I Have a Testimony

When I look back over my life and I think things over, I can truly say that I've been blessed. I have a testimony!

Rev. Clay Evans

I have a testimony. When I think about it—really think about it—God has been so, so good to me. I cannot tell it all. But that doesn't stop me from trying. God has brought me a mighty long way in so many areas of my life, including my journey to health and fitness. Thanks be to God, Minister Crystal Cochren (one of my sisters in ministry and founder of the My Faith and Fitness Blog) has given me a space to share the goodness of God as it relates to my faith and fitness. Check it out here.

And while on her site, be sure to read through her posts. You will surely be encouraged and blessed! So blessed in fact that you will want to take the time to vote for her. She's been nominated for a 2013 Black Weblog Award in the best faith based blog category. You can vote here.

By the way, I finally registered for the Trenton Half Marathon and 10K Race on Saturday, November 9, 2013. I am running with the Black Girls Run! Group. I am so excited! My excitement showed on the pavement today. I was super confident, fully embodied, and ran my fastest time yet! This race presents so many opportunities: Not only do I have the chance to trust God to do something in me I've always feared, I also have the chance to run with an amazing group of Black and Brown women who are totally committed to living healthy and whole lives. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I will have a testimony to share after that race.

Think on These Things: I Found the Answer

As I prepared breakfast for Baby Girl on Monday, I could hear Mahalia Jackson's voice faintly in the distance:

I found the answer, I learned to pray,
O, with faith to guide me, I've found the way.
The sun is shining for me each day,
I found the answer, and I learned to pray.

This song ministered to me on Monday morning and continues to do so. I hope it blesses your soul as you go about life's journey.

Preaching: A Maskil

Yesterday I preached at the Bethesda Baptist Church of New Rochelle. Bethesda nurtured and nourished me in the faith. It is the place where I accepted Christ, engaged in rigorous study of the Bible, answered my call to ministry, was ordained to the Gospel ministry, and served as the Assistant to the Pastor for two years. It is also the place where I learned to preach. My pastor, Rev. Dr. Allen Paul Weaver, Jr. is a dynamic, passionate, and educated preacher. He loves Jesus, loves his people, and pours out from the depths of his soul when he is in the pulpit. Before I engaged in a formal study of homiletics in Seminary, I learned about exegesis, textual analysis, voice, and delivery sitting under Dr. Weaver. I am grateful for his witness and for every opportunity that he has given me.

This morning as I reflected on my preachment, and myself as a preacher, I recognized two things:

I am not a "hooper" by any stretch of the imagination. My preaching professor once remarked that I wasn't the most excitable preacher. (He was affirming my voice.) A woman in a congregation I preached at last month noted that my voice was calming. I used to envy preachers who could move a crowd with their voice. I wanted my own signature "say yeah" that would have people standing to their feet when I preached. If I am honest, I felt a tinge of nervousness before I preached yesterday. When I arrived at the church I was told, several times, how the preacher at the 7:30am service tore the pulpit up. I am not a pulpit tearer-upper. But God set me straight. God is pleased as long as I am excited about the Gospel, immersed in study, and preach with authenticity of voice. That authenticity comes across when I preach--whether my voice is soft or booming.  Besides, the "goal" of preaching is not to have folks standing when you preach; Rather that they walk the aisles to surrender their lives to Christ and/or have a closer walk with Jesus when they leave the sanctuary.

I used to rely heavily on a written manuscript and my technology, namely my iPad, to preach. God has reminded me that when preaching that I need to rely solely on the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. In this new season my preparation has changed. I have surrendered my rigidity and my controlling nature. I have been soaking up God's word, whether I am preaching or not, so that when it comes time to prepare there is something deep within for God to work with. Yesterday, as I mounted the pulpit, I went with Bible and an outlined 4x6 index card in hand. I never even glanced at the index card. This is a far cry from the woman who would previously read word for word from her digital manuscript on the iPad. If it was on the screen, I said it. If it wasn't on the screen, I didn't say it. This, of course, left little room for the blowing winds of the Holy Spirit to breath afresh on that which I had prepared. This is not to say that I'll never write a manuscript again. It simply means that I recognize that the manuscript doesn't give me power to preach; God give me power to preach.

