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My sister girls we are look often seen and defined by a state of separation and disconnection. It's what has become the norm of these days. It's our job in this day to change that narrative. Transparently I say I wasnt always one to uplift other women. I was the exact opposite to be honest. My own insecurities fueled, I fell into the mindset any other woman was my competitor. I hadn't grown up with biological sisters, the connection with women I saw from my mother weren't healthy. I didnt know what a sisterly bond was. Men weren't competion because well they were a way to gain another learned behavior. (Another story for another day) Growing up lacking with a desire to have as others had haunted me. A mind focused on the need to gain and get ahead so validation and acceptance would come, so I could be like the others. I masked the hurt I had as well as the hurt I'd caused with dismissive, antagonizing and destructive behaviors I called "keeping it real...

Some years ago I was taking vocal training. Often times in the session the instructor would say project your voice, you're whispering. You operate like you're afraid of your own voice. I'd get so frustrated every time he said it and so I eventually dropped out of the training. But the words of the instructor somehow stuck with me. Fast forward 2012 I was called upon to preach my 1st sermon. My nerves got the best of me. All I kept thinking was no one wants to listen to me, no one wants to hear me and those words rang in my ear "youre afraid of your own voice". I begged and pleaded to not have to complete the assignment before me. That didnt work at all so after given no option I completed my assignment. That night someone came to me, a stranger someone who had no motive in encouraging me and she said " this was a platform I know but your voice, your words are what God sent me here for tonight". That night that curse of fear was broken. After much r...

Most little girls grow up playing with baby dolls and even at a young age can tell you how many children their little minds have envisioned having. As young girls we are taught to be nurturers. Brought baby dolls, carriages, kitchens. I was no different. I remember having dolls, bathing, feeding, even making clothes for them. I'd thought of what I'd name my children. My daughter after my grandmother I'd never met and after their dad should I have a son. At age 18 my dream shattered....... pregnant, engaged, fresh out of high school sitting in labor and delivery being told there's no heart beat. How could this be?, this wasn't part of the dream. I'd go through this 4 more times. Genetic testing, amniocentesis, medications, nothing ending in the result of that childhood dream. At age 25 I met a man and we vowed to do things "the right way". No sex before marriage, we moved in to our apartment on our wedding night. Two months later we received the n...

In this time of pandemic we should all be taking time for reflection. One of the things I have reflected upon further and shared with others is the need for acceptance. Acceptance of those around you ability and or inability to be present. I spent a great deal of my childhood angry with my biological father. Angry that while I lived in an abusive home he was absent, angry that I had to go through without a shield without protection. Angry because I had no outlet, no means of communication that wouldnt be reciprocated negatively. So I grew up a shell, a house built of emptiness and just occasional bouts of light. In my mid 20's we were able to mend some of that anger. In my 30's he shared with me some of his reasoning that left me thinking he doesn't get it. It wasnt until my late 30's when God called him home at his home going listening to the stories shared by his friends and people he had impacted that I realized being present as a father was just something the ...

If there was one message I could give to my younger/adolescent self it would be SPEAK UP. And when one wont listen keep speaking til someone does. At about 7 or 8 years old I discovered the monsters in the closet do exist. The monster of a molesters hand and voice, the monster of the same young mans lies, the monster that created distain in the eyes of those who were to protect me. The monsters that later said come show cousin _______ some love, sit on my lap let so & so sit there. The monster that silenced my voice because no one believed the little girls tale. So to my younger self I say speak up. Wounds covered never heal. It's never too late to speak up and be free of your torment. To you my readers I say never negate the sound of a younger person's cries. Monsters in the closet do exist. #ShakenForRestoration