The Bible speaks of mothers against daughters and fathers against sons. You can find the scripture reference in Luke 12. We are living in that season now! Everybody I know literally, unless the child is a kid, is or have had struggles with their children. Why is this?
I remember getting upset at my granny but I don’t ever remember a time where I went to sleep angry at her or vice versa. That one time she beat the skin off me, I was something worst than mad. But back then you didn’t express it. At least not outwardly. She told me to get myself together and go down stairs and eat and that was the end of that. You were not about to walk around in her house with an attitude or not speaking. It just wasn’t allowed. So I didn’t know to do it.
My children have gotten mad at me and have not spoken to me for weeks. Kisha and I have not spoken for over a year before. When they lived with me I didn’t allow it. They’d try it and I’d tell them they’d better get it together. As adults I’ve experienced it with all three of them. I hate not speaking with them. They’re apart of me. I want the best for all three of them. I hate when I don’t feel like they are striving and thriving. It grieves me for real. Most of the times when me and children fall out it’s because I won’t bend on my beliefs. I won’t compromise. I never will. Not for the sake of our relationship because reality is I’ll always be momma and they’ll always be my children. That’s our relationship. Nothing nobody can do about it.
I truly believe that the devil loves these conflicts. He glories in them. I believe my children know this too. They were raised in church. And although they don’t attend any more, well Kisha and Kirvin, I know that the word is in them. They are all grown now so I can’t worry about their spirits now. My main concern is keeping my spirit clean. If I know I’ve done well by them I don’t allow them to sucker me. I’ll allow them to state their points and I’ve gotten emotional behind it before too. But I won’t take down. I will not.
So why is it that it’s daughters against mothers and sons against fathers? Why is that? Outside of the biblical notion I don’t honestly know why! I can only speak from my experiences and my lessons. I do know that I don’t like it. I don’t like any parents experiencing discord with their babies. I know the struggle and the fight that parents endure to raise their babies. There is no book on raising a family. I believe all parents do what they honestly believe is right. Rather they get it from their parents. Their parents parent. But I know parents want the best for their babies and we’ll go through hell and high water literally to make sure of it.
I spoke to my pastor about me and my daughter issues. Everybody with any bit of sense totally gets it. But sometimes you need another grown person of wisdom to make sure you’re not crazy. My Pastor, my friend guy, my uncle, Pam, and a sister at church all said the same thing. When things are not going her way she tries to use a hardship that the entire family experienced to hurt me. It use to work because I hadn’t forgiven myself for what had happened. But I’ve forgiven myself and everyone that was involved. I’ve apologized to myself as well as to everyone that was involved. You see again, it’s very important that I keep my spirit clean. I can’t worry how anybody else would handle the situation. I have to do what I know is right. And that’s forgive, apologize, heal, and move forward. Therefore the blame game or guilt trip no longer works on me. I guess I’ve been delivered. Jesus has released the pain and the hurt of it all. He’s forgiven me for praying and not watching as the Bible instructed me to.
People, those that are close you, will ALWAYS bring up the bad things when they are hurt or upset. They’ll never mention ALL the good you’ve done for them. I know this but sometimes ignore it in the heat of everything going on. People, especially those that are close to you, can be manipulative. You have to always be aware of that. Strangers can’t rub you like people you care about.
Me and my oldest son has always had disagreement about who he dates. Now mind you my track record is all jacked up in the dating and marriage field but I don’t care. It’s no secret that I’ve taught my sons since they were literally babies to bring home somebody that looks like me. She can prettier, I don’t care. But she must look like me. I’m proud to be their mom. My thought process is that a black woman made you. You’re where you are now because of a black woman. So I believe it’s only fitting that you show some respect and bring me a black woman home. Now I know men have to explore. At least that’s what I’ve been told. So go ahead and do your thing before you get married. Because when my sons say, “I DO”, she needs to look like me. It’s not debatable. If you’ve read any of my other post you know I’m old fashioned and country and I make no excuses about it. I honestly believe I’ve raised my babies with good morals and values. I gave them everything I could. Could I have done better, of course. Instead of all the traveling and shopping I wish I would have been buying them stock and land. But I didn’t. So I did the best I could in the mindset I was in. William don’t really hold grudges. He use to not talk at all, literally. But as he got older he’d say his piece and keep it moving. He’s always been wiser than his age. My granny always said he had my grand father, Bill Abrams in him. I believe it too looking back. He’s even named after him.
My baby boy, my Jesus! He’s the baby. He will always be my baby. For years I couldn’t see anything he did wrong. Teachers had been telling me for years that KP was cutting up in school and I always blamed it on the other children messing with him. He’s been funny his entire life. At 22 he’s still funny. Our fall outs are behind me pushing him to be a better man and him wanting to stay stagnant. Not being ready to grow up. He and Kisha are so much alike. It’s funny looking backwards. It’s not funny when I’m dealing with them in live time. It’s frustrating. Last year August something I felt was bad happened and it end up working for his good. It lit fire under him and within 30 days he was on his own with a salaried job! I had been fussing for the entire summer and just like that the light bulb went off and he’s doing good.
I love my babies but I’ve never been that mother that wanted to be friends with my children. I’ve always commanded respect and that’s what I’ll get. All three know what the consequences are if not. Now what they do behind my back or when I can’t hear it that’s on them. I use to tell them they can go to their bedrooms, close the door, and call me whatever they want in their pillows, as long as I don’t hear it we were good. I stand on that to this day. They are all grown and they take care of themselves so I know we are not going to see eye to eye. But I will not be disrespected. I will not be cussed at nor will they ever hit me. I enjoy hanging out with them. I learn new words and sayings. When we’re together it’s so cool and loving. I can live with just the three of them and my two puppies for the rest of my life. Well not in the same house. Hmmmm let’s talk about that.
Both of my boys have lived with me as adults. They were raised by me. My children didn’t have aunts and uncles and grannies that they went and stayed with for the summer. Their summers consisted of traveling, reading, and extra curricular activities. They were in day care up until the oldest was 13. Had we not left Memphis they would’ve stayed in daycare till they got put out. I didn’t believe in my babies hanging out at the mall and on the block. They had to be doing something productive. Anyways both of my boys know I’m a neat freak. I can’t stand a dirty house. I believe that when they were living with me for the short period of time that they were doing things on purpose. Like leaving the kitchen and the bathroom dirty. Leaving their room dirty. To this day my baby boy will NOT fold his clothes. What’s that about? Why leave all your clean clothes on the bed and floor? Who raised him? Again I love my babies all the way to their inner bone marrow but we can’t live together. My daughter when she comes over she won’t sleep in the beds because she says she doesn’t want to make the bed back up and put 30 pillows back on the bed. By the way, I don’t have 30 decorative pillows on the bed. Only about 20, duh! Anyways Kisha knows she can’t live with me so she does her best to make sure she never has to come back home. I respect her for that. Now mind you all three bedrooms are still set up just like when they lived in them.
