You know that all-encompassing “they” that direct and control your life course, your choices, your happiness?
The “they” in “what will they say?” or “what will they think?”
But, they don’t live your life, do they?
Then why should their opinion matter as much as they do, or at all?
‘Cause, the reality is this:
If you spent your entire life aiming to please “they”, you still could not accomplish the feat. “They” have an insatiable/unquenchable appetite of opinions that you will never satisfy.
So … how do you get around these notoriously-negative-opinionated “they”?
First, with knowing you are uniquely you.
The path you take will be influenced by what is intrinsically you—your internal compass.
Second, love and trust yourself and your judgment.
Operate from that intuitive knowledge about who you are (starting with you’re a child of the Most High God) and what you really desire, then live by those terms.
And to top it off, add a good dose of perspective on the opinions of “they” and …
Dress—for you
Post that selfie—for you
Do that workout—for you
You get the picture, right?
Do you, not “they”, ‘cause only you have to live with the consequences of your decisions.
Beforeword: Appreciating the beauty of what a country offers while still acknowledging its history and the injustices carried in its soil.
I’ve written quite a bit about my trip and visit to Australia. If you’ve read these posts — Tasmania, Bruny Island, Perth, Sydney, Melbourne — you may have noticed I made no mention of encounters with Aboriginal people.
Silence.
Unseen.
That wasn’t deliberate. It was unavoidable — I couldn’t write what I did not see or know how to name.
In all my experiences, in all the places I visited, I was struck by how little visible Aboriginal presence I encountered. I intentionally looked — on the streets, in the stores, in the everyday movements of public life.
That absence felt palpable.
And yet, what was very present was the Welcome to Country or Acknowledgement of Country— a statement recognizing the Traditional Custodians of the land. No meeting or public event started without it. It echoed across media, institutions, performances, and gatherings.
For Bruny Island, someone might say:
“I acknowledge the Nuenonne people of the South East Nation, Traditional Custodians of Bruny Island (Lunawanna-alonnah).”
Or in Melbourne:
“I acknowledge the Traditional Custodians of the land on which we gather today, the Wurundjeri Woi-wurrung people of the Kulin Nation.”
I appreciated the practice. I still do.
But I also wrestled with the tension of it. The tension that made me ask:
What does it mean for a people to be acknowledged in words while their presence felt so unseen?
How do you admire a country while also recognizing histories of displacement, dispossession, and attempted erasure?
Because appreciating a place and acknowledging injustice are not contradictions.
Australia gave me breathtaking coastlines, museums, architecture, wildlife, gardens, art, and moments that genuinely moved me. I stood in awe at the Sydney Opera House. I wandered through Tasmania’s quiet beauty. I watched kangaroos casually occupying golf courses as if they paid membership dues. Australia did not disappoint.
And, nowhere did this sit more heavily with me than in the story of Truganini. It was relayed in pieces by the tour guide on my Bruny Island tour. My intrigue led me to research Truganini’s story.
Born around 1812, Truganini was a Nuenonne woman from Bruny Island, often remembered as one of the last survivors of her people after colonization devastated Aboriginal communities in Tasmania. She lived through profound violence and displacement. Family members were killed. Land was taken. Her people were pushed to the margins of the very place that had sustained them for generations.
Before her death in 1876, Truganini made a simple but profound request: that her body be treated with dignity and not exploited after death. She feared being displayed as a curiosity.
Yet her wishes were ignored.
Her remains were exhibited publicly for decades in a museum — a final indignity after a lifetime marked by dispossession. It would take many years before her ashes were finally returned to the sea near her ancestral homeland, fulfilling, belatedly, the dignity she had requested all along.
As part of my visit I took the 279-step climb to Truganini Lookout and for me, each step felt like a blow-by-blow walk into history.
At the top, there is an unobstructed view of the island stretching out in both directions — narrow, windswept, exposed, held together by a thin strip of land. Beautiful. But grounding too. Because the name, Truganini Lookout, carries the story of a woman who fought for the survival and dignity of her people — the Palawa, the Aboriginal people of Lutruwita (Tasmania).
I did not know her full story before arriving, but something about it tugged on my heartstrings because it did not feel distant to me.
I am the product of both Jamaica and Canada, and both carry their own version of this ache.
In Jamaica, it is the near disappearance of the Taino people and the enduring legacy of Nanny and the Maroons, who fought fiercely for freedom, dignity, and the right to exist on their own terms. (See my post about Accompong.)
In Canada, it is the story of First Nations, Inuit, and Métis peoples — communities who survived displacement, cultural suppression, residential schools, and generations of policies designed to erase Indigenous identity.
In both countries, the story is not one of complete disappearance, but of remarkable survival.
What remains are the fragments and the continuities: names, memory, ancestry, language, stories, traditions, and a growing effort to recover what was lost, restore what was taken, and call people and places by their rightful names.
