The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 590 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 10 trips to carry that many people.
My time lately in Georgia has exposed me to being around children quite frequently. Oftentimes, I find myself watching friends and family members with children go about their day. In these observations I have discovered that it takes a wealth of patience and understanding in child rearing. See, parents at all times have to be willing to extend the grace necessary to help guide children through development. Children make mistakes all the time and parents have to find unique and creative ways to keep the child on the right track without being shortsighted.
About a week ago, I had a rough night of work and I got in my flesh on my way home. A driver cut me off while entering the highway and I politely tooted my horn once I passed the person five minutes later (do pray). Moments later a trucker almost merged onto my lane (fear of death) and my response was to shout praises (we know better) and lay on my horn. By the time I arrived home, I felt a sting as I put my hand on the door knob. I knew my responses were ignorant and impulsive. I knew I could have responded better or sat on my emotions but chose not to do so. At the door, I heard God say “Do better next time. You are tired and your feet ache. You took your discomfort out on others but you will do better next time, and the time after.”
What an amazing God. See our heavenly father acknowledges our humanness and understands we are not going to get it right every time. Yet, he finds unique ways of steering us while giving us the grace to try again. The next day, I had a chuckle with my mom about the very same topic. I told her how all the child rearing references reminded me of God’s grace. I also realized, those folks who offended me on the way home were just as human as I was. I actually realized, in their shoes, I would have been looking for grace for being in the wrong. I’ve cut someone off before mistakenly or arrogantly. I have also accidentally merged into another’s lane by mistake. Sometimes I’ve been provided grace and other times I was welcomed by the lullaby of a horn.
Ultimately, I am most thankful that I have a choice and that God’s grace is sufficient. He truly understands our shortcomings, does not excuse them, but gives us grace to try again.
Eat, Love, Pray is one of the most liberating movies I’ve watched in the past ten years. A great deal of the movie speaks to my inner soul which longs to be free of modern restraint and limitations. If you never seen the movie, essentially the main character discovers her constant busyness and standard quo lifestyle has worn its welcome. She embarks on global travels in the hopes of rediscovering what’s lost.
I’ve mentioned indirectly in a few of my post that I embarked on a similar journey this past summer. August 1, 2014, I left behind my life in South Carolina and returned to Georgia. I have aging parents and my support system here. I also needed a break from what I deemed as the ‘rat race.’ I adored the people and relationships made in Carolina. I had a great time there and even began a great deal of healing in my personal/spiritual life. However, I could instinctively detect that my assignment there had reached a close. The grace to remain in that current rhythm was no longer visible. So, I packed up and returned to Georgia with no plan.
Enter my eat, love, pray lifestyle. Over the past four months I have literally traveled throughout Georgia bunking with loved ones to be closer to new possibilities. Amidst those travels, I’ve had the opportunity to enjoy the sunlight hours, return back to my love of writing, and partake of entertainment that I never had time for previously. I even noticed that my heart-strings have re-emerged and I find beauty in things that I never noticed before.
However, this lifestyle isn’t for the faint of heart. Truthfully, there are an influx of times where I pray and believe for provisions more than I plan for them. My faith muscle has been tested and pumped up during these four months. I have seen best plans be trumped by the unexpected. These moments taught me the value of trusting the Lord with all that I have. I no longer put stock into my plans. I face each day expecting the best and seeking favor in all that I do. I also understand that when bad or the unexpected occurs, there’s a place for that as well.
I would not trade my current experience for anything in the world. I have learned how to open myself up to others and actually look forward to new opportunities as they arise. These changes did not occur without refinement but it’s a lifestyle that inches me closer to the freedom that I long.
“Ever more people today have the means to live, but no meaning to live for.” – Viktor Frankl
One aspect of suicidal desire comes from the feeling of loneliness and isolation resulting from a lack communal belonging. Here I demonstrate how the concept of ‘the sacred’ helps us understand communal belonging, particularly in relation to the meaning of service. I apply this concept to veterans in transition to civilian life, showing how the loss of meaning and purpose can result from losing a tight-knit community centered on the sacred ideal of service.
