Who In the World Let You Come Back?

Recently, I’ve been battling my Lymphedema again. I was diagnosed, after a minor surgery to rule out the C word, and figure out why I had pain and enlarged nodules under my right arm. It’s not unusual to have bouts with my chronic illness from time-to-time, especially when I fly, when the seasons drastically change or if I do heavy lifting, which I’m not supposed to do. Given that I’ve done all of those things having flown this year to Baltimore and Anaheim with few troubles, experiencing the seasons changing from cold to hot with no troubles and having moved an entire house into another house with little trouble I thought I’d finally made it to full-on Lymphedema management stage, until a couple of weeks ago when the pain and swelling of my right arm came back with a vengeance. I mean that thing came out swangin’ knowing I couldn’t swing back.

 

I’ll be honest. I was mad. Like for real. I was mad. I was mad because I thought I could at least cross Lymphedema off of my “to-do” list, and place it on my “can’t be bothered” roster. I was aware of the maintenance aspect, and up for that challenge, but over the last couple of years, God has quickly taken care of me when the pain arrived and I could move on business as usual. This time, was different. Desperate for relief I did what I would normally do when a bout flared up. I revved up the prayers and prayer partners. I scheduled a massage and another one when that one didn’t fully do what I needed. I took time off to rest it. I resumed wearing my glove. I conducted my manual massages and all of that good stuff and no relief. I even called my Lymphedema specialist, the only one in this entire region, who just so happened to have moved to Murfreesboro, TN shortly after I no longer needed her. I didn’t hear back from her, as I’m sure her wait time now is longer than the six months it was when I was referred to her years ago. So my question to this temporary lymph node nemesis was, “who in the world let you come back?”

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Then, as Facebook and it’s On This Day app would remind me, today, May 25th, marks the exact 5th anniversary of my Lymphadema diagnosis. Talk about a God having a sense of humor. Not only did it remind me of the date it reminded me of what I said on that date. Here’s what I mustered up enough arm strength to type from my trusty Blackberry.

Angela Scott Moore

May 25, 2011 at 8:53am ·

And the plot thickens…so there’ve been some serious complications from my surgery in March. I won’t complain, but instead will compare this to the other times I’ve seen God move in my life. Each time my body has been attacked my blessings have been attached. So as the plot thickens so does my praise!!!! (If I don’t respond to your calls, texts or fb posts right away forgive me. I’ll be back soon:)

And so it is. If it’s time for another round I guess I better hop back on the saddle and ride this thing on out. I felt bad for even being mad. Shame on me. I have no right to complain. I simply don’t.To quote that wise old 39 year old Angela Michele of old…”Each time my body has been attached my blessings have been attached. So as the plot thickens so does my praise!!!!” I’m shifting my focus to praising and planning the celebration while nervous at the same time because I have absolutely no idea what my God could be up to now because He’s already been SO, SO good. Anywho, I’ll keep you posted. You keep praying.

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***And while you’re praying for me, please pray for others who battle this illness in ways FAR worse than I. (Google Lymphedema please). Insurance doesn’t often cover treatment. Treatment for some is deemed impossible. Breast cancer is sometimes a component to this disease. The physical aspect can often pail in comparison to the mental and emotional issues attached to having a limb much larger than the other. My case is so very, very, very minor compared to so many. I truly have so much for which to be thankful. Please add those who battle the painful illness Lymphedema to your prayers.

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@AngelaMMoore316

 

Get Your Soul Food

Life Gets Better

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“Come and Get Your Soul Food, Good, Old-Fashioned Soul Food”…

Those simple lyrics to a popular, old school hip-hop song by ATL’s own Goodie Mob have been fluttering through my spirit for a while. There’s something about food…spirital food, natural food and of course, soul food that does a body good.

Being a Christian under constant renovation, spiritual food and I have really gotten to know each other so much better over the last decade or so. I love spiritual food. I believe in Jesus. I read the Bible, pray, go to church and even in my daily failure, try to be aware of, and live in a way pleasing to God.

