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Better Not Bitter

Responding God's Way to Life's Challenges

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Prayer

Love Blindly: Glimpses Through Tears

Yesterday I was reminded of “Glimpses” all day. Perhaps the reminders really began the night prior when I considered the manner to which I would do certain things from now on…whether I would really amp up the action behind the faith I claimed to believe. A message before I arrived at church mentioned how God is not too liberal with the details. Rather, He provides us “glimpses” of what’s to come…our promise…the next step.

I’ve been inundated with glimpses a long time…At least 8 years have passed since I was first introduced to the glimpse of a stage set…the atmosphere was right…I was in my element…Yet, yesterday I almost allowed the last few pieces to not fall inline…

I paced for too long…so long I stayed up too late…I almost allowed myself to be a no show to destiny…but God has a way of snapping us out of our voluntary idleness doesn’t He? And He reminded me of Grace…undeserved…no compensation required…

It’s taken some time for me to get used to this “receiving thing” I suppose if any excuse would suffice, “I’ve tried this love thing before and failed miserably!” And I recalled the message given the night prior, “Not Again.”

Still, even then I tried to make things logical. I tried to further question God’s decision and whether I was hearing Him at all. So He loved me so much He sent an Angel to tell me flatly what I needed to hear. I had already been overwhelmed with emotion because of the song that literally was stuck on my phone the night before, “Covered by Grace” by Israel Houghton…It wouldn’t stop playing…

So I wasn’t expecting to get the response I had to all the questions only God and I could have known were swarming in my head, but He sent her anyway. I was just doing business as usual…desiring to pay someone a compliment…because their energy had encouraged me…Her talks about joining the choir struck me…her reasons for doing so reminded me of my own…how I had been longing to sing again for years, but that God pulled me from my position several years ago to focus on my family. I was obedient then so when the statement arose to just join…I realized that I technically was not a member.

To think it would seem that I was even afraid of committing to a church…in favor of lingering around instead…Kneeling with the concern of a mom she said, “You’ve got so many things going on in your mind. You’re worried about your kids and how this and that is going to work out. Keep it Simple. Know that God has got you covered. You are where you are supposed to be”

And the Dam Broke…I’d been doing okay during the service and worship songs evoke tears from everyone so I wasn’t alone. Yet, with all the fuss after service I was still crying. I said that my tears were of joy, however, I know that it was a mixture of joy and fear of going forward with what my heart couldn’t seem to “turn off” despite my logic.

“Love Blindly”

In that moment…I considered the directive…

Hadn’t that been my problem all along. Hadn’t I given my heart to the wrong somebody too often…hadn’t I risked vulnerability for nothing before?

How do I teach myself to love blindly when I’ve been forced to realize that the love I decided to give to others before had never been reciprocated. Loving blindly got me embarrassed before. Loving blindly hurt before. Loving blindly hyphenated my name twice. In retrospect, I know why I could never really commit to the full name change…I knew neither marriage was right…since the demise of those, I’ve learned at least that much about my decision. I said a few years ago I’d never do that again because who God has for me will be worth the transition and I knew I would be ready because God had been transforming me even then.

I had to come to terms in recent weeks that I had been in love with my ex-husband. I wanted to believe that maybe I’d made up that love in my mind because the peace was never really there. Yet, this love…I know he won’t intentionally hurt me or betray me. This love has been perfected in Christ. I want to receive it, but I really don’t know how.

So why do I still fear the next step? Why am I all of a sudden nervous around him? Why am I all of a sudden speechless…note the irony…

Yet, knowledge has perhaps been my problem. I’m used to having a plan with details…I’m used to knowing the outcome…I’m used to falling in love quickly, but this thing has developed as a slow simmer that I hadn’t even noticed myself until a few months ago.

It would be so much easier to disappear, but his heart deserves better. So I’ve been directed…invited…admonished to love blindly…as long as Christ is my guide, I will make the effort.

