Hell & Heaven at 8: Chapter 5

Chapter 5 

She Never Cried

Late one night during the winter I heard my mom and dad having another argument about him being the man of “HIS” house and how she better start listening to him or else he was leaving. My mom said something to the effect of him not threatening to leave but that if he wanted to leave the door was open. She went on to say that if he tried coming back this time she would not let him in – then came the tussling. I heard dad sort of growl through his teeth saying owwwww, you bit me. My mom said that’s right and imma bite you again if you don’t let me go.

She went on screaming she was sick of his crap, the lying, the cheating – the fights. She said she deserved better. Then I heard mommy whimper saying my dad was hurting her and then there was a thud to the floor and in that moment the whimpering reversed. It sounded as if dad was crying when he asked her why she had to do that. I lay there trying to use my little imagination to figure out what my mother could have possibly done to break free from my dad, knock him to the floor and make him cry. The loud argument faded but the discussion continued as I drifted off to sleep.

When I woke the next morning the house was ironically quiet as we usually wake to chaos. Mom was downstairs, Luther Van Dross was playing softly on the stereo and she was seated at the kitchen table in her floral printed bathrobe and her rugged slippers, coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Somehow I already knew the answer to the question before I asked but I felt compelled to ask anyway. I walked slowly towards my mother’s seat asking her where my dad was and if he was coming back. She looked up at me with tear stained cheeks and simply answered that she didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if the answer was for question one or question two but what I did know is that I most certainly was not the only person in anguish, although, I didn’t quite understand why my mom was sad. I figured she should be happy she didn’t have to fuss and fight with him anymore.

After that day in the kitchen, she was fairly quiet; I never saw her cry again. My aunts stopped by periodically to check on my mother. My aunts tried to get her to leave the house, to go out and have fun but she made many excuses every time. One day, while my aunt was visiting I overheard her say that she received a call from my father and that he was in California. Hearing that excited something in me so I jumped up and moved quickly towards the kitchen. I knew they would tell me it was grown up conversation and to go back into the living room. So in that moment I figured I would simply ask for water so it would not seem as though I were spying. I mean it had been quite a while since I saw or heard from my father – I missed my daddy – not being able to see him or talk to him was killing me.

Just as I entered the kitchen doorway, mom pulled a letter from her pocket and showed it to my aunt. It was from my dad. They went on to discuss the details of the letter never noticing I was standing there. Apparently my father found another woman, was living with her in California and wanted to marry her which meant he would have to divorce my mother. My aunt and mother sat quietly at the kitchen table for hours before my aunt took her leave.

_____________________________________________

LETTER

Dear Daughter,

For many years now, I have walked around carrying a heavy load on my shoulders. I have asked myself many times would you, could you have lived a much better life, had I been sober of mind, heart and body. Instead I was addicted to alcohol and could not see the forest for the trees.

Yes, my child I was a drunk! No! I did not drink every day, however, when I did; my goal was to get drunk, escaping my daily realities. Baby girl, every time I did. I saw you watch in confusion.

If you can remember, I believed that I knew it all, but in reality I was turning myself into a living veggie, most of all I was not smart enough to see, or know the pain that I was bringing to your life. What a jerk I was, the people I loved the most were the very same people I brought pain and shame.

The yelling, the fussing and God knows whatever unnecessary behavior I had shown. Many times I should have been home with you and the rest of the family but would find myself drunk with some woman and I could not tell you who they were now. If I could only turn back the hands of time, I would do many things differently. I would be a better man, a better father. There are many things I could write about; however, this is not easy. I wish there were other words I could say, other expressions I could use; but there is no other way to say I am sorry for any pain, shame or scarring I caused you!

With Deep Regret and Heartfelt Apology,

Dad

Hell & Heaven at 8: Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Time to Run Again

Seems we just settled into our home in Newport News, Virginia, as my father was in the service, when my mother packed me, my two brothers and my baby sister up, returning us to Baltimore. My aunt and grandparents opened their homes to us and after a while, my father encountered issues pertaining to his job and he too moved back home. Not long after living with my grandparent’s did we move into the projects of Westport near Cherry Hill in Baltimore.

Dad had become increasingly hostile. Seems he was angry all the time. When he went into his flailing, yelling and screaming fits, typically my mother escaped quickly, gathering me and my siblings and scuffling us to the nearest family members house. I remember my aunts and uncles would get angry that mom had us out so late at night. They were mostly livid with my dad and would saddle up like lone-rangers to pursue and punish him in the family way.

This particular night, rain beat hard against the window as my siblings and I sat in the living room. We were supposed to be waiting for mom to give us a snack and prepare us for bed but just as she was about to go into the kitchen my father stormed into the house and immediately began slinging all manner of curse words at her. She asked him if he had been drinking and all he could say was it didn't matter. Mom told him to go upstairs and get his self together so she could finish with us and then she would talk to him about whatever had him so angry. He insisted that she stop what she was doing and come upstairs with him at that very moment.

Mom refused so dad came over, grabbed her by her arm and began pushing her towards the stairs. Mommy was screaming telling dad to let her arm go because he was hurting her but he ignored her declaring that she would learn to respect him one way or the other. Mom called for my oldest brother telling him to come to her. I didn't realize then but she was using him as a shield, figuring if dad could only see the look in his sons’ eyes he would cease with his intentions to “teach her a lesson.” Man, my oldest brother, ran over to mom and began pleading with my dad to stop and let her go but dad insisted that he stay in a child’s place and go back to his seat.

I then ran over and grabbed my dad around his leg crying, yelling and asking him to please stop. I’ll never forget that night because it was the night my dad turned to me, grabbed me by my two ponytails, picked me up by them and partially slung me off of his leg. At that moment I was a broken little girl. As far as I could remember in my almost five years of life my dad had never even spanked me but now in a moment he crushed me, not physically but my spirit was far removed. I was daddy’s girl and was unaccustomed to this behavior towards me.

As I sat on the floor crying I remember hearing my baby brother and sister wailing out of fear, Man was yelling at dad demanding he let mommy go as dad pushed her up the stairs. Finally, they were out of sight but we most certainly could hear the cursing and thumping. After a while my mom came downstairs telling me and my brother to grab our rain coats and to hurry before dad came downstairs.

She never really let us get them all the way on as she marched us out the front door urging us to walk faster. When we finally reached the nearest family members home, mom was surprised to see my aunts and uncles were all there playing cards. Aunt Pattie-pooh asked my mother bluntly what was going on, of course using a few choice words. She could clearly tell that mom had been crying and asked if Eddie, my father came home acting a fool again. Mom answered yes and before she could tell them anything further my uncle said he came home violent and drunk didn't he? My mom seemed reluctant to answer but before long the adults remembered that we, the children were standing in the room, dripping from the rain.

Some of the older cousins were called down to tend to the babies and to get us ready for bed. As we headed upstairs the adult voices began to fade, eventually dissipating altogether and I knew they were all headed to my house to whip on my dad. At the time, I didn't realize he was physically abusing my mother because all he ever allowed us to witness was him yelling at her and grabbing her. And I certainly had not considered that even if he was not physically abusive he sure was wearing her out with mental abuse with all the names he called her and all the ways he humiliated her in front of us and often in front of company. I cried myself to sleep with each of these episodes and woke the next morning to him carrying me back to my house with mom by his side pushing the babies in a stroller and Man trailing behind. Every time I would think that was the end of the fighting things grew worse.

