Think on These Things...

A quotation from my latest read, Anonymous: Jesus' Hidden Years and Yours by Alicia Britt Chloe...

Life does not sleep—though in winter she retracts all advertisement. And when she does so, she is conserving and preparing for the future. And so it is with us. Seasonally, we too are stripped of visible fruit. Our giftings are hidden; our abilities are underestimated. When previous successes fade and current efforts falter, we can easily mistake our fruitlessness for failure. But such is the rhythm of spiritual life: new growth, fruitfulness, transition, rest . . . new growth, fruitfulness, transition, rest. Abundance may make us feel more productive, but perhaps emptiness has greater power to strengthen our souls.

- Posted using BlogPress on the fiercest device ever...the iPad!!!

Breaking News:Sporadic Writing Explained

Happy New Year to all!

(hey mom...I know you've been waiting)

First, let me explain, as best I can, my sporadic writing. Here is the back story: Some time ago I was in the presence of a fairly new bride (less than a year in the game) who had just had an argument with her husband. Her husband was no where around, but she was speaking with several others about the beef that they had. I remained silent, but in that moment I remember thinking, "Why isn't she talking with her man about this?" I vowed that once I was married, that the exchanges between my husband and I, for better or for worse, would remain between us. Let's say hubby and I have an argument about (fill in the blank) and we both get angry. Once my anger has faded and I have forgiven him for (fill in the blank), I would hate for my family/friends/blog readers/random lady at grocery store to look at him sideways. It is my responsibility to protect his credibility, and him mine. In fact, after he caught up on my blog yesterday we had this very conversation. We even chuckled about something I would NOT write on the blog.

I'm not saying it is going to be like this forever, but as a new bride who's vocation requires a good measure of confidentiality, I'm not quite sure what to write about. I could write about my new neighborhood, but there isn't much happening here. I could write about my new (beautiful) chocolate brown and seafoam curtains, but that's about all I could say about them. I could write about my "wedding fifteen" that I gained, but since I'm down three and this weight will soon be history, there's no story here. Oh, oh, oh, I know...I'll write about my new iPad!

Musings on Romans 8:28 and Ironing Shirts...

In the eighth chapter of his letter to the Roman church, the Apostle Paul wrote these words, "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose."

Notice what he said:

Not one thing, but ALL things;

Not some things, but ALL things;

Not most things, but ALL things;

Not nothing (no thing), but ALL things...

There are times when this just doesn't feel true. But it is amazing how time and the Spirit of God has a way of making me realize the power and truth in this statement. Let me give you just one example.

When I was growing up, around my middle and high school years, I was responsible for ironing my father's work shirts. Ironing dad's shirts really annoyed me. I was good at it, but it was a chore that I absolutely despised. Like any chore, I enjoyed it when I first started doing it, but when mom would call me home from a friend's house or my sister's house or would wake me up to iron his shirts, well you can imagine what happened. Add to this, EVERYONE made fun of me because of it. It was, and still is, the biggest joke among my sister's friends. And I hated it.

For the most part, I was good at it. But the fact that I despised the chore coupled with teenage girl rebellion and laziness led to many a burned shirt. (I did not rebel by cutting school or hanging with the wrong crowd, I dragged my feet in my chores.) Anyway, my dad's good shirts were ruined because I did not want to do the task. I did not understand why I had to do it. I hated the interruptions of my life because I had to iron his shirts. I hated the monotony of ironing his shirts: right sleeve, flip, left sleeve, flip, back panel, flip, right front, lift, inside right, slide over, left front, lift, inside left, lift shirt, collar. Did I say I hated it?

But today, I am reminded of the words of the Apostle Paul, "And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose."

But how could an annoying and monotonous chore work for my good?

In the mornings, as hubby is getting ready for work, I choose his shirt for the day and head into the laundry room to press it. The first time I pressed one of his shirts, I was grateful that I knew how to iron a shirt. (Thanks mom!) Hubby is crisp and sharp when he leaves the house. But more than hubby looking good, I now understand the time not as a monotonous chore, but rather as an intentional time of prayer. I pray for my husband's commute, his day at work, his health, his strength, and all things concerning his life. As I flip and press, slide over and press, lift and press I pray for God to bless him and give him peace. Instead of complaining, I pray. Instead of being annoyed, I am overjoyed for the opportunity to go before God on my husband's behalf.

