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.

Be The Change

"Be the change you want to see in others." Who said that?  I can't recall but I have to tell you that I can see that God has silently been working on me.  The things that I have prayed for in a man have been the very areas of my belief system, values and behaviors that God has been working on and helping me to work through. 

I remember telling God that I wanted a man who was kind and who had a healthy value for women.  Sadly, my past experiences with men have not revealed kindness in them.  They were good at hunting, great at courting, but not really good at loving.  Regardless to what they professed to be - saint or sinner - I have found a strong tendency towards egotisticality (is that a word?) that became more ridiscent with time.  

What life has taught me, however, is I was arrogant to point fingers.  Did I have a healthy value of men?  Curiosity, yes.  A desire to understand, yes.  But healthy value?  In retrospect, I don't think so.  If a man didn't call within 24-48 hours, I was ready to give him his pink slip.  I was afraid of being the pursuer.  But what of a woman's ability to help?  What convinced me to sit on my laurels and be served?  I may not give him tit for tat, but I do have something intrinsic in my femininity that a man needs.  He needs someone his heart can trust in.  He needs to feel regarded. 

One of the greatest compliments I received from my boyfriend was what I give him emotionally inspires him to give of himself and his resources.  My prayer is that the evaluation phase of our relationship will not give rise to criticism that fractures our ability to provide the emotional support we so richly need.

You Matter

"Dad passed [died] on Tuesday," my cousin, Lawrence, said when he called. "I'm going home to make arrangements."

Maybe it was knowing that this was the death of his only parent left. Maybe it was the struggle, the disconnect with his father over the years. Maybe it was the years of neglect where a man's calling took precedence over his wife and family. I dunno. All I know is yesterday evening, I had to go to Roxboro to be with my cousin.

That determination spurred me on as my son and I drove from 4:45pm until 7: 50pm to find the church where the wake would be. That resolve relentlessly beat in my chest when I'd make a wrong turn, go miles out of the way, stop to ask strangers for directions, make another wrong turn, and drive even further out of the way. I got to get there. I gotta to be there for him. Despite my own fatigue from lack of rest coming out of a jam-packed Memorial Day weekend, I drove. All looked lost until we came upon a trailer where an elderly woman was sweeping the small porch in front. "If this doesn't work, we're going home," I told my son.

FINALLY!

My heart felt like it was about to beat out of my chest as we pulled into the crowded parking lot of the church. With the wake ending at 8:00pm, we had little more than 10 minutes to get inside. If I can just hug him. I just have to let him know that I care. We entered the church, packed as if it was a Sunday morning. We scooted into a pew at the back. That very moment, the presider said, "Would the family like to say anything?" I looked around. Nobody. I stood up. With nothing prepared, without really thinking about it, I stood up. I can't remember all that I said, to be honest with you, but I can say this. I hugged my cousin, my dear dear cousin Lawrence, as I passed him on the way to the front of the church. I told him about the challenging trip to get there only to say, "That's how important you are. We HAD to get here just…for…you." I saw him burst into tears. This man, who had to drive from Petersburg, Virginia to Durham to take care of funeral arrangements when he himself was just recovering from congestive heart failure and pneumonia. This man, who had been my go-to when I had questions about the men I was dating. This man, who had driven miles and incurred expense to help me with my nonprofit. My cousin, who I grew up with and innocently practiced kissing on when we were kids (that's what watching soap operas as a child will do to you…lol). My cousin who was now orphaned. This man's eyes filled with tears.

Empathy is defined as the ability to put yourself in someone else's shoes. Though I strive to do that with everyone I talk with, I believe there is a more Divine layer to this called Kindness With Connection. The first person I ever heard use this term was Oprah Winfrey. I can't recall her exact definition but my takeaway is Kindness With Connection is when an act of kindness ceases to be about you and ministers to the heart of the other person. It's the difference between you giving me the gift you want to give me and giving me the gift that honors the essence of me. It tells me I see you, I hear you and you matter. I needed for my cousin to know that HE mattered. I needed him to know that I saw, I heard and that he mattered. Everyone else was there to celebrate his dad. Of course they were and rightly so. He was their leader. He was the man who gave of himself for them. They were the recipients of his best. The very people who, in a child's eyes, took his dad from him and his mom. And while others talked of his dad's impact on their lives, I saw a humility and grace. My cousin could have had an arrogant spirit. He could have decided that he would show them. He was in the driver's seat now. Instead, my cousin smiled and hugged them. He told them to follow his dad's example. To pick up the phone and let the people in their lives know that they love them because they don't know when it will be their last time. To me, my cousin is the truly great man and things happened the way they were suppose to just so he'd know that.