In the book Suicide, Durkheim describes the function of the ‘sacred’ as an ideal that binds individuals together into moral communities; he states, “it’s object is to raise man above himself and to make him lead a life superior to that which he would lead, if he followed only his own individual whims.”
Moral communities provide individuals with…
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And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions Acts 2:17 KJV (blueletterbible.org)
Sometimes as adults we lose our tenacity to dream. Life steps in the way and routine becomes second nature. Mother nature takes her course and we begin to second guess the passions that kept our fires ignited. Before you know it, we find our childhood and adult dreams stashed away in the very boxes set aside for spring cleaning or the weekend garage sale.
Just recently, I had several dreams re-ignited at once. I had given up on my dream of remaining in Georgia and building a consulting brand. One thing remained the same, I never stopped writing/researching. I kept encouraging the dreams of others while taking the random opportunities that emerged as they surfaced. These random opportunities are the foundation for my future businesses and have been a pleasurable stretch or muscle spurt (mentally).
I received an email on Monday, that began a positive ripple of great connections set in motion. I imagine a year from now, I’ll have some grand stories/experiences to share-all from this tiny drop in time. My point is simple. Wait for it. It’s normal to forget or throw in the towel when things make very little since. However, the Bible reminds us it takes childlike faith.
Believe that your dreams the opportunity and space to come true. Keep the fire ignited.
Keep building until the dream is complete.
Priortizing your relationships
We can’t be so focused on changing the world, that we neglect intimate relationship with our Father. If our vertical relationship isn’t growing and cultivating, then we will have nothing to offer in our horizontal relationships.
Growing up in Columbus, Ga during the late 90s had its benefits. We used to have radio programming after 9 or 10pm called “the Love zone.” Pretty much anyone had the opportunity to call in and give a love dedication. As a youngster, I listened in to get my laugh on. You would hear mature adults to the prepubescent boys/girls calling into the radio stations, laying it all on the line just to make good with their loves. Of course these love ‘shout outs’ were followed or connected with the great R&B songs of the day and a few flashback oldies.
Not too many public radio stations do that any more. Kinda wish they did. Nevertheless, I’m here today to give my Holiday Love Dedication to all. One of the greatest gifts my Father in Heaven has ever given me is an ear for music. I love music and it flows all through my blood and past my bones. If I cannot give words, a song always waits in the wings to be shared.
Last night, before traveling to my second seasonal gig, I had the opportunity to watch a movie I’ve been avoiding: The Best Man Holiday. I absolutely love the movie. I saw it on opening weekend upon its release last year. Watching it again revived memories and realities of love. Love really can heal broken hearts and wounded spirits. It can reconcile relationships that need mending. It can provide hope for those barely hanging on. I guess you can say that somewhere in my spirit I had been avoiding that message.
Before the movie wrapped, there was a scene in which Ne-Yo’s rendition of “I Want to Come Home for Christmas” played. That song sent shivers through my soul. It reached back to my childhood years in Columbus and tapped the Marvin Gaye original. Marvin’s version tells the story of a Vietnam Vet longing for Christmas, home at peace with his loved ones. The song begs of empathy for peace amidst war.
I want to send Marvin’s song out to all who may be facing any forms of war: depression, loneliness, financial difficulty, fighting in combat or serving abroad, spirit of fear, low self-worth, and even a broken heart. We can never reach our healing without a glimmer of hope. So, it is my prayer that this song if for only a moment will bring a balm of healing in the hurt parts of your soul and open the door of hope for better days ahead.
With All of My Love,
Retta
As I bee-bop around during this busy season, life reminds me frequently that ‘growth is no longer an option.’ One of my favorite friends uses that as her favorite reference and hashtag but honestly it’s my spiritual truth. I look around and realize that when the going gets tough, I have to stay the course. That’s growth. My younger (2-3 years ago) self, would find the best escape route and take it. However, when you make your mind up and chart your course, growth is no longer an option.