And so, in this small thing and in all things, whether I understand or not, whether in a storm or in not, I now recognize that ALL things really do work together for good for those who love God and are called according to His purposes.

Amen and so be it.

image taken from http://www.garmentcare.info/ironing_wrinkles/how_to_iron_a_shirt_like_a_pro.html

Think on These Things...

When I dare to be powerful—

to use my strength in the service of my vision,

then it becomes less and less important

whether I am afraid.

Audre Lorde

Unheard Of...

Hubby and I went gym shopping on Friday. Not gym clothes shopping, but gym shopping. We traveled around our area to five different health clubs in search of the one. I was tired of ducking and dodging cars and deer on my walks in the neighborhood. It was getting a bit dangerous!

I'll spare you the details of our trip. (We did settle on a gym with a pool and classes and racquetball courts!!!) Let's just say, our day was kind of like this Loews commercial:

Parking Space Musings...

So, y'all know that I have been working as the Assistant to the Pastor at the Bethesda Baptist Church of New Rochelle four months now. (Time flies!) Well, said position comes with my very own reserved parking space. A parking space. For me. What?!?!?!

At first I was reluctant to pull into the space, like someone was going to come to my car and tell me to move. I wasn't yet ordained and I felt like I hadn't earned the space (as if anyone ever does). Every time I pulled up, I felt like a little girl playing dress up in her momma's heels.

But sometime over the summer, in between services when the church parking lot is poppin', I came to be grateful for the space. It is a good feeling to pull up to the church and know that you know that you know that you have a parking space.

And, if I may tell the truth for a moment, when I pulled into the lot for Wednesday night Bible study, I almost lost my mind when someone was in the spot. Gasp! How dare they? You know good and well that you ain't the Assistant to the Pastor, so why is your beautiful, shiny, luxury car in my space? In an instant, God reminded me that the work I do for Him is not about titles or amenities, but about spreading the good news of Jesus Christ.

But still, I have to admit that more than feelings of inadequacy, ease, and entitlement, the parking space invokes deep laughter within me. Sometimes I crack myself up! No matter how I felt otherwise, somewhere deep down inside, every time (yes, every single time) I pull into the church parking lot, ease into my space, hop out my car, and lock the door, I feel like I am in an episode of Amen. I can hear, "Turn on the Lights from Heaven Lord, Shine on me..." in the background. I can see Sherman Helmsley jumping rope and praising God that he didn't break his hip! Won't you laugh with me...

Musings on Love and Accessories.

One of my professors from Howard sent me a message on Facebook recently. He has known me for a long time and seen me through much as I struggled with my identity as an African-American woman living in America. He lived the lows with me and now recognizes the high that I am currently living. He said, "I am glad that you have grown to love yourself so much that it is contagious." What he didn't know from me telling him, but could intuit from seeing my photos (his work is taking and analyzing of photographs), was that I had fallen madly in love with myself (and that I was also madly in love with God). A wonderful change had taken place on the inside that was evident on the outside. It manifested itself in the smallest of things:wearing make-up to 9am classes because I wanted to, keeping my hair done because I like the way it looks when it is done, working out and shedding a few pounds to get healthy, loving my body and being truly content in a size 14, and graduating summa cool nerdy because this is who I am. I believe that part of the reason my hubby fell for me (and could love me authentically) was because I had fallen for me and I was finally living the lyrics of Mary J. Blige's song, "Take me as I am, or have nothing at all..."

Another Facebook friend of mine, upon seeing one of my wedding photos, expressed, "Love is the best accessory." While I think that love is more than an accessory, I will admit that love looks good on me. But the truth is love, real love, looks good on everyone...

Her comment made me think about other accessories that look good on me. I can recall a few years ago after buying my first (of many) Nars All-in-One Bronzer Stick (in Palm Beach), I was glowing. People noticed it and I was convinced that the Holy Spirit had blessed my make-up. All jokes aside, there are some things that I absolutely love. I am not going to be dramatic and say I can't live without them (because I can), but they do make me look and feel good. My latest fall must-haves are...

Johnson's Baby Oil Gel (Shea Butter)

I have been spending a good amount of time in the sun; My aunt calls me a fudgesicle! To keep my glow glowing, I have been using John's Baby Oil Gel in Shea Butter. It is light and makes my skin look and feel amazing (perhaps like a baby's bottom, lol). I also like it because it lasts. I have used other gels, namely Vaseline Intensive Care, but this one looks good, feels good, and lasts a long time.