©2016 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

NOT Again! Black Lives Still Matter

Hmmm…now I intentionally removed myself from social media for a while to refresh and to focus on my books and other business ventures…yet, in the last few days I’ve allowed myself to  indulge for maybe 30 minutes a day or so to play catch up. I wish I could say that it were not more of the same…yet, with one scroll the other day, I saw what I wish I hadn’t:

The shooting of another unarmed black man!

I said I wouldn’t write about it. Yet, as I attempted to reflect on what it meant to be God’showed beloved. As assigned, I relected on my reading of Tattoos on the Heart, meditate on Jeremiah 31, and spiritually discipline myself to explore one of many specific prayer approaches as assigned, I found fingers vomiting my pain on the keys annyway..so I wrote…I shared…surprisingly, I didn’t cry this time…

As I perused section seven, I was tempted to attach myself to the Breath Prayer again. It was familiar and comfortable.  The labyrinth prayer seemed too complicated while the conversational prayer seemed far less intimate. I’d been a part of an intercessory prayer group a few years ago at my former church. We would meet once a week at 6 am and pray for our neighborhood, the members, the country, specific prayer requests, and the like.  It had been a while since I felt comfortable enough to join a group like that since my move. Yet, a few months ago, I was confronted with a situation that unfortunately mirrors the events of this week to my dismay. I joined hands in prayer during our bible study with those who didn’t look like me for the sake of intercession.

Another unarmed black man was gunned down by police and freedom of speech allowed the world to see it unfold. I wish I hadn’t been privy, but I and millions more were immediately embedded at the scene of the crime.  Crime, yes, it seems a suitable ploy to use deadly force, but since when is having a stalled car a crime? I remarked once before that God knew exactly when to allow me to live because had I lived during slavery, my outspoken butt would have surely been lynched.  I joked about the prospect of something like that happening now at the time, but the eyes in the sky depicted all too well that at least in some people’s minds nooses have all but taken on a different guise; one smaller, faster, and more potent. A bullet is a tiny thing, yet when fired in the wrong direction, it promises to do the heinous job…Hmm the job…Some say the officer was just doing her job, but I wonder when her job description morphed from serving and protecting to killing and neglecting. I wonder whether the bullets that escaped her resolver had merely been in safety mode in her heart for years prior to the moment she killed an unarmed father of four.  

Anger… No, I believe I’m beyond that phase now. I’m numb. I don’t know what’s worse: that I heard about it or that I saw it.  Perhaps it’s the fact that this father was slain quite possibly in front of his own four children…considering how quickly the news spread online I mean. I can only imagine the pain that gripped them.  So do we still have the right to remain silent? Do we have the right to remain aloof? Do we have rights at all in this country who replied “no” so long ago to the chains slavery promised? Oh of course not.  At least I can say that I wouldn’t because as an inevitable consequence, my blackness reminds me daily of the cries of my ancestors slain for just being. So I find myself wondering where I fit into this.  Why I fit into this? How can I get out of this? Where would I escape if I could? I have a son who likes to play basketball at the church near his high school.  There games usually last until after nightfall. I covered him yesterday morning because nightfall and blackness don’t mesh well nowadays. I even found myself smiling in relief that even at 18 he seemed more engulfed with video games than being outside. At least on video games the guns and blood spilled won’t require a eulogy when the game is over. Yet, Terrance was executed in broad daylight wasn’t he? So while I originally thought my prayer would be a breath prayer, I found myself breathless when I saw the footage. There were no words save, “My God!” I cringe at the thought that one day I could get that call or worse that I wouldn’t have to get the call because it would be plastered online and on the news.  My daughter said a while ago that if she had a loved one to die in some public and horrible way that she would not want to hear about it every time the same thing happens to another person.  She mentioned that those mourning the loss are inevitably trapped in a vicious cycle of perpetual grief because when Terrance was killed so was Alton.  And still when Sterling was murdered so was Philando and the list goes on. Oh wow, I almost forgot, the latest was Keith.  So my prayers this week have reluctantly transformed from breathless sighs to heart-piercing cries for intervention! I am sickened by the reality of which I live when I see direct evidence proving that Boyle’s pages are perhaps futile attempts to change that “lurking suspicion that some lives matter less than other lives.” Yet, I find safety in the knowledge that despite the carnage and disruption of culture and character in our nation, God’s word in Jeremiah 31 gave me hope that we would know Him intimately in the aftermath; that He would not punish us for the sins of our forefathers.

