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

D, Don’t Kill My Vibe!

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.

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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!”

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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!”

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@AngelaMMoore316

What Makes Faith?

A friend and I were talking about a situation recently, one that is stretching me to grow in an area I thought I was already fully grown. After stating my “claim”, this trusted sage said, “Oh, and here I thought you were a Christian.” Huh? What?!?!?! I blinked my eyes and said with southern sarcasm, “I am!” The response…”Well, you’re not acting like it. Where is your faith? You talk all that talk and now that this is happening, and you’ve been waiting on it to happen you’re acting like a little chicken. This is nothing new to the God you say you believe in. Gone way from here with that!” And just like that I got “read” like a Housewives reunion on repeat.

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So I pose this question to you all. What makes faith? I think it’s the situations we face which cause us to stretch and grow, especially when we thought we were already fully grown, think we can’t go another inch, think we’ve already made it through, push us out of comfort, knock the wind out of us which make our faith. It’s the times we (rightfully) believe we deserve a break, have just come out of battle and face another way,  have had success in that area already and thought that “class” was over, can’t figure out the solution to save our life, have to daily battle fear within our flesh and HAVE TO HAVE absolute, total reliance on God as the only One to see us through which make faith and make the best testimonies of God’s great, great power.

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@AngelaMMoore316

Uuuggghhhh! Why Do You Have to Be So Happy?

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It’s not often I spill the tea. I’d much rather savor a warm Orange Pekoe Spice Blend of it with a hint of Earl Grey, while my pinky is slightly lifted and my head tossed ever so gently back. Anyhow, today I’m spilling some tea (also known as the 411, information, deets, da truth, the business, beeswax and a bunch of other colloquialisms of which I’ve not yet become hip to). Today I’m spilling the tea on how hurting people often feel about happy people. Baby, a person hasn’t smiled until he or she has had to smile for someone who has what was once had or what we want to have, and we need to be, have to be and should be genuinely happy for them.

Is it just me or is it sometimes hard to be happy for others when hurting in the area in which they are happy? This is especially so with the increasing popularity of social media. Pics, posts and timelines can sometimes cause in a tailspin.  I know I’m not the only one who has felt this way, or at least I hope. I could tell some stories about smiling on the outside with a bunch of “why not me” on the inside as I mustered through enough internal fortitude to hold back tears and simultaneously saying congrats (congratulations was too big of a word to utter). I can hip you to the game of wanting to shut all the way down on people and social media if I saw one more “I’m getting married. I got a fabulous new job. I went on an exotic vacation. I’m debt free. I’m healed. I have a new house.” post. Not that I’ve lingered in those feelings, but I’d be less than truthful if I said, at times, the raw, initial real emotions stimulated by praying to come out of the negative while a friend is flowing in the financial overflow, or going to a wedding while going through a divorce, or planning a baby shower while baby-less doesn’t sometimes sting like an angry, lower Alabama yellowjacket on a hot August day. It does often sting. Not all the time, but certainly sometimes. And it appears, at least during times where this had been my struggle, that the longer the pain and the subsequent promise I’d been waiting/hoping/praying/believing for as a result of it lingers, the harder the enemy tried to get me to stop sowing seeds of sincere gratitude on behalf of the one who just so happens to have already reaped his or her harvest.

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So what is one to do when one struggles with how to stay connected to, happy for, and inspired by those who were a source of joy prior to the pain? That’s a good question. We have to keep on being happy for the ones who are happy. Sorry, it’s not rocket science, even though it may feel like it at times. I have learned that in those times where I was most challenged in this area the decision to be happy, present, and/or a participant in another person’s blessing did one or two things. It helped usher in my own blessing in my area of need or it served as a needed distraction until that said blessing shows up. Both of those pushed me closer to God so it was worth it.

Will there be times where one simply can’t be there like that fabulous wedding with a candy station and photo booth I missed shortly after my ex-husband left? Absolutely. Will there be times where one tries to maintain the same support or presence as once had, but have to make minor adjustments for sanity’s (or your pocket’s) sake? Yes, ma’am and sir. Will there be times one didn’t think he/she would able to do it, say it, be there or be a part and do it anyway with trembling knees or shaking hands then find out at the end of the day or end of the night that all things are possible? Please believe.

