Burning Throat

“Could be reflux, true. But it could also be allergies.” This peaked my curiosity as I listened to the sales person at Vitamin Shoppe tell me of his experiences. You see, I ran out of the house on a mission to find Licorice Extract (DGL) as an herbal alternative to treat what I assumed was a burning throat caused by acid reflux.


Earlier, I was overwhelmed by the intensity of my burning throat and sinus congestion. This had been going on for days, off and on for months now, and I was sick and tired of it. I cried, I paced, I prayed. I cried some more. I paced some more. I prayed with an intensity that only those who are fed up with their situation do. “God, pleeeeeease help me. I’m not getting no better. Please don’t let this be cancer. Please don’t let me not be able to sing again.” The pleading and crying went on and on until my Wise Self took over.

I could spend my time pleading or I could consider that the God I was pleading with had been there through some tough times. Some I-can’t-take-no-more days. In retrospect, there wasn’t a time when I prayed that He didn’t hear me. Sometimes that’s the only assurance you get in the moment – that God hears you. You don’t know what His answer will be, but you know that He sees, He knows, He cares.  In life, in death, He shows up. In sickness, in health, He shows up. In sorry, in joy, He shows up. He’s healed me from the inside so much and so until my environment has been transformed. I am walking at a level of consciousness and liberty that is a miracle even to me.  So why wouldn’t He hear me?  Heal me? Help me? He'd done it before so of course He will.  With all He had done, it wouldn't make sense for Him to allow me to be unhealthy when I am prospering emotionally, have a fulfilling romantic relationship, have a job with the flexibility and autonomy that I need, and live in a larger place that makes room for me.  So I stopped wailing.  I could sit here feeling sorry for myself , wait for my doctor's visit or be proactive about my own health.

Licorice extract. Hummmm, I thought. This might be an answer. You see, I had purchased a magazine some days ago called Natural Health. I hadn’t opened it though. I don’t know if something on the cover caught my attention or what, but I felt inclined.  While flipping through the pages, I came upon an article. It was a compilation of tips from well-known practitioners in the alternative medicine world. Dr. Andrew Weil’s interview peaked my interest. He talked about how there were herbal remedies for many of the maladies that we deal with. He named Licorice extract for reflux. Eureka!!!!!

After leaving the Vitamin Shoppe, I went to the grocery store. I had picked up some nutritional tips from the Dr. Weil's website. Fortunately, what I purchased wasn’t much different from what I’d normally eat. I just knew I had to be more conscious and purposeful in my eating. I had been eating out alot. He advised keeping a food log. Yes, food log to see if there were certain foods that were more bothersome than others.

Yesterday’s food log entry (I am so tempted to say Captain's Log, Star Date July 20, 2011):

Breakfast

A berry smoothie using flavored water, frozen strawberries, fresh blueberries and ice cubes I had made from V8 splash fruit drink. It was pretty good.

Later, I had a bowl of cereal. It was one of those ones in the organic section of the supermarket with all those whole grains they listed on the website as rich in fiber. Instead of dairy, I purchased some Almond Breeze Almond Milk. Who would have thought that Millet and Ama-something would taste this good.

Lunch

Grape chicken salad from Lowe’s Foods. That stuff is the bomb! I had it stuffed in a pita. Drank a green vegetable juice drink from some Go Greens type of powder I got from Vitamin Shoppe. Of course, I used flavored water just in case it tasted horrible. It was okay though. I could drink this regularly, I thought.

Around 3pm, I took a Claritin. I waited for 20-30 minutes for it to kick in. I honestly couldn’t tell much of an immediate difference.  I had less sinus congestion though.

I also gargled with some warm salt water. That actually helped I think more than anything else.

Dinner

Broiled salmon, cabbage, Uncle Ben’s wild and brown rice. Instead of blackening my salmon or using the parsley garlic salt like usual, I decided to just go with a li’l salt and pepper with extra virgin olive oil swizzled on it. When the fish was done, it was a bit bland to me so I livened it up with a couple of shakes of cinnamon and added a little honey. Put it back in the oven for a minute. It was actually quite tasty.

Because I ate around 6:00ish and had pretty much sat on my rump for most of the day working on my computer, I decided to get up and get moving. As I watched So You Think You Can Dance on TV, I jogged in place for about 20-30 minutes. Too hot to go outdoors.  Then I did some resistance stretching, using the stretch band I got from a physical therapist last year when I had hand pain.