Last month I had to stay with my oldest son. It wasn’t that bad. But he just doesn’t clean like I do. He even told me one time, “Ma I pay rent here!” I said boy I don’t care. This floor still needs to be swept and whatever else I said, I can’t remember. William doesn’t pay me a lot of attention. He knows my short comings and pretty much ignores them. Smart man! He’s going to make an awesome husband to his beautiful black wife.
Anyways I got off the topic. Why do parents struggle with their children when they get older? I guess as for me and mine when they were kids they couldn’t get jazzy with me. But I guess they feel like since I don’t give them five cents, (that was always my threshold with them coming up. If I give you five cents you gone do what I tell you to do), that they can do whatever they want to. And that’s correct to a certain degree. Don’t disrespect me. That’s all I ask. I give Kisha more wiggle room than the boys but she swear it’s the opposite. The boys have NEVER texted me the things she has. But I also know that she still struggles in certain areas so I let her make it. I’ll always be her mom. I’ll always love her. And always be there for her. Rather she ever realizes it or not I’m her biggest fan. I want the best for her. I just won’t accept the foolery.
Oh, have your children ever said this to you? I didn’t ask to be here? My Jesus I’ve heard that enough. My response is and always will be, I didn’t either! I think that’s the silliest thing to ever say. Nobody asked to be here. Either you believe in evolution, the Big Bang. Or you believe in Jesus Christ and we were all predestined. Either way no one asked to me here. Duh! Silly!
They say what don’t break you makes you. I’ve had my share of heartaches and upheavals, I promise you I have. I have decided to choose peace and love. Anything or anyone that interrupts that has to go. No restrictions. No respect of person or things. After constantly getting hurt or going through you get tired. So me with all three of my babies is love and peace. Parenting is a struggle but I enjoy the ride. I enjoy the ups and down because I honestly believe at the end it’s all going to be well. When they were younger they needed me. But as I get older I realize I need them. Each one of them brings something into my life that I need. Without all three of them there’s a part of me that’s not right. Like a void that needs to be filled.
Anyone else out there experiences discord with their children? Anybody? How do you handle it? How do you feel about it? Let me know!
What’s wrong with us today? Why are we so weak as a people? You can stare at a person now and it’s called bullying. You get behind on the water bill and you start crying. Why are we so weak nowadays? Why so emotional? I’ve never been to war. I have all the activities of my limbs. I’m closed in my right mind. I have a job. Bills paid in full. Nothing but a house note and some student loan bills that I don’t plan to pay. Been through hell and high water literally. But I won’t complain. I’m not bent over crying why me Lord. Heck why not me? I mean really, who am I? Don’t nobody owe you NOTHING. Yes it’s nice to be loved, appreciated, wanted, and all that. But just in case none of this happens to you I’d suggest you learn how to live with you and Jesus! The world and the people in it are not like it use to be. I don’t know why. Heck I’m guilty. I don’t know my neighbors. Back in the day we knew the entire neighborhood for blocks. It’s not like that no more. Get over it. But stop crying so much. Accept it for what it is and be grateful for just today. Today is sufficient. It’s enough to. Let all that mess, stuff, drama, and anything else or person go. I don’t know if life is short but I do know it’s precious. Man I get down but I’m like the inflatable doll at parties, I get right back up. I’ve been lied to and lied on. Talked about and mistreated. Folks have been fake with me. You name it. But guess what? I’m still standing. The beauty of it all is my later days are and will be better than my former days. I thank God though for yesterday. I thank God for the sit down time he blessed me to experience. I thank God for the hurt, the pain, the trials, and the tribulations. I honestly count it ALL joy! For the joy of this current world is not to be compared to the joy that I’m striving for. I’m so thankful on today that trouble don’t last always. I love you all with the love of Jesus. If we don’t talk don’t take it personal I’m working on me. Jesus is restoring me and that’s a process. This new journey won’t be for everyone to come, for they won’t understand. So he’s weeding people and things out of my life to get me ready for this that’s to come. Pray for me and with me that I be what Jesus would have me be in these last days. Literally. Not what church or man says but what Jesus says! Y’all be blessed out there!
My granny always loved me. She always knew when I was upset or sad. She could tell. A few years ago I was going through a troubling situation, if I can say that, and I wanted to see my granny because I think I thought I was going to die. So I’d go up there and just chill with her. She’d say, “what’s going on lil girl?” I’d lie and say nothing. I don’t know where she get it from but she always knew what was going on in my life. She’d always say she got a phone call. Hmmmm. Momma I’m good! She’d say okay. Ummm Hmmm! Lol!
I’m so grateful for my granny. She is a gem. She’s a pearl. She’s a precious seed. She raised a lot of people. I get a lot of my ways from her. My thinking from her. It’s because of her that I’m the woman I am today. You talking about suffering long, my Lord she did that and more! This woman is life for me. When times got hard I always heard her voice and it gave me strength. She raised me the best she could and I’d say she did a PERFECT job! That’s not to say I’m perfect. I’m saying what she did to me and for me was perfect, both the love and chastisement. She gave me morals and values! She taught me Jesus. She taught me my place as a woman in this world. Yes I believe women have a place in this world. She didn’t teach me how to cook and clean but she was the example that I saw do it.
My granny was funny. Those that know her know exactly what I mean. She spoke the truth. She called a spade a spade. She saw everything. She heard everything. She’d lay upstairs in her bed and look out the window and see and hear everything. She could tell you everything that happened on the block the night before. We called her nosy. But whatever she was she was the epitome of LOVE. She NEVER told any of my secrets and trust me she knew them ALL. When I was wrong she act like she didn’t know. When I was right she rewarded me.
She birthed 7 children and raised them all. She outlived all but three. Four if you include me, her 8th child. She’s really my momma! She’s who I called momma! She sacrifice so much for me to have and do! I remember when I got pregnant as a teen. She was hurt but she didn’t make me feel bad. She took care of me. She nourished me. She taught me how to carry myself. I remember one time I wanted to throw on a sweat suit and she said, “no you not wearing that. You’re going to keep yourself up while you’re pregnant.” You see keeping yourself up meant a lady wore a dress and kept her hair combed. She never told anyone I was pregnant. When I had Kisha and we took her to church folks were so shocked. I didn’t get a stomach at all. I was 100 pounds, if that, when I got pregnant. About 116 when I delivered Kisha. So it was easy for folks not to know.
Momma worked for Sears! Kisha had everything that Sears sold for baby girls, literally. Then her children spoiled Kisha double what they spoiled me. I think my Uncle Dale thought Kisha was his. One day Kisha had a rash on her tongue and momma took a pissy pamper and cleaned Kisha tongue with it. I cried. But guess what? My baby tongue never had to be cleaned again after feeding. She was known for these old school remedies. Castor Oil was given for cramps, ear ache, torn skin, you name it! And somehow it cured everything.