So with mercy that has been afforded me by my loving Heavenly Father I digress and choose to not do the same to those who do not share my skin’s hue. I recall the time when God first arrested my attention with the word that gave meaning to my last name. Beloved. When it was posed initially, it was a question. Will you be loved? In time I learned to receive and I agreed to be loved.  Now my prayer is how to show my nation to do the same.

 

 

Do Black Lives Really Matter?

  1. I heard about another shooting and I was again hesitant to look up the details.   I had good reason, but how could I avoid it. Alton Sterling’s picture was plastered everywhere. The video capturing his murder quickly going viral…the outrage escalating…the pain eminating through a people…silently and aloud: Do Black lives really matter? Alas, a notable pastor’s words served as my alarm. His words stung more than salt in an open wound…rather the impact sizzled as if I were one of the thousands of slugs on the sidewalk of our color-blindless society…a culture bred by hate with a motive to search and destroy…but weren’t we found here against our will anyway…were any of us ever really granted permission to dwell here…to work here…to live here…to fear here? To kill or be killed here? We as a people have made due…we’ve climbed latters where rungs were added to impede our ascent…we’ve endured lashings with the tongue and with whips…and this is what we came here for? We aren’t bullet-proof…ad they know it…there’s no superman to deflect a bullet…once released, it adheres to its assignment…it searches and destroys…the heart, the mind, the family, the culture…to a lone bullet..Do black lives really matter?
  2. The words burn because they are true…pictures don’t lie, but the verdict of cases passed tell another story…rather, I suppose even a lie is truth so long as you believe it…Grief has its place, but what happens when grief has no target…in a time where our society should be flooded with supposed upstanding civil servants we are faced with a reality quite the contrary. Does the mere presence of a black man give credence to “the kill or be killed” excuse that so many are claiming after candid camera reveals what really happened? Should a mistake be a large enough bandaid to heal the gaping hole between race relations now? I’m seriously disturbed because just last week my own son was in Baton Rouge. Now I realize why my brother reminded me to ensure he had ID before I sent him to work at the Essence Festival with him. His words make too much sense now but not enough…”yea…you don’t want to be a black dude around New Orleans with no ID.” Would the mere reason be to identify a body? MY GOD!!! How many have to die! I almost wrote about BLUE LIVES MATTER WHEN I HEARD ABOUT THE AMBUSH OF THE OFFICER LAST YEAR…I never got around to it because news of “our” cases took my attention. Now I’m glad I didn’t. It’s not that the lives of officers don’t matter..in fact I have a few friends in law enforcement…it’s just not the same…there’s no invisible system in place to take cops out for any reason out of the blue…Yet, this seems largely the case with black lives. It seems that as once before, those with hatred in their hearts for blacks have traded their sheets, hoods, and horses for titles,badges, and squad cars…news of Alton Sterling’s murder hurts my soul, but sadly I’m not surprised. It makes me wonder what will be said in the new history books of black lives..stories like Emmit Till and Nat Turner missed notoriety when I was in highschool…I only learned of them later…I wonder if that will be the case for my children’s children with Travonne Martin, Michael Brown, Alton Sterling and every other black life taken in between because at least to racist cops, apparently these black lives just didn’t matter. Continue reading “Do Black Lives Really Matter?”

Just Be

So today before I could get out of bed I cried out. I admitted with silent tears that “I don’t know what I’m doing…what I am to do…I don’t know the next step!

Deflated. I gathered what was left of myself and painted.  I painted my face to hide my frustration …of not knowing and not trusting as I had before.