Obedience, The Doorway to Provision

It never ceases to amaze me how Life can invite you into its own Master Class. Take the aftermath of my refrigerator purchase. My son went to Newark to seek housing for his summer internship. My sister visited from Atlanta to attend the ordination of a pastor friend of ours. With these concurrent events were expected and unexpected financial demands. Though I enjoy having visiting friends and family, it can become quite costly. You spend more. Food. Gas. Time. Unknown to them, I had surges of overwhelm from time to time. I questioned silently whether I really should have bought the refrigerator. Should I have gotten a cheaper one? Should I have waited to see how financially impacting this Memorial Day weekend would be? Was it really Wisdom telling me it was time to get the fridge or was it my need to have certain conveniences right now?

I put gas in the car. I bought lunch for everyone. But it was disproportionate to the provision. As if the Universe heard my hidden anxiety, provision showed up. Without my even having to ask, my sister filled my gas tank. When we got hungry, she bought blackened tilapia for us. When my son needed money quickly to put down a deposit on a place he found in New Jersey, she immediately wired him the money. When a taxi service overcharged his credit card, she had had the same happen to her during her travels and gave him good advice on how to handle it. God used her to take the pressure off. Yes, we took care of each other but God's provision shined through her in completely unexpected ways that tripled, quadrupled my li'l offering of hospitality.

This morning, somewhere between 5:00am and my arrival back home from taking my sister to the airport, a Greater Voice invited me to reflect. Earlier this week, my Inner Wisdom said, "It is time." I was obedient. Provision came. Obedience is the doorway to provision. Was the cost of the refrigerator even a factor, I pondered. What if I had decided to use my resources to buy a $2000 refrigerator instead of paying a little over $800? Would it have mattered? Was the provision contingent on that?

As I thought about this and listened for the answer, I remembered Star Wars. You know that part where Yoda is instructing Luke Skywalker about using the force. Luke is in the handstand position with objects floating around him. "Focus," Yoda instructs. "Feel the force." While luke is focusing, he receives an impulse that his friends are in trouble. Anxious to get to them, he lamented that his aircraft was stuck in the marsh. While he cowered in despair, Yoda takes center stage. He closes his eyes. He raises his hands. The huge aircraft begins to budge and before long it levitates with the same ease as the smaller objects.

"Size doesn't matter. Big. Small. The force is the same." Yoda's words spoke to Luke's moment and now to mine. I understood something I had not before. God's provision isn't contingent on anything other than my obedience. My Wise Self prompted me to act and I did. Not only did God provide the resources needed for me to act; but the resources I'd need afterward. God is All-Wise and All-Knowing. He already knew what refrigerator I would pick. He already knew how much it would cost. He already knew the needs that would arise afterward. When God opens a door, you cannot close it. You can stare at it and question the why's and the how's or you can walk through it.

This weekend, I found that to be true. Surprisingly, I also found the converse is true as well. My lawn looked a hot mess. I hadn't noticed until Friday. You have to understand, my lawn was absolutely gorgeous. My grass looked like green-tuft velvet. Beautiful! You can imagine my surprise when, as I backed out of my driveway, I saw that it was now yellowish brown and weeds were sprouting all over. Argggggggghhhhh! I called friends, telling them I needed lawn care immediately. Despite their recommendations and making multiple calls to lawn care providers, my lawn continues to look awful. What happened? Rain. One thunderstorm after another. One scattered shower after another. What this has taught is no matter how much I want something now, God knows when and how to provide. And so I rest.