It’s Not Always About Just Us: Transparency and Obedience To God 4/15/2020

Good morning, fam.  Praying each of you have an amazing day, today.  The following post is not something you would usually see from me, it may be long, and for the record, the HUMAN me DOES NOT WANT TO DO THIS, as it is VERY personal, and I am ULTRA private.  However, as I was standing at my sink 30 minutes ago, GOD spoke (yes, I LITERALLY heard Him out loud-1st time) and said to post, ON FB, because someone’s life may depend on it.  I MUST BE OBEDIENT.  So I ask that you pray with and for me. PLEASE take the time to read it, even if you have to get back to it later, all the way to the end, as I have NO IDEA who needs or this post.  Whew!  


I was standing at my kitchen sink this morning, looking for my peanut butter to make a sandwich and realized I had no bread.  No big deal right.  Here’s the thing…..I then looked into the refrigerator and the cupboard and something was off.  I then, in shock realized I haven’t grocery shopped in OVER A MONTH AND I DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE IT.  How does that happen?  Now, I know I don’t cook, but I am religious about shopping monthly.  It hit me like a ton of bricks the place that I have been in the house since 11/22/2014.  CLINICAL DEPRESSION!!!!!!!!!!!!  Yes, I am saying it.  Now, I pride myself on being very, titanium-like strong.  Shucks, I am a child of the MOST HIGH GOD AND the daughter Rosemary and Christopher.  You might shake me, but ‘cha can’t break me, right?  WRONG!  

When my Fred left here suddenly on 11/22/2014, on the heels of my Mommiekins going home 10/27/2013, KABOOM 💣🤯   I    SHUT   DOWN  AND WENT TO BED! 

Me! “Supergirl, no sleep, call me-I got you, Crystal”,  SHUT DOWN. 
Here’s how I did it, and no one was the wiser.  As long as I stayed in the bed, I was good.  I continued to take care of all of my business, run my companies, service my clients. and I talked to friends and family, I even stayed in Intercessory Prayer with folks, as usual (BTW, I think that’s one of the greatest things to do, pray for others), so by all accounts, all was well.  I continued to go to family functions, shop, doc appts. etc. , but when I stepped off the bed on the floor, I became immediately unstable, unsure, physically sick and dizzy. In other words NON-REALITY -BASED living, at it’s best.  Everything outside of that bed was DEATH, PAIN, ANGER, OUTRAGE, FEAR, CONFUSION, ILLNESS, FAILURE….
IT’S NOT REAL, I can stay in bed and this is all a dream, so when I got up, it got real.  So I did go out, and looked good too….lol……but inside, I was SCREAMING, RUSHING, RUNNING to get back to “safety” – TO THE BED.
Now, I got within two classes shy of a M.S. degree in Human Service Administration/Clinical Psychology, before I fell too ill to finish.  I knew what I was looking at.  I was very good at my job and still am (praise be 2 God), and have been a Life Coach for several years.  I KNEW I WAS IN REAL TROUBLE and not only could I not fix it, I didn’t want to. And my apartment??????????????  I CRAVE organization and clean fresh space.
My space looks like a robbery occurred in here. CLUTTER on MORE CLUTTER. 
Enter, my friend. I was returning home from a doctors’ appt and she called and said she was around the corner and wanted to drop in.  I wanted to get to the bed, but for some reason, I said SURE and she came.  We sat and chatted for a while and my living room is quite out of order for me, but not ridiculous,  no garbage on the floor, etc., but for me, too much clutter.  For some reason, I got up, and I said to her, I want to show you something.  I walked her back to my bedroom and she stopped DEAD IN HER TRACKS.  I said, “welcome to Clinical Depression, my name is Crystal, and I’ll be your host for this evening.  I saw the tears well up in her eyes and she said “OH, MY GOD!!!!!!!!!”  There was barely anywhere to walk (help me, Jesus!).  Me!  Ms. “It’s so organized, I can find it in the dark”.  My bed was a mass of covers and clothes and my computers and my phone, my note pads and pens………
She got angry and said “NO. THIS STOPS NOW.  Crystal, on 11/22/2014, Fred died, you didn’t and I’m not going to watch you commit slow suicide, now where do we begin?” 
She walked toward my bed and said let’s change the linen and, for a split second, I got nervous because she was touching my safe place.  I walked over to the closet, dug out a bin of the last of Fred’s laundry, took out his shirt, and buried my face in it, and took a deep breath. 
She said, “No, we’re not doing that.  You can mourn him, love him and miss him, but you can’t die with him.”  