Most telling was my sleep last night. Not only did I not awaken to a burning throat but my night sweats were less. I slept really well.  As I type today, I still feel the sensation in my throat so I will still go to a GI doctor and scheduled an Upper GI Endoscopy. I am also going to schedule something with an alternative medicine person recommended by one of my friends. I want to rule out food allergies, hormonal influences from being perimenopausal as well as digestive issues. Something's going on and I want to know what it is.  I also decided to stop taking the Nexium. I can’t see it really helping. I had already taken 13 days of Zegerid prior.  Better results from the Licorice Extract, I think.

Regardless, I know that God will lead me. I want to know what’s going on with my body and address that, not just mask symptoms. Here's to the journey.  Later!

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So Gone

I’m sitting in bed listening to Jill Scott’s latest CD.  “Why does my body ignore what my mind says? I try to keep it intact but I’m here in this bed.  Again.”  Oh, how many of us can identify with those lyrics!

You know me.  The wheels in my brain started whirring.  What does it take for your body to respect what your mind says?  Is it possible or are we just doomed to keep failing.  Are we suckers?  Are we the weaker sex without the ability to resist that “thickness, the kind that make you get up makin biscuits with Breakfast.”  Um-um-um.

I can’t answer that question for you and I ain’t about to start diagnosing.  Everyone has a different emotional G-Spot that renders you brain-dead.  His thickness could be physical.  Or we might find his business savvy really thick.  He might make us laugh.  He might pay attention.  Yep, that was my thick thing.  He might be deeply spiritual, impressed with our devotion to God.  Or ole school, the chivalrous man.  Southern gentleman, the polite type of man.  Many of us get impressed with that.  On the other hand, it could be that it sneaked up on us.  He was just alright until he somehow stumbled on that place.  Something got tripped inside and now we just can’t help ourselves.  He’s on our mind all the time.  We minimize it with our girlfriends but secretly we check our cell phones on the sly.  Adjust the volume.  Check to make sure the ringer’s on.  Everything in us hypersensitive to his every move!

It’s almost romantic.  Don’t know why, but there is a romantic quality in the mystery of it.  The drama of it.  The off-balanced, I can’t get myself together of it.  I don’t know why though.  It’s torture!  I believe that’s what we’ve be conditioned to expect.  We rationalize that this must be love.  He might be the one.  After all, it ain't a good love story without it.  That's what our favorite artist, our Jill Scott, sings about.  The “I can’t help it’s” of love.

I love Jill, no doubt.  Her lyrics are so unapologetic and madd real that they stir the passion deep down.  They are our love story poetically delivered, set to beats that make us sway as our eyes roll back in our heads.  They speak to the depth and feelin of our hunger for love.  The ups and downs of love.  But, and I say but, I don’t feel so good when I hear these lyrics.

These lyrics take me back to a place of defeat, humiliation, guilt and shame.  I failed again.  I told myself I wouldn’t but I did.  I went on a man cleanse but.  I promised I wouldn’t have sex for at least a year but.  I promised God that if he got me out of the last hurt, I’d never ever again but.  I put my hand on my hip, moving my neck and whippin my finger back and forth when I said “hell to the no” but.  Until….

Until I made a conscious decision that my mind was wiser.  Until I realized that I wasn’t the exception.  Until I accepted I wasn’t the woman who’d make a player put up his toys.  I wasn’t the one to change a cheatin man into a family man.  I wasn’t woman enough to change him.  I wasn’t pretty enough.  I wasn’t smart enough.  No matter how cute I looked.  No matter how fly my hair.  No matter how well I learned the game and how well I played it.  No matter how many “how to get him to fall in love with you” books I read.  I was going to be left feelin less because for the umpteenth time, I fell.  I failed.  I got played.  Not just by him, but worst, I played myself. 

Dr. Phil says, “you can’t change what you won’t acknowledge.”  That was the first step for me.  My first step of recovering, if you will.  The second was to establish accountability.  I knew that I wasn’t strong enough, smart enough or stable enough to put my mind before my body.  I needed help.  I needed someone whom I respected to keep me awake.  Awake to those thoughts that kept landing me in compromise.  Awake to my lifestyle that was setting me up for failure.  Awake to that thing, that lack, that need inside that was my lullaby.  I needed someone to help me to stay awake to what I deeply and truly wanted – LOVE.

