How far across your opinion and your personal position are you willing to reach? Over the stump? Image

Many have lost limbs and vital organs in relationships. Some have come away feeling dark and empty; others left battered and scarred. Fewer still walk away with the perspective that they got what they wanted out of the deal. However, we all COM-PROMISE. This phrase jumps out at me like a rat spotting cheese for the first time.

See we all “come promising” something. We come promising that we will be understanding of the flaws of others, when we know good and well we can barely stomach our own. We come promising to love always and leave never, when the truth is that was a fleeting thought at its conception. We all come promising that we will give it all we’ve got until all we had felt like too much and we stopped short of given a lot. Well, maybe it’s the other way around, We all “come w/promise”. 

No one in a relationship is perfect, not even the wife who never stepped out on her husband even after she found evidence that he did. No I’m not perfect even though I have loved through some hard adversities, loving even in the times when I wondered if he still saw me…even I’m not perfect. I’ve struggled with my own inward battles, had flaws that brought me to my knees, but one thing I learned from this relationship is that I am right where I’m supposed to be. I, he, we came with promise and lest I forget, the Master reminds me daily that He’s not done with me yet! So, I have to meet my spouse somewhere along the way. Finding common ground is inevitable if we search, seek and pray. Oh if the tie that binds us close together seems its wearing thin, I’ll just take my pillow from the bed, bow my knees and pray again. I realize for some that answer may not be the one they choose, but sticking with God is always right and with Him you will not lose! Compromise is key if you intend to see the God of the bible come to life in your reality.


I never thought about Hair as my arch-nemesis, but it is a brilliant concept. hahaha I loved it!

Life .|. God .|. Music

HAIR (Woman’s arch-nemesis) & her side kick PRODUCT:

I am the average woman. My hair isn’t “long” [checking the [] THICK option tho!]. I don’t have those Ananda Lewis curls [though I loved the
way she wore her hair! Such a beautiful person/woman]. I, like most women, have gone through great lengths for the look I want.

We watch, talk, purchase, tease, tame, train, torture, snap, pet, coat, swell, clean, cleanse and pre-poo our hair. The hair industry and the AISLES of hair care products show how dear to us, our hair is. Your hair tells a lot about you, even if you don’t want it to. I thought about this, as I went through my own set up to wash my hair “salon style” in my kitchen sink. Oh that was interesting.

As an engineer, I started thinking about the benefits of all these things that I do to…

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Unrecognizable Tears

Why do I shutter at the tears of another as though I’ve not seen any of my own? Why does it strike me as odd when they cry and the depths of their soul spills onto their cheeks? Why does my tongue remember the saltiness of those that have run down my face – before I recall those are not my tears at all they are the calculated failures I failed to erase. Your tears my sister, your tears my brother are not so unrecognizable to me. I too cried when he stopped calling, moaned when she whispered to others, and walked in circles hesitating confrontation. Yes your tears I can Identify, even though your eyes are the ones that leak, I have a funny feeling I can relate to that which makes your knees buckle and your laughter weak.

Tears are unrecognizable to the happy soul who just got the promotion, but not to the one who recently lost a job. Unrecognizable are the tears of a struggling mother with a paycheck too small to purchase new shoes while the bullies at school laugh at her babies and teachers call her a lazy fool. Although her struggle is foreign to many we’ve all taken a ride on despair’s bus. The tears of a music teacher are unrecognizable to the football coach with a thriving team. Did she pour her heart in to a program that was sure to lose? No!

So what do we do when we realize the shoes of those around us are too big? I tell you what we do when their tears are their food and no one seems to care, we will stand on the shoulders of another, lifting us above the crowd. When we’ve reached our climactic peak we reach down and pull them higher. If we choose to look beyond the constant flow of water falling from their face, we will recognize that within their tears all the pain washed away. The deeper we look the clearer we see that the tears we’ve seen is a clear picture of John 3:16.

Love at the Hem

Let My Words Please

Talking Heads

Many times our words are not seasoned with salt or peppered with grace. We yell at those we don’t mean to, and we are short with those who are the most patient toward us. Why is this? Often times it is because life has a way of pushing us to our limits. Not to mention that the people who are used as our “limit pushers” tend to do so from a distance. Therefore, the ones closest to us are the ones who experience the wrath saved up for the LPs. Well not me, not any more!

Recently, I caught myself spraying stink bombs with my words, and my stares at people who had absolutely nothing to do with my limits. So I decided that I would make a conscious decision to choose my words carefully, to be purposely loving to those around me, and to breathe before responding. It is almost as if I have a movie director in my head with a “take marker” telling me, STOP – now take 2 scene 4, just before I lose my mind on some undeserving soul.  

