Posts Tagged ‘death’

It’s tragedies like these that have the world questioning God’s existence.

oregon-shooting-victims-promo-image-180

…questioning how any good could come from such a murderous rampage.  So a moment of silence is offered in remembrance of those slain…I intended an entirely different post for today, but tragedy doesn’t seem to care about other’s agendas so I digress the norm for this somber yet alarming note.

A moment of silence…not a prayer…just silence…Vigils are held across the nation in their honor…yet just a moment of silence…Oh of course just silence….that’s the only way to remain PC isn’t it?  So unbelievers aren’t offended…but what about the believer’s offense?

My daughter was offended this morning…the media coverage simply rubbed her the wrong way….rather, it might have even been the right way in retrospect…

“Nobody wants the world to know their kid is dead”

She said it emphatically so I lowered the radio’s volume and tuned into her instead.  Her tone intrigued me so I listened and she continued,

” It’s bad enough that it happened-they will never get the time to heal because ten years from now it will be an anniversary and media coverage will make them relive the loss all over again!”

She was right.  The reality of those who’d endured the tragic loss of their loved ones were forced to relive the events even with the news of this shooting…the media inevitably must revisit these things.  It’s for that reason I’ve chosen not to even mention the specific mass shootings in public places of months, years, and even decades passed.

You undoubtedly know about them. a few are still in litigation so yes my daughter was correct.  Families and friends of the loss are forced to relive the events again and again with each passing day because tragedy is constant in media.

So we as believers are forced to reflect on questions like:

“How could God allow this?”

“Why didn’t God prevent this?”

And more of God’s children become angry with His justice. The assailant perished but how many more bodies will be added to his count before week’s end…Yes, blood continues to flow in the veins of those who were physically injured, but still a deadness is inevitable in their souls…at least momentarily…Perhaps not…maybe the survivors will be strong enough to understand the reason they were spared was because the Father “gave His angels charge over them

Perhaps some will consider it luck because they simply don’t know any better.  Regardless, only time will tell the effects both positive and negative in terms of yesterday’s events in Oregon.

I’m reminded of a somewhat funny quote a friend shared with me a few days ago after hearing the Pope’s address…”I’m not gonna lie, I’m gonna be mad as hell if I was killed and get to heaven and see my murderer there!”  Don’t judge-Real Talk…no filters!!!

We laughed, but her analysis deserves ground now especially because that’s the very obstacle that many believers struggle with now.  Of course, this shooter supposedly targeted Christians …yet so did the Apostle Paul before his conversion.  If this 26 year old killing machine repented and said he believed in Jesus, would he too be in heaven with the slain?

Scripture tells us he would if that were indeed the case…that is if his heart were sincere…We must be secure in our faith regardless because God knows the heart even when we don’t.  That’s what matters in that arena…

Regardless, I’m sure many of those who shed tears for for the other lives lost have smiled at the news of the assailant’s passing whether Christian or not…before either we are human.  and oftentimes our humanity speaks louder than the spirit man if we are not regularly immersed in the word.  Even then, we fall.  I could speculate that this man busted the gates of hell wide open when he failed to take his last breath….Yet, I don’t know that to be true…Only God does.  Regardless, my job as a Christian is not to know the why or the how of God’s will, but to trust that whatHe allows will have more good for the innocents than bad.  My prayer now is that we as a nation and world quickly recognize that and govern ourselves accordingly.

©2015 Nadia Davis.  All Rights Reserved.

I posted this little note this morning on Facebook after reading the following headline:

WHITE GUNMAN CAUGHT IN KILLING OF 9 IN HISTORIC BLACK CHURCH

I’m more disturbed by the headline of this article than its content. Despite the facts that 9 black lives were lost to a white assailant, we need not make this a race issue…it’s purely an evil issue…a demonic issue…satan’s attempt to further divide the Kingdom of God…yes black lives matter, but so do all other races…this is not a reason for civil war, but civil prayer, humility, and trust in the one true God.

race

I implore the saints of God to not cower in fear or attempt to retaliate by this world’s weapons…for we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but the spiritual wickedness.

ephesians

On the surface for the minority, this incident might appear as if it’s a race issue, but that’s clearly what the enemy desires us to think.  While the skin on the outside differs from race to race, when blood is spilled it’s all one color: RED!  God doesn’t want any to perish… His love is unconditional and it provides unimaginable peace in situations like this.  While the families of the slain grieve the loss, our Heavenly Father is grieved as well..not by the enemy’s actions…that’s possibly the only consistency in the evil one: to kill, steal, and destroy…it’s no surprise, yet God is grieved by our response…our response to His ability to provide…His ability to avenge on our behalf…His ability to yet turn this tragedy for the good of those who love Him and are the called according to His purpose….

images

Facebook family, I urge that you not grieve our Father by engaging in racial wars online or otherwise as a result of this as in times past…satan’s bold and it’s time for the. Church to be bolder…to humble ourselves before God, turn from our wicked ways, and then He will hear from Heaven and heal our land. I really didn’t expect this to be this long, but I’m being obedient…so fb what’s your response to God’s ability?‪#‎smh‬#1somuchbetter#Godwillrepay#VengeanceisHis

listening to God’s voice alone.