Because she chose to be obedient, God used her to save my life.  There’s a lesson about walking in HIS will and being obedient, even when you may not want to….you know, like this very personal post I’m doing.  Thank GOD, because I ACTUALLY heard her and I knew she was right.  I was taking the passive way out of this life.
Fast forward to three weeks ago.  I am doing better, feeling amazing, but I got sick with Bronchitis and went into the hospital for a few days and I’m still battling it, but now, I get up out of the bed willingly, freely, etc.  My aprtment looks better but not great (it’s a Fibromyalgia process). When I came out of the hospital, different people, ones who were not connected in any way, all began to tell me the very same thing about myself……eerie. 
All of a sudden, everything I have busted my hump for over the last 15 years, prayed, cried, begged, studied, sacrificed, stood alone, been called a dreamer, disregarded, devalued for, ….. ALL STARTED TO POUR FORTH, and it hasn’t stopped since.  I am in my purpose, I have no more questions or doubts, I am completely empty so God can totally use me to bless others, who want to bless others, and I FEEL AMAZING!  Bronchitis and all.
Wrap up:  I have amazing friends and everyone is NOT invited to that club, said this Scorpio woman. THEY are my extra layers of skin, going way back. Lots of great and awesome acquaintances and colleagues and strong connections, no doubt, but FRIENDS, the list is small  Cherish your relationships, they can save you.  When God tells you to do something, it ain’t always about you, just do it.  Mommiekins, Fred, I miss you and ache dearly, but I’m finally understanding my purpose and I KNOW you’ll be proud of me.  Thanks be to God for the time I had with you, what I learned, and I’ll see you when I have completed my work down here.  Save me a seat in Glory. I’ll join you, many and healthy years from now, I pray LOL.
I’m spent.  I pray that His will be done with this post.  You will probably NEVER get this close to my vest again (nothing personal) but if ANYONE is blessed or saved, I’m good.  Now, gotta take my coughing, exposed feelin’ self out, right now…..out of the bed, because the water’s just fine.  In fact, it’s clearer and better than ever outside the bed.    Hmmmmm….. this may become a short-story ( I can’t turn it off, can I?  LMBO)  Love you all, no strings attached.


UPDATE 4/2/2020

I am currently in the best place, Spiritually, RIGHT NOW, TODAY, than I have ever been in my entire life.  My journey with God has gone from my head (knowing Him intellectually), to my heart (feeling Him), and NOW, FINALLY, it’s in my SPIRIT and I am COMPLETELY SOLD OUT! 

#StayEncouraged
#NeverLoseHope
#Obedience2God
#TransparencyCanSaveLives
#NotAlwaysAboutJustUs

Pain and Gratitude

My hands are swollen from trying to massage the shoulder, clavicle, rib, elbow, hip, and low back pain away. BTW: I took my pain meds 2 hours ago, and have 10 hours, until I can take more. I will get worse, as the night progresses, because I’m in a Fibromyalgia flare up.

So, what’s the testimony? I praise God, in the midst of this agony, because He’s gotten me through before, and He’ll do it again! There’s NOTHING my Savior will do for me, that He won’t do for you. I lie in wait for my relief, and I KNOW it’s coming. Until then, Blanche, Rose and Sophia, Dorothy, and I will crack up, I’ll continue my intercessory prayers, as they take the focus off of me, and know that, Lord’s willing, I’ll know joy, in the morning.

