Posts Tagged ‘grace’

On the heels of two blessings I was not expecting, the enemy tried again and thought he’d won, but never. I thank God for His word and reminding me that I have no business allowing the enemy to blindside me with foolishness. I was reminded that life and death is in the power of the tongue. I found myself saying things and thinking things I knew were not true of my seed…Pain can make you do and say stupid stuff. Yet, I refuse to allow the enemy to dissuade me from what My God already showed me. My Father is faithful. My Father promised me life more abundantly so I suppose the enemy was running out of options yet again. I know God is my provider and my father…He is even my husband in this season and my children’s father as well. Yes, the battlefield is the mind, but I’m strapped and covered from head to toe with all that God provides for my protection. I rejoice in the knowledge that God is in control and that HE alone directs my paths. I refuse to allow my mind to succumb to worry or doubt period. My son and daughter are successful and are blessings sent directly from my Father.

Heavenly Father,

Thank You for giving me the ability to give the devil a black eye with my smile. Father, thank You for restoring the years that were destroyed by the canker worm. Thank You for preparing me for this transition. Thank You for allowing me to be wise in every decision from here forward. Thank You for allowing me the charge to pray for the Man of God. Thank You for my future husband and our ministry. Thank You for the ministry that You have allowed Your angels to provide to me in this moment and every other moment my flesh seeks to outweigh my spirit. Thank You for always reminding me that GREATER IS HE IN ME THAN HE THAT IS IN THE WORLD. THANK YOU FOR BLESSING ME AND ALLOWING ME TO BE A BLESSING. THANK YOU FOR LOVING ME SO MUCH DADDY! THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING ME THE COMFORT OF YOUR ARMS. THANK YOU FOR NOT ALLOWING MY FOOT TO STUMBLE AND THANK YOU FOR ALLOWING THE CALL YOU HAVE ON MY LIFE TO HELP OTHERS WHO HAVE STUMBLED UP TO THEIR FEET!!! GLORY TO YOUR NAME! THANK YOU FOR MY CONFIDENCE! THANK YOU FOR DETERMINATION. THANK YOU FOR GRACE. THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME THAT I AM THE APPLE OF YOUR EYE! THANK YOU FOR FAVORING ME IN SPITE OF ME!

YOUR LOVELY DAUGHTER,

SO IT ALL IS

I’m sure I’d heard of the term “reconstruction” before, but when the gentlemen I spoke with the other day mentioned it referring to several home remodeling projects in the area, I understood things intimately. I began writing a post some time ago about being under construction.

However, if I’m honest, it was completely cliche and I just couldn’t bring myself to post it because I simply don’t fit the bill of “ordinary” by any sense of the word.  So I scrapped it. Nonetheless, the word struck me still.  I had been receiving words for a few weeks that I would be building my next home.  Yet, really, I was receiving confirmation of the remodeling project that has already taken place in my life I suppose.

God reminded me in those few minutes of conversation  about the wall around Jerusalem that had been torn down by years of attacks and neglect both from within and without…how even those who belonged there were forced into bondage because over time, there was little or no attention paid to the One who alone was able to protect them.

Life had torn me down physically, mentally, emotionally, and most recently financially.  I sit here typing and I can’t help but smile at the finished product unfolds.  I am beautiful inside and out. I am incredibly intelligent and gifted. I always had been, but my walls were broken down and I was robbed of my true self before. I could blame so many people including myself for some of the things I’ve endured, but who I won’t blame is God.  He has truly never left me nor forsaken me.  I, however, time and time again have turned my back on Him.  Even within this year I have.  I had no idea how many idols I’d built in His place: bills, men, loneliness, marriage, relationships, friendships, and even my children…

Still, today’s sermon reminded me that I, like Peter, needed to learn how to receive His grace for the mistakes I’d made…that in doing so I would then be able to strengthen my “brothers”…in my case…my sisters…

Had I possibly considered that what He showed me in a vision nearly eight years ago was coming to pass now, I would like to say I would not have failed Him.  However, all the pain was necessary after all. How else would I be able to teach anyone else how to fish if I refused to take my own rod and reel to the lake.

Like the rebuilding process involved in literal reconstruction, what I witnessed was how an older and smaller house had been torn down, but in it’s place stood a grand structure fit for a kingdom.  I realize now I’m fit just fine as I am now and even as I was then.

So no I’m not under construction anymore people, I’ve been reconstructed for purpose.

©2016 Nadia Davis. All rights Reserved.

