Finding Melodie

"Losing. Grieving. Mourning. Loving. Living."

Nia

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I think of her and my breath still gets taken away. What if 21 years ago I was walking somewhere with people I love and a random stranger, a white male recently released on parole, ran up to me unprovoked and stabbed me in the neck and stabbed my loved one and then ran away? 21 years of my life as a black young woman would have ceased to exist. Because everything after that heinous moment would not have been. Every laugh that tickled up my vocal chords into the ears of those who love me, every new birthday, every moment growing more into this brown skin, every tear shed through struggles that made these melanin muscles stronger, every breath given from God that gave me more footing to see this world and love and discover Him deeply. Everything would have stopped at 18. It’s not fair that everything has stopped at 18 for her. It’s not fair, it’s not right, and I’m numb at times understanding and living out what it means to be a black woman in America…and the intersectionality that comes with it.

Nia, I remember you, little sister. I remember you. I want this to be made right. I want this to be better. #NiaWilson #sayhername

25 Hours, 3 Countries

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I’ve been escapading around the world, Asia via The Philippines to be exact, and it was a prolific and deeply impactful experience for me. My trip began May 1st and here’s a little bit of what my eyes, ears, and heart took in when I traveled back to the U.S. from Manila to Tokyo, to Atlanta and then finally to Orlando on May 11th:

I’m standing near mirrors after washing my hands in one of the Tokyo airport restrooms. A little Asian girl with pigtails, probably about 4 years old is walking out with her mom. They stop as mom washes and dries her hands. I notice the little one peeking around her mom, at me.

I look at her and smile.

She smiles back sweetly with that precocious innocence that kids have that you want to keep safe forever and waves at me as she exits the restroom with her mama.

That made my heart smile. A great deal.

10 or so minutes later, I walk around the peaceful and sunlit terminal to stretch my legs a bit. I see the little one with her family, resting and waiting for their flight. She sees me and waves again. I wave back.

And we didn’t even say one word to each other…but kindness is recognized beyond languages.

…..

Arrived in Atlanta this afternoon a little after 3:30 pm.

I leave for Orlando at 6:55 pm.

While in the international terminal at the ATL airport, I was washing my hands in a restroom and heard a beautiful African melody in a language I did not know floating through the air. It seemed to be the same line sung over and over with a sweet, steady affection.

It reminded me of the song the tribes of Wakanda were singing during the waterfall ceremony when T’Challa became king in the movie Black Panther.

A moment later, one of the airport employees came out of a stall and began cleaning around the counter. She was the hidden singer. She was an older black woman, a little under 5 feet and seemed very content.

I began brushing my teeth and kept listening to her song.

I finished a minute or so later, smiled at her and asked, “What is the song that you are singing?”

She stopped, a little surprised, smiled and asked me if I was Nigerian. Her English was touched gently with an African dialect.

I said I was American and she said the song was about Hannah, the woman in the Bible who prayed to God for a child and God blessed her with a child.

She kept affirming, “Hannah prayed…God answered…Hannah prayed…God answered.” 

I listened to her words and I heard her. I heard her. There was truth in those melodies. And God was in those melodies too.

I smiled at her, thanked her and said, “God bless you sister” as I headed out of the restroom.

That melody is still touching my heart.

…..

I’m sitting at my gate, ready to board my last flight in this 25-hour travel journey through three countries and four airports. Orlando…home…is just an hour and a half flight away. Sunlight beams into the large floor to ceiling windows behind me. The ATL airport is a little calm and chill where I am from the typical noisy and action-filled movement that flows through terminals.

I’m fidgeting around with something – maybe cleaning my glasses or organizing a personal bag – when a woman next to me gets my attention. She begins speaking in Spanish and pointing to her phone.

I can see that she’s trying to access the internet but it’s not connecting. She’s speaking in Spanish and I’m speaking in English. Then I say in some pretty simple beginner’s  Spanish that I can’t speak Spanish but then an idea comes to me. I remember Google Translate and how I used it often a season ago to connect with special messages someone in my life would send to me.