“It won’t be as long as it has been.”
-Prettyface-Mommiekins

#BeEncouraged #Joy #Peace
#BeatingFibroOnePrayerAtATime
#YoureNotAlone
#GodLovesYou
#GodIsTheUltimatePromiseKeeper #NeverLoseHope

Letters To My Father

Why Didn’t You Ask About Me?

Cryss A. Jones

9/4/2017

My story, “Questions and Time”, was published in an anthology, of the same name, which is no longer available for purchase. However, it’s available here. Reviews are welcome.

The following is a letter to my father, Christopher Columbus Jones, on the thirty-three (33) year anniversary of his death.

Dear Daddy:

…I never know where to begin. We’ve done this- well, I’ve done this every September 4th, since about 1985. Usually, I would tell you about the family, and give you world updates (trust me, you don’t want to know); tell you how I continue to screw-up my life, etc., but not this time. I’m almost fifty (50) years old, and I have lived, learned, loved, and lost. I’ve had happy moments. I’ve had hellish times. I’ve laughed heartily, loved deeply, and managed to become a bit jaded, in the process. I have finally, FULLY surrendered my life to Christ, so my perspectives are ever changing. That said, I want to share a few things, muse a bit, and ask questions I’ve not allowed myself, before now.

As I’ve grown older, it seems I have more questions, than answers. I thought you were supposed to grow in wisdom, as you got older. I guess the nature of the questions prove that I have, in fact become a little wiser. I supposed when you get near the fifty (50) year old mark, you begin to ponder greater mysteries. What have I done with my life? Have I made a positive difference in the world? Regrets? What’s next? What is my relationship with God like? How long do I have left? Momma’s gone now; two days before my birthday, nonetheless. I’m widowed, with no children, so the words legacy, and ancestry, are now more than mere concepts.

Reminisce with me, Daddy. Lemon Street. 8-8:30 p.m. Momma would get me bathed, and in my pajamas, and I would anxiously await the sight of your big Lincoln Town Car™ coming down the street, to take me for my nightly ride around the block. I must have been about 4 years old, when this blissful ritual began; at least that’s my earliest memory. Your car seemed to take up the whole block; your presence, the entire neighborhood. People always stopped and stared, when you were around. You were, to me, larger than life. Always larger than life. I had no concept of the fact that you worked three jobs, seven (7) days a week, just to be certain that I had anything I wanted, and that you probably needed to be asleep at that time. You always made time for me. How? How did you do it?

Picnics at Robert E. Lee Park (Raa-baa-lee, as I called it), after you’d gone to Corn Beef Row, and got massive deli sandwiches, and everything to go with it. The movies, when you would put Planters ™ peanuts in your Coke ®. Ice Cream floats, root beer for you, and grape for me, at Read’s ® Drug Store, on a lazy saturday afternoon. Taking me to work with you, to your day job, driving the Baltimore City Dental Bus to the elementary schools, so kids could have free dental care. First, we’d go to the small restaurant around the corner from the bus garage on Elgin Avenue, or “go-rage”, as you said in your southern accent. You’d have coffee, and, a chocolate cake donut, with milk. You always said that you liked “a little coffee in your cream and sugar”. I drink it that way, too, on the rare occasions in which I indulge.

It seemed every staff person recognized you, at your job, and always greeted you kindly, by name; Mr. Jones. They seemed to already know me, as well. You’d tell anyone who’d listen about me. Why?

Afterward, we’d make our way to the garage, and greet your fellow drivers. They knew of me, as well. Ms. Marty, and Ms. Daisy, the Bus Aides, from when you used to drive a regular school bus.

“Are you paying attention in school, young lady?”

“Make sure you’re being a good girl.”

“Your Daddy really loves his baby.”

I felt so special. But why so special to you?