I’ve tweaked my words a bit for clarity since this morning and added the pics for flow, but I originally shared the article with my thoughts in hopes that some would not do what was assumed.
slurs
While some have maintained silence or opted to offer prayer -at least online about this tragedy- I logged on a few moments ago to something expected, but completely avoidable…the cursing, the racial slurs, the back-biting, and most disheartening the blatant refusal to offer prayer…mind you these were comments posted by those who by all other accounts could be considered Christian. Rather, some who claimed to be Christian.
People have a right to make their own decisions, but I can’t reiterate enough how that behavior is just what the enemy wants…division…for those who might have been unsure about the love of Christ to further think Christianity as hypocritical.  I almost unfriended some of these individuals because of their comments.  I’m glad I didn’t because I realize that not long ago, I would have likely made the same comments in anger or in ignorance had I not been enlightened.

Hebrews 6:1-12 (NLT)

So let us stop going over the basic teachings about Christ again and again. Let us go on instead and become mature in our understanding. Surely we don’t need to start again with the fundamental importance of repenting from evil deeds[a] and placing our faith in God. You don’t need further instruction about baptisms, the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. And so, God willing, we will move forward to further understanding.

For it is impossible to bring back to repentance those who were once enlightened—those who have experienced the good things of heaven and shared in the Holy Spirit, who have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the power of the age to come— and who then turn away from God. It is impossible to bring such people back to repentance; by rejecting the Son of God, they themselves are nailing him to the cross once again and holding him up to public shame.

When the ground soaks up the falling rain and bears a good crop for the farmer, it has God’s blessing. But if a field bears thorns and thistles, it is useless. The farmer will soon condemn that field and burn it.

Dear friends, even though we are talking this way, we really don’t believe it applies to you. We are confident that you are meant for better things, things that come with salvation. 10 For God is not unjust. He will not forget how hard you have worked for him and how you have shown your love to him by caring for other believers,[b] as you still do. 11 Our great desire is that you will keep on loving others as long as life lasts, in order to make certain that what you hope for will come true. 12 Then you will not become spiritually dull and indifferent. Instead, you will follow the example of those who are going to inherit God’s promises because of their faith and endurance.

I’m grateful for God’s grace with me and I’m not putting myself on a pedestal because when I saw it I was angry too.  Yet, while anger rose, My Savior in me rose higher.  Had this issue happened closer to home, I can’t say my reaction would be the same.  Regardless, I’m still grieved at the what I consider satan’s way of tricking us into corporate genocide.

tv

Times like these make me wish I knew the time or the date when Jesus would return. It makes me long for a home free of all this death.

©2015 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

I’ll edit this later…just flowing from the heart…

I used to say “I didn’t have a good example when I grew up.”  It was my excuse.  I suppose I felt less guilty for my own shortcomings as a parent by blaming my mother for the woes I’d experienced.  Yet, now I realize how untrue that statement was.

There were good days with my mother. That truth has allowed me to now cherish those good times I shared with her more.

No, my mother didn’t teach me to cook or sew.  Experimenting with Betty Crocker recipes and Girl Scouts did that.  Yet she allowed me to play in her hair and play dress up in her clothes when I was little just because she could.

While I’m aware of the times I’ve missed the imaginary mark of motherhood, I simply refuse to demonize myself or my mother for what either of us lacks because I know God makes no mistakes.  While we cannot choose our family members, He chose them long before we were ever conceived.  Now I can say that I am so grateful for the gift He gave me in my mother and as I type these words I understand why saying goodbye isn’t as hard as I might have thought it would be.

I received a call after midnight from my brother.  I was asleep so I wasn’t aware of it until about 6 am.  He’d left a message, but somehow before I listened to it, I already knew what he struggled to say those few seconds the machine allowed.

Mama passed away not a half hour before he picked up the phone to reach me. 

I hadn’t cried in two months over the thoughts of a lost childhood…over resentment of what might have been…I surmised even after hearing the news recorded that I still would not do so.  Yet, when I called my brother back and discussed what was evident and what needed to take place in the coming week, I found my words losing fluency. Choppy and forced, I allowed them to flow…not out of necessity or regret, but joy in her transition.

Last I saw her, she was in pain…yet still able to smile when she recognized her likeness standing over her. As a child, I’d always been called her shadow for two reasons: I was always two steps behind her and the main differences between us visually were time and complexion…I prayed then that her pain would cease…knowing that mine had already. I am indeed grateful for the time I’ve had both as a child before things seemed to have gone awry.

Before that time, I’d told a friend that I’m choosing to remember the good a while ago, but in reality, at the time, I couldn’t stop myself from only remembering the bad.  I was in a rut and I allowed that to dictate my life for a while…for too long…so long that my own role as a parent had begun to wane.

Her Goods-

Having never earned a driver’s license, she never allowed that deficiency stop her from taking us with her every Saturday somewhere…to the movies…to the fair…to the mall…downtown…to the Orpheum–Mama, I want to sing at 6 years old-my love for music was ignited– to see plays because she wanted to make sure my brother and I were “cultured.”