One time my father came home so drunk that he must have forgotten my aunts and uncles didn't tolerate his drunken ignorance. My mom, aunts and uncles were in the kitchen when my father came home, smoking weed, loud, and obnoxious, reeking of alcohol, and barking instructions to all in HIS house. He was sure to remind everyone that he was the king of the castle.

The adults were listening to records and pretty much ignoring his ranting. My dad walked over to the stereo and changed the record to something he wanted to hear. My mother told him to stop smoking the weed in the house around us and then she told him to leave the music alone informing him that they were there first. My father began yelling obscenities; again echoing he was the king in his house and if they didn’t like what he was doing, they could all get out.

As my dad went to the sofa, continuing to smoke his marijuana my mom went to the record player and put on Michael Jackson, a record they listened to hours ago but what they all wanted to hear at the moment. My dad jumped up and pushed my mom into the wall. Just as he raised his fist to hit her, my uncle ran into the living room and stood in between my mom and my dad. My uncle told my father to go upstairs and sleep off his drunken high but my father refused. He told my uncle to stay out of his business and then accused my mother of sleeping with my uncle. Uncle Mike retorted that my dad was an A-hole and warned him that if he did not stop with his outlandish behavior he would put him in his place.

Again, my father must have forgotten that my aunts and uncles were not afraid of him and believed in teaching HIM lessons. Dad jumped in my uncles’ face, called him a few names and told him he wasn’t going to do nothing to him. As my dad tried to reach around my uncle to change the record my uncle caught his arm giving him his final warning to calm down. My dad swung at my uncle and missed. My uncle came back with a blow to his nose. I will never forget watching the blood drip from my dad’s face and although I knew my dad was wrong I was really hurt because he was hurt. This highly dramatic man, screamed out that his nose was broken and went staggering up the stairs to clean up the blood muffling something like he’d be back to take care of my uncle.

Just as a daddy’s girl, I climbed the stairs to check on my daddy. He was in his room with the door closed. I knocked lightly. When he didn't answer I opened the door and found him sitting on the roof just outside of his window. He looked back at me, one nostril clogged with blood and the other with a white powdery residue. He had cough syrup in one hand and the remainder of the joint in the other hand. Looking back, my father was either suicidal or trying desperately to escape deep rooted pains. He told me that he didn't want me to see him like that. He even apologized. That was the first and last time I ever heard him apologize for his conduct. I told him I loved him, reached up to hug him as he reached into the window to receive the hug and a soft peck on the cheek from me. He told me he loved me too and that I should go back down stairs with mommy before she came looking for me. I slowly walked towards the door and I remember thinking, is my daddy going to die. I looked back, told him to be careful and to come down soon. He said okay as I walked out the door, closing it behind me. His slight smile is still etched into the fabric of my memory.

__________________________________________

LETTER

Dear Baby Girl,

I want to at this very moment, wrap my arms around your abandoned heart. I want to squeeze you and embrace you and cover you with my pleading love for you. My heart cries for not being the father you need to protect and provide for you. There are no excuses for my failure of not being a father to you, and I cannot retract what I did, nor can I take back what I did not do but if I could, I most certainly would.

I have carried you in my spirit since the day you were conceived. You are the greatest gift I have contributed to the world. I often felt I wasn’t good enough to be that strong figure in your life to teach you and show you the way a man is supposed to be. I was both present and absent from your life but it had nothing to do with your worth. You were and will always be the gem in my heart. God knew I wasn’t the best fit for a father at the time you were born, but he knew you were supposed to be here and he knew you were a beautiful soul, with the strength of a lion. He knew you would have the strength to pull through your circumstances and become who you were created to be in this world, without me.

I know you yearn for me and will always yearn for me to be there throughout your life, but the truth is that God wouldn’t have put this on you if he didn’t already see that you would overcome this. You have carried this burden long enough and it is time for you to release all the pain I have caused you in not being there. I love you more than words could ever express. You are my heart and forever my baby girl.

I pray that God gives you the strength to forgive me, for my failure as a man, so that you can let the anger and the pain diminish for the sake of freeing yourself. My prayer is and always will be that you know you are worth more than all the riches this world could ever offer. You are priceless, my little girl, the love of my life; my heart will continue to love you throughout eternity.

Always Loving You,


Daddy

Hell & Heaven at 8: Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Close Call:

Stealing an Angel's Life That Won't Die

With squinted teary eyes, I looked at my parents and when they spoke to me I responded yet again with cooing, giggles and even laughter. Life seemed normal for my parents, all appeared as if it were well. As far as my mother and father were concerned they shared in the experience of giving birth to a perfectly healthy baby girl. I had all ten fingers and all ten toes. My lungs worked and my heart beat was normal. Little did my parents know, chronic illness, sickness, disease and even predators lay waiting and lurking for an opportunity to steal their baby girl’s life.

My parents were ecstatic to take their beautiful baby girl home but my big brother, well, let’s just say he was not a happy camper when I came home from the hospital. Time passed rapidly but somehow moved slowly at the same time, for I no longer wore infant apparel but instead I grew quickly, barely fitting 6-9 month baby clothing.

One day while my dad was at work, my mom laid me and my brother down for a nap. According to my mother, he was just about two years old and was still having issues coping with me sharing his space so he climbed into my crib with me. Mom says when she came into the room and didn’t see him in his bed her heart began to race. Immediately she ran over to check on me in the crib and found my brother in there with me. His pillow was completely covering my face and he was laying on it. My brother looked up innocently with his big brown eyes as mom reached in to pull him off of me. When she took the pillow off of my face, there I lay with a huge smile, never realizing my brother almost killed me. To this day, I say he was just trying to take a nap with me. He figured if he could share his space, I could share mine – However, auntie and mom noted otherwise.

After a few years I was mobile. My big brother learned to love me and to protect me. He also taught me how to get into plenty of trouble. One day when I was about two, mom went to the front door to talk with a neighbor. She left me and my brother sitting nicely in front of the television. In a brief moment I was up exploring the house, specifically, the kitchen. Somehow I decided that cooking would be a great idea and turned on the eye of the stove. I don’t remember all the details but what I do remember is burning up the stove, almost killing me and my brother with smoke

inhalation, a spankin’ and well, I never did receive any food.

By age four, my mother had seen more hospital visits for me than she cared to or even thought she would. Tonsillitis and strep throat were the culprits. With body temperatures exceeding 102.8 degrees and persistent nightly cries due to pain, my mother dragged herself from her bed heading to the nearest emergency room with me toddling beside or straggling behind her. Each occurrence was followed by isolation from my siblings and other family members, crushed Tylenol, cups of jello, scoops of ice-cream and loads of Kool-aid in its assorted flavors. The doctors suggested surgery to remove my tonsils many times but my mother declined after reading the possible repercussions; cutting vocal chords, bleeding to death as well as the possibility of needing a blood transfusion.