I couldn’t allow my children to see that me…the one who couldn’t  get it together. I’m tired of starting over, but transition has been my perpetuality– I know it’s not Webster’s word…so it will at least be mine if only for a moment.  So little is mine now.

In the 7 months since leaving the familiar, I’ve lived in 4 different places.  The place I’d sought I thought I found before. It was the wrong thing. The wrong person. It was in myself at one point…in my fiance at another…in my employer, but not in God.

I admit I failed My Lord.

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Still He keeps me. Still He loves me. Still He comforts my soul with echoes of unconditional.

I am loved. I am His. He has never left me…never forsaken me…while I forsook Him by trying to do me…but I never actually got that right either.  You see because for a while I thought doing “me” meant doing religious activity…attending events…being where I was expected to be

Not so.  I only needed to but Be.

I wondered why again He’d chose me for such an insurmountable task…why He chose me to bring such a huge vision to so many…and again I was reminded to Just Be Loved. To just Let Go.  To Just Be Me.  

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I considered the thing.  To Just Be Me.  To Just Be Real. To Just Be.

I believe I will.

©2016 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

Not Quite Homeless

As I braved the bitter temperatures arresting my face and hands this morning I felt thankful and saddened in an instant. That feeling lasted a little longer than I wanted. So I continued about the business of moving things from my car to another temporary residence.

home

My second trip indoors was harder than my first in that I couldn’t prevent the tears of gratitude and frustration. Thankful that I had somewhere warm and even comfortable to rest my head…to rest my worries…to rest assured that yes, my son’s faith was right again….His words, “relax mom, a lot can happen in a week.”

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Indeed a lot had happened in the week that proceeded this day….for me…for us…within a week I had been given a deadline to get my act together…had been told no on so many occasions that I considered again why so many people in my state had chosen to give up on everything. I had been accepted to seminary, had been graced to have mounds of debt super-naturally removed…had my faith in Christ renewed…had my purpose through Him defined…Yes, so much had transpired.

Still on the day commemorating the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and his dream of peace and equality, I can’t help but consider those who feel  the blight regardless of their race, national origin, religious affiliation, or gender….those drafted into a reality they never chose…my homeless brothers and sisters.

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My heart breaks and at least now I know that one of spiritual gifts is giving…yet even in my generosity I’ve been warned against giving too much…doing too much…all I feel is that I can’t do enough…

In the passed 13 years have indeed been filled with many humbling experiences…Even in those, I realize now why I have had to take so many tests over again.

I had yet to consider my ways

Haggai 1:5-7(ESV)

Now, therefore, thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways. You have sown much, and harvested little. You eat, but you never have enough; you drink, but you never have your fill. You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm. And he who earns wages does so to put them into a bag with holes.

“Thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways.

I’d been brought back to the same passages year after year, but pride had me considering I had it together. I guess when I consider the blank monotony of religion itself, I did.  I was nothing more than a modern day Pharisee when things were going well for me…all head knowledge but still failing to acknowledge the importance of the valley for myself and others.

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Within a year, I’ve learned that only those who have been in the valley are able to lead others out…only those who have experienced the pain of rejection and disdain of indifference can encourage others to keep moving forward.

So I understand now. I’m excited about the ones who I will bring out with me.

I still have no physical place to call my own since leaving the home and life I knew in Little Rock, but I know that this place is exactly where  I need to be right now.

homeless Jesus

Game Over-God Doesn’t Play Games

Sorry for the delay in posting this…I really meant to get this done the day it happened, I still think it’s definitely timely info though so here goes…

Well, in my last post, I mentioned that my son could possibly get suspended for protesting the mistreatment of a fellow student.

Okay…here’s the short version of what happened…yes…there  were some students who were suspended…my son was not one of them, but in all honesty I forgot to get him a wife beater so while he sagged it was not as noticeable.  Regardless, I was still proud of him for the thought of it…but that wasn’t the big news that had me sidetracked that night…

It was what he shared before he told me about the suspensions.