Standing on Bruny Island, I recognized the familiar—Different histories. Different peoples. Different continents. Yet the same enduring struggle to remember, reclaim, and remain.
Travel Reveals Strange Mirrors
When I travel I almost always visit the museums or historical sites, looking out for what mirrors my own history and experiences. Sometimes travel reveals strange mirrors — like familiar names in unfamiliar places.
Kingston.
A name I know as home in Jamaica also exists in Tasmania. And, of course, there is Kingston, Ontario, in Canada — another place woven into my story.
It made me pause, first from the feeling of familiarity which made me reach for my phone to capture this sign post:
Three Kingstons. Three geographies. Three distinct histories shaped, in different ways, by the legacy of empire and colonization.
The connection is not in the name itself but in what it prompted me to consider: how places separated by oceans can carry stories that mimic one another. How histories of settlement, displacement, resistance, and survival often leave similar footprints on different shores.
As a Jamaican-Canadian standing on Australian soil, I found myself noticing these intersections everywhere. Not because the stories are identical, but because they ask similar questions about belonging, memory, identity, and whose stories get told.
Different continents. Different peoples. Yet familiar sentiments shaped by similar patterns.
Talawah & Palawa
The other mirror showed up in two words, not as a shared meaning but a shared feeling.
Palawa is the name for Aboriginal Tasmanians and it echoed a word deeply familiar to me as a Jamaican— talawah.
In Jamaica, talawah describes something small but fierce. Resilient. Tough. Quietly powerful. The kind of strength that survives.
And somehow, standing in a place shaped by dispossession and endurance, the echo between Palawa and talawah stayed with me. Different histories. Different peoples. Yet something familiar in the story of survival.
Maybe that is why Bruny Island tugged at my heart more than I expected.
Because beneath all its beauty sat something recognizable: the ache of what colonization took and continues to take, the endurance of those who survive it, and the reminder that history matters.
The beauty of Australia in flowers
Australia did not disappoint.
But neither was I oblivious.
I can appreciate the beauty of what a country offers while still acknowledging its history and the injustices carried in its soil.
Perhaps that, too, is a kind of acknowledgement of country.
Beforeword: This travel story reveals how I experienced Bruny Island, Tasmania. It the island doesn’t overwhelm. It doesn’t ask for attention. But if you give it, it stays with you.
I’m writing this post sitting on a tour bus that’s parked on a ferry that is transporting us back from Bruny Island to mainland Tasmania and I’m reflecting on the day that is now concluding.
About Bruny Island
Bruny Island is set just off the southeast coast of Tasmania. A 30-minute drive south of the city, Hobart, to the ferry terminal followed by a short ferry ride and you’re there.
Geographically, it’s part of Australia, yet once you cross that stretch of water, you feel the shift—the most obvious is that the roads narrow. But, as the distance grows, so is the sense that you’ve stepped into a different rhythm altogether.
Start in tranquility
The morning started on a quiet beach.
Before a single “attraction” had been ticked off, the tranquility of the beach set the tone.
Breakfast was oysters (hard pass for me), cheese, and bread. The cheeses were delicious including Bruny Island award-winning C2 hard cheese. The bread was decadent and that’s not an exaggeration. Freshly baked, still warm, stored in a used microwave turned breadbox set in the baker’s fence.
And guess who collected the bread?! Moi!!
You’re wondering how that happened, aren’t ya?! Well, the only seat on the bus where my legs fit comfortably was up front by the driver (tall girl problems) so I became his sidekick on the tour.
Someone on the tour surprised me with this video of me retrieving the bread from the microwave turned breadbox.
Adventure in wild life and light house
Next we made our way toward Adventure Bay. One adventure was scanning the landscape for a white wallaby. Albino. Rare. Not promised. Of course, this laidback island would not deliver on cue. You show up, you look, and if you’re lucky, you see. If not, you keep moving. And we saw—not one but four white wallabies.
Further south, the road eventually gives way to one of the island’s most striking landmarks—Cape Bruny Lighthouse. Built in 1838, it is one of the oldest surviving lighthouses in Australia. Though no longer functional it stands watch where the Tasman Sea meets the fierce winds rolling up from the Southern Ocean.
We climbed about 70 steps up a narrow cast-iron spiral staircase that winds upward through the tower. At the top balcony, the reward was immediate—rugged cliffs and the wild southern coastline stretching in every direction to the horizon.
Lunch was at the quaint and small Hotel Bruny. The tour guide described the pink eye potatoes, that are native to Tas, as scrumptious so you know I ordered those as part of my lunch. The tour guide didn’t exaggerate.
Sweetness in small doses
We were treated to sweetness in small doses. First at Bruny Island Honey then Bruny Island Chocolate Company. The honey ice cream left me craving more!