I pulled it up, put in a line that shared maybe she should try connecting to the free airport WiFi again and selected Spanish to translate it. I handed my phone to her and she immediately understood. She typed back in Spanish and selected English for me to read her reply. She was from Colombia.

That began a few minutes of Google Translate conversations…she writing and me reading, me writing and she reading. I landed on the idea that maybe even though the WiFi in the airport was free, she wouldn’t be able to connect because she didn’t have a U.S. phone number.

That happened to me often in The Philippines. There was free WiFi many places, but when asked to type in my phone number, I couldn’t because my number wasn’t from the country. Interesting, eh?

She understood my idea. I encouraged her to try again on the plane…maybe it would work there?

…..

More than a day of travel and the gift of three international experiences in my international travel home. From a sweet little Asian girl to a truth-singing Nigerian sister and a kind Colombian woman, I got to experience a little bit more of the world along with Manila.

Balay Dako means “Big House” in Negrense, one of the languages spoken in The Philippines. During my last day, I enjoyed desserts with friends at this restaurant named Balay Dako. It’s perched above an incredibly huge lake that has a volcano inside of it.

“I Am From” Poem

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I am from red Georgia clay roads that I call home whose dust sweetly greets me like a southern melody.

I am from Southwest Dekalb high school newspapers that changed my destiny and R&B mixtapes made from the radio by an only child in her mother’s brick condo.

I am from Atlanta, Decatur, Manchester, Eatonton, Virginia, Cameroon/Congo, Ivory Coast/Ghana, Benin/Togo, Mali, and sweet magnolia trees that smell like kindness and honeysuckle blossoms that make you feel like summer’s never gonna end.

I am from 80-year-old pecan giants in my grandmother’s country yard, trees who graciously gave me shade to play under and memories that could be kept no matter the seasons.

I am from 1989 roller skates raced in after school in elementary hallways and pink and white hula hoops balanced on little hips, rolled around necks and circled around skinny ankles,

I am from James and Gloria, from love that wanted to work and stay together but the words couldn’t hold tight to explain why they didn’t.

I am from Lena’s deep goodness and Lucille’s honey love,

From Essie Mae’s sugar-baby kisses, grandmamas and great aunts whose smiles and cheekbones keep speaking through me in adulthood and whose resilience caught my tears and made me feel that I was seen and known and beautiful and valuable and special because I  belonged to them.

I am from black-eyed peas and collard greens enjoyed every New Year’s Day,

From peppermint sticks eaten near old southern gas heaters and Auntie’s candied carrot souffle.

I am from Gloria’s confidence that walked integration into Atlanta’s civilian divisions in the decade that followed Dr. King’s Dream,

And from James’ brilliance that fused wild creativity expeditiously, almost instinctively into my blood and bones.

I am from asymmetrical bangs cut into layers and crimped tresses that were so fly in ‘96,

From the moments that sit on the edge of perfect harmonies heard over Sony Discmans when you’re innocent enough to dream about everything,

I am from pens and paper that made poems who won statewide contests,

And faith in Him nurtured nearly 20 years that’s sustained me when I’m beautiful and kept me when I’m broken.

I am from my mother’s smile and my father’s eyes.

I am from red Georgia clay roads that I call home whose dust sweetly greets me like a southern melody.

I hold onto that dust. It brings me closer to myself than I realize as it gives me freedom to be willing to fly.

Much Has Happened in My World This Year

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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.

Finding Me Truth #11: Fingerprints in The Tension

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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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Just when you find that sweet spot in life, that comfortable place, that uncanny familiar, change comes in like a flaming bat out of hell and whirlwinds all your comfortable up. If you’re limited in your thinking you’ll fight it every way you can. But, if you’re ready to grow, you’ll embrace change like a new love and let it lead you to growth you could never dream of but always sensed you desperately needed.

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