I am really deeply moved when I watch Extreme Makeover:  Weight Loss Edition on television.  You see beautiful souls imprisoned by something eating away at their insides.  Creating a hunger that they’ve used food to relieve.   Such great stories of overcoming and becoming!  I often wonder how those people are doing one year, two years later.  Sadly, many of them return even larger than they were before.  Makes you scratch your head and wonder what happened. 

Much like these brave individuals, we set a goal to lose weight.  It may not be 200 or 300 pounds. Just enough weight to get into a certain size or a certain dress.  To feel better.  To look better.  To become more healthy.  Sooooo we exercise.  We watch what we eat.  We watch how much we eat.  We spend money and hours at the gym.  We might even hire a personal trainer.   We jump up and down after our goal has been met.  Then within weeks, months, years, we’re right back to the same ole thing.  Here lies what many fitness and weight loss experts are now aware of.  In order to be successful, we have to adopt a new lifestyle.

My transformation started with a change of mind and then accountability, but ultimately, it had to become a part of me.  I had to get it.  My head was wiser than my body.   Its voice had to become louder and I had to believe it.  For me, an unavailable man would send my body into an absolute tizzy.  I found him sexy as all get out!  It wasn’t any one thing about him.  He could be as fine as Boris Kudjoe or as homely as Chris Rock.  Nonetheless, like a moth to a flame, I was drawn in.  My head had to recognize that. 

I had to tell myself the truth.  Not the general truth.  Not the surface truth.  But the real truth.  The real truth that 90% of the men I felt that thick attraction to were not available.  Not only did I have to get that in my head but I had to get that into my body too.  I couldn’t get betrayed once again by hope.  That hope that he might be different.  That hope that makes you ignore those blaring signs and magnify his potential.  That kind of hope is a lie.  It’s a betrayal.  It’s not a little white lie.  It’s a deceiver with the intent to sabotage me:  short circuit my sobriety and draw me back into my alcoholic-similar, addictive, compulsive tendencies.

“This ain’t no movie mane (man), I’m a real woman.  Been down this road before.  I just need more.”  I now have more.  You can have more.

I Want To Be A Part of That

Finding what makes you happy, is a whole lot better than finding what makes you rich.  I heard Mekhi Phifer’s character on the movie, HONEY, say those words.   Then to Honey, he says, “I want to be a part of that.”  “Part of what?,” she asks.  Leaning in, he answers.  “What makes you happy.”  What is it about a woman that a man would want (or possibly even need) to make her happy?  What is it?   

While I was visiting with my mother yesterday, my uncle told her she was doing exactly what God wanted her to be doing.  He followed up with more encouragement by telling her that suffering means we are doing something right.   If you ain’t suffering then you aren’t livin a Godly life. 

I have learned that you can’t change what someone believes.  I don’t even get angry anymore.  People can’t help how they feel and what they truly believe.  If a woman believes that suffering in a relationship is proof of her love and devotion, you can tell her different but she ain't gonna listen to you.  My sister friend asked me a very sobering question.  Why do we press on with a guy even when we know in our hearts that he isn’t good for us or giving us what we need?  Is it because he’s hittin it (good in bed) solid or is it that we are hopeful or what?   

I think there is something that we find attractive in a person.  He makes us laugh.  She hooks up a killer meal.  He makes us feel listened to.  She didn't fall for our line.  He took the lead.  She held a brother down during a lean time.  Or yes, maybe it was that sexy slap-yo-momma swagger in his approach.  The way he kissed us, touched us, begged us and eventually sexed us.  There was something about him that set the bar up there.   Be real or imagined, this created hope.  The hope that he will do it again.  The hope we'll feel it again.   Sooooooo, we give him opportunity after opportunity to rise to our ideal.  Sadly, for some of us, that need for what I call ideal fulfillment can bind us too. 

As I reflect on that killer line that Mekhi handed Jessica Alba’s character, Honey, it sparks some self examination.  Do I want a man who will make me happy?  Is that happiness tied to him meeting an ideal?  When I was younger, I wanted the fairy tale ending.  Yes I did.  I've learned something though.  As wonderful as a man is, he is never enough. 