Essie Nail Polish in Chinchilly

I have been trying to keep my nails done recently. For one, I love the way it feels when someone massages my hands. Secondly, I love the way my hands look when they are manicured. Lastly, with this beautiful ring on my finger, I'd hate to make it look bad with ragged cuticles and chipped polish. And so, I have made it a practice to get regular manicures. The artist in me wants to wear funky blues and greens and oranges on my nails. The preacher in me knows that people are paying attention to the details and will form opinions based on minor things. The woman in me is interested in finding my place, my niche, my thing. So, in my most recent visit to the salon, upon seeing Essie's Chinchilly, it was as if God made a color to satisfy the artist, preacher woman that I am. Chincilly is a beautiful grey, with a faint purple undertone. It is at once sophisticated and fun! It is neutral without being boring. It is me all the way! And you know what? After seeing it on my hands (and feet) for the first time I did something I've never done before. I purchased a bottle so that I would always be guaranteed to have my Chinchilly!

Bobbi Brown Cosmetics Black Velvet Collection

Last week, during a leisurely walk through Lord and Taylor (ha!) a friend and I were taken aback by the beautiful new make-up colors by Bobbi Brown. As we marveled, a make-up artist (and sales associate) walked over and began to engage us in casual conversation. And then she did it. She asked if I wanted to try the shadow that I was drooling over. She's good, I thought. I couldn't resist, so in a matter of seconds I was sitting in the chair with Laurie making me over. Of course, she didn't stop at my eyes. Let's see how it looks with the lipstick you like. Before I knew it, I was at the checkout counter purchasing Blackberry eyeshadow, Black Kohl Eye Liner (that slides on like buttah), and Black Garnet lipstick. I must admit, I don't regret that leisurely stroll at all. The make-up is perfect for day and night and complements my skin wonderfully.

All that is to say, find what works for you and wear it well. Most of all, clothe yourself in love...I guarantee it will look good on you!

New Appreciations...

My new home is about 53 miles away from my parents home, and 56 miles away from my work at the Bethesda Baptist Church. Needless to say, I am spending a lot more time in my car than I ever have. Up until this point, my jobs and schools have always been within 20 miles of my home. Well, with this kind of commute, I have new appreciation for prayers for traveling mercies, cruise control; EZ Pass and good music. This combination makes the journey easier on long nights (like the night I was so tired I completely missed my exit).

Solid As A Rock...

As I as driving home this afternoon, listening to Marley Marl play old school R&B on 98.7 Kiss FM, I felt old. Really old. I didn't feel old because I could sing along with every word of every song he was playing, thereby showing my age. No, I felt old when the following though crossed my mind: They sure don't make music like they used to...

I mean really. That is on par with attributing every problem that every person has to drugs. You know what I'm talking about... Whether someone is 3 months behind on rent, isn't taking care of their child, got fired from yet another job, or lost 20 pounds rapidly, an older (and usually wiser) person will ask, "Is he (or she) on drugs?" Some don't even ask. They just declare, "That girl (or boy) must be on something." Well, I find myself doing that. In fact I did it earlier this week. (Don't laugh, you know you do it too!)

Back to the matter at hand. I must admit, I don't trust Trey Songz like I trust Teddy Pendergrass. I don't think Beyonce and Jay-Z can say anything worth holding a candle to Ashford and Simpson. Don't get me wrong. There are some new folks doing it right now. (Case in point, Jeanelle Monet. Girl can sing and dance and probably could have kept up with James Brown in his heyday.) But for the most part, music today isn't saying too much. At least nothing worth listening to.

Well, in honor of my age, and in celebration of a song that really inspired this newlywed on her ride home, pump up the volume and press play. Now they were saying something....

Untitled (inspired by the Mister Softee Truck)

So, today I feel incredibly blessed to be who I am, where I am, when I am...

I spent the morning preparing study materials for my ordination exam. I recorded myself reading the materials I need to memorize, put it on my iPod, and now have study aids for my on and a half hour commute through Dirty (really, Stinky) Jersey. Bless God for technology...

I spent the afternoon taking care of business with the hubby—name changes and such. It is official...I am a Mrs.! (I think it is fun when random people at the DMV congratulate you and give words of blessing and encouragement!)

