Author: Melody

Seeing things through a filter of hope, grace and a whole lot of humor. Atlanta born, Orlando thriving. Healthy foodie, classic R&B superfan, forever lover of the hot mess alert.
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Much Has Happened in My World This Year

I can’t believe December 2017 is already here. This year went by faster than I could have realized. Much has happened in my world.

It was my first year in my role as a full-time writer. Tremendous career successes and opportunities took place.

Beautiful moments arrived in my personal life. Experiencing new love and a new relationship and the adventure that comes in opening your life up to someone.

This purple bookbag was my constant companion as I traveled around the country this year.

Seeing a lot of America via work and personal travel. Atlanta. Detroit. Phoenix. Raleigh. Charleston. Richmond. Washington D.C. Crescent City. St. Augustine. Dallas/Ft. Worth. St. Petersburg. Denver. Ft. Collins. Dallas/Ft. Worth. Atlanta. Cleveland. Kent. Digging into writing assignments. Family visits. Weddings. Celebrating a close friend’s birthday. Seeing sister friends. Writing conferences with the Poynter Institute for Media Studies. Conferences for my job.

Dealing with health challenges that I hoped were resolved but now are being revisited, entering a new journey to find sustainable healing.

Looking for more of myself in my spiritual life, seeing where I’ve loved the Lord but have missed special times with Him this year in His Word and in His presence through prayer, almost was on the verge of losing Him as my first love.

Surviving what could have a been a catastrophic natural disaster if Hurricane Irma would have kept her category 5 status as she hurled towards the Florida panhandle. That affected me, the stress of it all stuck to me. My heart and thoughts continue to be with those who experienced her full wrath and that of Hurricane Maria and continue to recover from the damage.

Figuring out my future and places I want to plant my feet by way of community and my spiritual growth. Wrestling with the tension of time sown in places and knowing when it’s time to move to new spaces that resonate more deeply with my heart and who God’s calling me to be.

Learning how deeply important time to myself as a socially extroverted introvert who gets her energy alone really is. Much of this year I’ve been in moments where I’ve had to give more of myself and be present more than I had adequate time to recharge. And it affected me. And I didn’t always show up as my best self because my energy reserves were depleted.

Much has happened in my world this year.

And God continues to be faithful.

He calls me to Himself, seeing my deep need for rest. 11 out of the last 12 months, I’ve either traveled someplace in the country or been engaged in a conference for my job here in Orlando.

God continues to tell me, “Mel, I want to give you rest.“

Have you ever considered what it means to enter the rest of God? To truly, deeply, fully let the One who made you give you what you need, when you need it, exactly the way you need it, to restore your soul and bring peace to your body?

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. – Matthew 11:28-30, The Message

Rest is what God and I are focusing on now and will continue to focus on as the new year approaches.

I’m tired. So tired I haven’t written solely for myself since September. I haven’t written in this space here on my blog that I love and enjoy showing up in. I’ve been in places this year where I’ve been exhausted mentally, emotionally, physically and spiritually. And that exhaustion happened while I was doing good things, good work, digging in and being fruitful and seeking to thrive.

But I’m learning that like money and time, I, as a human being, am not an unlimited resource.

I’m learning I must choose how I engage in the world and how I show up in the places I’m called to. And what it will mean when I say “yes” and what will be required of me, by way of energy, intention, and presence. Whether that’s coffee with a friend, scheduling a medical appointment, getting ready for my next writing project or choosing to take a moment for self-care. And to use wisdom, time and perspective to help me as I make those decisions.

And the Lord continues to tell me, “Mel, I want to give you rest.” I’m letting Him do that. And choosing to enter into His rest.

I don’t know what your year has felt like or what the upcoming year of 2018 will bring you. But I want to encourage you to rest. To find your center not in the doing and in the busy, but in being and moving externally into the world around you from a foundation of rest. In the moments where life is calm and in the moments where it is chaotic, that foundation of rest in God will ground you.

Maybe it’s too hard for us as humans to admit we have limitations. But we do. They exist, they always have and we can’t shake them off.

I want to live with my limitations in mind so that I can live this life with an intention that is authentic, wise and deliberate.

And my best living comes from resting.

So, that’s what I’m gon’ do.

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Finding Me Truth #11: Fingerprints in The Tension

There’s this tension of living in a world that’s not peaceful, that’s not safe, that’s not what you want it to be in all the moments you breathe – comfortable, expected, controllable.