You might be the most devoted, faithful, loyal, interesting, adventurous, sexy man God ever created and you still aren't enough.  The monsters under my bed and ghosts that haunted me in the dark could not be exorcised by a mere mortal.  When the dragons of life reared their ugly heads, taunting me and threatening to destroy everything that I really cared about, a man wasn’t able or available to rescue me.  The discontent.  The disappointment.  The fear.  The anxiety.  The issues.  A tortured soul and distrusting heart ridden with triggers, a lone man could not free.  It took a God.  Only God could satisfy the longing in my soul.  Only God could illuminate me, heal me and liberate me.  What He's done for me is enough.  So, no, I am not looking for a man to make me happy.  Just a man.  A man who recognizes himself in me. 

 

I'm A Survivor

“Good luck,” said this beautiful older woman sitting opposite me in the waiting room.  “Thank you,” I said and walked back to the room where I had consented to have a mammogram done.  Promised that this one wouldn’t be as traumatizing as the one I had two years ago, I disrobed and allowed the technician to guide me in the procedure.  When I came out, this lady whose name I did not get asked me how things went.  “I’m not certain,” I answered.  “I’m waiting to hear.”  “What about you?,” I asked.  She told me she had been diagnosed with cancer a year ago.  Hair loss and everything, she confided as she rubbed her hands through her now lovely locks.  “You’re a survivor,” I said and tears filled my eyes as the truth of that shined in her eyes and locked with my spirit.  I heard the grace in her voice as she recounted her journey.  She had walked in the Susan G. Komen breast cancer walk.  “I can’t explain it,” she said.  “When I came across that finish line, I just lifted my arms and jumped up and down.” 

Bout that time, the technician motioned for her to come on back.  “Time to squeeze,” she said as she walked off.  “We aim to please,” the technician said fondly. 

I can’t explain it but I felt a deep connection with this lady.  Especially when I said “you’re a survivor,” it struck a chord within me.  Maybe it’s because I’m a survivor too.  Not due to cancer, but no less a survivor. 

There’s got to be something recognizable when you have defied the odds.  You feel empowered, yes.  Like this lady, you cross the finish line with your arms lifted and you jump and rejoice in being alive.  Yet when you stop and consider that others didn't make it, there is a profound gratitude and you sit in awe.   Like the song says, “my soul look back and wonder, how I got over.”

Last night, my son and I had a conversation.  He was experiencing something that he had never experienced quite like that before and he sought my comfort and counsel.  I remember sharing my words of wisdom – you know how we mothers do – yet I encouraged him to relax.  “You can’t make a wrong decision,” I told him.  For at 51 years of age, it is becoming more and more clear the scripture that says, “all things work together for good for them that love the Lord and are the called according to His purpose.”  We are here according to His purpose.  So a life given over to Him can make no mistakes.  Everything is approved.  E-ve-ry-thing!  Every test.  Every trial.  Every misstep.  Every mishap.  Every good relationship.  Every bad one.  How our parents treated us.  How they neglected us.  Church hurt.  Whatever your every is.  EVERYTHING has purpose else I don’t believe God would permit it.  He gets no glory out of toying with us.  He’s doesn’t have Ego so setting us up then bashing us when we don’t do what his says is not his thing.  Else why give us a free will?  Else why send Jesus to redeem us if He were to treat us as if we weren’t?    

There comes a point in your life when you say, “I have no regrets.”  That is, if you really understand that your life is not your own.  Your husband cheated?  Well, God allowed it.  Your child is defiant?  God approved for you to go through that.  I’m not saying He condoned it or even wanted it as man would.  All I am saying is He uses those things to grow us, to mature us, to help us to realize the strength that we have and to empower others.  He knows He is God.  He knows He is All Powerful and could simply will it and what you are dealing with would be over.  He also knows that no matter how dirty you get or how bloody it gets around you, He can clean it up and remove the hold it had as if it never happened.  He is God enough to help you, heal you and resurrect you if you die in the fight.  He is not in a dilemma about it.  So He doesn't have to rush.  He knows there is a time and a season for what we’re going through and when that time and season are up, it's over. 

I remember feeling so much anxiety when people would tell me, “You need to stop that. You need to get over him.  You need to do better.”  But I couldn’t help how I felt.  If I could have helped myself from being played by some jacked-up man, I would have.  I couldn’t help myself.  God knew it.  And God knew that He could have changed my mind, moved the man to Siberia or intervened at any given moment.  He didn’t…..until it was time.  It’s not because of who we are or our ability to live perfectly, it’s because of who He is and He…Is… Wise.  Doesn’t seem like it sometimes, but He makes no mistakes. 