I spent the early part of the evening at the pool—we have a pool in our complex! I took in some necessary sun, and when the heat was too much, I splashed around (and swam a few laps) in the pool. I felt like I was somewhere else (as in not New Jersey). I was so relaxed that the ideas for my next sermon were speaking to me; I honored them by writing them down.

Around 6:15, when the Marco Polo game was overbearing, I packed up my things and headed home. As I walked through our complex, I heard a familiar song. My heart began to dance in my chest. There is something about the Mister Softee song that gets me every time. I must have been smiling—the biggest, widest smile ever—because the driver of the truck waved at me when he drove past me.

In a moment, I was whisked back to my days as a child at the Lincoln Elementary School in Mount Vernon, New York. I could feel the anticipation that rushed over me at 3:05 as we—my classmates and I—waited to be dismissed from school. I could feel my legs ready to take off towards the door, through the playground, straight to the truck. I could see Tahiyah and Neville and David and Ingrid standing at the truck waving dollars, clamoring to be next in line. I could taste the vanilla cone with rainbow sprinkles and I could see a pinkish bluish liquid dripping down my arm when I couldn't eat the ice-cream as fast as it was melting. And I didn't have to imagine it, I heard the sound...

In a moment, I was also reminded of our last Spencer Family Reunion in 2007. It was the day when the Mister Softee Truck stopped by our family reunion and we feasted on ice-cream. It was the day when my Uncle Freddie—the other Mister Softee—had a moment of nostalgia and joy that resulted in the "ugly cry" that my mother's side of the family is known for. It was also our last family gathering where everyone was together—including Aunt Joan.

Tomorrow we will celebrate Aunt Joan's Homegoing. She has been the matriarch of our family since my grandmother passed in 1987. She was also a fighter. Whereas pancreatic cancer takes many people down in a matter of months, she survived for years without ever taking radiation or chemo. While I wouldn't advise that route for others, she certainly did it her way. Truth be told, she did it her way until the end. In mid-June she checked herself into hospice care. She had made peace with her Savior, peace with her life, and peace with her death.

So, here is to beautiful endings and new beginnings...

'Twas the Night Before My Final Day of Classes in Seminary...

and I cannot believe I made it this far...

and I know that I've only come this far by faith...

and I am basking in the wonderfulness that is my life...

and I am grateful to God for all of this wonderfulness...

and I have three assignments between me and graduation...

and I must stop blogging so I can go finish one of the three (final sermon due tomorrow)...

but I must first say that I know that I know that I know that I am a preacher...

and I also know that I am not yet the preaching woman that I will become...

but I am grateful for the preaching woman that I have blossomed into...

and I've cried more tears in the last few days than I did in my first semester at Drew...

and these are tears of joy and hope rather than tears of frustration, despair, and loneliness...

because I know that I haven't walked this journey alone...

Because I haven't walked this journey alone, I must give God thanks for the cloud of witnesses that have been by my side—whether present or in spirit—as I have walked this walk. I don't want to name any for fear of forgetting just one. I am grateful for those who have sustained me, prayed with me, studied with me, hugged me, cried with me, listened to me, taught me, mentored me, challenged me, shared meals with me, walked with me, talked with me, sat with me, shopped with me, and preached with me. I am grateful for those who have conspired with me, aspired with me, and inspired me. I am grateful for those women and men who have paved the way for me. I am grateful even for those who will come after me.

'Twas the night before my final day of classes in Seminary and I am grateful!

In progress...

I am still here...I promise. I'm just trying to make it to tomorrow (my senior sermon & arts internship presentation).

I've been slack in reporting in since my hiatus. I've reached my weight loss goals, which this time around has become less about a number and more about a feeling. I love my body--my grown woman curvy body--which sustains me and carries me and is able to run with ease. I feel comfortable, for real, with who I am. My boyfriend *giggle* calls me a beautiful nerd. Yep, that's about right. (I call him a nerd lover.) I have made art, good art with by boy Jameel, over the last few weeks (and even entered a campus-wide arts contest in which we were chosen as finalists). I am embodying my preacher self and it shows. What I did not understand three years ago is starting to make some sense. Ahhhh, revelation. With 26 days until graduation, all is well with my soul. I feel good. In some ways I feel like I'm glowing.

To prove that I haven't fallen off the face of the earth, here is a glimpse of my work. It is still in progress. My guiding question is, "what would it mean to consider human life, in general, and African-American female life, in particular, sacred text?" Notice the halos... I have been inspired by the form of the illuminated manuscript--an ancient tradition of making texts come alive.