If tonsillitis and strep weren’t enough to contend with one night my mom had the wonderful pleasure of finding me at my grandfather’s house laying on the back porch with the dogs, Trip and Misty and what I thought was our new cat. She found me delusional with a fever of almost 104 degrees petting our new house rat. I was immediately rushed to the emergency room. Thinking back, I can easily see how my brother was frustrated about having this new sister around but now he had two other new additions he was forced to share his space with.

Upon arriving at the hospital, I was completely lethargic and was rushed to the back having intravenous tubes inserted, blood drawn, given antibiotics, Tylenol and placed in ice water to bring my fever down. Later my mom learned that I had developed several childhood diseases all at the same time. I had mumps, measles and chicken pox’s. The doctors told my mother that it was a close call, they could have lost me.

Somehow, I lived, but my mother had no clue what other experiences sought to pick this peculiar flower from life, leaving only thorny bushes with pricked, bruised hearts.

Hell & Heaven at 8: Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - An Angel is Born

From the day I was born, eventful and often chaotic moments sought to overshadow the gifted jewel I am and would eventually become.

It was a cool Monday morning with brisk breezes and crisp air. Leaves blew along the streets and the aroma of bacon frying upon stove tops flowed into the nostrils urging saliva glands to prepare for intake. The women chattered in the kitchen while cousins watched cartoon after cartoon. Suddenly without notice, a sharp pain reverberated through Barbara’s pelvis. She grumbled something like a growl and a yelp between her teeth, gripping the side of the stove. Pat jumped to her feet and asked if it was time.

My mom went into labor while participating in three of her favorite things; cooking for the family, spending time with my Aunt Pattie-pooh (that’s my pet name for one of the favored women in my life) and eating, however, she did not get to enjoy what she prepared.

As told by mom and Pattie-pooh, they were on their way to the hospital in a cab when it began spinning out of control. Yes, you heard correctly, mom was in labor on her way to the hospital and the cab she was riding in got into an accident. When the car finally stopped spinning it landed in front of a fire station.

The firemen rushed over and found my frightened aunt and my very pregnant mom in the car. They immediately rushed my mother to Johns Hopkins hospital. Moments later a frantic man stormed into the emergency room asking for Barbara Whitaker. You guessed it, that man was my dad Edward. The nurse escorted my dad to my mother’s bedside. When he saw her he immediately began apologizing for a fight they had the night before. Aunt Pat walked over to dad and told him to leave her alone with all that mess until after she recovered from giving birth.

Since dad respected his big sister he immediately turned his focus to the well-being of my mother by asking the nurses and doctors a thousand and one questions: Is the baby alright? Have you checked to see if there is any damage from the accident? How long before its time to push? And so the questions went on and on until finally one of the nurses informed my dad that everything was fine. As they moved my mom to her room, the nurse went on urging him to try and make my mother as comfortable as possible.

The nurse advised him to pat her head with the cool towel, to hold her hand and to massage her lower back.

After several hours of hard labor the doctor came in to see how many centimeters mom had dilated and found that it was time to push. Although mom had done this before she was scared. She wasn’t sure if I had incurred injuries from the accident. Mom also did not believe she had enough energy to birth me through the vaginal canal.

PUSH the doctor yelled. Come on Barbara, you can do it! Dad rubbed moms head and kissed her gently, encouraging her to push. Mom pushed one last time and with that, I slid into the world almost falling out of the doctors’ hands. The doctor introduced them to their beautifully healthy baby girl. I opened my eyes and that is when my singing career began. I belted out a loud cry and when my parents heard my cries they too were filled with tears of joy.

 

_________________________________________________________________________________

POEM / LETTER

Dear Mom and Dad,

Angels aren’t always dressed in white gowns with rosy red cheeks, smiles upon their faces, twinkles in their eyes and wings glistening upon their backs. In fact, Angels come in different shapes and sizes. They sometimes touch you with their tears. They change lives because of their pain. They purify with their innocence. With gentle hands they warm hearts. With kisses they heal. Their laughter chases things that restrain bringing joy to all they encounter.

Messy and dingy with dirt upon their faces yet warmly they embrace you!

These are our earthly Angels living amongst us as examples of success and failure, victory and defeat, triumphs and downfalls but it’s up to each of us to capture the lessons, take our eyes off the Mythical Angels to see the ones we have surrounding us, giving guidance with every step made.

Be well My Angels...

With Tenderness and Love,
Your Angel,
Stacie

 

Hell & Heaven at 8 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Reflection

 

 

Sitting here by the water enjoying the lush green scenery, watching the children run and play, listening to the ducks splash, hearing the birds chirp, catching a whiff of the fall air as the wind blows across the ponds water sends my mind rippling back to my early childhood days. I close my eyes and breathe deeply allowing my nostrils to fill with the combined scents in the air. My ears equally absorb all the noises as they harmoniously synchronize and again, I find myself remembering conversations my mom and I had years earlier. Memories of stories told and the things I remember seeing and hearing all come rushing in. Some moments I find myself happy, smiling as I reminisce and other times I find myself almost at the point of tears as I consider how all of these activities have brought me to the place where I sit today, in this moment, at this time.

Poem

Precious Little Girl

By Stacie J. Whitaker-Harris

I bat my big pretty brown eyes with my lashes quickly opening and shutting

I coo, giggle, laugh and smile reaching out for your ear, your nose and for your eyes

Gently I graze your cheeks with the warmth and the softness of my finger tips

I can see in your eyes that you are proud parents but still, you are afraid

As you cradle me, your baby girl in your arms, I look at you and fear nothing

You smile, realizing that someday soon I’ll grow up,

Learning to crawl, stand, walk and sometimes stumble

But then you see me stand with little bow legs as I learn to run to you

I remember your warming, gentle touch and I see that spark in your eyes

No matter how much I grow you still call me "baby girl"

And that same look resonates in your eyes from when I was a baby

There is no love to replace what I receive from you

No matter the length of my days,

I will never quite explain what I’ve gained from having you in my life

Even if only for a moment

No matter how many years go by, I will always be your precious little girl

 

Hell & Heaven at 8 - Introduction

It is presumptuous of any man to assume the mantle of speaking for all men, or any segment of men. However, most men are able to speak concerning issues endured by women as a result of male figures; manhood. From sexual abuse and molestation, to physical abuse and drug addiction, to neglect and abandonment, men are more often than not the precipitating factors which placed women in these very damaging situations; I’m sorry for this, and ask for your forgiveness on my manhood participation.

There are always "whys" and "reasons" that such actions are perpetrated upon women, the nurturers of humanity; however, they are never justifiable. Mental illness, sexual addiction, pornography addiction, esteem issues, relationship dysfunction, being abused, neglected, abandoned, mistreated by women, or just being raised with a zero sense of morality - all inexcusable reasons for men to mistreat the sustainers and nurturers of humanity, women.

All of that being said, the reality of such abuse cannot be denied. While no man can apologize for another man, or for all men, all men can apologize for the insensitivity of manhood. No matter how "in tune" we feel or believe we are to the pain, and trauma of women, our insensitivity is evident in our daily interaction with women. From our unwillingness to give up our seat on the train or bus to a woman, to our insistence that women "know their place," to how we treat (or do not treat) our wife or lady, or mother, or sisters, or daughters, our duplicity is glaring.