You, and your best friend, Mr. Charlie Wilson, would go to your respective buses, after a bit of morning “jawing”, and prepare for the day. I watched you intently. Your ritual the same. Every detailed etched in my memory. Open the bus doors, start the engine, turn on the lights. Starched navy blue uniform straight, one pant leg tucked into your work boot, and black leather work gloves; first left, then right. You would descend from the driver’s seat, and begin taking the wooden blocks from each tire. You checked fluids, tire pressure, and gave the bus a thorough once over, before inviting me to my usual seat, where the kids would wait for their exams, and we were off.

“What school are we going to today, Daddy?” You’d answer, telling me which Dentist would be working that day, about how often you went to that particular school, and how great the hot lunch was, that was always waiting for you. No joke there. Those lunches were A-Mazing! The Bus Aides, female Teachers, and Cafeteria ladies LOVED my Daddy. I was too young to know how much, or why, though.

Every six months, I’d have my annual teeth cleaning. My eighth year stands out for me, as it was PURE HELL! During the visit, I screamed and cried out in pure agony, and you used to be so angry, and embarrassed by my behavior. The Dentist was Dr. Davis, a very mean caucasian man, who had a goatee, and looked as if he could be a villain on “Get Smart”. He used to tell me to “stop all that shuckin’ and jivin”, or “shut up all that noise”, but only when you were out of earshot. I thought he was your boss, and I didn’t want you to argue with him, and maybe lose your job, because of me, so I began to tolerate pain, in silence. I remember him telling you that I had eight (8) cavities! I thought your head was going to pop off, and steam would come out. Too many cartoons, right? You even called me Crystal, that day. I didn’t respond immediately, as it sounded so foreign coming from a man who’d only called me “Daddy’s Baby”. I knew two things in that moment: it was going to be a scarily quiet ride home, with no stop at the Sears and Roebuck on North Avenue for new doll clothes, and that you’d be gunning for my Momma. I’d seen your temper (verbal) first hand, when it came to her. Whew! Your attack was fierce, frightening, all-consuming. When you told Momma, she was angry with me, too. An argument ensued; you blaming her for letting me eat so much candy, she blaming you for the same. I went to my hiding place under the table, until I thought it was safe to exist, again. It wasn’t until I was 12 years old that a random conversation with Momma, led to the revelation that I had not been given a numbing agent, whilst the Dentist was drilling, and filling my teeth. I guess she told you, huh? The next time I saw Dr. Davis, he looked extremely nervous, and was very gentle. Go figure.

You drove for the Baltimore City Schools, during the day, ran bus trips for Harford Motor Coach on weekends, and “hacked”. I don’t remember a time when you weren’t there, and you lived clear on the other side of town. How, Daddy? How did you manage it all?

Hugo Avenue. I recognized your signature “zing-zing” of our antique doorbell every single day. I waited all day for your visits. They were solace. They were safety. They were pure love for me – for the weird kid no one liked. Most of the neighbors thought you lived with us, because you were there each day, after work. Houdini could have learned a few things from you.

I ALWAYS seemed to be asking for something. Late night trips to the house, because I had a nightmare; a trip across town, in a torrential downpour, because I’d heard a new song on the radio, and HAD to have the 45 r.p.m., THAT DAY ! ”With A Little Luck- Paul McCartney, and Wings. Just for the record, Daddy, all of that had to hear the music, had to have it, turned out to be how I became a Songwriter, Singer and Composer, with perfect pitch. It wasn’t wasted. I promise. It wasn’t wasted, was it?

Expensive jewelry, dolls, souvenirs from your bus trips. All of this outside of the new wardrobe each season; Christmas, Easter, Birthdays, Halloween, Back-to-School… Heck, you gave me my first diamond. A sterling silver necklace, with a cross, and a diamond chip in the middle. I fell in love with it, during one of our trips to the mall. You were looking at a necklace for yourself, because you always looked good, head-to-toe. Sharp as a tack, just to go around the corner. I begged and begged, with no idea that getting my necklace meant you didn’t get yours. Why didn’t you say “no”, Daddy? Why was I always asking for something? I’d make up for it later in life, when I got a good job, though. We had time.

