Whyte’s party on Glover road and then, Oh-my-word! ‘eventually showed up at my home church, Holy Cross Cathedral by making himself comfortable in my family pew, singing Agnus Dei, like he took Latin classes in college, showing off in his brand new well ironed patterned shirt, brown suede penny loafers while driving the smallest blue car ever driven in Lagos! … #Daewoo Tico
#WE DO…then in 1997, and 20 years later…#WE STILL DO
Phew! It wasn’t easy…trust me, but was worth the fight to keep on keeping on!
From the misconception of what the romantic novels we read say about marriages, to the soap operas and knowledge based books or audio we tune to! From the no-experience marriage counselors or confused life coaches sprawled all over, to the perception social media breeds about what marriage should be…that’s just 1% of the back-slap advice compared to what your destiny has to offer you…’there is no manual or directory to the quick fix we all want to know.
After decades of seeking internal peace…I’d realize Oh my goodness! I don’t know it all, He doesn’t know it all either, we are actually both still learning, and our ultimate wisdom should come from God. Alone. Period.
Isn’t it like someone giving you a relationship advice and it just doesn’t work? Their wisdom, your wisdom and my own wisdom are limited. It’s subjective and faulty. And while the implementation of earthly wisdom can and often does bring some benefit, it will not always lead us to the safety and ease we long for deep inside. Some marriages must surely pass through the burning funnel for a couple to become certified companions, while others would fall along the way if their hopes of survival is based on other people’s manual and perceptions.
Let’s face it. Relationships can be cruel, Life can be scary and marriages that have refused to hit the rock after series of extended-third-party-family-or-friends-interrupters-involvement-busy-bodies melodramatic episodes have finally shut-the-front-door after them…’what’s next?
If you are reading this and wondering, How-in-the-world-did-THEY-do-it? I know right? I usually ask myself too (lol). But, God’s wisdom is perfect. It leads my heart, mind, and soul to safety and rest in a world that is filled with scary realities and uncertainties. You just have to name the challenges… We have both walked through it together…24 years and counting.
I am hoping someone reading this, at any point of their relationship would also tune in to God’s wisdom – when we hear it, yield to it, apply it and obey it – we will live in peace. Not the world’s peace – God’s peace. We will be at ease with all imperfections. Not with perfect lives, but with lives that are led and not controlled by fear and anxiousness of what tomorrow would bring in their marriages, relationships, courtship or friendship. We can and will experience peace in spite of the chaos in our relationships. Be encouraged!
Yours in HOPE as I share our wedding dance/favorite song “FOR YOU” by Kenny Lattimore.
They say “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” I-n-t-e-r-e-s-t-i-n-g! Would that be through food or tummy rub? Hmm. Just thinking-out-loud here!#TimeToRefresh
I am yet to come across the proverb about the way to a woman’s heart, or is the way INTO her more important? flowers? empty promises? trust? #TimeToRenew
But a woman’s heartfelt emotions never lie, even though she hides the bruises under her sleeves, her heart never stops beating, even when crushed by mere words. #TimeToRestore
In my Aunt’s house in Port Harcourt, where I spent my young adult life while in the University…’there is a huge kitchen, women around the kitchen table and topics that turns heads.
Young and vibrant as I was then, I couldn’t wait to fall in love and prove to them that their talk was cheap…or so I thought!
In that kitchen, there were always women who came to visit my Aunt from different walks of life for motherly advice: There were the single and high maintenance, married and moody, separated, divorced, recently rejected, frequently abused, hidden scar carrier from youth, runaway bride and complicated relationships.
Some came glamorously dressed in their flashy cars while some had to trek or take public transportation with a cranky crying baby strapped on their back. They were always inside the kitchen talking or standing by the sink wiping away tears.
And in the hearts of those women, there was always CONFUSION, HELPLESSNESS & FEAR.
Fear that this time around that mastered recipe of life won’t work for their current circumstances.
That the man who promises love and life would never propose! Or think they are not good enough!
That the single young adult girl will walk down the aisle only when she’s ready, and not when the society dictates or calculates her biological clock!
That the man in their life will leave his meal unfinished and their marital bed untouched!
That the man they think they know will soon find pleasure in someone else’s arms or home!