He, my daughter, and his best friend met me in the garage before I could pull in; my son was yelling about a demon…about not telling something named Charlie to leave…that I was right …his game was possessed.

I’m sure I said that about that system on more than one occasion, however, about 2 am that morning was the most recent time I recalled.  The game was supposedly powered off, but the disk drive was opening and closing on its own.

He was unprepared, but he played the game.  His friend played it too and now there was blood.

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They were frantic and I was concerned. Immediately I assumed that something in my home was broken and because my neighbor’s son was the one holding the blood drenched tissues to his face, I surmised  a liability was on the horizon too. (Hey…not that I didn’t care about him, but that’s just the first thing that came to mind).

Before I could exit the car my son opened the passenger side door and I heard his friend’s muffled words,  “he made my nose bled…he gave me a bloody nose!”

“For real mama, it’s Charlie! He made his nose bleed.  It’s a demon!  The lights won’t even come on in the living room now.  I forgot to tell Charlie to leave! ” my son said.

I don’t know what had me more disturbed…the possibility of a demon in my home or that he lacked the faith to drive it out if that were the case.

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I said to my son,”Do you know who you are and whose you are? Why don’t you believe that the Jesus in you is stronger than any demon?”

“I do believe…we were trying to cast him out…I mean we were saying that we rebuke it in the name of Jesus! And it got worse. We started video taping it. I’m not playing.” he said.

His best friend warned that he can only show me a clip of it because of their language.

I braced myself and decided to see the whole video  anyway.  So I withheld my  judgement.

No, I’m not posting the video either…not for embarrassment’s sake, but I have no intention of glorifying any being But God…that’s that on that…

They mentioned that the power was out in my living room but that the Xbox was still going haywire.  While any number of logical notions could explain this, I know demons are real and I know you don’t play with them.

Neither should you play with the name of Jesus.images (29)

I immediately recalled two accounts of demon possession gone wrong in the bible: The first one was where the disciples of Jesus were unable to cast out the demon that possessed a boy and Jesus chastised them for unbelief.  The latter was the seven sons of sceva where the demon possessed man whooped those boys because they were basically playing with the name of Jesus. Essentially, they didn’t really know Him…they knew “of Him.”

In that account, the demon spoke up and plainly acknowledged that it didn’t recognize them…considering the fear in my son’s eyes and the bloody nose his friend was nursing I assumed they had been guilty of the same.  They knew of Jesus but didn’t grasp the full authority of His name because perhaps like the disciples, they too didn’t fully believe.

AWESOME LEARNING OPPORTUNITY

I explained that where the HOLY SPIRIT dwells, darkness CANNOT abide.  I was not worried and I was proud of my Heavenly Father for that.  I considered it a test of my own faith and proof for their benefit…

John 11:42 (NLT)

42 You always hear me, but I said it out loud for the sake of all these people standing here, so that they will believe you sent me.”

Needless to say when I walked in my house, I flipped the lights in my living room on with ease and the game had not been going crazy like they claimed.  I’m not saying this from a self-righteous or arrogant place, but definitely a confident one.  I know the power that God has placed within me to also cause demons to tremble and flee…after all didn’t Jesus state that “greater works will you do.” (I’m paraphrasing, but here’s the scripture)

Not long after giving both the boys a lesson on those scriptures, his friend went home, and this sister went ole’ school…yep…bless oil and all…I prayed and thanked God for His protection…anointed every nook and cranny including my kids and my two dogs…images (14)

Later that night, the Lord placed it on my daughter’s heart to tell me to read Psalm 91.  I read it and reaffirmed my belief that because of my submission to God, demons must flee.  While  I expected a little more from my son, I’m glad everything happened as it did because he learned that  while demons exist, they still are no match for the believer who understands the power of the name of Jesus.

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Considering this, just perhaps it was the catalyst needed to spur him to get to know Jesus for himself instead of just knowing about Him through me.

©2015 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

Newsflash: God Loves Homosexuals Too!!!