I make plenty of mistakes and have terrible moments (not terrible days). Just last night I was reflecting with a colleague around 6pmish about how titles and labels no longer carry the apple of my eye. Now, it’s the freedom to choose and not being affiliated with life’s rat race that matters to me. Hours later, I’m leaving a seasonal gig with tears in my eyes, limping through the parking lot with my upper and lower back in tension knots. I heaved in the freezing air with my lip quivering, vowing to never return again. I arrived home and asked God (I actually demonstrated to him what I needed) to rub out the pain in my back as I slept.
I arose tenderly later in the day to realize that God had provided me the refill of strength to stand back up on once achy toes and back. My body is still tender (my play niece made me pick her up) and my psyche is shot. Fortunately, my spiritual eye realizes that I’m in a season of stretch marks. God is allowing me to reap the benefits of stretching my faith and staying the distance. I am learning a lot about myself and those around me.
No longer do I get to pout and throw my hands up when things go awry. No longer do I get to make poor decisions without having to live through them. No longer do I get to throw pity parties and expect an audience. What I get to do is raise my shirt up in pride and show off all my bold and squiggly spiritual stretch marks. It requires discipline, grit, and determination. But a made up mind will never shutter from the manifestation of spiritual growth!
Simply put, no one can excuse fear.
I’m referencing the core of racism, sexism, fascism, classism, and all the little isms lurking around our American fabric. This is a universal ill but my country is slowly eating itself in shame by serving every dish with a side of fear. The recent verdicts just reflect our ability to create fantasies of what we want to see versus the truth. It’s the same reason why people are addicted to sex, lying, food, gambling, and murder.
Killing unarmed youth and Blacks has replaced the lynchings of yesteryear. We fret at the mention of increased oversight yet we have no answers for when those sworn to protect end up killing the unarmed.
We’re too comfortable. Everyone has grown apathetic and immune to the protests, the loss of lives, and the weeping mothers left behind. We shrug it off and go back into our fear laden worlds. Look at every riot that ever erupted in our country and you’ll be able to tie it back to fear.
Fear allows us as individuals to lose sight of a human face. Have you ever walked into a mall, attended a concert, or even pumped gas and at some point realized you couldn’t make out any of the faces you saw? Well, that’s the same thing that happens when three to four officers are apprehending a man while in a chokehold. At that moment, procedure was first (albeit illegal) while the cries of a human being were muted.
I can actually understand how it happens. It’s the same way we can become so fixated in a matter (cell phone app, people watching,etc) that we miss what is right in front of us. Typically, someone will profusely beg for our attention until we snap out of the trance of occupation and back into reality.
Unfortunately, in New York there was no snap back moment. The fear laced approach to addressing illegal solicitation took priority over simply verifying a man’s story. There was no middle ground, just action. There was no reasoning, just zealousness. No weapons or mal intent was displayed from the apprehended father.
Sadly, several Officers that day sided with procedure over instinct. Instinct can hear or motion for us to slow down in our decision-making because there are other details to consider. No, on that day knowledge won. Knowledge, is the head sense that puts facts, figures, and procedure over a life or cry for air. On that day, fear of not following protocol (albeit illegal) took precedence as well as taking a father from his children and wife.
Now, we that remain behind have an obligation. Stop making excuses. Stop excusing your actions by blaming others. Stop excusing your apathy and fear based logic without exposure to difference. If you don’t know or understand privilege, learn. If you cannot understand why people are protesting, ask (not your buddies who make racist jokes on twitter but smile and hug everyone at the water cooler). Get out of your comfort zone and actively engage to rebuild connections. It’s okay if you are racist, a bigot, (no matter your ethnicity or race) or whatever label you subscribe. There’s an app for that. It’s called no more excuses.
We cannot move forward as a community, state, or nation until these weak, fear laced excuses for inclusion and respect stop.
enoughfortodaysjourney 