Momma had flowers all throughout the house. On the porch. They had names. She watered them and rearranged the soil in them. She spoke to them. She said they spoke back too. I don’t know why but when I was a kid I thought Momma was a little throwed sometimes. Plants talking? Okay. But they would move and she said that’s when they were talking. I never heard Momma complain about nothing. She always had a smile on her face. She talked and walked fast. I guess that’s where I get it from. She always carried a purse and a little tote. She was allergic everything but Jesus. So we couldn’t have perfume or nail polish remover or anything with a scent in the house. She loved gardening. She planted beautiful roses in the front and back yard. She grew vegetables in the back yard. We kept a basement full household items. Literally. I still do this to this day. She kept a deep freezer full of meats and cookie dough for me. I use to do this when my babies where younger.
My granny never disrespected my granddad, in front of me anyways. I remember as a kid not liking him because I saw things maybe I shouldn’t have seen. I’d assumed my granny knew. I’d ask her why daddy come home so late, She’d say, “stay in a child’s place.” But in my insides I didn’t like him. I think the feelings were mutual. I thought and still do think that momma was gold. She was supreme. So I never wanted anyone to hurt her. Although when I got pregnant again and dropped out of college I knew I had hurt her. She wanted the best for me.
One day in July 1992, the 4th to be exact, my first two children father beat me. It was exactly what I needed as fuel to light fire under me to do something with my life. The 7th of July I joined the US Army. I was determined to make my granny proud of me. She was shocked when I told her I was going to the Army. Everybody was. But my thought process was that I had to make a living for me and my babies and prove to my granny I wasn’t a failure. Momma always had beautiful eyes. To see how she looked at me with that look made me feel like dog mess. She’d never say I was a disappointment but I know she expected great things from me. She had told me about the American dream, you know, go to college, marry your high school or college sweetheart. Buy a house and have babies. I was doing everything in reverse. Momma would say it was the perm that I had went behind her back and got, had messed up my brain. I didn’t believe that back then but I do believe those chemicals throughout the years goes into your skin and causes damage. I don’t know how much but I believe it does do some damage. And she said that my children father made me get pregnant. For surely I wouldn’t do it on my own. That was my grandma! I could do no wrong on my own.
To know my grandma was to experience love. Everybody knows that. She loved everybody. She may not have liked what somebody was doing but she still loved them. The children in the neighborhood that were bad, momma said don’t call them bad. She said they needed Jesus so she’d take them to church. She use to send me to the neighborhood children houses and asked them if they wanted to go to church. She’d come get you too. She wasn’t afraid. Now church with my granny was different then church now. You came to church with your Sunday best and you got somewhere and sat down. There was no walking and talking in church. You used the restroom before church and after church. That’s it. Oh my and absolutely NO chewing gum. No ma’am. She said it made you look like a horse. The only candy she’d give you was peppermint. To this day I can’t stand peppermint.
I slept with my granny my entire life. Even after I had Kisha some nights we’d both sleep with momma. She loved Kisha just as much or more than she loved me. Just as she didn’t want me to wear pants she didn’t buy Kisha pants either. She bought her pearl earrings like she did me when I was younger. And of course she was at the church house just like I was. My uncle Dale and Auntie Barbara cherished the sight of Kisha. She could do no wrong in their eyes. Momma told me as Kisha got older that I needed to take her to get her hair done every week like she did for me. So, I did just that. Kisha had a standing weekly appointment all the way through high school except when she wore braids. Just as momma and Auntie Barbara taught me to wear matching underwear sets, I did the same with Kisha. I allowed Kisha to wear pants though. I had started to wear them after I had Kisha so I let her wear them too. As she got older I explained to her about wearing pants and then she started wearing only dresses and skirts. She had told me as long as she could dress cute she didn’t care. So every weekend I took Kisha shopping to buy her pretty clothes. I loved it. Enjoyed it. But somehow I’d get played every week for she’d get in trouble during the week and I wouldn’t find out till after we’d go shopping. Momma didn’t have that problem with me. I’m not saying I was perfect but I wasn’t a bad child coming up. Fast but not bad. I couldn’t really leave off the block. Off the front porch most of the times. If I went around the corner to my mother house, she’d walk me over there to the corner and she’d watch me till I ran up the steps. For the most part, I knew the consequences of my actions. Plus my weekends were always filled with something to look forward to so it wasn’t in my best interest to be bad. I use to get paid for good conduct and grades. I got money from Jimmie, Auntie Barbara, Anthony, Diane, and Dale. So see I had to focus. And Dale had a girlfriend during my youth named Deborah that would take me shopping every weekend too. They had this white Monte Carlo SS with the moon roof and we’d cruise down Western to Evergreen mall and shop all afternoon.
Momma never liked any of Dale girlfriends or wives. NEVER! Well she did like Deborah a little. The others didn’t stand a chance and there was secret about it. Once my two boys met my granny as an adults they both told me now they understand my thought process and how I raised them. I have so many ways and mannerisms like my granny. I don’t really realize it till it’s pointed out or till I start going down memory lane.
Last weekend the family was in town for her home going and they told me so many stories about Momma. How she kept me close to her. There was no secret that I was her baby. I won’t say favorite because she loved us all. I was just there. I lived there and my cousin just came sometimes on the weekends. They use to call me Lil Fick! When I was a young girl Momma was a women of few words. We talked about my school work, shopping, church, getting our hair done, modeling, you know all things woman’ish! Lol! It wasn’t until I got married that she begin to talk to me about life. She taught me to respect the man as the head of the house. She told me that my children would do whatever they saw me do. That the woman sets the tone in the house. She told me a man was to fill respected and supported. She told me to take care of the inside of the house and man would do the rest. I tried my best to follow her lead.
Momma worked because she wanted to. She didn’t have to. She also loved being a house wife. She ironed everybody clothes once a week. Kisha was the oldest so guess what? She ironed hers and William clothes every Sunday for the entire week. When Kirvin was born Kisha ironed his clothes and William ironed his own. I never washed or ironed prior to going into the Army. And I still don’t iron. I do enjoy washing now though. I remember in basic training I washed all my BDUs and sweats in hot water and shrunk them. I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know how to properly make up a bed either. I didn’t have to do these things as a child. I made sure my babies knew how to do things like this. I didn’t wash dishes either. I remember my biological mom telling me to wash dishes at her house one day and I ran away. I just couldn’t relate to that. My other three sisters knew how to do all that and more when they were 12 plus years old. So just like I didn’t know how to cook I can’t honestly say that I taught my babies how to cook. Although I believe now all three of them can cook. I can’t cook nightly meals to this day but I can cook a full Thanksgiving meal from scratch.