 When you are forgiven, you don’t have to apologize anymore.  Your debt is paid.  You are free.  You don't have to walk aorund on eggshells.  Like a person being tried and found “not guilty,” he cannot be tried for that same crime again.  Now, true, there are consequences but that’s just the way things are.  If you plant an apple seed, you have to deal with that apple tree.  If you have hurt people, just because you are forgiven by God doesn’t mean those that you hurt will just flock to you with open arms.  There is some healing that has to take place.  Some restoring.  Some consistency on your part that shows you have changed. 

Well, I gotta go to work, but here lies the peace.  As Oprah says, “when you realize that there is nothing that could have been done to change what happened to you, you can forgive.”   I say that when you consider all that has happened to you and you are still here, why allow the past to continue to hold you hostage.  You have outlasted whatever happened in your life.  Stop crying!  You are a survivor.  Rejoice in that fact!  Throw your arms up and jump up and down as you cross that finish line.  Then sit down and with tears of joy, let the grace of that fact fill you with gratitude and love.

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Make Room

Before going to bed, I had seen Oprah's 25^th Season: Behind the Scenes. Do you remember the media hailstorm after it was revealed that a guest author had misrepresented his experiences in his book? I remember bits and pieces of it. What I do remember most was Oprah's upset. Some people even felt she was very harsh in how she handled him. For when she invited him back on the show, she was forceful and showed no compassion. What Sheri Salata shared with Oprah was that he came to the show expecting something different. He didn't expect to be confronted in that manner. I felt tears well up in my eyes.

How awful it must have been for him.  To come into a place where you feel you will be treated with respect only to be publicly flogged. Searching her intentions for that encounter and her feelings at the time, Oprah admitted she was not interested in his truth. She wasn't interested in him at all. He had taken advantage of her and had threatened her integrity with her viewers. She couldn't have cared less about his reasons. It wasn't until her Wise Self, the God of all Grace, confronted her that she realized she had mishandled that moment. I can't remember her exact words but in essence, "When you feel the need to defend who you are, you are moving in Ego not Truth." That spoke to me.

Though I believe my past relationships with men needed to end, I have to admit the role my Ego played. It caused me to oscillate between blaming him or blaming myself. It purported distortion as truth. The relationship became less important as my emotional baggage took center stage. I defended my turf vehemently.  If I conceded, it was out of guilt or a need for his validation. Change for me only happened when my inner wisdom objected. My motives were called into question by a consciousness greater than my own. When this happened, the motivation ceased to be about pleasing someone else or stroking my Ego but achieving true freedom.

This is the reason my spirit prayed all night. It was calling for a greater surrender. "Lord, I don't want to attack anymore," my Spirit said. "When I feel threatened, dismissed, offended, I don't want to attack. I don't want to move in arrogance. I don't want to move in Ego. Doesn't matter what I experienced in the past. I want to be free. I want to move in faith and in trust. No more a victim.  I want to be guided by who I am and a desire for meaning and understanding." I realize that surrender might mean that I get hurt again. I realize that surrender might mean that my relationship won't last for a lifetime. Never mind that.  I don't want to waste the reason or the season. And most importantly, I don't want to spend another day of my life looking for that one man who can settle the debt for the failings, disappointments or hurts of previous ones. To expect that of someone is to admit that I haven't forgiven someone else.

Here is what life has taught me. When you feel secure, you have no need to give ultimatums, to attack the other person, or to defend your honor. You can simply speak the truth. You can ask for what you want. And you respect the other person's right to decline.  It doesn't always mean that you need to throw away the other person. Sometimes it means that you need to negotiate.  Sometimes it means you have to lose selfishness.  Other times, it may mean that you have to part ways. Regardless, it is important to own what is motivating your decision – Intimacy or Ego. Control or Cooperation.

My relationship coach shared some great advice. It was in the context of extroverts dating introverts but I feel it offers great wisdom across the board. What she shared was successful couples have made a conscious decision to guard their admiration and respect for each other. This was powerful.  She gave a great example by referencing how we regard our children. No matter the differences or disagreements, my regard for my son has been unwavering. "This is what you have to bring to your relationship," she said.