All abuse is abuse to the abused. Abuse of neglect, abuse of personal space invasion, and mental abuse, is all abuse to the one being subjected to the abuse.

Yes, apologies are in order! At the same time, acceptance of apologies is also a needed conduit if the abused is really going to find healing. Women must never allow themselves to place their life on hold because a perpetrator has not offered up an apology. Seek independent assistance to do the reaffirming work needed, and then move forward with your awesomely wonderful and beautiful self!

I’m confident that with all of the women each man comes in contact with throughout the course of his life there is any number of women who has felt some level – along the wide spectrum of abuse labels – of abuse as a result of some action on his part. So, all men owe womanhood and some specific woman as well, an apology. Again, I offer my sincere apology to any, and all women wounded as some result of my action or non-action.

Women, when the apology comes, either accept it or reject it, but then move forward. Don’t allow yourself to be stuck in bitterness, hatred, or vengeance. You deserve better than to give a man power over your happiness simply because he was too: vicious, sick, careless, hateful, mean, or any number of the other maladies that can be named, to apologize.

I am sincerely sorry for any and all hurt and pain caused to any woman as a result of any action of mine; real, imagined or over-stated. I hurt at the thought that I have hurt any woman and have not offered my sincere apology for it. Me hurting you was never an intentional act, but had to have been an act of ignorance.

From my: long deceased mother, to my wife, sisters, daughters, mother-in-law, god-daughter, and female friends, I am confident that I have wounded each in some manner. I have always been quick to say "I’m sorry." I take this moment to repeat that refrain; I am sorry!

Please be overwhelmingly aware of my love and respect for yours, and all womanhood. Women, you are the best that God has made. No issue and no situation can change the beauty that is uniquely you. You are strong, loving, and nurturing; you are woman!

In her book series, "Embracing Me," Stacie Harris not only shares her own poignant, painful, and victorious story, she also attempts to use her story, and the letters of apology dispersed throughout the series from men, to inspire, encourage, motivate, and direct other women to, themselves, embrace healing.

Through the letters penned here, and in her other books in this series, it is hoped that this project ushers in a cathartic era for many, if not all, women who find themselves stuck in their pain as a result of never hearing "sorry" from the person they believe caused their pain.

Take this journey! Travel through the pages of this book! Read the letters! Read Stacie’s personal story of her "Hell & Heaven" from book one, and about her "Tears" in book two. Mourn her "Death at 24" in book three, and then share her "Awakening" in book four. I’m confident that not only will Stacie’s personal memoir touch your heart, and prod your instincts, but you will also find one, or many, letters in the series that will strike a powerful chord within your spirit that will provoke your emotions to react. Don’t be afraid of reacting, and of acting; it’s the non-action that has kept you stuck.

Be healed! Be set free from the issues of your past that has held you in bondage. You are not the product of abuse. You are not the offspring of destruction. You are not the memory of a mistake. You are the chosen of God. You are called to do wonderful exploits in His name. You are strong, beautiful, nurturing, and amazing; I am sorry for anything I have done to make you feel otherwise. I am sorry for anything manhood has done to hinder your growth, or blind your view.

Forgive me! Forgive manhood! Embrace your womanhood! Make the declaration today by screaming with your loudest inner voice, "Today, I am "Embracing Me!"

Go Master The Day,

Dr. Allen C. Barham, Sr.(Dr. B)

Memoir Sharing - Dedication / Statement of Intent

In the coming weeks, I intend to share the pages of the first book in The Embracing Me Memoir Series, "Hell & Heaven at 8". Today  I start by sharing the Dedication and Statement of Intent. 

 

Additionally, I will provide a platform for questions and open discussion from the 20 chapters. "Hell & Heaven at 8" was published December 2011 and has traveled around the globe impacting lives of people near and far.

 

DEDICATION:

 

This book is dedicated to every young girl, woman and any male who experienced the discomforts and humiliation of watching family members, especially fathers and mothers, waste away, being consumed by drugs and alcohol.  Equally, the book is dedicated to the neglected, abandoned, and anyone who has ever suffered from sexual, physical, mental or verbal abuse: thus lacking self-love, self-esteem, self-worth and/or self-respect.  To those whose minds were or still are consumed with suicidal thoughts in hopes to rid yourself of the nightmares in reliving moments of pain over and over again.  To those who still cry yourself to sleep at night wishing to turn back the hands of time.  To the victorious ones who exceeded the expectations of the disasters you lived through and are living a life complete from guild and shame.

 

And certainly, this book is dedicated to those who struggle with your identity, unable to embrace the true you. 

 

STATEMENT OF INTENT:

 

For almost twenty-five years I have held onto this story for fear of hurting those whom I love, respect, and honor.  That however, is not my intention.  This series is not to cast blame, point fingers or to cry out as a victim: nor is it an opportunity to "air the families dirty laundry".  Neither is disgrace the objective.

 

"Hell & Heaven at 8" is one of four books in The Embracing Me Memoir Series which tells of my life's journey from girlhood to my current womanhood, having gone through abuse, disappointment, rape, molestation and many other experiences.  The story is told in eight year increments, discussing the pivotal points in my life that have allowed me to heal, grow, and embrace myself for the woman I was created to be.

 

The fact of the matter is my story is a common one, often held inside without the gory details of each bitter experience that has left and leaves young women wounded for generations.  Although the book discloses true accounts of my life, again, it is not to bash or tear down, but rather; to build.

 

My hope is that in sharing and exposing the deepest parts of me, other women and girls will have an opportunity to embrace every experience that makes them valuable, uniquely created, intricate members of society while going through their own process of healing.  This series opens the doorway for each reader to reconcile with past hurts, abuses in any form, abandonment, neglect, disappointment, grief, divorce, rape, abortion, sexual assault, miscarriage and the list goes on.

 

It is my hope that you gain an understanding of your own significance to begin embracing who you are and without defining yourself according to failures, successes, generational curses or the like.  Essentially, healing broken women leads to healing and restoration of broken boys, men and prayerfully, families.

 

Life is a journey with many roads.  It's like a tree with many roots that lead to many branches.  Each root with its own purpose and each branch having its purpose, yet, they are connected by the middle.  They sustain one another and give purpose one to the other.  This story and the story yet unwritten, embracing my life, holds just as much significance as the root to the tree.  The tree which grows lives and will continue long after I am gone.  I embrace the past, present, future, the known and the unknown.  With time I have learned to accept each part of my life, each branch, every root and all the ties in this daily pursuit of Embracing Me.

 

"In order to know who you really are, In order to know the power which you possess, In order to grow, In order to live and be free, You must first be willing to embrace every moment...The days before your existence, The days when you came to be and the legacy that you will leave behind...Know thyself, Embrace who you are."

~ Stacie J. Whitaker-Harris 

Thank you for going on this journey of embracing through self-discovery 

 

 

 

POEM: A Greater Strength

Some of my greatest powers and strengths come in the form of knowing my own limitations and thus knowing when to ask for help. 