My granny died the 13th of November. I had just landed at Love Field and got a text from Dale that she had stopped breathing. I couldn’t understand. I had just left momma and she was doing well. No way! Dale are you sure, I said. He said, Sandra, yes! He was cooking in the back. Had checked on her twice. Came back she wasn’t breathing. To this day something doesn’t register in my heart! Like I was just there. Her skin. Her eyes. The way she looked at me. She was lying right there. No way! My granny is gone. I can’t believe it. Momma! Come on man! No way! My momma is gone!
When I would go up to Chicago I’d sleep in the bed with her. We’d both wake up pissy. I didn’t care. We’d get up and bath and be back smelling good till the next morning. I slept with her the night before she left this earth. We both woke up smelling good because she was using the rest room in a bag. I had just wiped her down and lotion and massaged her body. We listen to some old school gospel. She liked it. She started coughing and I yelled for Dale. She needed a breathing treatment. The lotion I was using had too much perfume in it. Dale ask me was I wearing any. I said no. I don’t wear that mess. It was that lotion. He gave it to me. I wondered why she was using it but I tried to not question Dale too much. He was doing the best he could.
The night Momma passed I began to have back aches. I counted it as stress. Got up went to work the next day. No need of staying at home. I was staying with my son anyways. I don’t have a social life so I’d just stay at his place and lay in the fetal position and cry. Nope wasn’t going to do it. So I got up and went to work. While at work the pain in my back was getting stronger and stronger. I took two 800mg Motrin thinking the pain would go away. Nothing. I begin to cry. So I went to urgent care and they sent me to the ER. At the ER they gave me an IV and morphine. My blood pressure was 147 over 97 which is high for me. I’m normally 90 over 65 or so. I asked them to redo because thats high for me and they said not now. It was because of the pain. So once they got my pressure down they gave me a CT. I was passing Kidney Stones. I thought it was just stress. The doctors told me that stress could’ve brought it on. You know they say stress is the reason for EVERYTHING! So anyways they kept me for the rest of the day/night then released me back home. I stayed in pain for right at a week. My Jesus, the only thing that compares to the pain is labor contractions. When I tell you I was popping pills every three hours instead of every six hours, it’s no lie! I told nobody but Pam and a friend that I always call and tell everything to. I think I may had told my little sister Kim and that’s it. I was in so much pain and so hurt about my granny that I got depressed. I felt like the rain just wouldn’t stop falling on me. I begin the “why me” cry and had to snap out of that because I knew I’d go downhill quick. It was a pleasure to be back in contact with my friend during that time for I always enjoy talking to him.
We don’t know why things happen. We can get upset and cry but it doesn’t change anything. I had to surrender my thoughts and the pain. I had to stop being so angry. I began to think on the good times. I thought about earlier this year when I was happy. I thought about all the tennis I watched. The puppies I met. The times me and momma talked on the phone. I thought about even in the 9th hour how she didn’t want nobody in her head. I began to laugh and smile and cry but it was happy tears! You really do have to think on the good things. The good times.
My granny was good to me. When she got confined to the wheel chair I never thought she’d die. I know that sounds crazy but hey, I’m crazy. I thought momma would live to see over 100. She was in good health. But when you are confined and have to depend on someone to turn you and clean you up it’s different. Momma developed pressure soars. I heard about how bad they had gotten. I was there when the hospice nurse came to change them but I didn’t want to see them. I also never accepted that momma had dementia. We talked. She heard everything everybody was saying. She told me. She told me that they thought she was crazy so she played the roll. The woman knew everything. She hadn’t forgotten nothing. Some of the things we talked about heck I had forgotten. Dale and Keyia said she was seeing snakes. Shame on their ignorance. Momma was trying to worn them in the spirit of something. The snake represent the devil. I remember I had a dream that a snake stood right up in front of my car with its neck extended. I told my family. No lie, shortly after, my daughter and her friends had gotten into trouble. I had prayed with them and told them that something was going to happen. I didn’t know what but the Bible says warning comes before destruction. They thought she was losing it for seeing snakes. She wasn’t. They said she’d say she saw me in the corner. Well maybe she did. She always said her hubby and Aunt Barbara would come and speak to her. She was not crazy and did not have dementia. She was momma. Different. She was loving and caring and nourishing. She loved everybody. She felt like everybody needed Jesus. When children in the neighborhood got into trouble she said they needed Jesus. That’s love! She never condemned. She’d call you out on your wrong but she’d help you fix it with love and calling on the name of Jesus. She always told me if I got into any trouble to call on the name of Jesus. And guess what? I taught my babies the same thing.
My uncle died in 2016. Before he died we were on the sofa talking and I was sharing with him my feelings about his father always being around the corner at the whole in the wall. He shared with me how momma and his father use to always have parties at the house. That momma use to dance and drink. I was like no way. I put my hands over my ears. I was not trying to know that momma. Now I did know that momma drank Old Style Beer but that’s all I was receiving. Other than that I didn’t want to hear it. She was a perfect woman in my sight. Yes, beer drinking and all.
My granny said that you love your children with your hands and you chastise them with a rod. So yes that’s how I tried to raise my babies. Kisha and Kirvin would run so sometimes they caught my hands. But I always started off with a belt and I’d go the buttocks on down.
After school I had to go to my nanny house till momma got home from work. Her name was Aunt Helen. She’d feed me the food momma left for me and watch me. One particular time Aunt Helen had to go to the store so I had to go with her. I didn’t know we were going to a thrift store. When we got there I said no ma’am I can’t go in there. Momma didn’t take me to thrift stores. She told me to go in I said no because I’d start itching. She was something mad. So she told momma. I had to still be in elementary school. Maybe 6th or 7th grade. There was no way I was letting the neighborhood children see me in no thrift store. Nope! Well I don’t remember what day it was but it was midweek. I didn’t get a whooping that day. I thought I was good. Just fussed at. Lord have mercy. Come Friday she picked me up from Aunt Helen house, it was right across the street from our house, and got me to the house. I did my normal ritual of taking a bath getting ready for dinner. My Lord here comes Momma up the stairs with that plastic extension code that goes from the back of the phone to the wall. I hadn’t even finish drying off. Momma was tall. She wore me out. I mean literally. I didn’t know to run like Kisha and Kirvin did me. So I did all sorts of jumping jacks, rolling, crying, screaming, and yelling. She cared not. Diane was in the room behind the bathroom and that beat down woke her up and she told momma that was enough. Momma kept going for a little bit longer. She stopped, told me to get dressed and go downstairs and eat. Eat? Are you serious. I can’t feel my body woman. I’m sure that’s what I was thinking. But I did as I was told. That’s the ONLY beat down I got from Momma. Now I got a lot of nails dug in my thighs. That’s how she’d chastise me. But disrespecting elder was prison time in momma head. And to this day, I will NOT disrespect my elders. I had a white man on the aircraft call me a nigga and I simply had him removed. Never said a word to him. When you get chastised like that you remember the lesson. You don’t repeat it at all.