The ice rink. The 1980 Winter Olympics was the goal. Whether it was Northwest Ice Rink, Memorial Stadium, or Baltimore Gas, and Electric, we were there. Cold weather, low on money, exhausted, you got me there. It’s one of the things you and Momma tag-teamed on. I’d fly across the ice, with beautiful abandon, while you drank stale coffee, and watched. The expensive skates, lessons, ice time. I was gonna make you proud. I bet you knew all along, I was never going to make it to the Olympics, didn’t you? I didn’t have the feet, the flexibility, or the money. Why didn’t you tell me?

I recall August of 1982, just before I began high school, you, Uncle Shep, and I went to visit your family in Virginia. I loved being with both of you, and the ride was scenic and the area unfamiliar, and exciting. We rode past vast fields of what you called “soldier beans”. You would think an inquisitive kid like me. ALWAYS full of questions, would have been frantic to know every detail of your young life – of both of your lives. Where did you play? Who were your friends? Where did you go for fun? When did your parents die? What were you afraid of, other than Squirrels ( that still tickles me, tough guy)? Where were your parents buried? Did you cry? Who taught you the things that you know about cars? Who’s your favorite Aunt, or Uncle? Did you get whippings, and for what? No. I asked NOTHING! Why? I was content just being with you. You were my deep breath. I didn’t need to know a thing. After all, I could ask those questions when I grew up and had a family of my own. You weren’t going anywhere.

Meeting your Cousin Easter was an absolute JOY. I was so shy, and so overwhelmed with the strangers about me, I was afraid to let you out of my sight. I slept on a fold out bed, in a living room. The night seemed darker than black, and there was absolute silence. To this day, it’s the best, and most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve ever had. Remember breakfast, Daddy? I’d never had fried corn, and you had to coax me to eat. You cut my breakfast meat for me, as usual (yes, I was 14 yrs. old), and I think you let me eat some pork, even though Momma never knew. I didn’t care. As long as I had you in my line of sight, or could hear your voice, your booming laughter, my world was safe. You weren’t gonna get too far. It was a wonderful trip. I still have the pictures, the memories…the, ahem, enough of that.

Here’s what I’ve learned:

1- God actually loves me more than even you did.

2 – Take nothing, and NO ONE for granted.

3 – Want vs. Need

4 – Love really IS the answer to all things, so don’t sprinkle it, pour it.

5 – I will never believe that man, on that day, in that coffin was you. You would NEVER abruptly leave me, at age 62. I waited for your return, from your trip to Boston. You were due back on Monday, Sept. 3, 1984. I spoke with you on Saturday, Sept. 2, 1984, for the last time. Did you know? You called me from your hotel room that night. In hindsight, you sounded woefully tired. I’d just come in from working an eleven (11) hour day at the shoe store, with Sharon. Her being the Manager, she would always let me work to earn cash for holidays, or back-to-school, etc. I was absolutely exhausted. I rushed you off the phone. I needed rest. Besides, we had time to talk when you got back, right? Did you bring me a souvenir? I know you did you always did. When we were hanging up, you said, “Good-bye”. How strange! You’d never said that before. I stared at the receiver, after you hung up. Huh? Well, I’ll ask you in a couple of days, when I saw you. No, I wouldn’t. I’d be too busy telling you about my first day of school, senior year, and whining because I didn’t get to go to Boston with you. There would be time for questions about your trip, your experience, your life.

There was always going to be time for questions, for revelations, for shocking details, for laughter, for tears, for the day you saw me graduate – the day you walked me down the aisle – to tell my children about your life. There was going to be time.

I’m sorry, we’re out of time.