But if we diminish the presence and fingerprints of God in the story, through the tension, we negate the peace and the safety He can provide if we surrender and let Him.

This world is a crazy place to be in sometimes. Turning on the news or hearing a recap of the MTV VMAs reminds me just how crazy.

All the more reason why God is in the business of fixing things and redeeming broken things, with a particular tenacity for us – human beings.

 

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Words and Musings: Woman Narratives

I’ve been thinking about the lives we live and the ones we want. I’ve been thinking about the lives we have and the ones people tell us we need. I’ve been thinking about womanhood and wifehood and motherhood and careerhood and singlehood and where I am and who do I want to continue to be.

I think sometimes we believe this narrative about being women that goes like this: “When I get married and I have children, I’ll be a real woman. I’ll be complete. I’ll be living my very best life.”

I think that narrative is a deficient and a defective one. And here’s why: Life never comes in a complete, perfectly wrapped box with matching bow.

It never comes that way. EVER.

Things don’t move in a linear direction. Hiccups come. Road blocks surface.

Speed bumps slow you down. New paths open up that you didn’t even expect you’d be walking upon. Incredible opportunities arise that you couldn’t have created for yourself if you tried.

I just think we’ve got to free ourselves up from these narratives that say “this life is the better life, it’s the one you gotta have and until you do, you won’t really, truly, deeply be as happy and fulfilled as you could be.”

Instead, we need the narratives, as women, that say “THAT life is a good one, and THIS life is a good one too.”

My life and my woman-ness as a single is still LIFE. It’s still LIVING. Woman-ness as a married is still LIFE. It’s still LIVING. Woman-ness as a married and as a mother is still LIFE. It’s still LIVING. The latter two are not a better life or the very best possible life, they are just a DIFFERENT LIFE.

We need to shift the narrative from DIFFERENT = BETTER, and DIFFERENT = the PRIZE that you must pursue.

Perhaps, in this season of singleness what I’m learning is a gift, in and of itself: finding more of me, discovering what makes my heart beat, and growing more and more into the “whoness” that uniquely makes me the woman I’m continuing to become.

Women have got to learn how to free each other up in these narratives.

Lord willing, when marriage comes knocking at my door at the right time, I will answer and I will, by God’s grace, be ready for that very big adventure.

But you know what else I’m gonna do? I’m gonna speak into the hearts and souls of single women in my life and within my influence and I’m gonna tell them to keep pursuing the life that they have. Keep thriving, keep flourishing, keep growing in the beauty that you are. 

This life, right now, is your very best life.

Believe this.

Anything that will happen to you next is an EXPANSION on the very best life that you’re already living. Expansion. Not Completion. Expansion. Live out that expansion from the wholeness you already live from. There is depth and beauty and goodness and richness already at home in your soul.

Marriage doesn’t make your life a very best life. Motherhood doesn’t make your life a very best life. If it did, what would we say to the woman who never gets married? The woman who lost her new husband six months into their marriage? The widow burying the love her life after 50 years of partnership? What would we say to the woman who wants to get pregnant but cannot carry children in her womb? The mother who lost three babies in miscarriage? The mother who has adult children but is estranged from them?

What would say to them?

What would we say?

I hope we would say your life is beautiful and its very best because YOU are in it. You are using the gift of this life from God by living it every day. Your living makes this life its very best life.

If you need these words, let them cover you and remind you of what’s true. Selah.

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Moles

I really like my esthetician, Isabel. She is from Colombia, she is kind and gracious, and her eyes seem lit with joy every time I see her. 

But Isabel does not like my moles. I prefer to call them beauty marks. She prefers to call them unnecessary. She wants them off my face. She says they’re not needed. All it will take is a simple procedure to remove the 16 or so moles. It will also take just $150, which I’m not in a hurry to pay. This isn’t a necessity people! It’s more of an option. I like options.

Options give you time to consider an array of opportunities. And as I’ve considered removing my beauty marks, I realize I actually don’t want to. Each one of my marks reminds me of my mother Gloria. She has very similar beauty moles on her face, closest to her high cheekbones. I got the same cheekbones too. I love my mama. And looking like her makes me feel good.

Getting rid of my beauty marks would mean, in a small way, letting go of something that connects me to my mama. I don’t want to do that. I won’t do that. Isabel may or may not understand my decision to not do the mole removal procedure. But I love my moles. I love them and they’re mine.

