October 24, 2011

woman thou art loosed

I'm not a screamer...nor a shouter.  You know, the organ going a mile a minute....serious footwork, head boppin', hair flyin', face sweatin' - shoutin'.  The old church used to call it "catching the Holy Ghost".  The new church has some sterile version of it, which still includes yelling out "Hallelujah!  Praise da Lord!  Thank ya Jesus!  Say it Pastor!"  Don't get me wrong....I get my praise on.  I'm just not usually very vocal.  It's a personal relationship between me and God...so I tend to speak in a regular tone of voice or even a whisper, as if He's actually as close as inside of me...or at the very least, standing right next to me with His arm draped over my shoulders with pinkies locked...Boyfriend-style. :-)

But when I went to TD Jakes' women's conference, Woman Thou Art Loosed, in Houston last week, I felt the power of 16,000 women (with a few men sprinkled in...) singing, yelling, praising, shouting, laughing...many at the top of their lungs.  It was humbling to say the least. Standing in the heart of this...."movement of loosing", I took the opportunity to survey the room, breathing in the essence of the moment.  And it was a moment.  A turning point.  I know it was Divine strategy that I was there.  God knew I needed to be.

I went alone seeking guidance, direction, peace, inspiration, encouragement and a Word from God for my life. There is something absolutely freeing about being a stranger amongst thousands of soul-thirsty women. Who I was (or wasn't) didn't matter in that place.  Nor where I had come from or what I looked like. The only thing that mattered was I was there with the same agenda as the sister-strangers I was surrounded by. Every woman had come for a specific and special reason.  Had been drawn there through tribulation and pain and heartbreak and brokenness.  Each of us had pressed our way to a Divine appointment with The Healer, and we were not left disappointed. 

I held my breath during each session, with pen in hand, intently listening for MY Word....MY reason for missing two days of work and flying all the way to Houston.  Although the teaching was good and anointed on the first night....I didn't come away with anything that hit me hard enough in the heart.  The second night, I connected with Pastor Paula White, whose personal trials and tribulations made her that much more relatable to me.  I thought her teaching on discovering my authentic self...and her breakdown of transformation and life changes was the word I had come to hear.  Not quite. And although Sheryl Brady was awesome and moving and demonstrative on Saturday morning with her teaching about what to do when you find yourself in a whirlwind created by a tornadic person in your life...I still hadn't gotten IT. 

It wasn't until Cindy Trimm took the stage that I recognized my breakthrough.  I have to admit, I didn't think she would be very good (...it was obviously my first time hearing her speak). She was using her laptop and seemed to be reading her notes a bit much for my taste.  I like organic teaching...that seems to come unrehearsed and straight from the heart. Dr. Trimm admitted to preparing for 6 months for the conference, but at 2am the night before, God had changed her whole message (...which is why she was sticking to her notes...glad I didn't judge too quickly and shut it down).  She dissected the cycles of life (spiritual & physical), how the mind is the womb of the spirit,  the importance of the number ten, and how many of us are OVERDUE....said the enemy has been fighting us because God is about to BIRTH something important through us.  By the time she finished breaking down revelation after revelation...each of which I took very personally, I was ready for IT.  When she instructed us to put our left hand (which symbolizes judgment) on our stomachs and the right hand (which symbolizes blessing) on top of the left....I felt something run up through my gut and burst out of my eyes and mouth.  It was like a delivery (...or perhaps deliverance...).

 I yelled to God at the top of my lungs with tears streaming down the sides of my face..Maybelline and all.  In that moment, I could care less how I looked, how I sounded, who was watching or not.  It was a moment....a Divine moment.  God was breaking through, bringing me to a climax after a 368 day journey. Selah.

So now that the 16,000 sister-strangers have dispersed, returning to the four corners of the world to fight another day....I am left changed.....and facing forward. 

bite of the day ~ Free yourself and birth your new life into existence.  PUSH!!!


October 11, 2011

lessons from the golden pair

I was but a girl of 7 or 8 when it happened....a shiny brown girl walking down 51st street with a grin as big as the moon.  Hand in hand with my sweet cocoa mother I walked. Excited because we were on our way to find a brand new pair of shoes!  It wasn't everyday that a girl could go shopping for a shiny new pair....especially since Daddy was no longer there.  In the house, I mean.  Sure, Easter was coming up which was cause for the occasion...but her intention was to grab a pair to wear way beyond that day.  Functional, they call it.  

Well, all of that went out the window when I spotted THEMA perfect little pair of golden slippers...with no less than a string bow near the toe.  It was as if they were made just for me....destined to hug MY toes & soles and no other...like Cinderella....or even Dorothy (think The Wiz....not The Wizard of Oz...lol).  So after trying to convince me to go with a more "sensible" color like black, my mother finally conceded and allowed me to have my golden shoes which I put on right away.

My first love affair.  Beautiful.  I was gorgeous and dainty and cute and lovely....when me and my golden pair were together. That's how they made me feel. I wore them everyday (that she would let me!)  And when I wasn't wearing them, I was playing with them, looking at them...always had them near.  And everything felt right in my world...for awhile.  Then I began to notice the fit was becoming a little snug.  Uncomfortable.  Nevertheless, I continued to slip them on day after day....after day.  Through the growing discomfort and then downright pain, I would not stop wearing my beloved shoes! J'adore!  One day, I could no longer hide from my mother that I was outgrowing the golden pair, as she inquired whether they were tight.  I lied.  "Oh no!  They're fine.  They feel good!" I wasn't ready to end it just yet. 

And I never would be.  I was finally forced  to face that the affair was OVER.  I had grown and where I was going...the golden slippers could not. And not because I did not love them anymore (J'adore!)...but because our affair had turned sour long before into something hurtful...painful.  They were no longer good for me and I had not wanted to face it....but eventually, I had to let go.  Had to find gorgeous and dainty and cute and lovely without them.  When I finally did, the scars left behind were evidence that I had held on way too long.  And some scars never go away...(no matter how much Dr. Scholl's you use).

Thinking back to me and those golden slippers, it was a foreshadowing of things to come....a peek into my personality that was there from the start.  A trait that would bring me joy & pain, pleasure & sorrow.  Immense sorrow.

bite of the day ~  IT'S SO HARD TO SAY GOOD-BYE TO YESTERDAY....but sometimes, you have to.  Selah.