Remembering Mickie, Entry Num. 1: She

She bid us farewell some Sunday’s ago and life has been surreal ever since
Sunday’s have a stigma now that sting me upon every awake
She lives in memories and dreams
and it seems unfair that even there
she is too distant,
far too removed from my touch or my teeth—
I can’t feel her or taste her with any words…so I bite
She is becoming a collection of vagaries
my mind can’t seem to park on one main thing concerning her—
her shaved head, freckled face or turquoise finger nails
She is all smiles in my intentional reveries
but there are moments when my mind’s eye recalls
her decadence and misery
It was hurtful to watch her slip slow into a solemn slumber
But peace was upon her when I last saw her body
at rest
empty of her personality,
void of her struggle,
expired from her pain,
a mere husk of stolen vitality
It was cancer that snatched her from me,
from sunrises at arm’s reach, from downtowns and beaches,
from sisters’ night out and patient privileges
from human love and familiy
It was cancer that took her victory
Leaving us with only her name on our lips
convincing ourselves if we pretend long enough
the missing of her will disintegrate into our fabrics
but never seep through our skin
when the wretched truth is
we are concaved
searching for meaning in our own living
meaning to live in our mourning
looking for joy to remove our weeping
when remembering stops hurting
and Sunday morning’s are just another day to pray

erm…It is Well
#RememberingMickie

On the Other Side of Through

Having lived through the casualities of impatience and stubborness; the collision of pride and humility...It is good to be in this place. Having lived through the seeming permanence of loss and displacement, it is refreshing to be in this place.

This place of knowledge; this place of wisdom. This place of restoration of faith. This place of obedience and it's reward. A place of happiness and adoration for my journey. This is a place where lessons learned are remembered, consulted and applied. This place where admiration for my life is an honor, a gift to be had.

That moment when my 12 year-old daughter can say to me, I am proud of you: Priceless! To know that she pays attention and most likely has been for a long time before she could articulate her thoughts today...

Today, living in the wonderment of submission, this place of agreeing with life and the unforced, natural flow of it. This place of trusting God and seeking Him first. This is a magnificent space to be in. This is the other side of through.  

Through...(through trial and error, through suffering and struggling, through doubting and not knowning, through living)...

Today my mouth is filled with praise and laughter because now I reap in joy all that I sowed in tears. Life is so well and so worth living here on the other side of through. But you have to make it through to get to here! In case you need reminding, you can make it. 

The life I live today, I did not imagine it. It is better than the thoughts I held for myself. Far exceeds the aspirations I envisioned--and to think this is merely the beginning. 

What I know for sure, gratitude is attractive. It was good for me to have suffered for a while, for He has establisehd me and perfected my way. Grace is real. Miracles are for us. Life is beautiful. 

erm...It is Well

My Issue with Blood

We will ask God
She said
We will seek His face on your behalf
That He would extend his generous grace upon the flesh of you
That He would make all the skin and bones that would propel you
Yet maintaining your humble spirit
Healed and whole

We will ask God
She said
We will appeal to His heart
to make a blessing of your infirmity
to touch you there ever so softly
to heal the feeling of your anxiety
to tuck comfort in your ability to choose trust
Swallow your mustard seed Beloved,
You are always well

We will ask God
She said
To remind me...
As if all that we bring and all that we bear
Did not come from His yes and His Amen
But it is a blessing too when He does not agree
Because we know He who ordains our expected end
will carry us through it
And it is perfect
Clearer than our eye can see
Louder than our ear can here
More magnificent than our heart can contain

We will ask God
She said
He already heard 

This poem was inspired by a darling, faith-full believer, who upon my (unconfirmed) news of having fibroids, responded with: We will ask God. And for whatever reason, her resolute answer inspired me to poetry. 

WARNING! Some real adult/womanhood content follows.
Anyone who reads me knows, I like to find things interesting. And I find it rather interesting that (as women) our issues flow from and through our bodies by blood shed. That our dark wombs can and will create substance of our issues and purge them out from us as blood. Interesting, that from our private spaces, unknown and unseen; from our vaginas, our infirmaties or impurities flow free.

Having experienced the heaviest and most uncomfortable menstruation of my entire life, I have never been more clear on the value, purpose, impact, and meaning of my vagina! Yup, that's what I said. To think that my issues--flow from my body--through my coochie! This one thought really encourgaes me to further scrutinize who and their issues I will allow to enter into my sacred, self correcting body. 

WORTH MENTIONING! This past month has given me an entirely new perspective on an unnamed woman in the Bible, referenced always as "the woman with the issue of blood".  While I did not suffer the stigma of being "ceremonially unclean", I certainly felt a hint of what the weight of her socail isolation could have felt like. And while I have not suffered this condition for years, my two to three weeks was more than I wanted to bear. 

