Dancing at Christmas

As the Christmas season approaches and soon the beginning of a brand new year, I am thinking often about what has happened throughout the year.

As the year began, my mom was dealing with severe and crippling back issues. As the months went on, her posture worsened until she was walking with a walker stooped over to almost a 45 degree angle. She was in agonizing pain all of the time, the kind of pain that would immobilize most people. And yet she kept going, kept working, kept moving and even slowly kept dancing at church. 

Anyone who's ever seen Phyllis praising at church knows she loves to dance in the aisles as the Spirit leads. She's a praiser and dance is one of the ways she worships.

In May, she had back surgery which almost took her life. I talk a little bit about it here: My Final Influence. It was the most terrified I think I'd ever been. But imagine my tears during first PT session when I saw her standing upright. She was moving like a snail, one small shuffling step at a time, but she was going forward, head up and deep breathing. 

Her entire recovery was painful, slow, and frustrating. She had several setbacks during the summer, but still it took a whole lot of us keep her sitting still to give her body the chance to heal. 

But still in all, when in church, she tried to dance, even with her walker and eventually with her cane. Nothing was going to stop her praise. 

She got increasingly better, month over month. By the end of the summer, she was back leading the Usher Board and singing in the women's choir. 

I watched her this past Sunday, singing about how the Lord has healed her body. I marveled at how upright she was standing and how fast her feet where moving as she praised up and down the aisle. I marveled at the miracle that is Phyllis Jackson, the miracle that God performed for her and how faithful He is. 

Because through all of it, she NEVER stopped giving God glory. NEVER stopped believing in her healing. NEVER gave up on God's promises. Even when literally standing at the threshold of death's door. 

So to you, who may be going through your own painful season, whether it is physical, emotional, or spiritual pain, NEVER give up on God. He has your healing at hand. Your breakthrough is just around the corner but you must endure until it comes. You have to keep praising, keep praying, keep worshipping and most importantly keep believing. 

I know it may seem like you've been going through for a long time, but trust God that He has something for you during this time. You are either maturing, growing your faith or stretching your arms towards Him. All things that move you towards His promise to you. 

Keep the faith. 

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us. Romans 5:1-5

Keep dancing. 

In love, Mona

  

Pass the Stain Remover

If your house was like mine, you had a beautiful living room that you weren't allowed to step one foot in because it was for guests who never seem to come over even though they have a whole room assigned for their impending visit. 

Being the oldest of four, the living room was the only room that I could sneak off to and have some peace and quite. One day while seeking some solace from my sister's music and my brothers horse playing, I went into my mothers living room with a cup of red kook-aid, laid on the carpet and read a book. I heard a loud thump from upstairs, which startled me, causing me to drop the cup of red juice right on my mother's carpet. 

I hopped up and began to scrub the carpet with warm water and dish soap with no luck! I thought quickly, since I knew my mother would be home soon, and grabbed the large floor plant she had near by and moved it slightly over the spot covering it perfectly. Or so I thought. 

A week later my mother noticed the stain on her carpet. She quickly and loudly shouted my name and inquired about the stain. After explaining what had occurred my mother walked me through the steps of properly cleaning a stain and told me that by not cleaning it properly and covering it to hide it, I made removing the stain harder and although it would come clean it would take deeper and harder work to restore the carpet to a clean state. 

Reminiscing about that time in my childhood made me realize that many of us are like that with our Spiritual Father.  We do things that cause a stain on our spiritual garment and we try to take care of it on our own, and when we see that we can't, we try to cover it up, not knowing all along that our father "God" is just waiting on us to come to Him and tell him what we've done so that He can tell us what to do to clean it and make it right. 

The good news is it's not to late! You can still get it right and clean but it's just going to take some deeper and harder work to make it happen and if by chance you wait a little too long, replace the carpet and start over. No one knows but you and God. 

Be Blessed,
Sis Denise 

Flawed Logic

I have spent so much time staring at myself in the mirror counting up all of my physical flaws. From the kinky coils of my head to the surgical scar on my foot and every inch and pound in between. 

I have wondered if these lumps and bumps were the reason that I am still single. If the sagging and drooping of age had taken a final toll on the prospects of a love life. What do people see when they look at me? Certainly not what I see when I look at myself. 

And then He reminded me that I am "fearfully and wonderfully made." (Psalm 139:14)

I remembered that this body brought forth two beautiful children. These arms consoled friends through the tragedy of losing ones they loved. These knees bent in prayer for the heartbroken and lost. This behind sat down and these ears listened to stories of betrayal, assault, molestation and abandonment and these lips spoke life. 

