Have you ever had one of those days which made you feel like the scene in Goodfellas right before Henry, played impeccably by Ray Liotta, gets hauled off to prison? I did. Yesterday was that day.
After an already taxing last week and start to this week of starting a new job in addition to my existing old job (Go God!) I was rising by 3am each day to make it to one career so I could then head to the new one and do them both well, with a little bit of Monday mentoring of teens from Birmingham’s Woodlawn High School on the side. Add to that the franticness which ensues when one (as in this girl) has to pack a big ol’ house she’s lived in since 2007 and dwindle down clothes, shoes, furniture and other purchased knick knacks to accommodate the three bedroom, corner lot home one (as in this girl) had been praying would come through.
Moving right along through the organized chaos and believing I was handling it quite well with the support of my loving cast of characters I was Heaven-bent on making sure I shared my struggles of the last several years, shared the success of what God was doing, shared my extra furniture and knick knacks with those who needed it and always, always encouraged others along the way to hopefully know that Romans 8:28 is truer than true…then out pops the devil in the form of unwarranted assumptions and implied accusations from an associate. Note, I know exactly who was behind the attempted mid-morning coup to steal my joy and tempt me to respond completely Montgomery mixed with 19th Street West End in the most genteel, southern belle kind of way, of course. It wasn’t this situation or any other human beings. It was the devil…and I hate him. So to him, I paraphrase that Compton master lyricists, Kendrick Lamar and say, “D, don’t kill my vibe!”
You see, I’ve learned a time or two that the devil will give it his best shot when he knows God is about to reveal His very own best for our lives. In the midst of this madness and feeling compelled to defend my character and integrity (something Nette and Ves (my parents) DID NOT and still DO NOT play about), I had to remember that satan is the great deceiver. It wasn’t this situation. he would like nothing more than to taint, distort, twist and distract so that the blessings right in front of us take the back seat to his tomfoolery. Not today. Not yesterday. Not any day and definitely not here.
I don’t blame man for the little sneak attack he launched yesterday. I’ve not yet encountered the reasons behind the event face-to-face and am sure I will, but it is my prayer that my spirit and my attitude are such to breed peace, harmony and all sights ahead to what’s productively forward. That is my prayer. I’ll admit. I’m shocked and hurt. It would be easy, as in REALLY easy for me to hold a grudge, galvanize my posse’, act immaturely or sling blame around like Mardi Gras beads from a balcony in New Orleans, but I blame satan. he’s the one who’s just jealous that on yesterday evening at 7:15pm after all of that professional rigamarole, and after six years of being in one home (blog post on that coming soon) God did something amazingly miraculous for little ol’ me by blessing me with a new home and a new beginning not because I’m worthy, not because I’m perfect, not even because I deserve it, but because He loves me and I’m His girl.
So, at the end of the day this happened…
And to pull from the musical brilliance which is Diddy…
Hey devil, “Take that! Take that! Take that!”