Today I pictured myself as a little girl walking by the wooden house. I wanted to revisit my past and see the beauty of it one more time. As I glanced in the doorway I could see Mrs. Bell sitting in her favorite chair as the smell of fried chicken seeped through the window tickling my nose; her smile and laughter made me pause and reflect. As her gray hairs glistened her smile was radiant she looked so happy. As I grabbed her hand death forbid me to bring her along.
As I blinked my eyes I was no longer in the past but the present. The sunlight had awoken me out of a deep trance, but as I looked beside me there stood the wooden house. The house was no longer full of life, but abandoned, the door was no longer there and the house was mangled. I could no longer hear the laughter or smell the fried chicken but I felt a breeze of loneliness and it longed to live on.
Recently a church across the street caught on fire and speculation began to float around the community of how it happened. First they said kids playing with matches, then they said drug addicts getting high. The cause will probably never be known, but one thing I know for sure is that the building is no longer suitable to be a place of worship.
The day after the incident I went across the street and looked at the church. The building was a total loss, how could anyone ever worship within those walls again? As I thought on those things the Lord spoke to my spirit and said “you are the church, you worship inward and that flows outward.” The Lord reminded me that he is not coming back for the building but the spirit that dwells within us that has accepted him as Lord and Savior.
Then I asked the Lord about Hebrews 12:23 and assembling together; I don’t mind assembling I just don’t want to get so caught up in earthly buildings and neglect the building that is holding my soul. Nowadays people are bringing Satan in the church with the ways of the world.
Then he continued with this reminder, it’s time to become a church that holds standards. As Paul witnessed this earthly body will suffer but my salvation comes from the Holy Spirit that dwells within . Stop focusing on the things going on around you and focus on me and my word. God continued, I’m coming back for a church without a spot or wrinkle, you must be ready when I return.
So he pops the question and you say YESSSSSSSSS without hesitation. You can’t wait to tell your parents so they can share the excitement with you, but to your surprise they are not happy. After months of pretending to like your boyfriend they really despise him and think he’s a no good loser. You are hurt, and your heart is torn into pieces. Elope, yes that’s the plan!!!!!!! Who are they to stand in the way of true love???????? Parents just don’t understand. You lock yourself up in your room pouting thinking life is cruel and then you hear a knock on the door it’s your parents. They still don’t like him but if he makes you happy they will put their feelings aside. After a year of planning the day is finally here, you have the perfect venue, the most beautiful dress and you’re surrounded by your family and friends. You say I do; you’re happy, you have taken his last name and become his wife. Life is perfect…. a year later you have twins, he has the perfect job, you’re a stay at home mom. Then it happens, you catch him with another woman, he says it’s a friend…. you ponder his answer but he looks at her the way he use to look at you. Your parents were right, two babies later you are packing up your belongings headed back to a place you swore you would never come back to, if you had only listened to them.
They want to voice their opinion but don’t want anyone to know who they are. Mysterious yet intriguing, one who hides their identity from social media websites but always have so much to say. Commenting on everything that is public, sometimes being very rude, but when you go to their profile to see the face behind the comment you find a flower or a quote where their picture should be. I get it, the world we live in makes one want to hide their identity, but this shouldn’t be an option for cowards who sit behind a computer screen and type words that they wouldn’t normally say to anyone’s face. I’ve labeled these people the “big bad wolf” huffing and puffing blowing nothing down. They see you and run the other way, you don’t know who they are but they know you. Once you block them they catfish, meaning they assume another identity with a different flower and quote because your posts are obviously worth following.
I use to pray every night asking God to bless me with my dream job, I use to pray every night asking God to bless me with a husband , I use to pray every night asking God to watch over my girls, I use to pray every night asking God to bless me with a son; every night I prayed this “asking” prayer. Fast forward to 2017 and I find myself not praying like I use to , what happened to my prayerful spirit? I will tell you what happened I got the blessings and forgot the blessor. Everything I asked God for he gave it to me, but everything I said I would do in return for those blessings I didn’t do. I failed on my end, but God still did everything I asked him for and more. I was selfish and undeserving but God’s grace and mercy was sufficient. Lessons were learned and I’m now back praying and thanking God that his love towards me never wavered and that he gave me another chance to get it right.