On this Thanksgiving I’m thankful to have known Momma. I’m thankful to have be in her presence. I’m thankful for her taking me in. I’m thankful for her loving me like she had me. I’m thankful for the 95 years that she had on this earth. I’m thankful for the memories we shared. The secrets we kept. I’m thankful for the hugs and kisses we shared. I’m thankful for the trips we took to Beloit. For the times we spent picking peas and shedding them, picking collard greens and potatoes. Thankful for the Saturday morning hair appointments we did together every Saturday my entire youth. Well till I went behind her back and got that stupid perm. I’m thankful for the long train rides from the south side to the north side to go to work with her. For all the cookie dough she’d let me eat. For her teaching me Jesus. Thankful that she waited for me to get to Chicago before she left me. I’m thankful for how she protected me. She wouldn’t let no one hurt me. Not even my biological mom. Thankful for the women she had in my life like the Griffin girls. Mrs. Griffin, my late God mother. The late Mrs. Evans. My Aunt Barbara. I’m thankful that she taught me how to be a woman. It may not mean nothing to others but I still wear slips. Matching underwear. Still take care of my skin and my teeth. Never wore perfume. Tried make-up but never got to the place where I loved it or felt I needed it. Still believe in calling on the name of Jesus. Thankful to have experienced love with this woman. The good night kisses. The prayers we said together. Thankful that I NEVER told her I was grown. Lol! There is a message behind that! Throughout everything that I’ve been through, it was all worth it because this woman was always there cheering me on when I couldn’t cheer for myself and when others wouldn’t. Momma I love you woman. Thankful I had the chance to tell you!
All that we are is the result of what we have thought; thus so a man thinketh so is he. Proverbs 23:7
I know I long for love. Love stays on my mind constantly. Why, I don’t know. There is so much to think about throughout the day but yet my mind stays on love. I go about the day doing my job. Focusing on my goals but every break or moment in between I think about love. I think about being loved. I think about loving somebody.
What is wrong with me? Why am I so consumed with the topic of love? The feeling of love? Don’t we normally crave the things that we are missing? Well perhaps that’s why I constantly think of love. I’m lacking in that area.
Some people are so good that they can be by themselves forever. Some people don’t need nobody. They have everything they want within themselves and that’s awesome. That’s beautiful. As for me I can’t exist alone. And yes I shouldn’t say can’t. Let me change that; I don’t want to. I’m trying to be careful of the words I use because I believe that you can speak a thing into existence. I try to keep myself in a positive space and think on things that bring me joy! And thinking of love brings me joy! Writing about love brings me pleasure. Being in love is complete ecstasy.
I think about the good times. Ha! Here I go again with music. But didn’t Michael Jackson have a song that said, “I think about about the good times!” Yes, check it out here, https://youtu.be/dei_8HX_eVQ When I’m by myself I think about the good times. The times earlier this year when I felt loved. When I felt warm and cared for. I go back and look at pictures. I remember times spent together and they make me smile. Even as I type this I began to smile because, yes just the thought brings me joy!
I think of the good times with my children. Acting silly and talking about literally everything. I love that we can talk about everything together. Now we don’t always agree. I don’t agree with a lot of things that my children do but they also disagree with somethings I do or don’t do too. And we talk about it. The communication, even the bad talks, bring me joy! I understand that everything is not always pretty in life but I’ve also learned that there’s beauty in the bad times too. So I’m able to think of both the good and bad and I can find some happiness. Some beauty. Some joy!
I was a baby having babies so I grew up with my children and as they’ve become adults I realize how much I really love and need them. I love there smiles and our heart felt conversations. And trust me we’ve had some heavy hitters, but in my heart I get it all. Love for a child is something special. I don’t care how upset you get, you never stop loving, thinking, and caring about your children. I don’t even think it’s possible.
I think of the times with my Mista from earlier this year and I reminisce of the hand holding. The talks. The FaceTimes. The hugging and kissing. The playing. The intimacy. I think of the misunderstandings. I think of the times when we were “in our feelings.” Again I smile. I think of our personalities and our stubbornness and shake my head. It’s a shame how grown folks can allow things to get away. People to get away because of our pride and egos. I’ve been guilty of this. Now I fight for what I want. I fight hard too. I told a close friend of mine just last week, “fight for your marriage. Put your pride and your stubbornness away and fight for your marriage.” Folks think relationships are easy. That’s crazy to me. How in the world is two grown folks getting together from two different beliefs and walks of life easy? It doesn’t make sense to me. I’d like to think that I’m the most long-suffering person I know. The only other people I know that were and are more long-suffering is my pastor, Bro. Austin, his late wife, my late grand father Bill Abrams and my grand mother Pennie Merle. Oh and my bestie, Fuqua! But I hang in there for years. I forgive and forgive and forgive and I try to work through things. I just believe it’s the right thing to do. We do it with our jobs. We do it with our recreational activities. We even try different fashion statements and plenty of other things till we get what we want. So why are we so quick to give up on love? I don’t know. I just know I’m not. I won’t.
Sometimes when I’m not successful at mending relationships that I want, I feel like a failure! I feel defeated. I’m slowly but surely trying to get over this. When it comes to my children things are different then my relationships with men; That’s two people from different walks of life coming together trying to make it work. And it takes two. And yes it’s hard! When it comes to my children it’s a blood line. You see I grew up with my granny. Not my biological parents. I had so many outlets. I had so many homes and families that I could run to when someone at the current house made me mad. And as children do, I played each one against the other so I lived a life of pretty much getting everything I wanted. My children didn’t have that luxury. I was all they had growing up. So if they got upset at me they had to go to their rooms and talk about the situation amongst themselves or in their pillows. They were not allowed to talk back to me. They didn’t have a voice. They did what they were told. That’s it that’s all. They were the best children you could ask for. I didn’t know different till here recently. I thought my babies didn’t do wrong. My oh my was I ignorant. They’ve since shared their wrong doing and every time I learn something new I’m in a state of awe! But my long-suffering with them is different because regardless of the situation I’ll always be their mom and they will always be my children. We are like siblings in a sense that we get mad at each other and fall out and stop speaking, but something always brings us back together. I know that. Not so with my dude.
Can I just throw this in here? As I’m typing this blog post in my notes this wig is working my nerves. I so want to pull it off right here at work and undo my Bantu knots and look even prettier. I had to get that out. Lol! Okay back to the topic of love.
Basically I love love. I make no excuses for it. I love the good and the bad of it. Is that crazy or what? I love what loves stands for. I love how it’s patient and kind and understanding and forgiving. And it suffers long. It worketh no ill. It doesn’t keep score. It’s just beautiful to me and y’all know I love all things beautiful. Love is warm. It’s seamless.
I love love so much that I smell it. I smell my puppies when I’m not with them. I think of the times my children and I were out and about having a good time. I think of Mista smell. His lips. His walk. Him singing. My children come to mind throughout the day and I’ll start to laugh. I think of my granny and my grand daddy. Love, it makes me happy. I promise you it does. And the bad things, the disagreements, the arguing. The misunderstanding they are all apart of love. I think of the moments too and ponder what I could’ve done different.