Being a blossoming “foodie”, I’ve taken a sincere affection to many things edible. Natural food and I are friends. I like cooking food, watching food being cooked and eating food. I spend time learning about food, visiting restaurants, challenging…

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Don’t Mess With My Friends

Dear Meanies/Misguided/Mistakenly Wrongs of the World,

Don’t mess with my friends. There, I said it. From time-to-time I sense when things aren’t right with those I love. From time-to-time, those I love actually just come out and say what’s wrong. As faith-filled as I’d like to think I am, it hurts to hear that those I love hurt. I don’t take it personally, but I do take it to heart. I’m by no means a fighter or anything near it. I wouldn’t retaliate physically, or even verbally no matter how sometimes I wish I could, or how ABSOLUTELY funny the following photo is… (Take a gander…giggle.)

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I digress. I’m back…

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So, while that “2.5 seconds” quote does not at all apply to me, I will say this, when my loved ones hurt I feel it and I don’t like it. But my fight back is prayer. Listen, Linda or Larry. The worst (or best) thing that can happen to you is for someone to pray for you in the midst of whatever was done or is being done to the one you have hurt whether intentionally or not. Be warned, hurtful people. Prayer works. Talking to you won’t always solve it. Talking about you won’t change it. Acting out, shutting down, turning up or flipping out won’t fix it. But be warned hurters of the world, prayer will put you in a “make your enemies your footstool” position and you’ll find yourself in a place of propping people up who you’d just tried to tear down and you’ll be none the wiser. I’m telling you. You’ll be nice and can’t explain it. You’ll start being a used a resource and can’t understand it. You’ll be proactive, advanced and above-and-beyond in the very areas you were once just the opposite. You will be totally disarmed of the ability to be anything but a blessing, and you may even become healed yourself of whatever hurt caused you to hurt AND nice along the way. Trust me. Prayer works. So just know. I’m praying for you, boo.

So, to my friends who are hurting. Hold your heads up, hunnis. I’ve got you covered. To the people who have hurt them I’m praying for you. To any ones who’ve ever hurt me do know the prayer covering is mutual and there are people sincerely praying for you too. Yep. So think it not strange when things get better and even your own transformed actions seem a bit unbelievable. That’s just the power of some people wise enough to pray.

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@AngelaMMoore316

The Perfect Note Strikes Just the Right Tune

I had the opportunity to visit a new spot in my area, Hoover, Alabama’s Perfect Note, a quaint spot for live music and delish dinner and brunch. Only opened since April 2016, in the old Piccadilly restaurant space off of Highway 31 past the Galleria Shopping Mall, The Perfect Note is just what the city needs to combine the best of both worlds, music and food, and is surely on its way to being an amazing fixture in our community.

What drew me in was an invitation to hear a live tribute to His Purple Majesty Prince Rogers Nelson (RIP) from Alabama-born musician Norris Jones while also enjoying FOOD. What made me return the very next day for brunch with some women from my family was the fun time I had the night before and, well, FOOD. Let me pause on the food talk for a bit and just say that Norris Jones was NOTHING short of ah-mazing!!!! He took us to church, to Paisley Park, to Donnie Hathaway-world, to Earth, Wind and Fire-place, to Jeffrey Osborne-town, Luther-land and some other funky place called Chicken which made me holler! He and his accompanying band of young brothers and his vocal partner in crooning Connie Jackson are a well-kept secret, but hopefully not for too long. They were a TREAT!

Between the two days I was able to order or sample traditional regional favorites like Southern Style Crab Cakes and Fried Green Tomatoes which were DELISH and fried to perfection! Entrees like Chicken and Waffles with candied pecans and the most mouth-watering strawberry molasses were a hit. I could have used more seasoning on the fried chicken, but that might be my Lawry’s-spoiled palate speaking. We had Fried French Toast with molasses, Steak and Eggs, hashbrown potatoes, Croque Madame with a gruyere, ricotta, marscapone mixture which wows in the best possible way. Of course, the beverage partakers partook in elixirs including a signature Purple Rain during the night dedicated to Prince (RIP again) and Mimosa’s for brunch which were marked by multiple raised hands in the air and swinging hips and the audible sounds of, “oooooohhhhh” and “mmmhhhhmmmm”.

With one full month under their belts, the most genuiand plans for tweaking, continued improvement and eventual expansion I can’t wait to see how this happening hot spot continues to tickle taste buds and listening ears at the same time.

