Bama Football: It’s More Than a Game

Remixed just in time for the most wonderful time of the year!

Life Gets Better


Typing this post as a fully converted football fan who, until four years ago despised the sport, I realized something about the state of football in the state of Alabama. Yes, it’s about touchdowns. Yes, it’s about century-old rivalries. Yes, it’s about team colors and mascots, scores and superstars in the making, but it’s more than that. It’s more than a game. It’s a movement subconsciously (and successfully) meant to build bridges.

To me, Bama football is about a state being able to work towards working past its self-inflicted wounds to win, not just on the field, but in humanity with a piece of pigskin, a crowded stadium, and four quarters as a backdrop. I know we’re not all the way there, but I believe something happens on a Saturday afternoon in the fall or Monday night in the winter that causes us to inch one yard closer to the goal of where we should be…and that’s together. Say what you…

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How’d They Do That?


I’m convinced that I’m from a line of special-agent, super heroes. As my mind thought back to my childhood, as it often does, it drifted to food. As fresh a memory as one created moments ago I thought back to the days spent at home in Birmingham, Alabama and with family in Montgomery, Alabama. My mother, grandmothers, great-grandmother, godmother, aunts and other caretakers took care of my relatives and me. They really took care of us. Tending to houses full of children, working full-time jobs, taking care of husbands, other people’s children and themselves, and making sure we never, ever, ever went without a meal that left a lasting memory was the norm. I often ask myself not, how’d they do that.


I fondly remembered one of my favorite meals: Salmon croquettes, white rice, English peas, canned Hungry Jack biscuits and Kool-Aid. With an active and growing family of five it baffles me to no end to ponder how my mother fed us with one can of fish, a few crackers and some flour, one cup of rice, one can of peas (with a pat of butter), one can with five, fluffy biscuits and some “red or purple” Kool-Aid.

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lesueur-peas                                                 4_1_20                                              koolAidPacketGrape

I would ask my mother now how she did it, or how her mother fed as many as 15 of us at one time with homemade stroganoff, Dig Em Smacks or Conecuh Sausage and “cinnamon toast”. I would ask if she could tell me the secret to how her grandmother Angie Lou and Aunt Ozie (Tee Walker) managed to babysit too many of us to count at one time, feeding growing girls and boys from two cans of Chef Boyardee spaghetti with skinny, pink weenies (hot dogs) chopped up in it or homemade, tasty pies. I would ask her if she can fill me in on how her Aunt Ann managed come into town from New York City and buy so many Chick-fil-A sandwiches one day that they were literally overflowing from the stove and counters because she wanted all of her “darlings” that she loved to enjoy what she’d grown to love. I would ask how her Aunt Laura hosted amazing Christmas gatherings blending multiple families, with multiple food preferences with ample food and amazing memories to share year after year. I want to know how my mother’s sisters Jackye and Ann managed to let us spend summer days with them that were actually fun and still today host amazing family functions complete with red cups, too much food and line dancing or ultra-fancy and super-fun Mother/Daughter teas. I would ask how my dad’s sister Vanteal practically let me live with her (to be closer to high school friends (and secretly my high school “boo”) and served us up fried fish, baked beans and hush puppies, or cheese toast (from a real-live toaster oven that you could sneak and use in the middle of the night) with unlimited sodas and down stairs dancing each time we asked, or even when we didn’t knowing it would make us happy. I would have to inquire how my daddy’s mother Grandma Scott and his sister Aunt Shirlene let us spend weeks with them each year that always included trips to the grocery store to shop for the exact foods we wanted including Totino’s pizza, Neapolitan ice cream and more pink weenies (hot dogs), but was never without amazing homemade cakes, delicious greens, peas, neckbones, hot cornbread and Tab soda.  I would have her help me understand how my great cousin Hazel would make it to family functions from New York as often as some who lived in the state, and how at the age of 80+ she rolled out the red carpet in the Big Apple and managed to make my 40th birthday one of the absolute best ever. I would ask my mother how our godmother/babysitter Ella kept and fed us two-to-three full “Sunday-like” meals including homemade cake daily on a babysitter “salary” that was too little for me to type, and how to this day she still dotes on us as if we’re children with a cake, also known as sweet bread, waiting most times we visit. Those women are my rock and they ROCK!


