So much is going on in the world, big and small. Friends, loved ones and colleagues are reeling from politics, surprise separations, health challenges, financial struggles, job transitions and so much more. I don’t recall my prayer list being this long in a long time. Like for real. In the midst of it all, I thank God for His word which promises peace. I will let my Lord and Savior speak to and comfort us instead. I’m so grateful for God’s word, now more than ever.
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.)
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!
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!
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.
@AngelaMMoore316
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!”
@AngelaMMoore316
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.
Hold on for dear life, dear. Hold on.
@AngelaMMoore316
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.
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.
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.
Whatever you do this Christmas (and in all the days to come), don’t forget about Jesus Christ.
@AngelaMMoore316
I arose this morning to the nightmare that is Ferguson, Missouri, USA. The same horrific scenes, seemingly picked from the director’s cut of a high-budget, Sci-fi thriller that I went to bed with are still being repeated and replayed on the morning news and news feeds. Perspectives of varying natures are running as rampant as the looters, the frantic reporters and teargas dodgers, all of whom, have something to say about what happened… or didn’t happen. All the while, this is nestled under the backdrop of a family in mourning and a country in a deeply rooted, boiling over, smoldering, centuries old crisis-come-to-pass.
I wasn’t going to blog about the life or death of Mike Brown, or why black lives matter, why I believe all lives matter, or what I think is the “matter” with law enforcement, or how I feel about the foundation (or shoulders) on which this country was built until I read a Faceboook post which said “enough praying”. Huh? What? Who? Us? Never. And if ever…NOW!
So I pulled, and edited an excerpt from a post I wrote called “The Truth About Trayvon” expressing my feelings about Trayvon Martin, which unfortunately, still sums up my point of view regarding the tragic death of Mike Brown, and the madness which has sadly ensued.
************
I pray that we never forget that it’s God that has the final say so. I pray that the only fires we ignite are ones that bring about an end to senseless violence. I pray we all respect life as much as we expect others to respect it. I pray social media and mainstream media don’t cease covering stories like this until stories like this are no longer around to cover. I pray we champion another cause, and another cause and another cause like Mike Brown’s and bring it to the attention of those in authority. I pray we really learn how to bring about long-lasting, effective change. I pray we don’t become consumed with rage or fear, but use this as fuel to move this nation forward in the spirit of the civil rights activists who transformed our land’s landscape. I pray we stop the “snitches get stitches” or “loot where you live” rules. I pray we don’t turn a blind eye or deaf ear to any stories of mass murders, shooting sprees, school killings, kidnappings, black-on-black crime, white-on-white crime, brown-on-brown crime or any other color of crime for that matter. I pray we never stop fighting for justice and learn to celebrate the victories that have been accomplished, even as we fight for the victories that remain. I pray we no longer take one another for granted, that we hug a little longer, talk a little longer, truly become invested in each other’s lives as a reminder of how essential we are to one another. I pray we use our voice and our vote to stand up for EVERY single life lost, not contribute to lives being lost and not become desensitized or discouraged by the overwhelming amount of lives lost, or any injustice. I pray we don’t give up hope in the good that remains in most people. I pray we don’t operate in judgment or stereotypes, regardless of the color spectrum with which our hue rests. I pray we realize that there are people who look like us that don’t like us and people who don’t look like us who love us, regardless of our race, and not contribute to further building the wall of division and destruction. I pray we become more media savvy, more legally savvy, and more involved in order to do what we need to do to learn how to keep a story alive, and see a case to justice if needed. I pray we learn how to articulate our frustrations through effective open forums, workshops, mentoring, seminars, symposiums, community service, legislation and plain ol’ conversations with each other. I pray we talk about race, really talk about it, with hopes of greater understanding and that in those talks we realize not all people who aren’t like us are against us and get to know each other since we’ll all be here together for as long as we’re here. I pray we don’t forget about the families who have to live after death. I pray we don’t forget to pray for Mike Brown’s family, or Trayvon Martin’s family, or Keveland Wood’s family (my high school sweetheart who was shot in the head by another black teen in 1989), or the Williams family who helped raise me and lost a young man at the hands of the law, or my two best friend’s and their families who both lost their brothers, murdered at the hands of others who looked like them. I pray we remember all the families of others tragically killed at the hands of police or peers as they deal with life “afterwards”. I pray WE PRAY more than ever before, knowing also that faith without works is dead. And once we’re done praying I pray we get up, get out and at least let those men, boys, babies, women and girls who have lost their lives live through our actions, honorable enough to bring about a positive change in us all.
************
So to the notion of “enough praying” my response is “not ever, and certainly not now.” Rest in Peace Mike Brown. Live in Peace America.
@AngelaMMoore316
Yeah, yeah, yeah…I hear you already. I bet you’re thinking, “has she lost her mind?” I know you’re wondering what kind of post is called “Who Gon’ Check Me, Boo?” Well, this one is, but likely it’s not for reasons you might have thought.
The infamous phrase coined by then famous Real Housewives of Atlanta star Sheree Whitfield was spoken during a heated shouting match years ago about something simple that I can’t clearly recall. But in this day and age where people take the liberty to throw their two cents and a side of shade (that’s another word for hate in a more youthful vernacular) in about any, and everything in other people’s lives I propose the we ask ourselves the question, “Who Gon’ Check Me, Boo?”
Don’t fret with trying to come up with an answer. I already have one. We need to CHECK ourselves. From the television media, to magazines, to insta-journalists (those that aren’t still paying student loans or have a degree like others and I to accurately report without bias or opinion), to social media and the likes there is a rapid onslaught of plain ol’ meanness. Some people hate people for not lining up with their personal beliefs, and they have no problem angrily saying it and showing it. Some people label people as “people who hate people” for not agreeing with their personal lifestyle, and they have no problem furiously saying it and showing it. Some people slander people like they’re clocking in earning a living putting people down. While others take delight in the downfall of those who are down like someone else’s down equals their come up. It’s a mess. A mess, I tell ya! The thing about hate is that it never helps anyone. The hater (and I mean the true definition of hater, someone, according to Merriam-Webster with: intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury) may advance, but only for so long, and the in-between and aftermath of what transpires in the lives of those there to witness what happens leave far-reaching effects I’m afraid the world isn’t equipped to handle. Enough already! Or in the (remixed) words of Prince Rogers Nelson, “shut, already, darn!
So I ask you to join me in asking us again, “Who gone check me, boo?” And in the words of Ice Cube (Westsiiiiiiiiiiide), Das EFX or whoever said it first, “You better check yo’ self before you wreck yo’ self.” And in the words of Rodney King (RIP), “Can we, can we all get along? Can we, can we get along?” Peace.
@AngelaMMoore316
Life Gets Better 