 

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I really thought that I was done writing about this subject, but of course, God has decided otherwise. I saw the article the other day about Christian rocker Trey Pearson coming out to his fans in an emotional letter and tried to ignore it. For those who have been following my blog a while you may recall a few posts I wrote about homosexuality and Christianity. For those who have not, here are the links to those posts:

https://1betternotbitter.com/2015/04/28/newsflash-god-loves-homosexuals-too/

https://1betternotbitter.com/2015/06/29/can-a-christian-be-gay/

https://1betternotbitter.com/2015/05/23/grace-for-the-gay-life/

So I felt the need to revisit the topic again anyway because it seems that we Christians are definitely split on the issue. I admit that at times I have even been split myself. I don’t condone the lifestyle. However, neither do I condemn it. I used to wonder why on earth a woman would choose to be with another woman who looks and acts like a man. I used to wonder why on earth a man would be with another man who looks and acts like a woman. And I really had no intention of ever writing about the transgender public toilet issue, but as I learn to be more obedient to the Holy Spirit I realize I have little choice in at least bringing the issue to light.

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I wondered initially why in the world would God place this title on my heart.  It seems so heartless, but I realized that I had heard the song, knew it was an oldie, but had never really paid attention to the lyrics before.  I found an interesting parallel to it and the way we seem to treat people of faith who admit their truth to the world.  Check it out here:

http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/queen/anotheronebitesthedust.html

I couldn’t help but consider the way we gun down our own so quickly.  Now granted, initially I was disturbed by the headline about Trey Pearson. Yes, I am a Christian and yes, I said I was initially disturbed. However, I suppose I was most disturbed by it because I’ve known so many people over the years who have battled with the cover up.  It helped me feel more comfortable with the content of the remainder of this post when I saw the snippets of his interview from the View.

And when I say the “cover up” I don’t mean just covering homosexual desires.  I mean any type of secret sins.  You know the church girl who’s really addicted to sex, the deacon who really has a drug problem, the minister who’s committed adultery multiple times, and yes, the Christian struggling with homosexuality among others.

It seems the church is the only place where we kill our wounded.

Well, about the “coming out issue.”  A while ago, I befriended a young lady and we hit it off great. I’ve never been ashamed of discussing Jesus with anyone and let my kids tell it, I “make everything about Jesus!”  I used to shrink back because of them saying things like this, but hey I do and I will continue to do so.  Of course I’m not bashing folk over the head with the bible, but somehow I tell a little of my testimony everywhere I go.  I guess when you have lived through as much as I have gratitude just seeps.

Anyway, this young lady was married and had a 15-month old daughter when we met.  We’ve since lost touch and that’s really the only reason I feel comfortable sharing this.  a9974907b605006c10dca8a9239c9c88

At the time, I immediately noticed the smile on her face didn’t match the sadness in her eyes when she spoke. It was a façade.  However, at the time, I thought her mask was one hiding domestic violence and not that she had been  struggling with homosexuality.  As a matter of fact, in our first interaction, I mentioned this blog and I commented about how God was allowing me to minister in the strangest ways to all sorts of people. She is a Christian too.

For the record, Christianity has absolutely nothing to do with religion. It is a relationship with God through Christ!

Moving on….

I recall now that at some point in that initial interaction I mentioned I had been called to even assist those struggling with homosexuality, but I hadn’t understood how yet…that I really believe that avenue will be handled by my son as noted in one of the posts above.  I guess I was in my talkative zone and didn’t notice her gaze at that moment.d4c77a23ae75d87212a22a76bdb183a8

Fast forward a few months…we only spoke a  few more times when I’d talked with her about my writing, my kids, my desire to visit Nigeria to which she mentioned that her husband is Nigerian.  Well, the last contact I had with her struck me.  Though it had been a while since we spoke.  I guess seminary had me touch and go.  Anyway, I knew that God put her on my heart for a reason so I texted her to see how she was doing. She quickly responded that she had been going through.  I felt the need to send a message something like: “If you just need someone to listen, I’m here.  No judgement.”

Boy was I in for a surprise!  I just knew she was going to say something about her husband hitting her or some junk, but she dropped this bomb instead:  “My husband found some nude photos of a woman in my phone and I was entertaining it.  He knows that I was sexually involved with women before we got together.  He is really hurt.”