I used to think the reason she had us taking lessons for violin and cello,  Spanish, computer, and even tap after school was so she could get a break, but I understand now that she wanted only to ensure that he and I couldn’t be denied one later.

I have a new appreciation for Ode to Joy!!!

I still remember the red booths at Woolworth’s we’d claim and the flavor of the buttery kernels that seemed popped just for us.  They would melt in your mouth.  Back then a dollar could stretch much farther.

Although she had her bachelor’s in education, she opted to teach us more at home instead of others’ children in school.  She chose to work only part-time for many years and was always there when my brother and I arrived from school.  Single motherhood was worn well on her in those early years…those years I had taken for granted as I grew because for some reason she and I became distant.

Anger took over where love never meant to leave off…I couldn’t understand why it seemed she loved the “little me” so much, but hated what I was growing to become.

I realize now that what I deemed as hatred was just not so.  Rather, her fear of not being enough fed her fury.  Her fear that someone would hurt me as she’d been hurt consumed her. I didn’t know it initially that she’d been taken against her will.  A fit of rage spilled those details and gave me a clue.  Still, at that age, I couldn’t understand.  I didn’t try. I had never known anyone to have been raped before so there was no way that I could relate. Instead, I filed it along with the other displaced memories I’d vacated years ago.  A chance encounter with a photo album would reveal more of her puzzle without anyone overhead saying a word.   Back then, “issues” weren’t discussed so they were held in with massive consequences.

The result- an inevitable implosion or explosion…there were many casualties…but I’ve considered even those the result of involuntary manslaughter now.  Eighteen years of solitary confinement was long enough to suffer, to re-group, to rehabilitate a soul.  She too had been bent, infirmed, desperate for relief.

I believe 2 months ago I received that relief…Yesterday, she finally received hers. So while I dab at tears I’d once denied permission to flow, I revel at the cleansing power they possess.  My joy had indeed been renewed.

My Heavenly Father knew the day would come when I would finally realize the gift He provided me. She did the best she could…

She nurtured the love of words in me long ago.  I remember I denied the desire to write because even at 7 years old, my strong will fought for independence.  I wanted to do my own thing.  Yet, the more I tried to distance myself from what she had already claimed of me…a poet…a writer…I fell back into the comfort of this calling…words…I escaped through the words of a story…I calculated the words from another’s mouth…I practiced over and over until my penmanship was perfected because I loved words and the way they took a life of their own on a page…my mother was a lover of words too I suppose.  Although she’d often comment how her writing was intolerably cruel for the reader to decipher as the scribbling she owned resembled a foreign language, she still fostered a love of them by quizzing my brother and I every chance she got.  She’d read to us often.  My choice was to have the books read at least twice before I could go to sleep. She always happily obliged.  Only later would I realize why she did it anyway despite how tired she had been of the story itself and how exhausted she’d been herself.

No Regrets

I had planned to see her yesterday, but…

Just but…the excuses don’t matter now…I know I’ll see her again…I’m glad that I understand God’s plan and that I don’t have the guilt of “what if” to deal with anymore.

So even now, I choose to honor her by the good she did, she was, and the good she intended.  There’s no need to say goodbye so I’ll just say, “See you later, mama!”

10457531_895065450526603_7539515781571468610_n

Gone for now, but never forgotten!

©2015 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

I can’t forget the day my friend collapsed at work. I was ready for my 15 minutes of freedom, but an area manager stopped me at the break room door and shooed me away without a word.  But it was already too late.  I’d already seen her.

I backed up, turned, and followed the wall for my place. I rested my forehead there as I attempted to salvage the precious minutes remaining in prayer.

I was interrupted.

My desire had been a prayer of healing, but my attention was diverted by the passing gurney.   Sandwiched between two paramedics, it’s destination had been where I’d just been I’d just been forbidden.  There was no rush. As if reaching her didn’t matter, their stride wasn’t even a leisure jog. They took their time. Immediately my mind and prayer shifted to what my mind had already confirmed the moment I laid eyes on who used to be my friend so  I prayed for her children to make it without her. I prayed especially for her son who had just gone to the prom and was the youngest.

She was in her early forties…

Today, I remembered her words about her son just months before that fateful day.  “Ooh, I don’t know what my son is going to do without me?”  I wasn’t aware then of the condition of her heart.  Later, I discovered that she had become ill because she was taking on too much. I was sick when the news was of her passing because I considered her one of my spiritual mentors.  She sat two seats away and she kept my mind uplifted with many stories of God’s grace regularly.  I’ve held the events of that day in the back of mind for a log time. I miss her still, but what happened to her and the devestation that transpired in her home without her has concerned me a lot more lately.

Though not manifested physically, remembering the circumstances of my friend’s premature passing led me to consider the impact stress has had on my own heart.   I’d allowed my circumstances to harden it so instead of getting closer to my Father…I was further than ever.  Thankfully, God’s given me an offer I can’t refuse. I realize I cannot fix my heart alone so I’ve submitted myself to the Great Physician. Since my life and the lives of my children depend on the condition of my heart, I’m grateful that God is my pace-maker.

©2014 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.