This body, in part and as a whole,  has been used as God's instrument for His divine purpose. Who am I to question His creation. He who knew me before I was formed in my mother's womb?

"Mona," He whispered, "You are altogether beautiful, my darling. There is no flaw in you." (Song of Solomon 4:7)

My dearest woman or man of God, there is no flaw in you. Use your temple to uplift God and mankind. Be His chosen and flawless vessel. 

In love, 
Mona 

Removing the Bandaid

I recently re-read my entire blog. It was born in 2009 as I was trying to cope with my failing marriage. I am truly in awe of God when I look back at what I have gone through, thrived in and survived for the past 7 years. 

I once wrote a piece called "Looking Back" about how every now and again you need to look back to see how far you've come in your journey. It's so easy to ignore your growth and development in Christ - especially when you often feel like you're moving from crisis to crisis. But it is an important step to take so see that God has been bringing you along and moving your forward, even if you don't notice it. 

My journey to healing took a long, long time as I moved from faith to faithless and back again; from heartbreak and heartache to being heartened. Like the Children of Israel, I probably took ten times longer to get here than needed because of my stubbornness and stiff-necked ways. I went left when I should have gone right and ran when I should have walked but God was faithful anyhow. And here I sit, fingers moving along this same old raggedy but steady Macbook Pro keyboard, blogging as I have for the last 7 years. 

In the past years, I have suffered depression, near-ruin financially, an ill-planned move, my loss of faith. But as of now, I plan to look forward. I am removing the band-aid of my past blogs from my heart and mind because I have been healed. 

I was reminded that, like Jeremiah, I have a purpose and a destiny. "Then the Lord put forth His hand and touched my mouth, and the Lord said to me “Behold, I have put My words in your mouth. See, I have this day set you over the nations and over the kingdoms, to root out and to pull down, to destroy and to throw down, to build and to plant.” Jeremiah 1:9-10

I was reminded, like Timothy, that my lineage as rooted in the Gospel. "when I call to remembrance the genuine faith that is in you, which dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice, and I am persuaded is in you also. Therefore I remind you to stir up the gift of God which is in you through the laying on of my hands." 2 Timothy 1:6-7

So stir up the gifts is what I am going to do. I don't consider myself a prophet or preacher by any stretch of the imagination. But I will speak what thus sayeth the Lord. Mostly he'll be talking to me about my own life and my own journey of faith and I'll just share with you what He says. 

For those of us who are feeling unnecessary and unloved God says “But you, Israel, are My servant, Jacob whom I have chosen, The descendants of Abraham My friend. You whom I have taken from the ends of the earth, And called from its farthest regions, And said to you, ‘You are My servant, I have chosen you and have not cast you away: Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’” Isaiah 41:8-10 

God has a purpose and a plan for your life. But you're not going to open your mailbox and find it there. You aren't going to find your soulmate in Wegmans - trust me I've looked - but you will find your purpose in the Bible. You will find it in your prayer time and in your meditation with the Holy Spirit. Seek and ye shall find. Ask God to show you WHO you are, WHOSE you are and WHY you are. He will reveal it. 

So we all have some work to do. Here's to our journey forward. 

In love, 
Mona 

My Final Influence

When I think about the people who have had the most influence in my life, I think of my dad Charles Jackson, my grandmother Jessie Ray, my aunt Clorica Moore and of course my mom Phyllis Jackson. Each of them taught me critical things about life and love. 

I'm a "daddy's girl" through and through. My relationship with my father was one of unconditional love and support. He taught me how to be me; how to love and respect myself and to know that I could do anything I set my mind to do. He taught me to speak my mind, believe in myself and trust my instincts. He embodied the creation of my self-esteem. He died on October 1, 1993 but not before shaping me permanently.

My grandmother was wisdom personified. Our relationship was unique in that as a child she was like my mother, but as an adult she was like my friend. We drank coffee and talked endlessly about love and life. She told me things about her life that she had never shared with any of her children. She could be free with me without constraints, and I with her. She embodied my nurturing side. She died on April 14, 2002. 