That probably she has served him too much affection or not enough. That he is already too full of life, or hungry for something or someone else, and that it will be their fault.
That the womb that’s been praised so much would begin to alert restless in-laws to raise eyebrows and question the delay of childbirth or the loss of a baby?
That the wide beaded hips that swayed to the beats of the drum he so much-loved to hold would never carry the weight of his off springs?
That her place and destiny to propel would never be supported due to His insecurity or male chauvinism!
That the cold hands of death would ever separate them… so soon!
Matters of the heart of a woman may be hidden or tucked away behind the soft succulent tissues of her bosom; covered with fancy fabric woven with care, but also attacked by the fingers that created the woolen fabric!
I don’t know about you, but for me, I want my heart to know it is okay to heal and beat again… ‘that just like any woman reading this right now to know that: Hidden behind my skin so fair, soft and tender, that part which has been cracked once and still healing is finally ready to show the world… ‘I GOT THIS” by God’s grace!
So, as we begin to countdown to the upcoming TWC’17 on April 27th to April 29th 2017, permit me to indulge you in some surprises in store:
What should YOUR HEART expect at TWC’17 ?
That its time to put the past behind you and…’REFRESH, RENEW & RESTORE
Relax in a luxurious 2 night stay at a beautiful golf resort/conference center
Get served Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner…’just as you like it!
Participate in a One-on-One counselling to discuss those topics we keep locked up
Engage in Me-Healing sessions: Will I be heard? Who gets what I am going through?
Listen to inspiring ministration from speakers and worship team
Indulge in Girls night!! Shhhhhhhh. It’s a surprise! #WeGotGameNight
Comedy night.., ’maybe laughter and good jokes is really all a girl needs to warm up her heart! #GuessWho’sComingTonight #FemiObama
Workshops & Breakout sessions
Support group building and bonding for challenging workplace issues
Morning power-walk and Zumba session
Share your story and inspire others… #ShareYourStoryInPhilly
As you read this, ask yourself… ‘What is a valued centerpiece in my heart? Is my heart an arbitrary harbor of commotion? A solitary confinement for hope…ONLY I bear the burden deep inside as I suffer and smile to portray a perfection that is nonexistent? Does anyone care?
Have you ever considered that perhaps God isn’t longing for you to come to Him with perfect, polished prayers, with fifty-cent words and flowery language? Have you thought about the pleasure God experiences when you simply approach him just as you are, fragments, bruises, warts and all, because He loves you? He delights in your attention. He takes pleasure when you come to Him simply because you are His.
Do you ever feel a strong pang or spasm within you whenever you recall a certain disheartening event from your past? Even though it’s meant to be locked-up and discarded far away from your subconscious, it still finds its way to interrupt the joy you thought you have built for the present day, and shatters all the dreams for your future plans.
Some call it unforgettable memories; many call it the past that never left; to others, it is the wound that never heals! Whatever name it’s called, believe me, every single woman reading this has experienced dealing with one or more!
We’ve all had that heart fracture, heart split, from the goofy lover-boy from down the street with tales so tall it hurts! Some from intimate family issues that never were resolved, complicated relationships, loveless marriages, lost love due to separation, divorce, death or childhood trauma that’s now affecting our adult lives.
We all know someone still battling with the weight of the pain from their past, that’s crippling their heart and holding them back from approaching a whole new life that God has in store for them!
Isn’t it time to walk out of the ICU of our mindset? After listening to people who have walked similar paths? Isn’t it time to trust our hearts to beat again and move on?
How do we explain the fear of the thought of sex or just being touched even with the one we have been married to? Or why the addiction to sex is just a carryover of the foundation we were forcefully introduced to during our innocent childhood? Or why we have to be so insecure and never able to trust anyone again, calculating and playing vigilante with every prospective suitor? especially after trust has been broken, either mentally, physically or emotionally? How do we allow our hearts to go on? How do we love again…
“Ring-a-ring o’ roses, a pocket full of posies, A-tishoo! A-tishoo! We all fall down”
What do I do when instead of spontaneous falling and getting back up again in my childish glee and giggle, I am held down by the shackles of trauma… molestation… fingering… rape… incest… emotional neglect… physical abuse? And we hide under the umbrella of a barbaric culture that silenced the victim’s voice but uphold the face of the culprit! should we just bury it in a place so far deep in our subconscious, that it ceases to exist? Hmmm or did it really happen? Have we been brainwashed to believe it never happened? What do you think?