I would spend my time asking my mother for answers to these mysteries, but I’m afraid my asking would be in vain. I really want to know how they did it, but 40+ years into life, with these wonderful women, some of whom are hanging out with Jesus in Heaven now, I’m well aware that were I to ask, the answer would simply be, “We did what we had to do with what God gave us. That’s just who we are.” And that answer, ladies and gentleman, is good enough for me. Ladies, I salute you!




I Asked God to Do It and He Did


I asked God to do something for me and He did! He didn’t do it when I wanted Him to. In fact, according to my Liz Clairborne timepiece, He took His time. Not that I “wrestled  Him” like Jacob, but I’d made up my mind that I was not going to let go! I’m so glad I hung on. And I’m so glad He did it His way, because not only did He do better than what I asked, but He didn’t give it to me until after I failed in trying to get it on my own, and until after I became content (again) with what He’d already given and until exactly when I needed it.


Even though the prayer was one that I sincerely prayed and believed for, I was honestly taken by surprise when I received the blessing. I have a track record with Jesus and should have known He was up to something (the devil and his devilettes were a clear signal), but something in me was genuinely surprised when my prayer was answered. I like the feeling of being surprised by a Savior who loves me enough to shower me with a surprise or two here and there!


With not many words to say in this blog, all I’ll simply say is TRUST IN THE LORD. He’s been doing what He’s doing for more than 2000 years and knows how to bless you in ways your heart, mind and spirit can’t imagine. @AngelaMMoore316



Seasons Have Changed


A friend and I were scheduled to go to dinner soon to one of my new “fav” restaurants. As excited as I was, I was even more disappointed when I noticed that my account didn’t match my appetite. Some bills and business needed tending to more urgently than my desire for pecan pie in a glass.

Upon acceptance of the temporary state of my checkbook I was torn as to whether or not to tell her the reason for the cancellation. Why did telling her the real reason matter so much to me? Sure, I could have said I was busy. I typically am these months of the year. Sure, I could have said something came up at work or with family. Often it does. Sure I could have just asked to reschedule with no explanation, but I also could have pushed pride aside and opted for the good, old-fashioned truth (and wondered why I cared in the first place that my funds haven’t yet gotten the “I’m wealthy” memo that’s certainly on the way.)

Caught between a rock and without that succulent, roasted breast of turkey, I made the bold move to simply ask that we reschedule and tell her why. So I told her. Then she told me…the exact same thing! With an “LOL” here and an “LOL” there, we both acknowledged that our funds had been rerouted from the restaurant to some other more pressing matters and agreed that next week would be the week where we giggled, chatted and chewed it up without concerns of the “money monkey” on our backs.

So again, I wondered. Why did it bother me to own where I was, even if I didn’t like it, or know it wouldn’t last? I will say, that, for me, growth has taken place. The old/old me would have gone anyway, and tried to wiggle some things around that had no business being wiggled. The old/new me might have actually had the funds go to because circumstances were much different. The new/old me might have come up with a reason other than the real reason, as if I’m not allowed to use financial sense concerning my dollars and cents, but the new/new me simply “kept it real” and waited on a response of either “let’s reschedule” or “I gotcha covered”, which we’ve both been known to do. The seasons have changed.

Whew! Oh what a relief it is to be able to be transparent and honest and humbled, knowing that just because things are one way they don’t have to stay that way, but one way to be certain that they do stay that way is to keep doing things the same way. So I did it differently. I saved money. Had a brief laugh with my friend and at myself and mustered up something to look forward to next week as I enjoy some tasty food that I can actually afford!


God Gets the First and Final Say So

So many times in life we are derailed by the words and perceptions of people. Enough of that already! It’s time to put mess on mute! Regardless what has been spoken over, spread about, implied concerning, or believed regarding you God gets the final say so. It doesn’t matter what they say when you know and believe what God says. Yes, the unhealthy, unwise, ungodly, unguided words of others may hurt, temporarily set us back, cause us to question and possibly not trust, but they do not, nor ever will, trump the Word of God. Always remember that God gets the first and final say so. Capisce?!?!? (I took two years of Italian in college. Capisce means understand…lol!)


So in spite of what “they’ve” said I want to remind you of what HE said!