Love is not simple yet it is. I guess it depends if you really want it or not. It means a lot to me. It’s a part of me. I love to give it just as much as I love to receive it. It’s breath taking. Thinking about love makes me happy. Writing about it does too. Being in love makes me ecstatic.
I had taken a break from writing this post and began to think about why I think so much about love. Maybe because I have a strong belief in Jesus and I know that Jesus is love, I love the entire concept of love so much. I use to be a fire cracker. Life has happened to me. I no longer wish to be a fire cracker. I only want love, peace, and joy! I don’t want no more fighting and hating. Yes I use to hate and would hate for a long time. I’m so over it. Takes too much energy. I was in a very bad place in my life at one point and the people I was around were all so angry, evil, and wicked. Every time I had a chance to speak to one of them I just spoke love. I don’t care where you are in life. What you’re going through, love is ALWAYS the way. It’s the only way. It’s so much easier too. I promise. I’ve been the hardcore woman. Strong. Bitter. Cut throat woman. Ask my children. Ask folks that’s known me, known me. They’ll tell you. But I’ve wasted a lot of time being that way. I’ve chosen love. I’ll continue to choose love. Even towards those that don’t reciprocate it back.
I wake up some mornings and I begin to just call out names of people and ask Jesus to touch their hearts and their minds. Keep them safe. Shower them with love. Some of us have been through so much that we’ve closed ourselves off. We weren’t meant to live alone. Women, we were made for men. Not the other way around. Men, you all were given to us for protection. For guidance. For leadership. For our covering. All of that, doesn’t it just sound like love! Who wouldn’t love love once they totally understood and surrendered to it. Let those guards down. Pain is a part of life. There’s a rainbow after all the pain, you simply endure. That’s all. Closing yourself off doesn’t keep you from pain. It may appear to but if you keep living you’re going to experience pain. Wouldn’t you want a love one to go through it with you? I know I would.
I know they care but they’re afraid. Everything can be going great and they’ll find something to mess up. Why? I don’t know. Fear? The only thing I can think of is fear.
*an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger
*reason for alarm
I added the last definition. False. Fear is a false emotion. One really doesn’t know if what their afraid of is really true. Or if it will even happen. But what fear does do is cause one to put their guards. You began to sabotage that that you’re afraid of. One becomes deliberate at trying to make sure that they’re afraid of doesn’t come to past. So when things are going great, one stops and think, “nope this is not going to happen to me.” But remember what they’re afraid of hasn’t happened. They don’t even know if it will happen. But somehow they allow themselves to push back. Mess things up.
Anyways, you can feel it. You can sense it. You know it’s something there. But just when everything is getting into a good rhythm, poof!!! It’s over. It’s been like this for a period of time. I go to my note app within my phone and pour my heart out. I don’t dare show it anymore. Being slapped down is just too hard to bare. So I keep it to myself. I don’t share my concerns with anyone but the notes and Jesus.
I ask Jesus to take the feelings away. Allow me not to even think about it. I try to stay busy. But even with me keeping busy my mind continues to drift. I don’t want to think, I tell myself, but I think even the more.
It’s so easy to revisit the good times. For me it’s easy to revisit the bad times too because even within the bad times I felt something. They say hindsight’s 20/20. So I go back and rework every failure. Every misunderstanding. Every disappointment. I begin to think of that song by Luther Vandross, I’d rather have bad times with you than good times with someone else 🎼🎼. It’s sums it all up for me.
Then my second voice comes and tell me San that’s not cute. I don’t want to listen though. I feel like anything in life worth having is worth fighting for. So there is a piece of me that says continue to fight. Heck you don’t have anything else to do. I don’t have a life per se. I still somehow struggle with which direction to take though. I don’t want to look like a fool. But then I’m reminded of that old song, “Everybody plays the fool, sometimes. There’s no exception to the rule.”🎼🎼. However I still find myself struggling with what to do. So I walk and sleep in a state of confusion. That brings me to Phylis Hyman song, Living in Confusion. I love that lady. I love her voice. But my Lord some of her music is depressing. I try my best not to sleep back into depression. I experienced it last year and put in a lot of work to keep myself away from that dark place. A lot of work, trust me. As much as I like being tiny, I don’t want to be tiny due to depression. I don’t eat when I’m depressed. Nope. Not going down that path no more. If I thought what I was after would send me in a state of depression trust me I’d run as fast as I could. But I’m totally in touch with my feelings. I stay on the look out for depression and anxiety. I can’t roll with those two! No can do!
The only other conclusion I can come to is that they are already into something else. And if that being the case I can’t compete! I’m not competitive at all. As a matter of fact I’m a sore loser. I can be playing UNO with the kids. If I’m about to lose I’ll cheat or quit. I can’t stand losing so I won’t even compete.
My brother texted me this morning at 4:30 AM and told me he lost his baby. He was a Bullmastiff. He had him for ten years. I know what he’s feeling. I’ve been there.
He told me his wife found him yesterday at the house around 6 PM. My heart goes out to him and the family. Me and Jason go a ways back. We studied for our CPA together. Spent a lot of late nights studying together and praying together. His wife and two children are simply beautiful. My heart goes out to them.
We hadn’t seen each other in years up until maybe May or June this year. When we met back up it was as if we had just seen each other. Our friendship is solid. He’s like my little BIG brother. He’s younger than me but the dude is HUGE! I named him Ham-hock years ago. If you would’ve seen him back then the name was fitting. He has since gotten with my ex-trainer and now he belongs on the GQ cover! 🤣🤣🤣. No, but for real, he’s taken his health more serious and now he looks awesome. I don’t know why it took him so long. His wife use to be a pharmacist and now she’s a RN. Both of them are super smart.
I’m so proud of him and how he’s maintained a marriage and family for 20 years and he’s only 38 himself. That’s not heard of these days. Anyways the news broke my heart. Those that know me know how I feel about the babies. I don’t meet strangers. He would tell me to stop messing with everybody dogs when we’d be out.
I lost my baby in 2009. I know what he’s experiencing. I found my baby on the street behind my house. He was torn in pieces. I tried to put him back together in the middle of the street. A sister that I went to church with was also a bus driver at my baby boy middle school. She found me in the middle of the road and helped me up. But she also told my son before I could tell him.
The pain of losing a furry loved one is devastating. I don’t wish it on no one. What do you say to a person that experiences this? I don’t know ! I told him I love him because I do and that I’m here for him and the family because I am. You know in life if you can’t be there for others you’re not living. I just don’t believe we’re here to build a fortune for ourselves and just live. I believe we are truly blessed to be a blessing. I really do.