Volcano: 1 in 3 people were abused in childhood and carry these scars to adulthood. Sequelae: Fear of intimacy, Sexual acting out and Addiction
Come April 27th to April 29th, all of the above and more will be discussed at the 2017 Total Woman Conference by seasoned speakers who will also be providing one-on-one counselling.
“Forget the hurts of the past, Forsake unwholesomeness, Forge ahead in the power and authority of Christ, Forge into new frontiers of love peace & prosperity”
And because sometimes, life is a game that will always be played on, but God’s love is always unconditional and never changes! Let’s be deliberate by being a part of the movement that aims to turn our pain into gain and propels us to become THAT woman God predestined us to be.
Don’t let the pain you are going through deter God’s purpose in your life.
When you are alone, in privacy, during the most intense period of your day, are you always calm? composed or just tolerant?
When you are in the shower or sitting on the comfort of your toilet bowl at home, does your mind begin to play a crossword reality check game with you? Do you drift or wonder into oblivion? Or you focus on some relaxing memories as you try to ignore images and flashes of the next chapter of your life?
Well…
I-do-a-lot! In fact, that is one craving routine for me! My bathroom is my go-to solitary hide-out!
As a kid, anytime I need to escape the piercing words or the back-hand slaps from my mother after I have really crossed the lines, I would go hide inside the toilet with a novel, preferably Penny Jordan’s M & B tucked inside my Brighter Grammar book, a pack of bazooka bubblegum, can of waterboy spray, drummer-boy air-freshener; and a short prayer hoping that by the time I come out much later, my mom and her stop-over-to-visit-anytime siblings are not waiting for me in the dining room to dissect and analyze my “queer and mysterious apocalyptic ways”
‘Hmmm, Aunty Virgie, ‘I told you she’s weird! I bet she talks to herself and her unseen pals, ‘We need to take her for charismatic deliverance! They would whisper among themselves as I sneak by and pretend not to understand their language and creep back into my room.
And today, It’s no secret in my household that, my bathroom is still my ‘thinking and hiding zone’ especially when I bolt the door behind me to keep my prying kids out! Phew!
“Open the door mommy, I need to tell you or show you something!
‘I-am-busy-now! I usually scream back as I return to my indulgence with a deep sigh of relief.
Ah! The serene sound and soothing effect of the running hot water on my skin, creating a tornado of misty steam, the aromatic lemon grass scented candle dropping its wax in unison to the beats of the water splashing….such bliss!
So, my oldest daughter just became a teenager, a dainty one and not as dramatic or crazy or a firecracker as I was at her age! #ThankGodForThat
And the more we grow together under the same roof, the more I become weak in the knees seeing how much she reminds me of me then in so many ways!
I stumbled upon her journal and there goes pages and pages of pure undocumented short stories she had written over the years, and a recent write up about her spiritual encounter at “Breathe girls only retreat” organized by About One teenager ministry @ #BrightmoorChristianChurch and her joy at spending time alone too…in the BATHROOM!
My heart did a backflip two-miles away from my body until it dawned on me she-shares my-passion-for-writing! and for all I care, could be writing the story of my life!
And I thought about my own life … my own past … my own relationship with my mother!
And yet … there are many times when my life does not exude that joy, maybe when I was a teenager…
Why?
Maybe I have forgotten what it was like to witness the wonder of His presence in my life. Those times when my life was too crowded for God, and I just needed to breathe again…
Today, whether you have a teenager under your roof, or you know a teenager who looks up to you as their roof, how much do you really know them? How are you fueling their lives for tomorrow’s story they intend to write about?
Isn’t it is so easy to relegate our spirituality to religious activity? When all they really want is to learn the path to follow? When we allow them to do more or all of the talking, while we wait on them?
Oh Yes!!There is a teenager in my house! and just like God longs for us to forever run into His arms, sharing every hurt and rejoicing in every victory, that’s exactly how every teenager yearns to wrap their emotional-arms around us, completing the peace we so desperately need!
Won’t you Join in today? and live a life that celebrates the amazing truth that opens the doors to a teenage-heart!