It comes after constant inward battles of inadequacy. It comes with the ever nagging thoughts of who will judge me. It comes rejection after rejection due to expectations that one sees, knows, understands, and will respect me as I am.

My strength is in my heart, but it is not physical. It's in my love but not the word, the action. 

My strength comes when I forgive others who have wronged me - be it real or perceived. 

My strength comes in the acknowledgement of the perfectly imperfect thorns in my flesh. The anger, hatred, rage and self-destructive behaviors that seemingly rise with the thought of conquering my mind by consuming my soul...drawing from it the love that is mine to both give and receive. 

My strength is in my stance, in my eyes, in my walk, in my belly. 

My greatest strength took longest to cultivate - the ability to forgive myself, move beyond my fears, and love myself deeply.

Imagine That!!!

After much cogitation regarding the prior year (2014), I declare with the voice of Mr. Thomas Edison: "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work". (SMILING WITHIN & OUTWARDLY)

Creative beings such as myself and probably many of you reading this post, typically venture into uncertain territory to formulate and cultivate things and ideas others think of but are afraid to try - mostly due to fear of failure or rejection of others. And although many visionaries try, not many are willing to continue trying over and over and over again until accomplishing the desired outcome if they feel they've failed.

Let me just encourage you as you start this year (2015), bright, bubbly, full of energy and ideas - one road block is just that...ONE! Failure is not a means to an end, but the opportunity to begin again, anew! Failure is also an idea! IMAGINE THAT!!!

Choose to accept or deny the idea of failure!

May you pursue and conquer! God bless you abundantly as you continue to IMAGINE THAT!!!

Listen to God - Follow your heart...IMAGINE THAT!!!

Snapshot of What's Coming

As we prepare for the release of the remaining three books in The Embracing Me Memoir Series, let's revisit Book I of the series, "Hell & Heaven at 8".  In the coming weeks, I will provide a platform for questions and open discussion from the 20 chapters. Regardless of whether you purchased the book in the past or not, you can still contribute. 

If you are asking how, it's easy, I will post each chapter, and later post the discussion questions. 

What To Look Forward To:

Embracing Me Memoir Book II: "16 Tears"

SNAPSHOT: As a growing teenager I finally asserted myself against my sexual and physical abuser, only to find I was a highly vulnerable and extremely naive little girl. Becoming a prostitute was not an option, yet I searched for love in all the wrong places, landing myself in unusual circumstances. Quite often I entertained the thought of suicide. Just at the point of giving up on life, I found out I was pregnant. My tears were endless but somehow I found the courage, strength, and faith to go on. I mean, killing myself was one thing, but taking the life of a baby - I could not bring myself to that.

Embracing Me Memoir Book III: "Death At 24"

SNAPSHOT: All grown up now - developing a growing relationship with my former abuser, beating the odds against a debilitating chronic illness, in love, married with three beautiful jewels, working hard, in college, contemplating home ownership as well as entrepreneurship and then, the unthinkable happened - My mother died from a heart attack. How could this be - orphaned at age 24. When she died, a part of me died too.

Embracing Me Memoir Book IV: "32 The Awakening"

SNAPSHOT: After much trauma, a failed marriage, broken friendships and relationships, losing EVERYTHING - I woke up to some harsh, but very true realities. Sex and food had been my vices - some might even call them addictions. I realized why I felt stuck and what was necessary to change the perpetuated cycle for not just myself, but for generations to come. The awakening caused an internal implosion and the fight for restoration began IN me but most assuredly was no easy task.

MORE TO COME...STAY TUNED

"In order to know who you really are, 

In order to know the power which you possess, In order to grow, 

In order to live and be free, 

You must first be willing to embrace every moment…

The days before your existence, 

The days when you came to be and the legacy that you will leave behind… 

Know thyself, Embrace who you are"

~ Stacie J Whitaker-Harris

I Had A Plan

Before I share my plan, I would like to extend seasons greetings to you and your family!

Once upon a time I had a plan. One filled with big dreams, high hopes, major expectations, fulfillment and excitement. This plan included a very rigid and structured outline regarding the precise process as well as the most direct route to accomplish each step. First of all, it took a big heart, courage, and bold faith to set out on roads unknown to me, but I was determined to do what my heart desired to fulfill each vision as well as my purpose.

I mean, who sets out to be a first generation college graduate when statistics (and people) say it's highly unlikely given that I was a teenage mother? Who helps those in need regardless of their own needs? Who mentors girls and boys alike because they believe in them? Who studies multiple languages because they enjoy both communication and learning other cultures? Who advocates for the least vigorously, when they themselves are deemed least? Who fights injustices ferociously with limited resources? Who goes against what is popular to institute what is right? Who boost the morale of those considered outcast in order to encourage them as well as remind them, they too are an intricate part of society - no matter their past.

You guessed it - ME, Stacie Joyce Whitaker-Harris. I had intentional plans to participate in the unpopular with no other motive than to help make the world a little better simply by doing my small part. 

With twist, turns, ups, downs, sickness, death, disappointment, and so often, very few in my corner to lift me when I found myself lacking that "self-starter - go-get-it" drive most are accustomed to seeing me function from, I lost sight of the plan. Frustrated and overwhelmed, I found myself trapped in a past plan...looking for a route back to that road. My mentor would often remind me that I could just start a new road, but being the stubborn, often "one-track-minded" person I am, I grimaced at the thought. 

Now today, after many months of trying to get back to a past desired path (plan), I've finally realized how critical my elders advice was to my progression as well as the fulfillment of my prior vision. The dips, curves, and sink holes in life were simply there for continued guidance. Once I stopped looking at the changes as "bad" I realized I was actually still on course with my plan. 

Albert Einstein's quote, "The measure of intelligence is the ability to change" basically says, be flexible and change will happen smoothly and that my friend, is SMART! With that said, I leave you all who much like myself, have plans, with this final quote by Kevin Thoman, "I want to caution you against the idea that balance has to be a routine that looks the same week in and week out".

New Year's resolutions are meant to improve moment by moment, be flexible to the change that is happening both, within and outwardly. 

30 Years of Falling

Although it wasn’t funny to me, my children still laugh about the time I fell while out running years ago. They don’t laugh at the fact that I was hurt, but at the ridiculousness of how it happened. Still, for me, that fall was devastating—it triggered an avalanche in my life, a domino effect I never saw coming.

The fall brought physical pain. The pain stole my ability—and my desire—to walk. Not being able to run led to anxiety, worry, doubt, and fear. Those emotions paved a road toward hopelessness. And that road led straight to severe depression. I became stuck, incapable of caring for myself or my family—physically, emotionally, and especially financially.

That fall was the last thing I needed after struggling for years to regain balance from losing everything, including becoming homeless in 2009. Despite my best efforts, the weight of that hardship took a toll on me and my family, and it took a lengthy period of time to get back on track in every way. But today, as I reflect, I realize the true lesson isn’t about how often I’ve fallen—it’s about how I’ve climbed out of those pits of despair. My faith in God and love have always been my anchors, keeping me steady even in life’s harshest storms.

Earlier today, a young man asked me, “How did you recover after falling down?”