CANCEL MY ON DEMAND

I just saw a rather life-changing sermon. A reminder, from God. Pastor Robert Morris is doing a series on Frequency: Tuning In and Hearing God.
It’s not a new concept, but I’d really gotten off track. I’d allowed the manifestation of many blessings to make me forget to devote time to the source. I’ve been feeling so out of it, of late. Can’t find my center- my peace.

In order to hear from God, AND listen, something on my end has to happen.

This sermon had four points:

1. Set an appointment.

Exodus 19:10
Exodus 19:20

God comes to a prepared place. Set a time and have a prepared place to meet God. My recliner. It’s where I was, the VERY first time I literally heard Him speak to me. Ok, I was in the kitchen, the first time, and ran, collapsing in the recliner in fear, because I knew I was in the house alone. But since then… What’s yours?
Pastor Morris asked what it would be like if he came to church unprepared. He then said some Churches/Pastors do, but they call it “letting the Holy Spirit take over.” (Ouch)

Any of you who know me well, know I have a desk calendar on my office wall (ex-large), a large daily appt book, a small calendar (on another wall), and my Google calendar. That does not include the calendars I manage for others. I have birthdays, events, holidays, anniversaries, bills, milestones, etc. I also have the Olympic events scheduled, during which time no one is to talk to me.

We make time for what we value. (YUPPER!!!!!)

Where is my time for God? Do I guard and protect that time, no matter what/who? I used to. But by bit, I answered a text, an email, a phone call, I’ll get to it later… Thanks be to God He doesn’t treat me that way! And I’ve been wondering why I’m so…off and feeling disconnected, lately. DUH. Geez.

2. Be Still and worship.

Psalm 46:10
Exodus 14:13
2 Chronicles 20:17

Boy, has God been trying to get through to me on THIS ONE!
He’s sent it through Women of Valour Ministries Andrea E. Monroe, in the form of a devotional book, I keep hearing it and seeing it everywhere. Did I stop? My body did, my mind was on the Indy 500 track. I’m so thankful to God that He loves me enough to continue to try and get my attention!!!!

3. Pray and read the Bible.
Mark 1:35
Psalm 119:147

“Where do I start, Pastor?”he said he was asked. His answer? “Inside. Read anything, Read a chapter a day, just read”.

4. Listen and Write.
Psalm 45:1
1 Chronicles 28:19
Habakkuk 2:2

Whew! I finally got something right. I started writing my prayers to God years ago. More often, after reading the posted prayers of the anointed Sherae Bell. (Can’t wait for her book of prayers…AHEM).
Writing is the manner in which I communicate best. Pastor Morris said you’ll begin writing in third person, e.g., He will bless me, to first person, e.g. I am blessed.

Hope you were able to get something from my crude notes.
Those who didn’t read this far, or just skimmed will find out another way.
Why was this life-altering?
WAIT FOR IT:
I am no longer available ON DEMAND! What does that mean?! My priorities are permanently shifted to all things eternal. God and kingdom work first. Oh, and I STILL have dreams- gifts and talents to be developed, and shared, hopefully to bless others.

Can you still reach out, if in need? ABSOLUTELY! Y’all know. Can u reach me at all hours, just because? No. Not blaming anyone. People only do what you allow. I have to adjust my behavior, too. I’m up late and often wake/disturb folks because I’m on a different schedule. We’ll respect one another.
Anyone who decides not to call/text/write(USPS)/email, or reach out after this, has misunderstood my desire to have time with God, the need to answer His call on my life, and to put my God – given gifts to use. Maybe some need an excuse for not being in touch, or have realized I’m not what I used to be, and my conversations are/will be different.
As long as God gives me breath, I will be a conduit for His people, my gifts re-dedicated daily.
I love u all, no strings attached.
#PreciousTimeWithGod
#TuningInToGod
#ValuingGod
#EvolutionInChrist
#HisPurposeOnMyLife
#DontChaseTheDreamLiveIt
#GiftsAreMeantToBeUsed4GodsGloryNotHidden
#HearListenObeyWashRinseRepeat