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I just sat in the parking lot in awe.  However, my response  to her admission was that nothing is too hard for God and then I found myself sharing what I am about to share here with you.  “Well, we have all slipped out of God’s will, and while I have never been in a lesbian situation, I have no idea how many men I have slept with! Yes, it’s been that many! If God’s grace could cover me, He could change anyone.” She responded with relief and gratitude.  I prayed for her and her marriage.  I prayed for God’s mercy and His guidance. However, most importantly before I ended our conversation I made sure that she knew that God loves her and that I did also.

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I’m only sharing this now because I lost touch with her after that and I feel that someone out there needs to know this.

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I hope and pray that things are going well for her now, but only God knows the outcome of that scenario. What I do know is the outcome of my scenario and what I have observed so far in this scenario with Trey Pearson.

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He is being exactly who he believes God made him to be.  It’s really not for us to understand his mind and heart. As for that acquaintance, she was obviously struggling with a sexual situation or even a soul tie. That in itself is from the enemy just as I had been. I used sex as an outlet because I didn’t even understand how much I was worth.

Now I did notice that Trey mentioned that he had been “attracted” to men since adolescence.  It seems that it would have a sexual aspect to it on the surface, but who knows? God does and yes He will judge accordingly.  Regardless, he will also judge everyone else for the lies, fornication, adultery, idolatry, murder, etc.  No sin is bigger than another, but all too often we surely try to make it that way, don’t we?

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I don’t condone homosexuality.  I’ve just grown in my faith enough to know that sometimes the only way to persuade others from the error of their ways is to love them through it.  That’s what Christ did for me and to me.  In fact, I was the main one condemning myself and then He allowed me to put myself in the place of the women caught in the act of adultery…oh yeah, I’ve been there and done that too..TWICE!!!  So I guess if I could end this post with anything that needs to be said it would be what Jesus said to her/me:

John 8:8-11 Amplified Bible (AMP)

Then He stooped down again and started writing on the ground. They listened [to His reply], and they began to go out one by one, starting with the oldest ones, until He was left alone, with the woman [standing there before Him] in the center of the court. 10 Straightening up, Jesus said to her, “Woman, where are they? Did no one condemn you?” 11 She answered, “No one, Lord!” And Jesus said, “I do not condemn you either. Go. From now on sin no more.”]

BAM!!! And  there it is folks.  I figure I should let that whole deliverance from sexual and relational addictions out there before the enemy has the nerve to think that I care about the things I’ve done in my past.  However, I realize that I’m no longer ashamed because I’ve been delivered from the desire to “need” an illicit relationship to feel complete.  That’s what true wholeness it about.  I’ve finally got it and I’m not giving it up for anybody.

confident one I just love this pic of me!!!

All that said, when it comes to people who struggle with sin regardless of whether it is on display or covered, we as Christians are not called to condemn them.  We are to love them so at least then another one doesn’t have to bite the dust.

©2016 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

 

Hmmm…I’m so thankful for this revelation this morning. I’ve commissioned myself to ensure above all else that in my walk with Christ from here on that I refuse to chase the fake again…that I be completely authentic to who God made me.

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That said, I must do away with the roles I once played. I acted a certain way because I apparently failed to realize who I was…who I am…accepting my personality for what it is and refusing to answer a name others gave me. The problem was that I got comfortable in the image I’d built for myself…the walls went up and I never considered the Master builder’s blueprint of me until now…wonderfully and fearfully made…I was stagnant…however, since I was four years old I knew then that I was meant to be peculiar…that there was a reason I did and said exactly what came to mind then…I challenged others to think by the things I’d said…challenged others to consider whether they were being authentic in their responses…

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Yet, over the years, my mind evolved into what I “should do and say”according to the status quo and while I knew it wasn’t the real me, I learned to wear a mask well…I had one for every outfit…with matching shoes…I guess my shoes of peace were too unpopular at the time…

Yet, not anymore. I don those bad boys with Pride…who knew they came in stiletto?

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I realize that by not doing what I want to do regardless of who snarks, I was chasing an ideal of me who was a figment of their imagination…I am comforted in knowing that I owe NO ONE an explanation…that is except God…but God has been trying to get me to grasp this concept for years. I’m grateful that’s He’s continued to keep me through the transformation process.

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A few months ago, I said to myself, “I wonder if a catepillar experienced pain in the process of becoming.” Now when I consider myself, I’m convinced there must be screams only God can hear in those cocoons.

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Nonetheless, I’m glad the Father left me in that cocoon that seemed so dark and painful before…so grateful that His grace was all I needed and that He forced me to work hard on myself so that I get my own blood flowing in the right direction to strengthen my wings….so now that I’m emerging from that shell, I do so in one peace…no longer segmented and confined to a surface level existence. Now I can fly.