I told him that the moment I stopped focusing on my circumstances, the false burden of hopelessness lifted from my shoulders. And in that moment, I soared. I literally got up and started running. I ran to implement new business practices. I ran to volunteer at church. I ran to open my home to vulnerable persons. I ran to create spaces where women felt safe to come in and talk. And I didn’t know it then, but I was discipling women—offering them a space where they felt safe enough to open up and give parts of themselves.

If you ever find yourself lost in the weight of your circumstances, remember this: You are not defined by the fall. You are shaped by how you rise. Let these words guide you back to your strength, your wings, and your hope:

 

"Don't dwell on what went wrong. Instead focus on what to do next. Spend your energy moving forward together towards an answer" (Denis Waitley)

"Sometimes you don't realize your own strength until you come face to face with your greatest weakness" (Susan Gale) 

"Forget what hurt you but never forget what it taught you" (Unknown) 

"Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose" (Lyndon B. Johnson) 

"Sometimes the hardest part isn't letting go but rather learning to start over" (Nicole Sobon) 

"The strongest of all warriors are these two - Time and Patience" (Leo Tolstoy) 

 "Achievement is conquering even the coldest of nights by creating heat with constant movement" (Stacie J. Whitaker-Harris)

May the falls in your life become springs ever blossoming!

Originally written December 21, 2014
Revised March 30, 2025

 

A Beautiful Flaw

My children often accuse me of searching for, seeking, finding and seeing the good in bad situations, in people, in places, and in things - especially, life events. 

Well, as I sit reminiscing about my dearly departed mother, I am reminded of her constant teaching regarding optimism. At an early age she recognized my tender heart and began cultivating me.

Her words resonate throughout my being this morning as I sit faced with a few of life's challenges. I hear her words, "Stacie, you are so soft and the more I try to get you to become tougher all I see is your heart in your eyes. If this is who you are than you may as well get ready for the twist and turns in life. Be able to find the good so that you can stay motivated with that same zeal, enthusiasm, magnetic, bubbly personality."

These words shaped me in so many ways. Today I encourage you to make fresh, sweet tasting orange juice out of rotten sour lemons. Sounds crazy but it's possible!

"There are always flowers for those who want to see them" (Henri Matisse)

I hear her voice

Today I hear the beautiful melodious voice of Ella Fitzgerald - she's not singing, but rather, she's talking to me. Her words:

"Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration I don't think you can go wrong"

See, I've spent my lifetime dreaming of the future, not just my own, but the future of the world. Constantly I drift off into a world of peace, unity, and love. A world where starvation is a thing of the past. A world where a loving two-parent household serves as example and instruction for our youth to follow. A world where the village is unselfish and supportive. A world without worry or care for the life of our sons for they are shielded by the love of both the two-parent household and the villagers. 

I dream of a world without sickness and disease. One void of oppression and political schemes. A world with coexistence, harmony, and all committed to the preservation of life. I see beyond the now, embracing the healing of nations beginning with me.

See, I am a dreamer. And therefore, I hear the voices of my distant relatives constantly nudging me to be exactly who I am created to be - a light a midst darkness. I am a revived hope and so today I soak up the beautiful, courageous, example through the words of Ella and am reminded to stay the course for humanities sake.

I too encourage you to BE, and never stop believing in the beauty of the world and in each person you encounter regardless of it's fading...regardless of it's blemishes...regardless of it's sunken hope - BE the gift of God's presence in the earth. Be love, Be light, Be laughter. The world needs you to carry on!

Happy Holidays

Holiday Sales

 

Discounts for Bookworms - Up to 30% off

 

 Hell & Heaven at 8 chronicles the first eight years of my life, telling an all to familiar story of tragedy, torture, and trials but ultimately, my determination to live triumphantly. Dedicated to every young girl, woman and any male who experienced the discomforts and humiliation of watching family members, especially fathers and mothers, waste away, being consumed by drugs and alcohol. Equally, the book is dedicated to the neglected, abandoned and anyone who has ever suffered from sexual, physical, mental or verbal abuse.

 

Purchase your book today and be ready for the release of the final three books in the Embracing Me Memoir Series June 2015: 16 Tears, Death at 24, & 32 The Awakening
 

The Whitaker Book of Poetry is a collection of poems written by the seven oldest of my mother's grandchildren and three of her five children, including myself. We are indeed sharing our legacy with you through the collective strokes of our pens. A percentage of each sale helps us with the creation of a foundation in honor of our parents in order that we may give scholarships and other grants for the development of young entrepreneurs.

 

 

 

 

My Now for the College Grad features the collaboration of twenty-six college graduates from around the country, which includes me (Stacie J. Whitaker-Harris), who have used their educational success to achieve life success. It is intended to provide readers with the motivation needed to take action in achieving success after college and to make the most of each life choice. Filled with stories, tips, and  techniques that will inspire readers to seize the moment - NOW!

 

 

More BANG for your buck...
The more you buy, the more you save

Hell & Heaven at 8 $11.99 USDWhitaker Book of Poetry $11.99 USDMy Now for the College Grad $14.95 USDH&H@8 and WhitPoetry $23.98 USDH&H@8 and MyNow $25.00 USDWhitPoetry and MyNow $25.00 USDAll Three Books $36.00 USD

 

Thank you in advance for your purchase!
Thank you for visiting!



 

Our Deepest Fear

Yesterday I did something I rarely do. I sat still for two hours watching television, more specifically, the movie Coach Carter. For me, it was a well deserved break from the current duties and responsibilities of reading (A LOT), writing, and researching. Equally, that two hours served as not only relaxation but also motivation and an urgent reminder of the WHY I dedicate my time to this particular project.


Here are some of the nuggets or motivational reminders I acquired from watching Coach Carter: 

• Be committed
• Go the extra mile
• Never stop believing
• Consistency matters
• Teams are powerful when they realize the power of unity
• Focus your attention on what you want until you achieve it, and then, surpass even that
• Other people's expectations of you have nothing to do with what you expect of yourself

But the greatest lesson/reminder of all was the sharing of Marianne Williamson's powerful quote:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.  It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.  We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you NOT to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world.  There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people will not feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do.

We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.  It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same.  As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." 

Reflect on this beautifully written quote. Consider your deepest fears and then let them all go, move forward, and keep shining. I believe in the powerful light that is within you. Now, I pray, YOU believe!!!

UnCommon

I am not average. Never have been. Can't be
Don't desire to be. I wasn't built, created, or made averagely

My expectations are through the roof
My faith is bigger than the universe
My love is forgiving and kind...
...it is enormous beyond eternity
My heart is warm, inviting, and accepting
My strength is greater than what's seen by the naked eye

Yes, I cry...
I cry for the wounded,
...for the lost
...for the sick
...for the weary
...for the empty
...for the hungry
...for the homeless
...for the closed minded
...for sons and daughters
...for sisters and brothers
...for mothers and fathers
...for the ones lacking peace
...for drug users and pushers
...for the abused and abusers
...for the hopeless and suicidal
...for the ones seeking revenge
...for the deprived and rejected
...for the mentally incapacitated
...for broken, segmented families
...for the lack of love of human life
...for the deceived as well as the deceivers
...for the murdered as well as the murderous
...for leaders exploiting those whom they were sent to serve
...for the ones being pimped, prostituted, probed and left for dead

I am UnCommon because I live...
...live through pain, strain, stains and somehow manage to remain sane

I am UnCommon because I survived...
...survived and yet still thrive beyond all that seeks to snuff out life

I am UnCommon because I emanate light...
...though it dims at times, it never quite blows out

I am UnCommon because I am resilient...
...Elastic, durable, bendable, but simply unbreakable

I Am UnCommonly Me!!!