Why I Want to Meet Dave Chappelle

Why I want one hour with Dave Chappelle.
I often quote my second fave Philosopher, Heraclitus (Immanuel Kant #1), as having said, “All is flux. You cannot step into the same river twice.”
Turns out, not only I, but Plato misquoted this pre-Socratic Ephesian. His actual quote?
“In the same river we both step and do not step, we are and are not”.
Interpretation:
“…the world is in a constant state of change and, while one may step from the banks into the body of a river one has always known, the waters flowing over one’s feet will never be the same waters that flowed even a moment before.”

I am, indeed, evolving.

What does that have to do with Dave Chappelle? He’s become my favorite contemporary Philosopher, disguised as a Comedian. Many are; but Dave, his mask IS his masterpiece, because there’s really NO MASK (Cryss-ism). Geez I’m lucid this time of night😲. Anyhoo,

See his Netflix special
“Equanimity”
Not to be confused with the two released late last year. You’ll see what I mean, especially in the end.

#OneHourMrChappelle

Humanity Lost?

I am, and have always, had a humanistic view of the world. All humans are basically good. Circumstances, environments, learned abhorrent behaviors, cause us to shift away from our innate goodness. Fixable.

Over the last ten years, my rose-colored glasses have been stepped upon, but they’ve never been destroyed. I repair them. I keep looking for the good, even when I notice the horror.

Over the last five years, I’ve found my glasses have escaped my awareness, at times. I find them, dust them, put them on. I purposely seek the good.
Over the last three years, I’ve had to use duct tape on my rose-colored, war-weary glasses. I put them on and pray to find a snippet of goodness.

Sidebar: I began to wonder where social media, and the inundation of information factored into this negativity. Were we always this EVIL, DECEITFUL, DUPLICITOUS, FOUL, DISMISSIVE, DIVISIVE, DISHONORABLE, HORRIBLE, EVIL, HEINOUS, UNCARING, ARROGANT, BOASTFUL, EVIL, UNGODLY, WARMONGER-ISH (Yes, I made up a word. If Betsy DeVoss is education secretary, I can create words), DISENFRANCHISED, FAKE, PHONY, ANGRY?

Over the last year, I’ve found that my patience became shorter, my mood more foul than pleasant, and I kept repeating the phrase, ” Awww, come ON!” My rose-colored glasses, removed from the case where they were kept, sat gingerly atop my nose, red from crying, as my search for goodness elicits more sad tears, than happy results.

Over the last few months, I’ve lost more and more faith in the human race. Not by the day, but by the minute. Not just on a macro level, but micro, too. Shock and anger have been replaced with heavy sighs. Numbness has set in. The absolute worst is the expectation of the day.

Hey! Where the heck did these glasses come from? Huh. Must have worn them once. Back in the junk drawer with ya.

HAPPY NEW YEAR

What are your goals for the new year? Have you started your vision board?

What are the things most important to you? Family, Faith, Politics, Career, Love, Financial Stability?

Drop a note. Let me know what you’re doing, and what changes you’d like to see (personal, professional, political, policy, etc.) in 2018!

One of my goals is to unleash my creativity. No more stifling my imagination. Stay-tuned.

Reflection Time

God has been so good. He’s shown Himself to me in ways I could not have expected. Mostly because I truly surrendered to Him. He’s held me, when trembled; He’s stretched me (and still is) when I thought I wasn’t good, or smart enough; He’s humbled me, when I thought I was in control; He’s given me joy, and peace, in the midst of my grief; He’s blessed me beyond anything I deserve. He steadies me, when I falter; He’s teaching me obedience, and self-worth, without arrogance; He’s met me in His Word. He’s made me understand what our Elders meant, when they would say, “try Him for yourself”. I have. It’s glorious. It’s tough. It’s wondrous. I’m less impatient, as I realize His timing is perfect. God IS the ultimate promise keeper. I am grateful. All that I do MUST BE ORDAINED BY GOD!