The first image is a photograph of my mother, my sister, and me at my uncles wedding (circa 1977). The second image is a drawing that I've rendered of that image. I still have to add color and other details.

Once the work is done, presentation over, and body restored (aka I take a series of good naps) then I will post the entire body of work along with the artist statement.

Fatal Attraction

In the Fall of 1990 C. Alma and I joined under the name Fatal Attraction and ripped it at the RCDS Talent Show. We were caramel and mocha ladies, on stage, with high ponytails, cream-colored Gap hoodies, and acid washed jeans. (I wish I could put my hands on a photo from that night.)We danced to Father MC's "I'll Do 4 U" and we were tight!

Well, in honor of our twenty year friendship and just hours before I head to North Kak to visit her, I am posting the video to the song that helped to take our friendship to the next level!

PS. Peep Mary J. Blige singing the hook. How proud are we of her for her transformation? You can't tell me my God ain't real!

Some Women Have a Thing for Shoes pt. 2...

The title of this post is slightly deceiving. For context, click here.

I have been single for almost three years, but I have to admit that I don't always sleep alone. Lest you think Minister Donna Olivia has been sleeping around, rest assured. The only thing getting any play from me these days are my books...

I don't just sleep with my books. I am a tactile person, so naturally, I have a very sensual relationship with my books. I like to touch them, hold them, trace my fingers gently across the pages. When we aren't hearing each other, sometimes I place the open book on my head to see if I can hear it more clearly. When we really aren't getting along, I put it on the desk and give it the silent treatment. I take my books out to eat. I take them for quiet time in the park. I take them to the beach. I cannot say it enough, I love my books...

That said, I'm having a bit of an internal dialogue—okay, fight—about whether this digital girl can handle the latest electronic book readers like Kindle and Nook. As a Mac lover since Mr. Bartels computer class in the summer after seventh grade, I am super excited about Apple's iPad (though I'll be more excited when the second generation, with some kinks worked out, hits stores). I mean, don't get me wrong, I love the information I get from books—the scholarly depths I've plunged into, the creative hills I've climbed—but part of the appeal of the book is also being with it and holding it. Can I trace my fingers across an iPad? Can I sleep with an iPad? Do I even want to?

There is more to it...I love writing in the margins of my books, especially commenting on margin notes when I get used books. I love discovering and rediscovering some wisdom I had the first time I read a book as evidenced in my scribbles and underlines and highlights. I love the weight of books, the success that one feels with each turn of the page, the ability to read the conclusion to make sure you understand the middle, dog earring pages...you get the picture.

But there is the convenience of it all. And there is the issue of money I'll be saving on future visits to the chiropractor from not lugging around a sack of books. But still, I don't know. I mean, I still haven't joined the Blackberry/Palm/Treo craze. Every July I go to Staples and buy a pretty date book where I write down, in pencil, all of my appointments, events, and assignments. A scrolling through a virtual bookshelf doesn't appeal to me as much as walking up to the book cases in my room and fingering across book spines until I've found what I needed.

I don't know. But this I am sure of...if I don't get the iPad, I can always buy some new shoes!

Some Women Have a Thing for Shoes...

Yesterday, as I was doing something in my room, I looked around and started thinking about the fact that in the next couple of months I would have to pack up. And then it dawned on me. I probably have close to 200 more books in my library than I had when I started at Drew. I came here with quite a collection to begin with.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...I blame my parents. Let me rephrase that, I thank my parents. I have always had books in my life. We kept the latest dictionary and encyclopedia in hour home. There were volumes on science and sports and child development. I had my own Value Tales series and Disney Encyclopedia. My favorites were the stories of Harriet Tubman, Ralph Bunche, and Marie Curie.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...Last week, I finished the office makeover of preaching professor par excellence Rev. Dr. Gary V. Simpson. Part of making over his office included organizing his bookshelf. Well, he was so pleased when he saw his office for the first time that he gave me every book on his shelf that he had duplicates of. There were books by Teresa Fry Brown, Samuel Proctor, Ronald Allen, Walter Brueggemann, and Henry Mitchell. I could hardly contain my excitement!