  • I haven’t been left. Deuteronomy 31:6
  • I’m promised joy in the presence of God. Psalm 16:11
  • I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Psalm 139:14
  • I am a child of God. John 1:12
  • I am loved. John 3:16
  • I am a friend with God. John 15:15
  • I am not condemned by God. Romans 8:1
  • I am an heir with Christ. Romans 8:17 
  • I have a healed broken heart. Psalm 147:3
  • I have wisdom, righteousness and redemption, in Christ Jesus. 1 Corinthians 1:30 
  • I am a new creation. 2 Corinthians 5:7
  • I have been set free. Galatians 5:1 
  • I have been blessed with every spiritual blessing. Ephesians 1:3 I am chosen, holy, and blameless before God. Ephesians 1:4
  • I am redeemed and forgiven by the grace of God. Ephesians 1:7
  • I have been brought near to God by the blood of Christ. Ephesians 2:13
  • I have boldness and confident access to God through faith in Christ. Ephesians 3:12 
  • I have been made complete in Christ.Colossians 2:10 
  • I am an overcomer in Christ Jesus. 1 John 5:4
  • I can do all things through Christ. Philippians 4:13
  • I have everything I need. Philippians 4:19  


Ladies, A Man Can’t Fix It for You

I’m not sure how many male followers I have on this blog. I don’t think it’s too many (yet), so I’m going to take a moment and speak to my ladies. (As I type this intro it reads in my mind like the start to a good, ol’ blues song!)


Ladies, a man can’t fix it for you. That’s as simple and plain as I can post it. Whatever it is that hurt you, hindered you, distracted you, discombobulated you, shocked you, stunted your (figurative) growth or in any way affected you in a way that God never designed it to a man can’t fix it for you. Are men wonderful? Absolutely! Are they a necessary part of our lives here on earth? You better know it! Can they make great boyfriends, husbands, fathers and friends? Without a doubt! But can they fix you? Not in a thousand years. In fact, the Man who can fix you already handled that about two thousand years ago. His name is Jesus. I believe, and have proof in my very own life that only through knowing Him, reading and trusting His word and believing that He cares enough to handle what hurts you can you really be healed of your hurt.


In my developmental years I probably didn’t experience nearly the amount or severity of issues that others did. I came from a great, loving, two-parent home. I had excellent education, supportive extended family, great friends, was exposed to a lot of positive things, grew up going to church, didn’t get in trouble (except for skipping school and pouting about not having my way) was never abused, never knew hunger or lack (in spite of what my selfish, teenage self thought) and pretty much enjoyed a pleasant childhood and adolescent years. Not that I was void of living life and the many surprises if often brings, but nothing was ever said or done to me by another that would negatively affect me. With all that said, I still battled with low-self esteem during parts of my teen years. My solution was to date the “popular, smart, very mischievous and very different than my own personality” guy (God rest his soul) to validate myself. Needless to say, that didn’t work and backfired in ways my tiny, teen heart couldn’t have imagined. But did that stop me from continuing down a path of thinking having a boo or being someone’s boo could fix whatever I was dealing with or feeling? No ma’am. No sir. I kept right on the “man can fix it train”. I didn’t fully grasp that a man can’t fix me until I realized that in all my attempts to fill my own voids I still ended up void, and with bags under my eyes from crying and painful lessons learned from not listening.

Pardon me as I digress, but here’s a question I wish I would have asked myself…”Dear, sweet, you don’t even know how special you are, Angela, why is it you won’t readily believe in the power of the Man who gave His life for you, but you’ll speedily believe the boy/manchild/man whom you allow to give you heartache and pain?”

Back to the blog… It wasn’t until I accepted the truth of scripture concerning how wonderfully God made me, His amazing promises for me, His desires for my future and ability to use my past and present for my good, His healing power, His undeniable ability to restore and the fact that He’s a gentleman, being certain that no one takes the credit for His creation or any fixing, remixing, updating and upgrading that said creation might require.

So, pains from your family, misuse of your body, addiction, rejection from others, death and disappointment, abandonment, poverty, unmet expectations, unrealized dreams, fears, doubts and questions may come, but they don’t have to stay. God is so great He’s sitting on ready, set, go just waiting on you to trust that He can do what no man can ever do and that’s fix it (whatever your “it” may be).