Zeus you were loved. You were Jason best bud. He spoke of you often. He thought you were THE man killer. He had mad love and respect for you. You will forever be a part of their lives. You are gone but NOT forgotten. We will celebrate your life. You will not be forgotten. Your memorial will be one of uplifting and love because that’s what you did. You Mr. Zeus, uplifted, protected, and loved the Moore family!
To the Moore family we furry lovers grieve with you. I love you and I’m here for you. Grieve. Remember. Do whatever it takes and for however long it takes.
What does it mean when you’re black and another black person tells you you act like a white woman? Is that offensive or what? How do white women act? I wouldn’t know because I’ve never been a white woman.
I’ve heard this throughout my life that I act like a white girl and I looked like a white girl. It’s never bothered me before, but when it comes from somebody you like it feels different. Sort of like hmmmm. Wonder what they really mean. Or what they really think of me? It’s sort of disrespectful. Me and this person go way back and it hasn’t been until recently that they told me this. I sort of respect their opinions but this one has me feeling some kind of way.
I use to not mind being called a white girl in regards to my body shape because back in the day white women where tall and thin and so am I. But in 2019 you see white women built like Serena Williams. Now I don’t know if they are buying these bodies or what! Every social media sight I’m on you see the white models telling you to do squats and/or lunges to get this perfect round butt. All I know is that I’ve squatted my knees out and I still don’t have a butt! So I tell myself that I just have a Sandra body. I’m Sandra and that’s awesome! I love my long legs and thin figure! I love that my inner thighs don’t rub. I’ve been told I have an athletic body. I’ll take that even though I’m totally NOT athletic.
Back to this act like a white woman mess. The examples I was given is that I look like the type that would live in Buckhead Atlanta and walk my puppies with a big brim hat! What the what? LOL! So only white women do that? Isn’t that like thinking white women are more socially astute than black women? That’s condescending in my opinion. Another thing I was called out on was the fact that I’m rebuilding my credit. My credit took a lick a few years ago because me and my SOON to be EX made a financial decision that he didn’t uphold his part of the bargain. So, I was speaking on how excited I was that my score is on the rise. They go, “ain’t no black person thinking about credit.” Huh? Really? No black person is thinking about their credit!!! That’s crazy to me. Like flat foot crazy. Mind you this person says they have excellent credit and they are black. I wonder if the person thinks I’m having an identity crisis. And if so when did that begin? In their opinion. I think for the most part I’ve been the same. I’ve gain some weight. As they always say, “heck I’m 50 years old.” Although I’m not. I still have a couple more years. I’m in no rush. Plus I want that credit right by then. LOL! I mean I work a lot now something I’ve never had to do all my life. But that’s cool. This person works all the time too. So I know they respect my hustle. But the whole white woman thing is just totally not correct. I mean I act like a black woman. A beautiful black woman. An intelligent black woman. A black woman that’s putting the pieces of her life back together. Yes I love puppies. I’d love to walk my babies in a beautiful A-line dress and some nice heels and my hair done. But that’s not a white woman thing to me. Yes I love being thin. If I could gain weight and look like the traditional black woman I’d put on about 5 more pounds. Unfortunately my weight doesn’t come on me in such a way. I look like trailer park trash when I gain weight. Mind you I use to live in a trailer home within a trailer park. So I know what I’m talking about. I don’t get the big butt or the shapely thighs. I get HUGE breast. My inner thighs touch and my stomach and back get rows. None of which are cute on me. So I prefer to remain small. Also, I think my breast are still a lit bit too big (from when I did gain weight and looked liked trailer park trash, cute trailer park trash nonetheless) but oh well. It is what it is. I’m worrying about getting my credit back right and getting my savings back right so the breast will have to just be grateful for being cancer free. In honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Can’t leave this white woman mess along. It’s stuck in my spirit. I love my blackness. As a matter of fact those that know me know I tan every year. I even go to the tanning salon and lay in a number 5 bronzer bed. So I’m super proud of my blackness. I don’t ever want to be white nor do I want white people tendencies. Whatever they are. My long legs are a blessing from my dad. My slim body is too. My loving spirit in general, I get from my Grandma. I’m very proud of that characteristic of mine. The fact that I’m culturally astute is because I’ve lived, I’ve traveled, and I’ve experienced life. I see nothing wrong with my way of living. I don’t bother nobody. I’ll help anybody and I love everybody. My Lord what a gift from Jesus.
I did absolutely NOTHING today. I got off work and laid around and now I feel awesome! Sometimes you need to just do nothing. It’s refreshing, I promise! I spoke to a friend early this morning. Then later I spoke to the lady that cleans my house that’s become a good friend of mine. I’m excited because things are starting to look up for me. You know I said I’m giving myself four years to get my life together. I’m in no rush. It’s going to be some small moves here and there but they’ll be vital to the big picture. I’m sitting over smiling as I type thing.
This is not a long post. I just want to encourage you that whatever you’re doing or where ever you are in life it’s ok! Don’t let it overwhelm you. I was experiencing anxiety last week. It helps to have a BEST friend that’s a PA. I need to send her so many $19.95’s for all the medical help she’s given me over the years. Don’t try to understand that, it’s a joke between the two of us. 😂😂😂. Our relationship goes back to 1994. Our relationship has been tested and proven. I love her with my all. But okay I say this to say that everything will be okay. I promise you. Just make small adjustments everyday.
I’m excited for these last three months of 2019. I plan to be intentional. You know a friend told me yesterday to plan and stop rushing to do things. It was good advice. Anybody that knows me knows I’m a planner. But I’ve been off my game here lately. So, it’s good to have people in your circle that’ll bring you back in. Like a lifeguard. I can’t swim so if I ever go to the pool, which I normally don’t, I’d need to have a lifeguard near. This friend was my lifeguard on yesterday and today I’m grateful.
Today was such a blessing. I didn’t read nor journal but my mind was stable. It wasn’t racing. I didn’t think of old times. I stayed in the moment. Yaaasss! I love it. So today was a WIN. Somebody told me I needed to get some wins under my belt to build some momentum. So today was that quick start that I needed. Smiling as I type. Picture this. I’m laying in bed wiggling my toes. TV on in the background with CNN and there every thirty minutes breaking news headline. Heat on 78. Eating on some sweet tarts, chilling. Life’s good and I’m claiming that I’ll finish the year with such peace and joy in my heart. As a matter of fact I’m decreeing it. You know the word says we can decree a thing. I have to start using my benefits. I have to start back speaking the word over my life. Yes that’s exactly it.
So to all my beautiful sisters that are struggling, growing, yes GROWING, through life’s transitional phases, to my sisters that got it going on, you too, be encouraged. We have about 90 days left in 2019, let’s make them count. Let’s do the work to tighten up our shot group and make our dreams come alive. Don’t compare your story with no one else. Stay in your own lane, but grind. 🥰🥰
I started reading in 2017 and I can’t stop. At some point I need to put these books down and take action. However, every time I start, I see another good book, help me please! I need an intervention. But no not really! I try not to buy more books, I promise I do but I’ll pass it up and not buy it but It’ll stay in my mind. Before you know it I’m on Amazon buying the book.