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….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.

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. (more…)

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I marveled this morning as the Lord doused my being with His Holiness….His insurmountable presence on the drive into work…yes I said to work…not a job, for the work we do is to honor God and to endure what we must to allow His light to shine regardless of what that task entails.

It seemed that everyone in my home this morning was in a sour mood, except me. I admit, most days in the past when things weren’t as clean as I’d expected or instructed the night before, I was the one who was a tyrant.

Yet, this morning and the one before, I woke up singing.  I was moved to worship. I was taken back to my first love…I was reminded of what I used to do that had gotten me through some things others cringe to even think that I have endured. I sang…I smiled…I cleaned the messes that were left from the prior night without accusing anyone or speaking negatively about being unappreciated under my breath.

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I suppose I not only saw myself as God sees me, but for the first time in a long while, I saw God above everything around me.  As I exited my garage yesterday, Kayla was a bit antsy because she has some important tests to take. Despite her attitude, I recalled the prayer I said aloud to bless my day and my children especially.

I hadn’t done that in a while either.

That truth alone could have easily been a reason for me to feel bad for what I hadn’t done, but I couldn’t. I finally knew why I had no room to feel sorry for myself as I inched further down the road towards the expressway.  I said it aloud too.  I cannot recall it verbatim, but the gist of it was,

It’s impossible to get distracted by the bills and problems that compete for your attention when you worship God!!!

At the red light, my daughter responded a bit smug, but she’s approaching adolescence so I wasn’t phased by her demeanor,

“I don’t understand what you are saying, that’s something for you and Mrs. Tesa to discuss.”

At that moment, I said, ” You used to understand.”

Again, that could have led my mind to despair in the days, weeks, and years that had gone by that I hadn’t taken the time and prayed with, read the bible with, and taught her and my son the word of God, like I used to do.  Yet, I couldn’t be distracted.  Instead I heard myself saying, “but I planted the seed, and though I hadn’t nurtured it as before, I just need to get back to work.”

Then something dynamic happened again…I was filled with joy all over again as if I’d been given one of those big “grandma loves you hugs!” Except this hug was from my daddy….My heavenly Father…My God…My King!!!

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I felt like whatever I’d done and hadn’t done didn’t matter…because it doesn’t…and it didn’t.

I just began singing again…I began singing, Here, I am to worship…Here I am to bow down, Here I am to say that You are God!”  You’re altogether Holy, altogether Lovely, Altogether Wonderful to me…Tears of joy overwhelmed me as she sat in silence for the remainder of that drive.

Now it all makes sense!

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I thank God for allowing me to consider His grace and allowing several verses in Ephesians arrest my attention this morning instead of all the other things that could have.

The fact that I “couldn’t” be distracted by those things simply meant that they were not significant enough to really matter in that moment.  It made me wonder why I’d wasted so many other “moments” in my past worrying about them in the first place.

Regardless, it’s refreshing to know the power God’s given me to not only ignore the fruitless attempts of the enemy to run my life, but to also fully embrace the grace to choose to have joy in spite of them.

I admit, I’ve slacked in some areas.  Yet, even that can’t separate me from My Heavenly Father’s loving grasp.  And right about now…I’m just honored to do anything I can for God alone.

©2015 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

For years, I blamed my mother for my lack of happiness as a child and in some ways even as an adult. I hung onto those feelings so tight that I believed they were just another part of me- something I couldn’t get rid of no matter how I tried.

I mean why else would I stay away so long?

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…Yet, as I drove to a place I once called home, I unpacked my heart.

I used my fight or flight instincts all wrong for years.  It doesn’t take much courage to run away. Instead of facing the hard moments head-on, with few exceptions, I took the rode too often taken…

What might have been green once was now only laden with pebbles of broken promises, unfulfilled desires, missed opportunities, and those unfamiliar pieces-fragments of a beat-less heart.

Despite the barrenness of this path, my actions proved I was comfortable with uncomfortable.  It was familiar.

This road led to my new norm.  Though breathing daily, I became one of the dearly departed…

I expected a miracle with my mother’s recovery.  I assumed my faith was enough to reverse the illnesses that mercilessly waged war on her mind and body with each passing day.  But of what I saw was left of her in April brewed something I wish I could reject now.  I wish I hadn’t stuffed it.  I wish I hadn’t retreated.  I wish I had not done what I thought God should have done for me.

I disappeared.