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Whatever happens as a result of what hasn’t happened yet, that internal, sincere place of being happy for those who are happy has to be there and stay there regardless of where we are and what we’re going through. Why? Because we owe it to those who have been there for us to be there for them as best we can through their stages of rejoicing and celebration and through our own personal stages of our healing, restoration or waiting. Plus, the seasons will change and one day we’ll be able to share the goodness of who God is and what He has done, and we want to be able to operate in and exercise compassion for those who are where we once were because we remember how it felt to be there. Now sip on that:)

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@AngelaMMoore316

Hold On for Dear Life, Dear

Thrice recently I’ve experienced being in the presence of people who have felt that all hope was gone. One even uttered that faith had been lost. To hear that and see another human being at that point because of the trials of life is heartbreaking. I know it’s easy often to think people should just “get over it”, “move on”, “pray about it”, “deal with it” or “simply smile”, but sometimes some people can’t. And many times that’s why God allows them and their hurt, pain or issues to cross our paths so they can partake in a big dose of our encouragement. They don’t need judgment, tons of questions or questioning, just genuine care, channels for conversation, ample prayers, sincere support, plenty of testimonies and a couple of opened ears and an available heart to hear them.

So, if that’s you dear, hold on for dear life. Don’t quit. Don’t lose faith. Don’t believe the lie that joy, peace and hope aren’t your option. Don’t feel like you are all alone. Don’t believe that hope serves no purpose. Don’t think that you are the only one dealing with what you’re dealing with. Don’t think you’ve done anything to deserve the temporary transition you’re in. Don’t believe that one dream denied cancels all others. Don’t think you are not loved, needed and necessary. Don’t think your life is no longer of use. Don’t believe one person in (or out of your life) determines the quality of your life. And whatever you do, don’t believe anything your head tells you that doesn’t line up with the notion that BETTER is yours.

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Hold on for dear life, dear. Hold on.

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@AngelaMMoore316

Don’t Forget About Jesus Christ

Soooooooooooooooo much is going on in the world around us, especially of late, in the United States. There have been senseless killings, protests all around, civil unrest and injustice. There are sides spewing points of view at every second of the social media timeline tickers. The holiday shopping season is here, prompting mad rushes and frantic searches of shopping centers, malls and online stores. Big nasty flu bugs, and their cousins are causing sickness in some. Reality shows are rearing the uglier side of the two headed monster now threatening long-standing institutions of poise, service and dignity. Hollywood stars are accusing and being accused, and it seems so many have opinions. Hollywood movie powerhouses are entering the big leagues of politics and first amendment rights in a way not known before with disappointing actions internally and threats from abroad. Many are emotionally drained dealing with debt, depression, lack or lingering pain from the death of loved ones this time of year.

Personally, I’ve come to accept 2014 as one which will go down in the history books being defined by “development” for me. From very unfortunate business dealings I’m still dealing with from my divorce to times of feeling stagnant in my career, finances and personal life, I have gone through, and grown through some interestingly, valuable lessons this year. Not at all to complain or sound whiny, but most of which I would have preferred to skip right on by like a mean game of hopscotch on a hot West End sidewalk.

Just typing all of that made me “feel some type of way” as the modern day youth say. So it strikes me as no surprise how some can get easily distracted during what should be a time of expectation, gratitude, love, joy and peace. I woke up this morning around 2:38am and the words “don’t forget about Jesus” came to me. When I woke up again (for real) around 6:30am, the scripture on my daily devotional was from Luke 2:11-14.

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Here’s the deal. When our birthdays are approaching we usually want and expect all eyes on us, in the most humble of ways, of course. The gifts, the celebrations, and all that good stuff are usually a reflection of the person being celebrated. On December 25, we celebrate the biggest, longest lasting birthday party ever, during the time set aside to mark the most miraculous birth on record for the Greatest guest of Honor in history, and yes, this is still so during this tumultuous time we are all currently in. Regardless of our reality, we are in the season of love and miracles.

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This Christmas more than ever, through our actions, our reactions, the things we think about, the ways we interact, the spirit of expectation we have, our acts of kindness, our personal sacrifices, our fortitude through challenges, our expressions of gratitude and our God-given gumption to hope and believe for miracles should be a reflection of the One who has the power to change things for the better on our behalf.

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Whatever you do this Christmas (and in all the days to come), don’t forget about Jesus Christ.

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@AngelaMMoore316