Perfect Note is offering the best in live music and food Wednesday through Sunday and located at:

1845 Montgomery Hwy S, Ste 201
Hoover, AL 35244

Reach them at:

Phone: 205-986-7280
mail: info@perfectnotelive.com
web: www.perfectnotelive.com 

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@AngelaMMoore316

I Lost My Credit and Found More Peace

Peace has always been a friend of mine. I’ve sought it. Chased it down. Pleaded for it and tried my best to hold on to it for dear life, my own of course.

Few things have rattled me, baffled me, frightened me and lodged a full-fledged attack on my peace like the last few years. I won’t go into details, as they are not needed, and wouldn’t change a thing if I did.

I grew up in the 80s and watched my parents make the serious and difficult sacrifice to get out of debt.  So, post, financial makeover, I was reared to protect my credit like I protected my name because credit and my name were synonymous. Through college I never had credit cards. After college, I had “charge cards” to places like Casual Corner and paid it back to maintain A+ credit. When I went to purchase another car in 2013 after my Lexus of 11 years died, I was told I had credit so good I could by a “private jet”.

Beginning in 2013, things out of my control which should have happened didn’t happen for a very long time. I was also stuck in a home above my single woman’s, non-profit net pay, subject to hundreds of viewing people over the six years it was on the market, dealing with banks, realtors, letters, emails, calls and so on. Then, it happened. My credit dropped lower than a frisky 1990s co-ed in the Citizen Club in Tuscaloosa, Alabama when his/her favorite Uncle Luke, 12 Gauge or 69 Boyz song came on in the small, sweatbox by the cornfield. I was DEVASTATED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Beyond DEVASTATED, I was madder than James Evans when the gangbanger, Mad Dog shot JJ on that riveting episode of Good Times. (Check the nose flare, people.)

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My peace was under attack, and my ability to respond as Christ would was not too far behind it. That, for me, was no way to be. I don’t know when it happened. I really don’t know how it happened, but for the grace of and good sense from God, however, at some point, after I was turned down for a great job due to bad credit, after a credit card limit was reduced by more than $6000, after I finally received a viable offer on my house but quickly realized at this juncture I wouldn’t be able to purchase another house to own for myself, PEACE prevailed. It took over.

I didn’t fret or panic as much. I prayed more. I asked more people to pray. I started “living” again, enjoying the house I was currently in not counting the costs of tomorrow or ignoring the blessings of today or yesterday. I stopped being frustrated by those who didn’t understand the dyer state of things for me because they’d never been in this situation and didn’t know full details but treated me as if they did (God bless them). I stopped focusing on who wasn’t doing what was supposed to be done and TRULY praised the Lord for what He was doing. And by doing, I mean the fact that my last year in my last home God covered the mortgage all by Himself. Yes, the scary letters and phone calls stopped. The threats of foreclosure or deed in lieu stopped. And, with not a dime paid to my gracious banking lender, I lived. He did that! Yep!

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Now granted, I lived knowing each day my credit was dropping lower and lower and knowing that the eventual Short Sale I had to accept would take it lower than an intoxicated passenger in the limbo competition on a Caribbean cruise ship, but I lived through it to meet the most wonderful realtor who took me in figuratively like a young cousin telling me her testimony and working hard for two years to sell my home while also offering to literally allow me to stay with her when it looked like the bad credit was going to prevent me from even being able to rent a house (talk about SCARED out of my mind!) I lived to finally “meet” an amazingly, kind new landlord, who welcomed me to his property with full disclosure of my current credit profile (and we’ve never met face-to-face). I lived through to be able to give away SO MUCH good stuff to people who really needed it from the nine years I enjoyed my previous home. I still have more to give. Any takers? I lived biting my tongue and truly being able to pray God’s best for all involved. I lived to arrive to the most “homey” feeling neighborhood I’ve dwelled in since my days in West End, where I walk in my home that my God, my two jobs (#TitheGoneUp) and I can afford and I feel happy, thankful and full of peace. To God be the Glory!

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As I sit and listen to the serenading birds enjoying the natural lighting beaming through my rental home I still don’t know where my already demolished credit will land after the Expedian report shows my April short sale, but I’m not bothered. I trust that a God who can pay a big money mortgage for more than a year and can restore the credit of so many friends who have shared their testimony and can keep me from acting out of who He created me to be can cover my credit like a Vivica A. Fox snug wig straight out of the net. I trust Him.

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@AngelaMMoore316