I’ve been reminded, yet again this year, that everything is temporal. If there’s ANYONE I’ve hurt, disrespected, angered, ticked off, let’s get it resolved. Inbox, email, call, semaphore… I know how to hear, listen and apologize.

I look forward to what God has in store, as I desire to move, and live in His will.
That said, I pray each of you, and your families are blessed with good health (across all life domains), and with prosperity, in the new year.
#2018 #GRATEFUL #GODLEDSPIRITDRIVEN

“Letters To My Father”

Well, I’m officially a published Author! I wrote a chapter in an anthology called, “Letters To My Father “.

Cathartic. Necessary. Exciting!!

It’s a wonderful start to my career as a published Author.

I’ll still publish the works of others, through Collective Press, but I’ve stepped into Authorship, and the water’s just fine.

The anthology is on Amazon, but I hope you’ll order direct from me, so I can your personally autograph your copy (just $20.)

http://www.paypal.me/CMGMT

It’s also formatted for Amazon Kindle.

I would appreciate reviews. Post them here.

Next up, “The Unlikely CEO “. Stay-tuned for the promo video.

Thank you for your support along this new leg of my journey.

How Do I Survive?

I am baffled. I acknowledge not being a Rhodes Scholar, but I attended Baltimore City College (third oldest high school in the nation, international renowned). Nonetheless, I’m confused as to how this “President”, and cabinet (might as well be kitchen cabinets) are LITERALLY breaking long established laws, with NO consequences.

One of the first things I remember learning about government, is that Congress exists for the purpose of “checks and balances”. They have refused to do their job, since Obama was President, and that went unchecked.

Perhaps someone can enlighten me. Granted, in any class I’ve ever had at 10 a.m, I was CERTAIN to be asleep (don’t judge me, I’m nocturnal), but I MUST have learned enough to know the function of the three branches of government. Heck, even SchoolHouse Rock taught us that much. These acts, or lack thereof, perpetrated by the last two administrations, Congress refusing EVERYTHING President Obama sent before them, looking the other way, as “Voldermort” sells our country to the scariest bidder, appear to be not only immoral, just plain stupid, and let’s not forget EXTREMELY DANGEROUS, but ILLEGAL. This goes back to “tricky” Dick Chaney, his bestie, Donald “Rummy” Rumsfeld, George W. Bush, and 9/11, and the “WMD’s”/ Iraq War; maybe even further.

Sidebar (but not really):Dick Chaney shot a man, during a hunting trip. The man apologized to him. For what? Being so shootable? What were you hunting, Mr. Chaney? What did he say/know?

How is this happening with NO repercussions? No Framers coming back, like Jacob Marley, and haunting the CRAP out of these folks. I’d say, I got Carpal Tunnel Syndrome writing the Constitution and Declaration of Independence, (not to mention having to dip my pen in ink every five seconds) and this is what you do?

Seriously, help me understand. My brilliant folks, far and near. Please don’t just read, talk to me. I need to understand how this COUP, ahem, blatant travesty is being allowed, and no one saw it coming, or is trying to stop it. Could we stop it?

Police shooting/ killing/ assaulting African – African men, women, ave children, in public view, on video, and receiving no more than a paid vacation? Their reason being, “I feared for my life. ”

What of the Police Officers who are actually trying to keep our neighborhoods and communities safe, who are kind and empathetic, who are well – trained in de-escalation, and crisis management, but STILL want to be able to go home to their families? They now HAVE to fear for their lives, because of their colleagues who devalue the lives of certain minority groups, and make assumptions, and react, with fatal results. Criminals who are better armed than Law Enforcement, and no one knows how the weapons are getting to our minority neighborhoods. Kinda like the drugs, huh?

Of course, after this blog, I may (unlike you know who) be kicked off of social media/ internet.

Signed,

Educated, but Baffled