#EmbracingMe

Running Slowly

As I reflect over the course of the last year, the last few months, and especially over the last few days; I am at peace with my overall development. In almost 40 years and throughout the course of my life's journey I learned NOTHING is at it appears. I am humbled and honored that God trust me enough to grant me longer life, deeper, more passionate purpose to fulfill.

During the past year, my faith was challenged and I learned that mustard seed faith grows faith and requires greater faith in both God and the God within self. I woke up to what keeps me motivated, positive, and strong and released what paralyzes, demobilizes, and stifles my God-given talent, abilities, gifts and focus.

In all these things, the most important thing I learned is that baby steps matter! Movement is still movement even if it's slow. So, I am running slowly - or as some may say: "I am learning to run the race at a slower pace with crisp, clear, concise vision on not only the end result (outcome) but with intense passion for the purpose in which I began running!"

As I continue to Embrace Me, knowing every step matters, I encourage you to RUN, but do it slowly. Be Bold! Be Consistent! Be Brave! Be Energetic! Be Resilient!

Be ALIVE in every moment of your life, embracing every outcome!
 
DECLARATION:
May you run and not grow weary
May you run and not faint
May you run and keep pace
May you run and win because you simply stayed the course

 

Adventures of the bold, faith-filled & chosen

Happy Wednesday World!

As I sit here considering the day's journey, I am reminded of the following:

1. To EVERYTHING there is a season, and a time for every matter or purpose under heaven
( Ecclesiastes 3 : 1 AMP )

2. I have seen something else under the sun: The race is not to the swift or the battle to the strong, nor does food come to the wise or wealth to the brilliant or favor to the learned; but time and chance happen to them all.
( Ecclesiastes 9 : 11 NIV )

3. Do you not know that in a race all the runners compete, but [only] one receives the prize? So run [your race] that you may lay hold [of the prize] and make it yours. Now every athlete who goes into training conducts himself temperately and restricts himself in all things.

They do it to win a wreath that will soon wither, but we [do it to receive a crown of eternal blessedness] that cannot wither. Therefore I do not run uncertainly (without definite aim). I do not box like one beating the air and striking without an adversary. But [like a boxer] I buffet my body [handle it roughly, discipline it by hardships] and subdue it...
(1 Corinthians 9:24-27 AMP)

4. We are experiencing all kinds of trouble, but we aren’t crushed. We are confused, but we aren’t depressed. We are harassed, but we aren’t abandoned. We are knocked down, but we aren’t knocked out.
( 2 Corinthians 4 : 8 - 9 CEB )

5. All of our thoughts are known to God. He can understand what is in the mind of the Spirit, as the Spirit prays for God's people. We know that God is always at work for the good of everyone who loves him.

They are the ones God has chosen for his purpose, and he has always known who his chosen ones would be. He had decided to let them become like his own Son, so his Son would be the first of many children. God then accepted the people he had already decided to choose, and he has shared his glory with them.

What can we say about all this? If God is on our side, can anyone be against us? God did not keep back his own Son, but he gave him for us. If God did this, won't he freely give us everything else? If God says his chosen ones are acceptable to him, can anyone bring charges against them? Or can anyone condemn them? No indeed!

Christ died and was raised to life, and now he is at God's right side, speaking to him for us. Can anything separate us from the love of Christ? Can trouble, suffering, and hard times, or hunger and nakedness, or danger and death?

I am sure that nothing can separate us from God's love—not life or death, not angels or spirits, not the present or the future, and not powers above or powers below. Nothing in all creation can separate us from God's love for us in Christ Jesus our Lord!
( Romans 8 : 27 - 35, 38 - 39 CEVDCUS06)

6. His anger lasts for only a second, but his favor lasts a lifetime. Weeping may stay all night, but by morning, joy! You changed my mourning into dancing. You took off my funeral clothes and dressed me up in joy so that my whole being might sing praises to you and never stop. Lord, my God, I will give thanks to you forever.
( Psalms 30 : 5, 11 - 12 CEB )

7. No weapon formed against you shall prosper, And every tongue which rises against you in judgment You shall condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord , And their righteousness is from Me,” Says the Lord.
( Isaiah 54 : 17 NKJV )

As peaceful as the day began, does the night conclude. May you reflect upon these words as I have done, remembering, you are not alone and you are greatly loved!


Blessings of love,

Stacie

I AM EMBRACING ME

RAINBOW OF HOPE

Great day & happy Sunday!

I've been launched into something greater!

I am embedded in the heart of God. He is my shield. He is my strength. And just as I am in Him, He also abides within me. He is my core.

I don't regret one moment of the life I've lived thus far because all my bad behaviors, foul attitudes, poor choices, ill thinking, bad language - EVERYTHING, all remind me I am still a work in progress and I can see where I need work.

Today, I am filled with peace, despite yesterday's dreary gloom. There is still hope, and a rainbow at the end of the tunnel for both you and me.

Many blessings for a bright day filled with love, compassion, forgiveness, and faith for the changes that are taking place...even when we cannot see them.

Blessings With Love,

Stacie

I AM EMBRACING ME

Just Life

I have all these post just waiting to be written, completed and published on this site. I am certain that so many others will identify with many if not most of them but it seems, life just keeps happening. Maybe the title of this post reads as if I am going to discuss or teach on living a just life, but that is not my thought for today. I simple want to say, no matter who you are, what degrees you have obtained, how many countries you've traveled to, what position you hold at your job, church or community, it is inevitable that life will just keep happening.

What do I mean by that? I mean as a loving Mother of three of God's greatest gifts to me (my Jewels), as a Minister, Teacher, Preacher, leader, servant, friend and all the other hats I wear, there comes great responsibility. Regardless of whatever "monkey wrenches" are thrown my way I have to remind myself that it's just life and because life will keep happening I must not get stuck in the twist of "the monkey wrenches".

Sometimes that's easier said than done...at least initially anyway! Listen, I had to go through some tough courses simply so I could be an example of just living so I can just live a just life! So I am ready to share through this blog the many lessons I've learned during my writing sabbatical (definition: extended period of leave from ones normal work) Why? Because:

Somebody's freedom is contingent upon my ability to break free & remain free!

Somebody's hope is reliant on my hope!

Somebody's press depends on my press!

Somebody's breakthrough needs my breakout!

Somebody's healing is tied to my healing!

Somebody's heart needs my heart in order to live!

I am NOT an island but I AM CHOSEN TO JUST BE!

I am the apple of God's eye (by the way, so are you!)

Stand firm in what you believe regardless of a life that is sure and certain to keep being.



Remember, I love you, I truly love you, but God will always love you best. I'm praying for you!