🎼 Have you ever loved somebody so much it makes you cry, have you ever needed something so bad you can’t sleep at night – Brandy
As a young woman growing up in the 90’s you would take songs that were relatable to the situations in your life and make them your anthem. I remember singing this song until I would fall asleep at night thinking I couldn’t go on without that special someone. I would blast my walkman with my headphones glued to my ears singing so loudly wishing he could hear me, wishing he could hear the hurt in my voice.
I truly thought I was hurt by him not loving me, I truly thought I couldn’t go on, but as I grew older I realized the hurt that I felt didn’t come from him not loving me, but from me not loving myself. The love we shared was superficial; puppy love, crush love.
One night my anthem was blasting and then I uttered “have you ever needed something so bad” and then tears began to flow; I had sung that particular verse several times relating it to that lost love that was once in my life, but this time I related it to my father who had abandoned me at birth, I needed and wanted a relationship with him so badly.
At that particular moment in time an overwhelming feeling came upon me and then it hit me like a ton of bricks, all of those years without him, trying to fill a void of not having him in my life with a boy that was only capable of loving the first woman he had ever known, his mother. I was actually using him, he was using me, we were using each other. We both needed something from one another; affection which consisted of short kisses on the lip that made you get butterflies in your stomach, conversations that would last on the phone until our momma made us hang up. It didn’t make it right, but it was right in our eyes.
Now that I know what love truly is I am thankful to have it in my life, it’s not superficial but real. Wondering did my dad ever love me, wondering did he ever have real love for my mom, just wondering. Through all my heartaches I have learned that in order to love anyone, you must first fall in love with yourself and be true to the feelings in your heart; hopefully, just hopefully my dad loved himself enough to love me.
As I step out of the shadow of my ancestors who were taunted for their hair texture, I smile at the hatred of those that mock a generation of African Queens. Constantly called names that put down their beauty, did they not see the crown on their heads. Let me introduce myself I’m Afro-Nique, given the birth name of Sabrina to kill the stereotype of those who were named Shaquanda and Lawanda, you will be surprised how far a “GOOD” name will get you. I wear the scars of those that paved the way for my nose, my lips, my hips, for they are attached to my heritage, deeply woven by nooses that are now loosened, to chains that have been broken, to set me free. You think you know me but the pain is skin deep. I hold no grudges I rise above all that was meant to keep me down. I’m Afro-nique, not born to banded, branded, or disenchanted, but born to be ME!!
For those who own a bike you know the only way you can get your bike to stand is by using a “kickstand” the purpose of the stand is to hold the bike upright to prevent it from falling. I will use that term metaphorically in my short blog because it makes the most sense when I discuss standing relationships. If you’ve never had problems in your relationship this blog is not for you, but if you have read on. Some of you are in desperate need of a “kickstand” relationship; someone to hold you up and be there when the chips are down, someone to share the finances when you’re struggling to stay afloat, someone to lean on, so you don’t fall. Everyone needs a “kickstand” a good sturdy one that will hold the weight of their relationship and keep it from falling to pieces.
They say you’re damamged goods, no good to no one else. They say you’re worthless, no value at all. They say you’re tarnished, your luster is gone.
They’ve torn you down and made you feel life is not worth living. You decide to take your life, suicide is an easy way out, no one will miss you, you say. Who wants to be worthless, who wants to be tarnished, who wants to be damaged goods. You’re better off dead, you say.
Worthless but still living, tarnished but still living, damaged but still living.
Don’t do it, don’t take your life, you were born to live! We all face trials, we all face obstacles, we are all valuable, we can be restored.
I can remember sitting in English class and my seventh grade teacher Dr. Crowell would give us writing assignments. I would sit there half of the period twiddling my thumbs because I didn’t know what to write about. One day as he was walking around the class he came and stood by my desk and said “writing is easy if you apply yourself, but the first thing you must do is brainstorm.” He then went to the board and start drawing these little circles that he would write words in and draw a line connecting to another circle. “This will help you become a great writer,” he said. That one lesson stuck with me and has helped me to channel my thoughts on paper before I even start writing a book. Dr. Crowell left this world sometime ago, but his teachings were instilled in me. I’m proud to say through brainstorming I was able to release “She Knew Too Much” on Amazon and it’s my second paperback release. To view my books click on the link below.