So this morning I’ve found myself more grateful for the gift of boldness I’ve been given. I suppose I have edited my comments on this subject too…by keeping quiet, but that would be too easy so here goes something.

Disclaimer:  By the way, from now on I’ve decided to not edit my posts until after the first run…I’m still a little nit picky, but this freeing “lack of activity” is helping me to actually let loose and reach my goals instead of writing and re-writing post after post without actually publishing them-For the Record, I have more drafts than posts-so yes, it’s A NECESSITY…anyway…grammarians beware…I know better, but out of the heart flows the issues of life so…

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I love how God connects the dots of our lives.  So about the same-sex marriage issue, homosexuality, gay pride, and all the other terms that have been thrown around in the media yet eerily hushed in the church…I believe the issue at hand is a matter of ignorance and pain not hatred…indeed fear and anger…no bigotry…well at least not most of the cases I’ve observed.

Now granted there are some STUPID PEOPLE out there who have physically hurt and even killed those who identify themselves as a part of the LGBT community as their dumb attempt to so call “cleanse” our world of who they feel don’t belong….

Hmm sounds so familiar doesn’t it?  Oh yeah, that’s how that whole racism/slavery/civil rights uproar started huh?

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There are some who argue that some people are born homosexual.  Until about three weeks ago, I would have disagreed.  I’ll explain in the next post in this inevitable series.

There are others who say that the lifestyle is a choice.  I was one of those people before. In the cases of the people I know who are openly “gay,” they admitted it was their choice…albeit involuntary…still a choice…I’ll explain that in an upcoming post too.

If you haven’t noticed a little trend here, there is A WHOLE LOT MORE TO SAY ABOUT THIS ISSUE …so the confines of one measly post wouldn’t do it justice so I rather than to go off on a million tangents in this one, I’ve deemed it necessary to expand this area….

That said, I do encourage your comments-good or bad because I know that God’s called me to be a voice in this area for some strange reason…I say “strange” because I’ve never been on the other side of the fence if you will…images (8)

However until I gather more information…testimonies…stories and news…

Well that’s it…I don’t really know the direction that God is going with this yearning, but I know that it will be all good in the end so I’m going with that.

Did I ask for this?

In a word:

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Okay that was three, but you know what I mean#smirk

However, this has been on my heart for quite some time and within the last few weeks I’ve been bombarded with it whether I want to go there or not…

Feeling some kinda way right now…ms_jonah(1)

Well, I guess that’s not the best example considering that Jonah hated the people that he had been called to help.

That’s so not me…as much as I’d like to strangle a few folk every now and again for the silly things they do and say, I hate no one. Rather, since I was a child, my heart has bled for the broken…

God touched my heart a couple weeks ago when He whispered to me that He wanted me to minister to “another” type of broken people…

…Not just those women impacted by sexual abuse or domestic violence, not just those ladies who felt jilted by love, and not even just those children who found themselves involuntarily caught in the crossfire of chaos…but a broken that I never felt like I understood…a broken people that though I was ignorant of many of the struggles they may or may not face, have always had a special place in my heart and mind…

I admit…I have been disturbed by some of the things I’ve heard and seen, but I’m still sitting on the fence as to whose actions have had me more shocked as of late…images (19)

There are some Christians who are on the down low.

There are some Christians that are just low-down when it comes to the way they treat others regardless of sexual “orientation” or “preference.”

Regardless, everything I just mentioned is and always has been a moot point.

That said. I do believe that marriage is only marriage when the two involved are one man and one woman.

However, as a Christian there are some things that we must consider about God’s character:

 God is Love: 

1 Corinthians 13:4-8 New International Version (NIV)

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.

Since God is love, I submit that He LOVES everyone! And yes that includes HOMOSEXUALS!!!

Now I’m sure that I’ve probably gotten a bunch of snarls and gasps by that last comment.  Who knows? Perhaps I may even get un-friended or un-followed for typing that, but I really don’t care. After all Jesus was ostracized for spitting the the truth so I’m still in good company.