…7 months I remained away…7 months I thought I had peacefully accepted the inevitable, but there had been anything but peace of mind available to me…

I hid that part of me from those I should have held the closest…a brother…I promised to keep in touch…somehow all else superseded that task…a son and daughter… they longed for attention, but a more fitting luxury was to be there, yet not be …potential for new love…snuffed by insecurities bred and nurtured by isolation…promotion just beyond reach…too exhausted to fully comply…I chose to remain detached…

…from my mother, from my family, from my fears, from commitment, from true friendships, from real love, from my calling, from myself, and even from God…

FEAR OF CHANGE was my fuel!

Delays with travel threatened to keep me in my bedroom even on Thanksgiving Day, but that’s when He came to see about me.

My Heavenly Father reminded me I’d been bent for too long…crippled for 18 years… bent by toxic words, vindictive glares, and rages because I was just being me…so at 18, I fled…I intended to never look back…

But how could I look forward when the lure of my past still taunted me day and night?  I was held captive by an unforgiveness that seethed in my heart…

Still, my Redeemer comforted me with His word:

Luke 7:47 New Living Translation 

47 “I tell you, her sins—and they are many—have been forgiven, so she has shown me much love. But a person who is forgiven little shows only little love.”

In order for me to finally move forward, it was time to stand still…no more vanishing acts.

…and with every passing mile, I unpacked my mind.

She clung to life awaiting my return…

When I arrived at Grace, I expected the icy stare from the nurse who saw to my mother’s daily needs.  So as my daughter whittled our names on the register, I promised myself I would not cry.

The prognosis was bleak.

“Let me see if I can speak to you, what’s your name? Who are you?” she sneered flipping through a worn manila folder 2 inches thick.

Her gasp was expected too.  Still, I managed the words, “I’m her daughter.”

In the fours years, my mother had been housed there, she and I’d never met.

Resting the closed folder on her chest with arms folded as if she had a right to protect the details, she sighed, “It’s not good.  Every other day, we think she’s getting ready to pass, but she hangs in there.”

A tear escaped.

I knew why she fought.  The nurse’s olive eyes brightened for a moment as she continued with the details of the medicinal regimen she’d administered to her.  I inhaled her words methodically picking apart those I understood in silence.

Morphine every 8 hours

High Blood Pressure Meds

Ventilator

Feeding Tube

With that, my mind immediately regurgitated memories when she preferred the taste of my daughter’s kid’s meal as she quickly confiscated a handful of fries the moment we entered her room that first time we were there.

She’d been able to eat on her own then.

“Do you want to see her?”

I’m sure her question hadn’t been the reason for my jolt back to the blank corridor where we stood.  Rather, her attempt to shove the few tissues she grabbed from her cart into my trembling hands sparked recognition that I was doing the very thing I promised myself I wouldn’t mere minutes earlier.

Acknowledging her question, I nodded and offered a muddled response of, “I just couldn’t see her like this.”  Her grimace softened as if for at least a minute she understood.

I rested in this glimmer of hope that maybe I wouldn’t be judged for my absence and followed her to the place I’d successfully avoided for so long.

…I unpacked my will

She led me to the room with the number 707 on the door.  The one I’d ironically just passed without taking notice of her name on the placard above the digits that symbolize completion.  I walked in at a little after 5 pm, but the room was serene and dark.  She was sleeping soundly.  Still tiny in comparison to the way I would have preferred to remember her.

Those Cherokee roots were more evident than ever now.  A single band corralled her crimped tresses in a side bun. Coal black strands concealed her true age though few iridescent stragglers remained…She still appeared only 10 years older than I.  As I stood there, I became weak.

So My Father picked me up and carried me the distance I knew I needed to travel…He knew that the shards of brokenness beneath my feet on that road I’d been wandering on before were too painful to endure alone.  Still, He understood my need to revisit that barren place, if only for a final time…to say goodbye…as only a Father could…He consoled me and allowed me to heal as he lowered me at her bedside.

For the first time in a long time, I opened up my heart to my mother.

Running from every other issue in my life had been my norm for nearly 2 decades.  I guess the enemy thought by witnessing my mother’s condition for perhaps the last time I’d continue to feel robbed of my childhood or that I’d turn my anger back on God for her suffering.

Instead, I felt relief.  Soon she would no longer suffer….she’d suffered much longer than I had.  I realized that the pain she inflicted on me was only the residue left from her own similar afflictions she endured as a child.

Though she never was able to mouth the confirmation of her pain to me directly, her eyes said it all.

Before  I visited her, God prepared me.  I came across photos I had never seen…as I flipped through endless albums a progression of life, love, and family were revealed.  With it, the snapshots also exposed an evolution of pain.