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...Why so many books? Well, you never know when you are going to need them. I have used books from my undergraduate studies in papers for my work here at Drew. All of my art books from Howard have been used repeatedly, both by me and by classmates who needed to support their ideas with visual work. Then there are books that I bought either because I liked the title or the author, that I never got around to reading, that I've been able to pick up, read, and use to support my work. There are books that I've read over and over and over again like Ntozake Shange's Lilliane and Carlyle Fielding Stewart's Black Spirituality & Black Consciousness: Soul Force, Culture and Freedom in the African-American Experience. Then there are books that make me proud: my bell hooks and Howard Thurman collections. There are books I want to go back to when I finish at Drew: Sisters in the Wilderness by Delores Williams and Creative Exchange by Victor Anderson.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...My thing for books is so deep that, in the midst of hundreds of books, I know when one is missing. A few weeks ago I was in a dry and weary land and needed to reread Renita Weems' Listening For God: A Ministers Journey Through Silence And Doubt and I couldn't find it. I searched and searched and didn't give up. In the midst of my relentless search, I was reminded of the parables of Jesus about the lost coin and lost sheep that are recorded in the Gospel of Luke. Just like God doesn't stop searching for us when we go astray, I did not stop searching for the book. Thanks be to God my roommate had it.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...I am also reminded of the time when I stumbled upon books in the hallway in Seminary Hall (during my first year) and the books in the laundry room (during my second year). They were books that someone had (gasp) thrown away. They were books that I needed for class. On Tuesday, March 4th, 2008 in a blog entitled "Must've Been an Angel or Two", I wrote:

In the midst of working on my World Religions midterm paper, I needed a break. I moved my laptop from my lap, asked a classmate to watch my stuff and preceded to walk towards the vending machine. I took a detour into the ladies room (been drinking lots of water) and then stopped at the “free stuff” table that lives in the basement of Seminary Hall. Usually the table is filled with junk, but today there were books, and lots of them, that I would need for future classes. I grabbed a stack and then walked over to the vending machine for peanuts. On my way back, I passed the table again, met by another classmate who noticed my stack. She surveyed the table and pointed out other books that I would need for future classes that I wasn’t even aware of. No kidding, I saved about $300 in one trip to the vending machine...God is good!

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...And maybe, just maybe, that is why I am sure that when I leave this place that I, too, will write books. It is my prayer that they are books that matter, books that change lives, books that speak to people in ways that the books I have encountered have spoken to me.

Some women have a thing for shoes, but I have a thing for books...Now, don't get me wrong, I like shoes, too!

Reminiscing...

It is 7:55 on Thursday evening. When I noticed the time, something strange kindled within me. I thought about the joy and laughter and closeness that Thursdays meant for my family. We would order Chinese Food from Friendship (or Hing Fat) and watch the Cosby Show. Here I sit, in 2010, missing those Thursday nights, but ever grateful for the way they shaped me. It is my hope that when I have children, that TV will have returned to some measure of wholesome/ethical/responsible/funny programming and that we can enjoy takeout—one a week—while we watch and discuss.

images taken from: http://shanghaiist.com/attachments/shang_erichu/chinese_takeout.jpg and http://americanthings.files.wordpress.com/2009/06/cosby-show-by-ginavivinetto-files-wordpressdotcom.jpg

Today I...

...woke up at 7:00am,

...didn't feel like getting out of the bed.

...got up anyway,

...contemplated not going to work.

...went anyway,

...but not before I went to Whole Foods, two times, for fruit and lamb and barley and eggs.

...went to work.

...went for a walk.

...heard a sermon in my head as I walked,

...then wrote the sermon when I got home.

...cooked.

...cooked some more (mushroom barley soup, lamb chops, and broccoli).

...did some homework.

...wrote this blog and thought about how much more the day would hold.

Think on These Things...

Truth tellers are not always palatable. There is a preference for candy bars. (Gwendolyn Brooks)

Think on these things...

So, as I was ironing my clothes yesterday, I noticed the writing on the label sewn into the dress I was about to put on. Even though I opted to put on another outfit, I was affirmed; I was reminded. In the words of the songwriter, "I believed it, I received it, I claimed it, It's mine..." Let it be yours too...

Somebody Prayed for Me...

Somebody prayed for me,

had me on their mind,

took the time to pray for me.

I'm so glad they prayed,

I'm so glad they prayed,

I'm so glad they prayed for me.

lyrics: Traditional African-American

image: Chester Higgins Jr.