I want to speak about a book I just read by Mrs. Paris Love titled, Embrace Your WOW Factor, 7 Ways to Love Yourself Free of Apologies and Free of Excuses. I read this book yesterday. You will not stop till you finish reading it, I promise! It’s a quick read filled with golden nuggets that resonates with you. As you know I blog a lot about the emotional and mental trauma I’ve experienced. This sister here is on point with her steps to advance you beyond the hurt and pain. You can purchase your very own copy at EMBRACE Your WOW Factor: 7 Steps to Love Yourself Free of Apologies and Free of Excuses https://www.amazon.com/dp/1692855913/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_EYJJDbD4MKMN0. And while you there order a copy for a friend girl like I did. I’d love to start an online book group to discuss the information that this book reveals.
People ask me all the time why do I forgive so easily. Or folks don’t understand how you can forgive someone for molesting your child. Or a spouse that has had a child on you while you’re still married. Honestly it’s not for anyone to understand. I can tell you that I often times don’t want to forgive. The easy thing is to stay in the pain. Have a pity party. Accuse the person of all their evil. Hold the grudge. Constantly lash out at them for the hurt. Question I have is what does that profit? They say San how can you smile through all you’ve been through? My question back to them is, how can I NOT smile through what I’ve been through. Regardless to what I’ve been through I have no need or desire to complain. Now mind you I went through phases where I wanted the first hubby killed, literally. And the second one I busted a vase over his head and damaged his precious baby, his convertible BMW. But it was for a season. I’m able to care and love both of them. Don’t wish either of them no harm. For after all that, I realized it was time to deal with Sandra. Renew Sandra. Fix Sandra. Love on Sandra! So I began counseling and put the work in.
As Mrs. Love spoke about balance and taking care of you in her book, I felt it all. When a person doesn’t take care of themselves, I call it being a busy body. Distractions. Sometimes we don’t even realize we’re not taking care of ourselves because we clean up so well. We look soo good on the outside while the inside is literally deteriorating. I was fabulous at doing it all. I’d pay the $300 for the sew-in. I’d buy the hair bundles for $400 plus. I’d pay $2000 for the Valentino bag! Yes I did all that and some. But I was broken in the inside. See I was a busy body my entire life. I started having children early and got married early. Actually I’ve been married my entire adult life. And yes I love the institution of marriage! However my busy body activities were always trying to be a perfect mom, perfect wife, perfect friend. Give back to the community. Look out for others. I went through phases of blaming myself for years. See I know the word of God. Even when I’m not living it I know it. I beat myself up because I felt that had I been praying and watching as the Bible instructed then I would have known what was going on in my house. But I thank God for counseling and this book. And how I’m still learning to NOT blame myself and to STOP apologizing. The steps that Mrs. Love speaks about in her book that I love so much are biblical. It’s not Jesus desire for us to live under all this hurt and pain. And magnifying someone’s wrong doing does nothing for you. Often times when we hurt somebody it’s not the person that’s getting hurt that it’s about, it’s about the person that’s committing the actions. They’re dealing with their own demons. I learned this the hard way. When somebody hurts you, you want that person to suffer and suffer long. But when you in the mercy seat you want favor. You want understanding. You want forgiveness. I’m telling you I know what I’m talking about because I’ve experienced this. Let that mess go. Let it all go. Focus on you. Get help. I saw this and it hit the point the book and myself are encouraging us all to do.
I also had to learn to stop with the negative talking. I’m broke. He hurt me. I’m tired. All that negative talking picks up momentum the more you feed it. So I had to learn to change my thought process. I still catch myself doing and I try to switch it up. I’m not broke. Stop buying dresses and going to watch tennis when you know you don’t have the money, which is probably NOT gone happen. I’m just being honest here! Sis the book speaks on all that. The Bible even teaches us that’s it’s not what goes in the body that defiles the temple. It’s what comes out. It teaches us there is life and death in the tongue. I love reading. Absolutely love it. And I only read self-help, non-fiction and autobiographies, biographies, and memoirs. But guess what? Everything we need is in those 66 books! I promise you. The Holy Bible is THE Book!
Mrs. Love speaks of living in the NOW! How many of you know that the word of God teaches us to take no thought for tomorrow? Look it up. It’s in there. Why worry about tomorrow? It has its own issues. Plus he said if he feeds the birds how much more will he do for us. The bird don’t be flying around stressed and worried. Sis again, let that mess go. Take in today. It’s beautiful. We miss so much worrying about tomorrow and yesterday too. Here’s a problem that I have. Something happens, let’s say on Monday. I shake it off or really don’t even realize it happened. Come Wednesday I’m all the way back in Monday analyzing what happened. How crazy is that? But I do this. It’s stressful. It’s unnecessary. Don’t let me go to that person. They be like, “San gone with all that!” I’m telling you thats crazy huh? But I do that. But guess what I can work on that. And it all starts with me.
Also I like how she recognized she had to go through her experiences to get the book! Yes sisters. There is a book in us. Don’t feel bad. Don’t be embarrassed. Don’t force something that won’t fit. Go through. Get the testimony. Get the book! My Lord I felt that. I was just sharing with a sister that I have this burning in my belly that gives me anxiety because I want so very badly to tell and share my story because I know it’ll help others. She encouraged me to step out on faith and I know she’s right. But I know my weakest characteristic is patience. I have none. I was talking a friend on yesterday about working on getting myself back together. Sometimes I get discouraged because I can’t do the things I use to do. That right there is a negative thought process because that’s living in the past. See I’m not there either Sis but I’m working on it. We will all get there is we acknowledge it and put the work in. Take day by day and step by step.
I think over the years I’ve convinced myself that I was this perfect mom and wife. Well the truth of matter is that I wasn’t. And I’m not. I wasn’t faithful. I think I’ve justified my lies and deceit because it was always with the same guy over the years. But reality is a lie is a lie. I will never be perfect nor do I have a desire to be. However I do have a desire to always strive to be a better version of myself. Sometimes to others that can look like being ungrateful but I know that it’s me striving and thriving. Something that I wholeheartedly believe in. Perhaps that’s the real truth why I can forgive so easily. I don’t know.
Anyways sisters get the book. Read the book. Pray. Seek help. Learn to get you a daily praise. Get yourself by yourself and start dealing with YOU. What I’ve come to realize is that most of our hardship begins with US. it’s something going on in the insides. But one thing I do know is the struggles, the battles, the let downs, the upsets, the heartbreaks, they all come to build character. They’re not for our destruction. You can live after the pain. As a matter of fact you will live after the hurt. But it’s going to be up to you how you choose to live. I love you and I love this book. Mrs. Paris Love thank you for this gem. Thank you for being transparent. Thank you for being authentic!