Anyway…back to the subject at hand…

While real love is unconditional, it is not often exemplified in a manner that allows one to have his or her own way.  Ask any attentive parent that question.

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We as Christians must learn to relax in the right way!  Now with all the stories coming out about this person and that person who just “came out” it seems that our world is too preoccupied by the commercials instead of focusing on the program at hand.

Perhaps we are so caught up at times in hating the sinner that we forget that we too have fallen short of God’s glory, albeit in other ways possibly, but still just as sinful as our homosexual counterparts.

Jesus didn’t come to condemn the world but to save it.  Did we forget that part, church?

No, that does not mean that it’s time to allow two men or two women to be married in our churches, but if a couple comes in arm and arm and your first thought is to snarl, consider not just what Jesus would do, but consider what He did do.  Not to mention what He still does, through His Holy Spirit for you today!!!

When He clothed Himself in our flesh, He was constantly verbally attacked by religious leaders until yest their rage incited physical attacks, and ultimately death because He  was considered to have consorted with those who were “Sinners.”  But He Did Rise Again!!!

Is anything too hard for God? No, but it seems that the simplest things like loving one another is so hard for us doesn’t it.

Are you the one who denies that family member access to your child because you fear the “influence”- Disclaimer-There are some folk that will molest kids so I understand protection, but there is a better way to explain things to them. I know full well that it was no coincidence that our broadcast aired this info right when God had placed it on my heart to pen this post…

I’m humbled and grieved…

Yet, I am thankful that there are authors and speakers out there like Sean McDowell teaching that better way…God’s way…the loving way to address this overwhelming shift in our culture.

For the Record>>>>>

We all are sinners…the only difference between your sin and that of a brother or sister in Christ who may struggle with same-sex attraction is that your sin is not displayed like a scarlet letter.

I have a question for you.  All things considered, if you know better…want to do better…try to do better, but every time you fail, it’s stamped on your forehead, would you at some point just give up trying?  I would. So perhaps that is what many of our sons, daughters, cousins, brothers, aunts, uncles, and even mothers and fathers have taken to heart.

Though the decision being discussed in the Supreme Court might strike an uneasy cord in our nation today, consider that the reason this is happening is because so many of God’s children have forgotten that a threefold cord is not easily broken.  Perhaps when we get together and include God’s real point of view in this matter as well as so many others, we too we be able to love as He so unconditionally does.

©2015 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

My Prayer for Today and Everyday

….Just in Awe of My God’s Grace, Mercy, and Redemptive Power…REPOST

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank You so much for…

answering my prayer…

helping me re-examine my life as a mother, sister, and daughter…

renewing my mind…

giving me hope in every area of my life…

Thank You for the journey and for Your provision…

God, You are mighty!

Thank You for strengthening me and allowing me to be willing to do what needs to be done as a mother…

Thank you for helping me realize that I have a choice in how I will react to my circumstances

Thank You for renewing my faith…

Thank you for cleansing my mind and my conscience…

Thank you for giving me accountability partners…

Your Divine hand is on my life and I am so grateful…

I realize where I’ve gone wrong in the past and I thank you for reminding me

that in spite of me, You love me.

In Jesus’s name I pray. Amen.

Are You Choking on Unforgiveness?

If I remained in complete denial of my condition, I could easily chop up my excessive coughing lately to spring fever.  I mean things are in bloom now so that would be a great excuse.

But I know better and hopefully after reading this post, you will too!

I really thought I was over this unforgiveness thing…especially given the gracious nature of God towards me.  Yet, like Peter, I often find myself asking, “Lord, how many times should I forgive my brother/sister who has wronged me?”

For those who might be a tad fuzzy on the text…basically Peter requests this answer of Jesus considering that 7 times is enough based on the Jewish customs of the time. Jesus’ response was basically seventy times 7 and for those who take things literally, I warn you…please don’t in this instance. Continue reading “Are You Choking on Unforgiveness?”

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