It is not a good feeling to have zero control over what and how your body changes/reacts through natural causes. And it could be a stuggle adapting to a new normal. But I will not let it be. I took my time to decide that surgery is the best option for me. I will take my time to recover. And I will continue to appreciate that as I go through ups and downs, along the way, I can still be inspired to write. 

erm... It is Well

Grace for Your Grace

His unmerited favor.
Unearned, baseless approval; divine assistance. 
Enabling power sufficient for progression...

Your elegance and your beauty of form. 
Your charm and attractiveness. Your manner, your ease...

Consider this Beautiful--yes you! What have you put your grace through? Your beauty, your body, your charm,  your youth, your kindness, your forgiveness, your mercy, your patience, your understanding, your quality, your favor? What has your grace been loyal to? 

Where did His Grace carry you from? Where did His protection deliver you?  Where did His mercy pardon you? Where did His charity cover you? Where did His favor bless you? Where did His grace love you?

Darling, you have been the possessor of Grace all along. 

erm...It is Well

Rewriting the Narratives

Let us begin the work of getting to the heart of the matter.
I hereby declare this your blog! The dream I wish to see as a reality for such a time as this, is a space where woman peel off the layers to discover themselves. When I say rewriting the narratives, it means throwing out the scripts we memorized from the mouth of tradition and removing the limitations we've worn under the guise of religion.

Rewriting the Narratives means, taking off our mother's dress, our grandmother's head wrap, our sister's shoes...It means taking from our abiding thoughts the teachings we were given as doctrine and removing from our internal dialogue all the myths we have talked into our being. It means breaking through all the gospels we were given as the formula for living. You are the writer of your life. Everyday you arise from your bed and your feet touch the floor, you have the power to co-create with your Father God. 

But before you create haphazardly for one more moment; before you create one more stronghold from a place of weakness or one more ounce of your life with ill intention--you should search your heart. You should take a seat in your soul and observe the comings and goings. You should get to the bottom of your heart, through all your matter. 

Getting to the Heart of the Matter is what I believe to be the path to wholeness and living well. The residue of brokenness, loneliness, rejection, betrayal, abandonment...need I continue. (I know you have a list of your own). When we do not use our response-ability and sift through our matter, renew our hearts, the residue of these things sit on our hearts, festering, occupying viable space, leaving no room for healing. We know everything unsettled in our heart brims to the surface of our life, on the job, in the home, through relationships. No area is exempt. But so what?

The Call to Action--you knew it was coming. I challenge you to join me on the mission. Accept it. Take off the mask. Peel off dead skin. Liberate your story. It has held you hostage long enough. Share boldly and unabashedly. (Or if you wish, share anonymously).

You are wise. As wise women, it is our burden and blessing to impart our hard earned wisdom gained from heartache and sufferance to younger generations. To our daughters and nieces and friends coming along the way, we owe them, the knowing of what it takes for a woman to become whole, stay whole and thrive. So go ahead, share a paragraph or share a page (or share this link). The point is let it go. The story has no power over you. But it can be powerful to the inspiring of another. 

erm...It is Well

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Permission to Launch

If you are reading this, it is because I have finally given myself permission to succeed. 
I have been birthing and nursing this site for almost three weeks. Every week I claim intently, I'm ready to launch! But right beside the claim, creeps in doubt and I get distracted with thoughts of what are YOU going to think when you see this place.  What will you say when I let you into my secret space? So I rearranged it a few too many times trying to anticipate your reaction to my flowers, my words, my design, my endeavors...Tonight I let go. 

To be completely transparent, I attempted to build this site almost one year ago. At that time, I found the process to be too complicated for my simple mind and I abandoned it. I told myself I would find someone to create and design a site for me. I shopped around for a while but never committed to any prospects and held on to my excuses.

But a very interesting phenomenon unfolded for me while procrastinating (yea I do that too). I discovered, desperation can lead to tremendous creativity.  And after attending one, two, five book events, I realized I no longer had the luxury of not having a cyber space. So every day, from midnight to the wee hours of the morning, I worked at setting up shop. Why my creativity chooses to flow free at night--I can't explain. But this here--is the product of diligence and sleepless nights. And if I do say so myself, it is worth it!

Let me add, if there is something you are working on, a vision or project you are birthing, an idea you are stagnating in procrastination, get desperate about it--and watch how your inner know-how leaps into action. Tap into your creativity. Tap into your determination. Sit patiently in the stir of your inspiration...and taste and see what boils over. It will be worth it!

But as for here and now, thank you for reading me. Please peruse the place. Take your time. After all, I did create the place with you in mind. Before you leave, share your thoughts. I'd like to know how the experience is for you. 

erm...It is Well

Wisdom told me...

Daily...

Sometimes I let my creativity search for hidden messages of wisdom I can compile...to consume in bite sized nuggets for those days when, I get carried away with the noises, and the busyness of the world. 
#BonAppetite

erm...It is Well

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