Life, if we take the time to look back, has much to teach us. These are but two of the many lessons I hope to learn in this journey...

Transition Time...

I love change.

That said, I also hate transition.

In other words, I despise the process involved with change. From the frivolous: I love drastically changing my hair, but I despise sitting to get braids, growing out bangs, etc. To the serious: I love salvation, but sanctification is tough for me (God, why can't we be perfect in one fell swoop?)

And so, this has been a rough couple of days for me. Baby girl is doing quite well in daycare; She has been playing and learning and eating and sleeping well. Her momma, on the other hand, is having a harder time. I'm fine when she's at daycare. In fact, I got more done before noon on Wednesday than I had gotten done in the three weeks prior. I have been reading and writing and cleaning and running errands unencumbered. Plus, I'm looking forward to passionately engaging with adults once I begin working again. However, when Baby Girl comes home it is a different story. She is figuring out what it means to be home with me--and only me--for just a few hours before bedtime. She has been clingy and fussy and tired and nothing I do, short of going outside to play for two hours, helps. I miss my sweet little lovely. I await her return. And until then, I will be patient and extend grace to her, and to myself. For it is grace that gets us through moments of transition...

Vocation: A Holy Conversation

vocation |vōˈkāSHən|nouna strong feeling of suitability for a particular career or occupation: not all of us have a vocation to be nurses or doctors.• a person's employment or main occupation, esp. regarded as particularly worthy and requiring great dedication: her vocation as a poet.• a trade or profession.ORIGIN late Middle English: from Old French, or from Latin vocatio(n-), from vocare ‘to call.’Tomorrow, Baby Girl will start daycare/school. I was so excited that I purchased a back to school outfit for her (which includes a polka-dotted tutu). Sadly, there are no new clothes for me. Thanks be to God, there is another kind of newness in store!This newness is around my vocation. I've posted the definition of vocation above. In my understanding of vocation, the above definition reduces the word to something lifeless and one sided. I am drawn more to the origins of the word--vocare--which means to call. What we do is more than a job; What we do is our response in holy conversation with a gracious and loving God. I am reminded of the Prophet Isaiah, who in response to God's calling answered, "Here am I, Lord. Send me!" (Is. 6:8). I answered my call to preach in 2007, however I believe that--whether ordained or layperson--God calls us over and over and over again for greater works, new directions, and new visions all to His glory. Beloved, God is calling me again...To that end, before I get active in my new church home (New Hope Baptist Church of Metuchen, NJ) and before I find employment (baby needs a new pair of shoes to match her tutu) I am going to get still and get clear and listen for God's call as to the direction I should go. And whether it is full-time ministry, non-profit work, education, a mix of the three, or none of the above, as long as God is leading, I will certainly follow. This more than about a job to make ends meet. In fact, it is more than about a career to sustain our family over the years. This is about being who God has called me to be, in the place where God has call me to be. To help me get there, I plan to spend a week doing the following:1) Creating a Vision Board2)Completing the "Discovering Your Spiritual Gifts" Assessment3) Completing the "Birkman Method Preview Report"The first two, vision board and spiritual gifts assessment, I've done multiple times. Without fail, God speaks to me and with these tools I am able to write the vision and make it plain (Habakkuk 2:2). I had planned to do the Myers-Briggs assessment, but a fellow creative momma suggested that the Birkman method may be more helpful for who I be. These tools, coupled with Scripture, prayer, and meditation will surely open me up to live boldly into the fullness of my vocational identity. In the days and weeks that follow, I look forward to sharing my discoveries with you.Beloved, what has God called you to do? When is the last time you paused to listen for the call? What tools have you used to open your heart to God's calling? How have you responded?It is my prayer that as God calls us anew, that like Isaiah, our response would be affirmative availability. That, indeed, is the essence of vocation...(definition jacked straight from the new oxford american dictionary on my mabcbook pro)

Hello, my name is Donna and I am a first time mom.

There, I said it.