She was sexually abused as a child. Now I realize why in many ways her tyrannical behavior towards me was in some ways protective.   She distanced herself from me emotionally and perhaps this is what ingrained in me a fear of intimacy that would take years for me to own.  I could see why she possibly felt responsible for the violations she endured at the hands of the one she should have been able to trust.

Both sequences were simultaneously authentic and counterfeit foreign and familiar to me…authentic and counterfeit…manufactured too shared the same fake smile once my world was interrupted by intolerable cruelty.  It seemed, my last genuine smile was when I was 7 years old.  Hmph…there’s that number again…One such picture that I uncovered of my mother shared that same smile.

She was captured in mid curtsy smiling ear to ear looking straight at the camera in her white laced Sunday’s best!  I wondered at that moment who had been the photographer.  Who brought her so much joy then?  Who was responsible for taking it?  The next shots canvassed were entirely different.  They captured brokenness.  Again I understood the pasted facade for those required at school while others were taken at home never quite held the same enchantment…pictures where she clung to her mother’s leg as if that were her only hope of surviving the storm that raged within her.

That weekend bits and pieces of my mother’s existence were revealed as I fought through the urge to selfishly cling to the cancer that linked us.  I realized with God’s grace that I not only had permission to let the pain of my past go but that I had the obligation to let my mother go as well. So as I gathered the strength to sing in her ear as she did to me before what ailed her surfaced.  The tune was so familiar…I realized why she constantly hummed it…”We only just begun to live…white lace and promises…” I understood that white lace and promises were what we shared once and as I hesitated to close the blinds and turn out the lights to what might have been, I did so beamingly because I knew that we still would share that time again together someday.

©2014 Nadia Davis. All Rights Reserved.

Hey Ladies and Gents,

I’m curious. Are you still holding onto past hurts and regrets? How’s that working out for you? Tell me your story below!

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Believe it or not there are some people out there who are so overwhelmingly positive that if you put a stick of dynamite in their Kool-aid, their response would be something like, ” What colorful fireworks!”

Well I know envy is not an attribute I want to advocate here so let’s just say that I admire those folk. Better yet, I used to be one of those folk.  At least a few years ago it seemed that would have been a good way to describe my attitude towards life anyway.

So this morning I’m up pondering yet again, how do I get back there?

…Back to a time when the encouragement I shared with others kept me primed for the next opportunity to witness…what happened to the real me?

…that me who God called…the one who actually gained energy from being a little peculiar…the one who wasn’t afraid to be the minority right in a crowd of so much wrong…

Somewhere along the way, I got tired….or as I’ve joked TIDE!

Yes, over the years I’ve gotten tired of all the looks from people who don’t know me but outwardly judge me because of my ability to smile when others are complaining.  I suppose I grew tired of the feeling of being pulled by every arm to do stuff as if I were the only one who possessed 8 of them.  Indeed, I got tired of being a mother who did it all only to be underappreciated.  I even grew tired of church folk so at times Beside Baptist was my preferred venue for worship on Sunday mornings.

Yet, after heading to bed at midnight and waking at 3:47 am with this post on my heart, I realized I really have no reason to be tired at all.  Awaken by that still, small voice, the way I had been in years passed before dawn and before my alarm clock could catch up, I smiled at the realization that yes, He did it again!

God allowed me to get knocked down to a place so low that only He could give me the strength to get up.  I’d be lying if I said the events that have taken place in the last 24 hours have been anything short of devastating, but I’m thankful that I was so lovingly reminded today that the rest really is up to me.

I’m thankful God placed it on my pastor’s heart to start a series about the elusive rest I’d once possessed so effortlessly.  After a great series on balance, I needed to be reminded of how I can rest in God’s presence. I thought I was there in service because in spite of the things I’d faced recently, I had come to realize why I’d been so tired.  It was simple!

I needed more of HIM!

Dear Gracious Lord,

Thank You for reminding me that You love me just for being Your child… that no person on earth could ever give me the kind of love that You give me everyday.  Thank you for allowing me to make mistakes and survive them.  Thank you for blessing me with gifts to encourage others. Thank you for mending my broken heart.  Thank you for preparing me for who You have for me. Help me not to take over in the process. Help me to patiently wait on Your choice for me.  Thank you for allowing him to come into the picture only when we both are ready for that step.  Help me not to allow the pain in this moment punish who You’ve designed for me.  Thank You for provision and direction.  In Jesus name I pray. Amen.

 

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