My aunt Clo was all about family. She loved, valued and appreciated her parents, siblings, nieces and nephews. I don't know if it was because she never had any children of her own but family was everything. She would get together and barbecue on Flag Day if it was up to her. She united us. She would give her last to anyone in need. She was selfless to a fault. She was very much a second mom to me and our relationship was much more than aunt/niece. She embodied my love for family and my desire to give. She died on December 8, 2008.

And then there's mom. I don't even have the ability to talk about all that mom is to me. She embodies fully helping me to understand and develop my relationship with God, my faith and my strengths. I would do her a disservice trying to write down how I feel about her. I just couldn't do it justice. 

I almost lost her recently. She had surgery and there were complications. Serious ones. I spent 45 minutes in the surgical waiting room thinking that she must have died because they were taking so long and not updating me. I stared down the hall waiting for the surgeon to walk out and tell me that she was gone. But she wasn't. But God.

Then I saw her in the ICU for several day on a breathing machine and I thought she wasn't going to make it through those nights. But she did. I saw her enduring pain that threatened to have her want to give up on life. But she didn't. God has other plans. 

But I am so mindful that it was close. Too close for comfort for me. And I know in my logical mind that she's on the road to recovery but this has been more difficult to process than I have been willing to let on. I don't let on because at the end of the day this isn't about me and maybe I'm just being selfish because I want my mom to live forever.  

But I am being selfish because I want my mom to live forever. 

Because I don't know how to do this without her. I don't even know what "THIS" is but whatever it is, I want her here to give me guidance and advice. To remind me of God's purpose for me. To show me exactly what it means to praise your way through. To help me understand the power of faith, how to count it all joy and how to claim your healing despite the circumstances. To encourage me in my gifts and to let me know again that God has a plan. To preach the house down. To be the mother to the motherless and a friend to the lonely. To claim other women's daughters as her own spiritually and to nurture them through. To be here. 

I am blessed that at nearly 48 I still have my mom, but she's the last one of Those Who Made Me and I'm not ready to let her go. 

"Her children rise up and call her blessed. Her husband also, and he praises her. “Many daughters have done well, but you excel them all.” Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing, but a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise her in the gates." Proverbs 31:28-31 

In love, 
Mona

So What

They say that transparency is painful. For me it's terrifying. It seems easy to sit at your computer and type out all of your thoughts and feelings. And it is. It's often quite healing. But it's another thing entirely to post those thoughts to the internet and to share them with the world. It's exposing yourself on a whole other level. Not knowing what anyone will think or say about your fears and anxieties. Especially not knowing what Christians will think when you talk about trust issues with God, or faith failing you in times of crisis. But then I remember that this isn't about them, or about me. 

I've written about my loneliness before. But for the last several months this loneliness has taken on another layer. My dog Gizmo died in October. He was almost 15 and he lived a full and happy life. It was a truly hard thing to go through watching him literally lay down and die before my very eyes. Then 4 months later in February, I had to put my almost 13 year old dog Spike down. What an awful but necessary choice to have to make. Losing both of my beloved boys in 4 months left such a gaping hole in my life. 

All these years, I've said that it's just been me and the boys. When I came home, the boys were here. They were aging and slept a lot, but they were here. And now they aren't. And the silence in the house is deafening. They never barked but their absence is thick in the air. And I truly have never been more alone than I am right now. Never more lonely. 

When the kids were younger, I remember looking forward to the days when they would be grown and on their own, able to take care of themselves without me. It's what I spent their whole lifetimes preparing them for. But then it actually happened. They grew up and went out to forge their own futures. One is married and the other lives in a different city. They are happy and well-adjusted and healthy and making their own way in the world. It's everything I ever wanted. But I miss them. 

Brian and I are divorced. We are dear friends nowadays and I'm grateful for that. We check in on each other to make sure everything is good and I know we are better off than many divorced couples out there. But he's not here. 

I haven't been in a relationship in 16 months. So there's no boyfriend here either. 

No one is.

Don't get me wrong. I have family and friends and a great church family. But they aren't here either. They are all living their lives, like they are supposed to. It's just me. 

And lately I've been feeling the weight of that absence. I've been in church surrounded by families and music and The Word have felt the most alone ever. It's not good,

I cry about it sometimes. I yell at God about it sometimes, too but it doesn't change anything. Then Denise said "so what? God is good anyway."

"So what" is a place I'm working towards. I am praying for a "so what" spirit about my life, knowing that there is a purpose and a plan. And knowing that above all, it's God's timing. 

So pray with me that God develops this "so what" in my heart and mind while I wait for whatever He has in store. Or WHOever He has in store. 