Blessings in abundance,

Stacie

Moment by Moment

Today's scriptures:
Philippians 4:6-7 Ecclesiastes 3:1-8
Proverbs 3:5

TODAY'S WORD:  Title: Moment by Moment

January 23, 2014, I went to the hospital due to excruciating pain. Being pregnant, my concern was that of my unborn son. I tried not to be nervous or anxious so I prayed silently but once I saw blood I must admit, I freaked out.

After settling into a room the nurse checked my blood pressure which was sky high. Next she checked for the babies heartbeat, finding none. With both a sense of confusion and a remorseful look on her face she tried telling me that the equipment was a little faulty. She tried reassuring me letting me know the doctor would be in to check behind her. Upon the doctors arrival, inspection, exam and a zillion questions - many of which I don't even know if I answered; the doctor confirmed my fear, I miscarried.

Instantly, I began to wail. My Sister and sons father tried comforting me but all I could do was think about how attached I'd become with this little being growing in my womb. I thought of all I did, possibly right, but certainly I thought of what I could have done wrong to cause this devastation.

I cried for three days straight. (And I still weep, some days more than others). Blood pressure remained elevated. Head ached. Womb ached. Heart ached. Mind blown.

As I shared the news with those closes to me, they too grieved. Some prayed for me. Some sat with me in silence just holding my hand. Some held me and allowed me to cry. Others encouraged me to keep pushing. "Go back to work," they said, "being busy will take your mind off of it."

Others insisted that God knows best. They quoted scriptures and told me to lean on God. Some even encouraged me to praise and worship God in the midst of my sorrows. While others explained that I had no reason to be filled with sadness.

Today, I would like to remind everyone to live each day to the fullest. Appreciate good times as well as the not so good times. Allow yourself to go through whatever process presenting itself at the time it comes, for the word tells me that there is a time, season, and purpose for all things.

Don't rush. Don't try busying yourself. Don't suppress how you feel. Go through your process. Cry, scream, holler if necessary but equally, be vigilant to listen to the still soft voice of God and know when your grieving period has come to a conclusion. Maybe some of the pains and thoughts of what could have been will still come but depression is NOT an option.

Let the joy of the Lord be your strength. Allow God to hold you in His loving and nurturing arms because no matter who you are surrounded by or what their experiences have been, no one will know exactly where you are or how you feel at the core of your being but God. As my Pastor always says, "each trial comes to develop you not to destroy you"

Be still in times of regret, pain, sorrow and contemplation knowing, God is GOD!

May you surrender every care and concern to God.
May you be tried and proven as a faithful believer knowing, God does all things well.
May you be renewed and strengthened.
May you recovery expeditiously.
May you have a peace that surpasses all understanding.
May you come out as the victorious conqueror God already deemed you to be!
May you remain hopeful, bold, and fearless as you are being groomed for the next magnificent portion of your journey.

Remember this as well, everything is not about the enemy or punishment for some wrong - plenty of what happens in our lives (EVERYTHING),  is simply the will of God for He does truly know, care and does ALL things well. If there is ever any example of God's testing, Job is the perfect candidate to examine. God allowed everything that happened in his life simply to prove that he was a righteous man. He (Job) did NOT blame God for his loses, hurt or pain but instead he humbled himself in prayer, rebuking even his wife.

Trust God moment by moment my friend! This is NOT the end but a stepping stone to a vibrant new beginning.

Reflections of my heart

First I would like to take a moment and give greetings to each of you for a new, healthy (mentally, physically, & spiritually) year of growth, love that is pure, compassion, creativity, centered with peace, joy, happiness and altogether, wellness and abundance!

Last year, 2013 was full of surprises and difficulties ranging from broken relationships to challenges related to my health, financial woes as well as decline in business growth  which in turn, weighed heavy on my mind as well as my spirit. What's amazing to me is though I claim to be a woman of great faith, and I am, I found myself in a weakened state which brought me to question my own faith. I found myself unable to write or blog which is evident in the decline of blogs posted from 2011 & 2012 where I posted, on average, about 50 post per year to less than 20 post for 2013.

Well, November 23, 2013, the day before my 38th birthday, I was sitting in a cafe sipping hot and energizing mint tea. I had been in prayer all morning, as I was soul searching what I needed to do to get back on track - not just with writing, but developing and especially living. I needed to find peace again which somehow had slipped away. I needed to regain my confidence in love, purpose in living, insistence in giving, growing and thriving. I needed to find a reason to laugh from the core of my belly.

Sitting there, sipping, thinking, praying and at times, wiping the few tears as they trickled down my face, someone sent me a video about dreaming, purpose and getting unstuck. The spirit of the words resonated at the core of my being. I realized I was doing the very thing I speak against in ministry and in life - I was acting, moving, functioning as and being a product of my circumstance.

At that moment I took a deep breath remembering the final lesson from the previous year's teaching on blessings and curses (per the daily prayer call). The object of the enemy is to steal, kill, and ultimately destroy - but, what exactly is it that is subject to being stolen, murdered and brought to destruction? The object of the enemy is to make you question yourself to a point where he injects mental confusion, fear, self-destructive attitudes which lead to destructive behaviors. He sends distractions like the wolves in sheeps clothing. He desires to disrupt peace. He gives the illusion of a thing being "good" - you know, "the grass being greener on the other side" sort of picture. He wants us impatient and anxious. He wants us void of hope and desolate of faith.

Why? So he can let his decoys in to lead us astray. He feeds off of our "flesh" desires. He is the master of trickery. Thus, his main goal is to get us so wrapped up in pity, anger, hate, lust, money - essentially, the "feel goods" - over indulging in anything that makes us "feel good" even if we know better.  He then wants our lack of self-control to weigh on our minds (emotions/feelings) so we can feel guilty, unworthy, useless - you know BAD about who we are and to whom we belong. He would love nothing more if we would simply quit believing in God. In fact, he wants us to denounce God.

As I reflected in the cafe and as I reflect at this moment I am determined to not only say I am fully armed each day but to be prepared beginning with guarding my mind - my own thoughts. I now know that I must use not only discernment but wisdom, which includes the advice and counsel of the Elders. I cannot allow myself to sink into situations and circumstances, but instead, use them as tools for growth. In other words, take the lessons and leave the junk and clutter that tries to invade my mental space, heart and spirit. Besides, God's word says He wishes for us to be in good health and to prosper. He makes ways of escape and we must be willing to crucify the flesh for different, greater and more rewarding outcomes when we do not yield to the mind of the flesh.

As I reflect, I remember every point where I felt low, alone, forgotten, unwanted and even stupid for loving people and not prejudging who I think they are based on my past experiences. And though we should love and give and be kind and NOT prejudge, we still cannot just connect with everybody because "we feel" it's what we are supposed to do.

I am learning to listen to the heart, voice and word of God more intently. I realize I've done so much out of the spirit of "do-good" and left God out of my initial decisions to engage.

This year I made no resolutions. I simply set my heart to work diligently on what I already know I should be doing. I could bombard this page with a zillion scriptures to support various places where I've grown but for now, I simply want to share my heart and thank the many people who support and encourage me as I push forward in this journey called life. Be well and may God shed light in your heart and through your circumstances so you can be at peace with YOU!