Secondly, she cautioned that I might have to dial my extroverting side back a little. Though my partner may find it energizing now, he may find it overwhelming later. When she said it I chuckled as I envisioned myself as a steamroller and my poor sweetie being rolled over and dragged all over the place. Poor thing! I love the uninhibited nature of my life. I love to laugh out loud. I am exhilarated by thought-provoking conversation and the power of support offered by my social circle. That feeds me. Nevertheless, I have to be mindful that he is different. She wasn't suggesting that I stop being me but that I merely make room for him to be him. Honor what feeds him. I understood. Create opportunities for him to share. Let him know that I see him, I hear him and that he matters. Negotiate things like where we will go and how long we'll stay. Have people over but maybe not so many at once…lol. Don't blindside him. I truly believe that if I protect what is important to him, he'll protect what is important to me. 

CAVEAT IMPTOR

With dizzying excitement, she talked about her date.  He complimented her on her dress.  He opened the car door.  He brought her flowers.  He showed up on time.  He paid for the meal.  He was funny, communicative, attentive and seemed genuinely interested in what she said.  “He said that he knew I was special when he first saw me,” she gushed.   

Such was the intro and the next few dates.  As her girlfriends sat on the edge of their seats, she shared that he owns his own home.  He has a relationship with God.  He loves his mother.  He is a partner at a prestigious law firm.  He helps inner city youth twice a week and, most importantly, he’s looking for that special person.  BINGO! 

This may not be your story, but every woman has one.  That man who seems like the one we’ve been waiting for, dreaming about, praying for and almost gave up on ever meeting until he showed up.  He might not be as tall as we wanted.  He might not have light eyes and long eyelashes.  But what he does for us surpasses alllllll that other stuff.  “I think I’m fallin in love with him,” we tell our closest girlfriends. 

What are we actually falling in love with?  Who is he…..really?  Is this charming, attentive, communicator who he really is or is he just good at courting?  Let me be the first to admit that I’ve been rendered brain-dead by a man.  Gushing with excitement, I’ve reveled in the things he does, what he says, how he feeds into my fantasy of what a man should be.   Sadly, I would have walked down the aisle with Jeffrey Dahmer if he found my sweet spot! 

I believe we should greet every man with warmth and a strong dose of sobriety.  If he buys you flowers, you simply put them in a vase and enjoy them.  When he seeks our company, wait to see what he emphasizes.  According to Steve Harvey and countless other male authors, men are hunters.  A good hunter has studied his prey.  He knows the habits of it, where it loves to hang out, the reason he's hunting and what he plans on doing with the prey once it's caught.  

He warns us not to be impressed with this.  In fact, he talks about a common complaint of women in his Strawberry Letters.  Women lament that their man no longer talks to them.  “We use to spend hours on the phone,” they say.  To this, Steve clarifies, “they only were gathering information."  Men don’t use words like women do.  They don't use words to bond. 

As I ponder this, I believe we fall in love with the hunter’s skill.  We fall in love with how good a man courts us.  We don’t know a doggone thing about him yet we deem him worthy because he pays attention, calls every night, buys us gifts, seeks out our company.  Until...dumbfounded, befuddled and pretty darn confused, we lament to our friends about how he’s changed.   Instead of crying however, we should be glad that the hunter has put down his bow and arrow and is now revealing himself. 

It is arguable whether women should wait 90 days before getting sexually involved with a man.  Women have debated this very thing around kitchen tables, while sitting in salon chairs and over the phone with their BFFs.  While I am for liberation and have no qualms with how or when you decide to get intimate with someone, I would be remiss to not warn “caveat imptor,” let the consumer beware.  Read the fine print.  Do your due diligence to prevent your giving away more than you can afford to lose.  G-o-o-o-o  s-l-o-o-o-o-o-o-w.  Life has taught me this.  In time, his agenda will become clearer.  In the meantime, take exceptional care of yourself. 

The Devil Made Me Do It

Flip Wilson, the first Black comedian to have his own show or at least that was what I thought as a child, coined what became the favorite mantra of my time: the devil made me do it. Why did you lie? The devil made me do it. Why did you cheat? The devil made me do it. Why did you lie and cheat? The devil, dammit…lol. This became the reason of choice for whatever, whenever and wherever. Back in the day, I could understand folks saying it who didn't claim to know God. But I marveled that people of faith were saying that too.