In love, 

Mona

Left at the Gate

Recently my pastor spoke from Acts 3 about the lame man who was healed. 

"Now Peter and John went up together to the temple at the hour of prayer, the ninth hour. And a certain man lame from his mother’s womb was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, to ask alms from those who entered the temple; who, seeing Peter and John about to go into the temple, asked for alms. And fixing his eyes on him, with John, Peter said, “Look at us.” So he gave them his attention, expecting to receive something from them. Then Peter said, “Silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk.” Acts 3:1-6

Pastor Darryl's focus was on what Peter and John gave the man when they spoke to him with the authority of Jesus Christ. But I got stuck on verse 2: and a certain man lame from his mother’s womb was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, to ask alms from those who entered the temple;

There were people who carried this man every single day to the gate of the temple. We have to assume they were his friends because they took him every day. And even if we assume that the man had been doing it for, let's say, 10 years, they would have carried this man to the gate 3,650 times. I think you develop quite a relationship doing that. 

But my question is how come these friends never took him inside the temple?  

Okay, okay, apparently the lame weren't allowed inside the temple because of some Old Testament stuff (see 2 Samuel 5:8 although David used 'lame and blind to talk about the Jebusites and not actual people with disabilities...) HOWEVER...that's not  my point. 

Sometimes we have to see that we have friends who will take us to the gate but not all the way into the temple. It would seem that the lame man's friends probably really wanted to take him inside, so that he could give praises to God, but they couldn't. They weren't able to. And we probably have some friends like that too. 

They want to take us further, push us further, support us further, but they can't for whatever reason. Maybe they haven't gone as far and don't know the way. Maybe they don't really want you to go as far as you can. Maybe their sole purpose in this life is to simply bring you to the gate and leave you there. They leave you there so you can meet your own Peter and John, saints of God who simply tell you with authority to get up and go inside on your own.  

I've been thinking a lot about friendships, and relationships, lately, how strong they are, what they endure, and how long they last. And I'm starting to see those who could only bring me to the gate and those who were waiting for me when I got there.  And truth be told I'm completely and utterly grateful for all of them. There hasn't been one relationship in my life that hasn't taught me a lifetime of lessons; some good and some bad. But I am wiser all the same. 

My relationship with my ex-husband is one that I thought would end after the divorce, but it hasn't. We are truly friends and we really will last 'until death do us part', just not as man and wife. And that's okay.

I have see-you-every-now-and-again-friends, I-like-your-status-on-Facebook friends, hey-we met-on-Twitter-but-you-are-cool friends, see-you-at-church friends, ride-or-die friends, and I-would-give-you-my-last-dollar friends. I'm happy for each and every one. Not all can bring me to the gate. Some don't even know there is a gate! But each one is a part of my journey towards it and through it. And I consider myself truly blessed.  

The poor man is hated even by his own neighbor, But the rich has many friends. Proverbs 14:20 

Be blessed, 
Mona 

  

 

 

Keep On Keeping On

For He shall give His angels charge over you, to keep you in all your ways. In their hands they shall bear you up, lest you dash your foot against a stone. Psalm 91:11-12

I'm a kept woman. At least that's what I realized these last few weeks. God has been keeping me in the small but important ways. 

My oil light had been flickering a little but I had chalked it up to a fuse issue that I've been having. Then the knocking noise started. It was at least a week or two before I put those two pieces together and checked my oil. It was BONE DRY! I knew from checking online the significant damage that could have been done to my car, even after only driving it a few miles like that, much less a few weeks. 

I am counting that as my own personal miracle. 

More importantly, it helps me to see all of the ways that God keeps me on a daily basis. It forces me to recognize that times that I was dead broke but never went hungry and managed to always have just enough gas in the car to get where I needed to be. It's the small concept of being kept safe from harm. 

But greatest of all, it's knowing that I did nothing to deserve it. It's all God's grace and mercy. I'm no better than anyone else. I didn't go to church more, or worship more or attend bible study more. It's just because He loves me. 

And sometimes that's a hard concept to wrap my head around. 

I'm grateful. Oh so grateful, for the little things. 

And I just thought I'd tell you about it. What little keeps are you grateful for? 

Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Hebrews 4:16 
 
In love, 
Mona
 

Living Single

Last night I had a nightmare. It was a dream inside of a dream. I was sleeping, dreaming, and woke up. I went downstairs and saw that my sliding glass door was open. I knew I had closed it. I heard a noise and went into the kitchen to get a knife. All of the knives were missing except for the long bread knife - rounded tip and serrated blade. I grabbed the knife and a man came around the kitchen corner. I started slashing at him with my knife and then took off running out the back door. I opened my back gate to escape and woke up. I was terrified. My heart was racing a mile a minute, my head pounding and my whole body was shaking. I started to pray, as I always do when I wake up from a bad dream. But it wasn't enough. I was painfully aware of how alone I was. With no one there to soothe me, rub my back and tell me that it was going to be alright. I was alone. 

After 21 years of marriage, raising two kids and having dogs, it's been quite an adjustment to be alone. It's difficult to sleep alone, wake up alone, leave the house alone, come home alone, eat alone, read alone and just be alone, day after day. Some times I don't mind it. I often like the solitude of being here, with the dogs at my feet. But on the whole I hate it. Even though I've been separated and divorced a total of 6 years, I still miss the idea of companionship. I miss the thought of having someone to hang out with and talk to. Not that I don't have great friends and family. I do. But it's not the same. 

After many hours I finally was able to go back to sleep but woke up with a raging headache. Couple that with an overwhelming feeling of alone-ness, I was useless to myself. I cried, missing what should have been. Missing what might never be again. Sad of the lost future of my life companion and my til death do us part. It's not HIM that I miss as much as the WE. It's the US I long for. Especially now that the kids are grown and gone. This was supposed to be the time for US, time to travel and gather up the moments lost to sea duty and military service. The time spent raising kids and taking care of a house and responsibilities. It's gone and I feel empty, sometimes. Especially after a fretful nightmare. 

I want companionship. I want someone to go the movies with, eat dinner with, spend time with, argue politics with, lament to state of Black America with. I was someone. But that doesn't seem to be on the horizon. And hasn't for a long time now. And I find myself having to come to grips with what that means. And I just don't know how. 

At bible study the other night, my mom said that we needed to let the Lord be our companion. So much easier said than done. Easier spoken than accepted. I love the Lord and yet I haven't found a way to make that relationship translate to my loneliness. I don't know how to transition that into a movie date, or walk around the park date. And that makes me sadder still. 

I don't think we were meant to be alone. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it since God says so right at the beginning "And the Lord God said, “It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him." Genesis 2:18. I know that also means that I need to wait for God to send me my helper. But I'm not gonna lie, I'm getting impatient. At times, I question my own value, my own beauty and my own attraction. I know. I know. All of those things are not found in the eyes of another person, but God. But you also know i keep it real on this blog. Really real. And that's sometimes how I feel. 

So I wait. "Wait on the Lord; Be of good courage, And He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord!" Psalm 27:14

But in the meantime, I could do with a date. 

In love, 

Mona

Eeny Meeny Miny Moe

When I was a kid, the best and only way to make a choice was to use Eeny Meeny Miny Moe. It's how we chose teams for kickball, how we chose who was first up in Mother May I and which popsicle to buy. It made all the sense in the world. 

Eeny Meeny Miny Moe
Catch a tiger by his toe
If he hollers let him go
Eeny Meeny Miny Moe

Once we were down to the last two choices, we added another chant.

My mother told me to pick this one right over here! 

Seem like I'm still doing "eeny meeny" for all of the important decisions in my life. In short: I MAKE BAD CHOICES. A lot.

I make bad choices in my love life, my finances, in my time management and in my spiritual walk. I keep eeny meeny'ing and choosing the wrong thing every single time. 

I choose a vacation over new brakes. 

I choose to hold on to past hurt rather than walk in healing. 

I choose relationships that aren't good for me instead of living joyfully alone. 

I choose vindictiveness over compassion.

I choose to binge watch a show on my phone rather than reading my bible. 

Why?

Because I'm not doing Proverbs 3:5-6. That's why. 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
And lean not on your own understanding;
In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He shall direct your paths.

I'm so far into leaning on my own understanding that I'm planking.



And in order for me to get my choices right, I have to put away my childish eeny meeny miny moe mindset and really lean on God. Trust in Him, knowing that He will guide and direct me into the destiny He desires for me. 

Didn't He say

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you; Before you were born I sanctified you..."

"For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope."

It's time for me to believe Him. Time for me learn to WAIT on the Lord. And let Him direct me. I'll end up better off in the end. 

Now I feel like playing a good game of Mother May I. 

NOT IT!

In love,
M