This blog spot is titled fighting4us, because everyday I have to intentionally decide to fight for the relationships I love. The main relationship I have to contend for regularly is my marriage. Many times my unloving, unpleasing words are directed toward my spouse who at times plays the role of “limit pusher”. But my verbal interaction with him could add wood to the fire or estinguish it altogether. 

You see, in my eyes it is my responsibility as a Christian first and a wife second to find grace for the moment; pausing and carefully re-evaluating my thoughts and motives for what I am about to say befor the words recklously leave my lips. When I speak I must remember that the words I say can be forgiven but they may never be forgotten.

Therefore, my prayer has become, “Lord, let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight…because you are my strength [rock] and my redeemer” Psalm 19:14. God saves me from myself daily! He rescues my words before they hit the open air, and I damage relationships forever! So I say, let my words please.

The Invasion (part 2)

I remember so vividly the silly grin on the face of each teenager that took me in…into the room and shut the door as his mother laid sleep in the living room, and I lay panty less on a nasty bedroom floor. He played with my soft places until I my innocent body began to react, and feel only things a woman should which made me long to come back. My mother would ask me time and again if anyone ever touched me, she used the word in appropriately so I responded no ‘cause I felt lucky. How was I supposed to know that the games they took turns playing with me were gross and really awful?

 All at once my innocence quickly seemed to escape; when I realized what they were doing to me some would consider rape. When the sister finally came home to spend time with me as she had always promised my mom, she noticed I was headed to her brother’s room and wondered why I sobbed. She asked me why I was going there and I said I always do, she waved her fist, yelling at one brother and said this mess is through. So all the times you asked for me, were you looking the other way, while the brothers you knew were sick spent special time with me each day? Or did the encounter you had with me as you saw me passing by, the very room of your dearest sibling with the look of fresh meat in his eyes?

 Seventeen years later, I saw him and the memories came flooding back. Things I had not thought about since that terrible day. Then I found myself whispering, “I forgive you, if not for you for me”. By the time I made through the checkout line I felt totally free. The evil things you did to my body would no longer take its course; because my heart has been penetrated I can cancel the yoke of divorce. Sure the first one that I tried it failed and I was shame, but this marriage I’m in now is sealed in JESUS’ name!

The Invasion (part 1)

Although I would love to blog every day, unfortunately, HE will not release me to do so for your benefit. You, the reader need fresh downloads from God and expressions of the deepest love that He has for you. I don’t blog because I’m bored. I blog because I have something to say and someone, that only I can say it to. Therefore, as I proceed, please understand that this post will be like no other you have read from my previous thoughts. It will be raw and spoken as my husband Abba releases me to speak.

The Invasion

 A bold statement, hmm? Yeah that’s me. Bold. I refuse to quietly sit by and idly watch life happen to people HE especially loves and adores. So, I made a choice to stand up and out for them, for HIM! At the age of 5 I was allowed to visit the neighbors next door, because the oldest daughter still living at home would ask for me often. My mother fully trusted this family, as she had grown very close to their mother and expected her to protect me with her life. You see I was the daughter my mother asked for and no one would ever hurt her little girl!

 Little did she know that hurt was a norm for me, because those who promised to care were never there as I visited. But the boys were. They paid attention to me, they thought I was cute and wanted a live teddy bear to hold and squeeze while fondling and misusing my innocence. Not knowing the details of how they got me there weekly sometimes daily, I went gleefully because someone older wanted to “play” with me. I had brothers, but to them I was just a nuisance to carry the little sister along didn’t make sense. I cramped their style for they were older than me, but what they didn’t know or care to see was that others were abusing me.

Love Deserves an Oscar

Love goes through radical changes, first a word only used when people thought they were traveling down a long dark road of no return. Love is used, misused, confused and abuse. But love is the eternal weight of Glory. The weight that holds down a pig headed,  strong willed person keeping him grounded long enough to advance in his career. Love is the smallest detail written at the bottom of a birthday card of a memory long past. Love has starred in many a motion picture, rode on the horse of many a cowboy, and driven through the hearts of the fast and furious. But for some reason love just lingers on. Love is usually a word thrown into the first phrase of the morning and the last phrase heard before bed at night. Love deserves an Oscar.

Love stays when everyone else has gone home or moved on love still lingers. Love grows with each passing moment of separation and each stroke of the pen to paper. Love never no never fails! Although the relationship ended, or the person left love didn’t fail. Love is something that you can hold on too long after the lover has gone. Love never fails. That’s why Love deserves an Oscar.