What does it matter, you ask? Let me give you a glimpse. It means I second guess almost every parenting decision I've made for the past 16 months, even the ones from way down deep in my gut. It means I boast extra hard to the point that you'd think my baby girl was a child prodigy. It means I'm enamored with her sweet smile and funny antics and that I want everyone to see. (And I do mean everyone, including my Twitter followers.) It means that I cringe at every fall and snatch every piece of paper that seems to be heading for her mouth. (I've hear that by baby #2 all that goes at the window. Sure baby, eat the Crayolas! They are non-toxic.)

It also means that as awesome as this next phase of our lives will be, I am trippin' extra hard when it comes to sending baby girl to daycare. Hubby and I visited eight centers in one day and made a prayerful and informed decision about where we would send her. The place is filled with trained staff, love, and a diverse student body. And it is spic and span clean. We chose a time, beyond what we thought would be my year at home, that was right for our family. This allowed baby girl and I to visit my sister and niece in California for three week and enjoy a long weekend in Orlando for our family reunion. It also allowed for lots of cuddle and play time for us before the hustle of life resumed. So given the consideration that went into this decision I shouldn't trip.

But I am.

Today I dropped her off for a one hour "play date" at her daycare facility so she could interact with her teachers and the other children. And, if my racing heart was any indication, I tripped hard. I am trippin' less for her and more for me. Being home with baby girl, as uncertain as I felt at times, allowed me to rest in one aspect of my identity: mother. I didn't have to think about myself as preacher, teacher, artist, or writer during that time. In other words, I didn't have to deal with my stuff: feeling alone in New Jersey--like I have no people, wondering where I will work; wondering what I will do; wondering I will be invited into spaces to minister when no one know me; wondering if people will figure out that I feel like a fraud in most aspects of my vocational life--like I've mistakenly earned three degrees and been ordained.

Before I get too caught up in my head, my heart kicks in and reminds me that I am exactly where God desires for me to be and that with God, all things are possible. I am reminded that God has gifted me to the praise of His glory. I am reminded that I worked hard for my degrees and was ordained to the Gospel ministry even before the foundations of the earth. I am reminded that even though I'm out here all alone, that God will open doors in ministry that no man, woman, boy or girl can shut. I am reminded that God called me--in the fullness of who I be--to serve this present age (including my hubby and baby girl). I am reminded that God, who began a good work in me, will be FAITHFUL to complete it.

So, for now, my trip is over. As a point of reference, I reserve the right to trip all over again.
It's part of the journey...

Microphone Check

Testing...

Is this thing on?

It seems we were having some technical difficulty. Or perhaps I lost my voice. Or perhaps...

Whatever it was, it is over now.  

This morning I woke up singing, "I can feel the breaking of day..."

It could have been the seven and a half hours of uninterrupted sleep I got.  (Never underestimate the restorative power of sleep.) But I know in my soul that it was more than that. It was--and is--God, tugging on my heart, telling me that it is time to wake up and get moving.  

Not that I haven't been moving.  Surely, chasing a fifteen month old around is not sitting still. But its a different kind of movement.  It is time to write. It is time to create. It is time to preach. It is time to teach. It is time to engage in the fulness of my vocational identity. 

This week marks the last full week I will spend at home with Baby Girl. She will begin daycare next week. I am excited and anxious, but I know that it is necessary for our family.  It is necessary for me. Part of being a good mother and wife means being a good woman and minister. However, I know in the depths of my soul that the time home with her was theological education, indeed. For God has used her to teach me so much about the depths of God's love and the nature of humanity (including myself).

I am writing this as she sleeps. Nothing new there, right? What is new is that I am writing this from my brand spanking new Macbook Pro. My old computer died when Baby Girl was three months old. And as much as I wanted a new one, it wasn't time. At the time, finances were the primary reason. With all of the stuff that babies need, buying a new laptop wasn't a high priority. As I look back, it wasn't really about the money. It was more about the timing of it all. 

I am reminded by the Preacher in Ecclesiastes that,"He has made everything beautiful in its time" (3:11 NIV).

Beloved, it is my time. Stayed tuned and tell your friends. New things--beautiful things--are on the horizon.