My Facebook friends are a myriad of folks of different cultures, different walks of life and yes, different faiths. Hailing from Pentecostal Holiness roots, there gots to be some born-again, spirit-filled, tongue-talking, holy-dancin friends as well. Holla! Of concern to me however is one reference I see all too often to none other than -- drum roll please – the devil. Why? Why all the "pray for me that the devil not…." Or "don't get too comfortable cause you know the devil will…" Whut? Or my all-time favorite, "chil, the devil's busy." Every time I hear that one, I want to shout, "BUT GOD IS BUSIER!"

I know that we don't mean any harm in our references to the devil. We want to show that we are mindful of him and not ignorant of his devices. I get that. But, if we were to be completely honest and take a step back, could it be that we talk about him too much.  It's as if the devil is the Bogey Man.  How can belief in God as All-powerful and All-knowing and a preoccupation with what the devil is doing coexist? Someone once told me that whenever you interject a but into a sentence, it cancels out everything said up until that point.  So when you say, "God is good, but gurl, you know the devil is always working," you are cancelling out how good God is.  Ouch!!

No one makes references to the devil as much as we Christians do. Why? Why spend so much time on the devil? Why say "I thank God for this job, but if the devil thinks I'm gonna work on Sundays he's a lie?"  Let me give you some free advice.  If God blessed you with a job that requires you to work on Sundays, then sing a Zion song and get to workin.

Now Suzette, tell me what you really think. Okay. I think it's this devil-consciousness and sin-consciousness that is the culprit.  It robs us of the abundant life we were created and later redeemed to have. It feels us with anxiety. We always feel chased, threatened.  All this intimidation. All this glorifying the devil. All this preoccupation with sin.  "Gurl, I got to go to church cause that man is breathin down my neck and I bind that devil in the name of Jesus." Do you really think God is impressed when you say that? My experience has been a resounding NO. My Wise Guide, My Wonderful Counselor knows how to get down to the root of the problem.  He knows when I'm coping out.  He knows when I use the Bible and His principles to avoid telling myself the truth.  Instead of binding a defeated foe, why not get down to the truth, what's lacking, what's broken. The truth is you are dealing with something even stronger than the devil. YOU.

What is that scripture? I can't quote it off the top of my head and I don't want to stop typing to google it. It talks about the lust of the eyes, the lust of the flesh and the pride of life. I believe most human struggles are linked in some way to one or all of these three things. Modern terminology calls it The Ego. Codependence.  Poor self esteem.  The lack thereof will make us strain at a knat.

We don't get close to people because we have trust issues.  We can't build strong loving relationships with other people because we are sooooooo afraid of having sex. My God! As if having sex is the most awful thing in the world? As if it is a disease that needs to be eradicated? One would think that God didn't create it, the bad press it gets. We rush into marriages with folks we don't know. Sometimes it's lust and sometimes it's to avoid lusting (which by the way is lustin just the same). I even read on a preacher friend's post that he feels singles shouldn't date because of sex. Please! As if not dating will keep folks from having sex. New flash:  Folks...Are...Having...Sex. If they aren't having it with other people, they are having it with themselves or by themselves. If you don't know, you better ask somebody.

I'm not trying to insult anyone's beliefs or minimize anybody's struggles. Not at all. I just believe we need to tell ourselves the truth. As Dr. Phil says, "we can't change what we won't acknowledge."  The prevailing truth is this.  Jesus' blood not only washes away but it also redeems. When a sacrifice has been made for something, it is erased. When Jesus died, He said and I repeat, He said, IT IS FINISHED.  So my dear brothers and sisters, we have only one thing left to do.  Live.  The law upon which all the others are built-the law of love- requires it.

We choose. We choose whether we'll continue to live in fear or to live in faith. We choose. We choose life or we choose death. We choose. I choose to live a guilt-free life. I choose to own who I am and the life I live.  God knows me and has chosen to purchase me with an extended warranty. His blood covers all defects and all sins past, present and future. If God permits me to fall into temptation or to be overtaken by something, then I know that there is purpose even in that.  And it is not so he can damn me to hell.  He will get some glory out of loving me through it or helping me out of it. The longer I live and the more of God's forgiveness I allow to be absorbed into my tissues and my issues, the freer and more alive I feel. He is finishing me. And I am discovering that God is sooooo good at being The Finisher until I can rest in simply being Suzette.