“If you are always trying to be normal, you will never know how amazing you can be.”                                   – Maya Angelou

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A Letter to The President

It’s significant to me that the presidency for America’s first African-American president will come to a close next Thursday, January 19, 2017. It’s significant to many, many people in my life, throughout the nation, and around the world.

It’s significant to pause and consider America changed her history eight years ago and elected her first-ever African American president and person of color president. That’s worthy of celebration. America CHANGED HER HISTORY. She showed that race and color could no longer be a barrier to how she would be led by her own people.

That had never happened before on a presidential level. 

I’ve had the honor to vote in five elections in my lifetime. 1st time in 2000, as a 20 yr-old. And eight of those 16 years that span my voting experience were lived during America’s 1st African-American Presidency. That is historic. That gives me pause.

These eight years and this presidency were not without their challenges, questions, and at times disappointments. But this is life. And we grow through how we learn, listen, and use moments to shape us for more opportunities in the future.

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Seeing President Barack Obama, First Lady Michelle, and their beautiful daughters Malia and Sasha in The White House the last eight years = significance because seeing them means I see me. I see an affirmation of brown skin and black culture that poured confidence and belonging into my soul.

I see tender respect for family, marriage, parenting, and love. I see my President and First Lady, but I also see a dad who hilariously imitates his teenage daughters on their cell phones texting to their friends, “Girl, I couldn’t believe it…” and a mom who goes to CVS to get earphones for her daughter. I see America. Diverse. Not all the same and learning to respect the differences in others. Bridging the gaps. Crossing the divides.

When reports surfaced throughout these eight years at different times of American citizens publicly and often via social media calling The First Lady a “first chimp” or a “monkey” and The President a “spider monkey” or a “nigger” it digs into the significance that grew my confidence through this presidency. It hurts. It makes me mad. People are still calling black people animals some 154 years after the end of American slavery and the declaration of The Emancipation Proclamation. Still seeing us as not human, not enough, less than simply because our skin is a different shade. That hate for The President and The First Lady is unconsciously absorbed by me because I look just like them. I’m black. The hate that so easily spews from ignorant minds towards the leader of the free world can just as easily come my way.

This callous racism surfaces because of the color of the President and The First Lady’s skin, parts of their physical makeup and identity they had no choice in selecting. God created them in His image. He chose their brown skin. He chose my brown skin. He chose all the skin colors in this world. Before the world knew any of us, He knew us. He was present as we were being knit together in our mama’s wombs. He knew US. And this is why the dig of racism is so vitriolic, so sinful, and very demonic: It calls what God created with intention and from love defective and unworthy. And this kind of severe brokenness can only be redeemed through the power and the blood of Jesus Christ.

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Racism forces me to stop and accept that though America did change her history, many people don’t want to live in the present. They lust for the prejudice and bigotry of the past. I hate that people want hate more than they want racial diversity, cultural understanding, and relationships with others who don’t look like them or come from the same background as them. I hate that ignorance is just as alive and well in 2017 as it was after Civil War Reconstruction and early Jim Crow laws took their death grip across the American South and other parts of the nation.

Hate had grandchildren and her sister racism did the same and now we are here. We are here dealing with their kids and we are here trying to protect our kids and we are here fighting to be human.

And yet hate will not win. She’s riddled with deficits.

Love has already won this war and the banner of victory rests beautifully on the shoulders of Jesus, the Messiah. He fills in all the gaps that hate leaves empty and deformed. He is The One who holds all things together:

15 He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. 16 For by[f] him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him.17 And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together.

Colossians 1: 15-17

His love reminds me to have hope. That hope inspired me to write a letter of thanks to The President and First Lady this week. In the face of intense realities these last eight years, they both served in their human giftings and also human limitations, with faith and diligence, as they opened their lives and shared their family with millions in our country and around the world. They showed up for the challenges and are leaving next week, having woven some new tapestry into the fabric of America’s ever-evolving story.

In my 37 years of life, this is the first time I’ve written to The President of The United States. The first time I’ve mailed something to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, NW, Washington, DC 20500. Yesterday, I kept looking at the envelope with my handwriting, touched the stamps, and thought to myself, “I’m mailing a letter to The President. Wow.” I feel like I’m a part of history. I’m grateful for that.

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