More goodies in unusual places
Somewhere between those stops—no sign announcing it, no marker alerting to pay attention, only a slight hint by the tour guide—then a set of three antiques refrigerators sitting by the roadside came into view at Sheepwash Road.
What was this?
Inside, loaves of sourdough bread and cookies baked by John Bullock, aka the Bruny Baker. Not a shopfront. No one standing there. Just a small box for payment and an unspoken agreement: take what you need, leave what you owe.
That stayed with me for a while. That system only works because people choose to make it work. It depends on trust, not enforcement. If it works on Bruny island couldn’t it work elsewhere!?
That’s when the island started to make more sense.
As we continued, I realized how easy it would be to miss entire parts of Bruny if you weren’t paying attention. Again, I’m not exaggerating.
When I say if “don’t blink or you’ll miss it” had a physical form, it would be Bruny main town. I kid you not, the tour guide announced: “We’re entering the main town” and by the time I changed the phone from photo to video we are through the town and he wasn’t driving fast.
The Island truly moves on a different frequency. The way distances are marked reinforces it.
Road signs don’t tell you how far something is—they tell you how long it will take to get there. Time, not distance, is the measure that matters.
And just like that you stop asking: “How far?” and start asking: “How long?”; and not in a “are-we-there-yet?” way but from an unaware shifting in your thinking. And somehow, that small change slows everything down.
As the day was winding down the tour guide told the story of Truganini. By the time we got to Truganini Lookout climbing the 279 steps felt like a step-by-step walk back into history.
Bruny is also known as Lunawanna, a name from the Aboriginal people of the island. And standing there at the Lookout, it’s impossible not to think about Truganini—her life, what it represented, and what was lost.
From the top you have an unobstructed view of the island stretching out before you in both directions, narrow and exposed, held together by a thin strip of land. It’s beautiful, but it’s also grounding. Because the name carries a history of a powerful woman who fought for the protection and freedom of her people—the Palawa people of Lutruwita (Tasmania).
I didn’t know her specific story but it tugged on my heart strings because it didn’t feel distant to me.
Jamaica carries its own version of that story. The near disappearance of the Taino people. The powerful woman, Nanny, who also fought for the protection and freedom of her people. The fragments we continue to hold on to today (see my post about Accompong). And, the things we’re still trying to recover and name properly. Different geographies, same pattern.
By the end of the day, I realized Bruny hadn’t tried to overwhelm with highlights.
It had the feeling of: do one thing, do it properly, and don’t complicate it. So, you savor it.
It didn’t stack experiences on top of each other or rush me from one moment to the next. It gave me space—between places, between thoughts, between expectations.
And in that space, the details started to matter more:
A fridge on the side of the road.
Experiences that traveled across continents and found similar meaning.
A place so small you could miss it.
A lighthouse so imposing you can’t miss it.
Bruny doesn’t overwhelm. It doesn’t ask for attention. But if you give it, it stays with you.
Beforeword: This Sabbath inspirational reflection highlights that living a life of faith is being comfortable in living in the space between what is and what could be.
Have you ever found yourself between a rock and a hard place? Feeling as if you’re trapped between two difficult circumstances with no obvious good option or feeling you must act under pressure and uncertainty?
There are moments in life that don’t come with certainty—only that questioning “maybe.”
He was there because an enemy nation had established a garrison blocking in Israel and holding them in fear. Jonathan took action unbeknownst to the King who had taken up a position of passivity under a pomegranate tree with his soldiers.
Because of the enemy’s blockade, the only options before Jonathan to break through were two cliffs. And as if that wasn’t challenging enough, one cliff face was thorny while the other was slippery.
On either side, there was a different kind of challenge. The path was not clear and there was no guaranteed outcome. Yet Jonathan took a decision to move forward anyway.
That’s the tension of a “maybe moment.”
Even when you’re walking in God’s will, it can still feel uncertain, unsteady and even sharp in some instances.
In the story of Jonathan there’s no record that God spoke beforehand to give reassurance or to lay out a roadmap. Yet Jonathan moved. Then God showed up.
Faith often lives in those “maybe” cliffs. Not the ones outside of us, but the ones within—fear, doubt, hesitation, the need for control.
Victory in those moments asks something uncomfortable of us: vulnerability. That is, the willingness to let go off of what hinders our faith so that we can step forward even without full clarity. To trust God when we have no proof or to move even when there are no guarantees.
It was after Jonathan moved that the way to victory was revealed.
That is where a life of faith is lived—in the space between what is and what could be.
Jonathan’s willingness to act, based on his trust in God, sparked the deliverance of his people.
So, if you find yourself in a “maybe”moment today—standing between slippery and thorny ground—don’t wait for certainty.
Trust God and step anyway.
Shabbat Shalom. May God’s peace be with you and guide you through thorny and slippery places.
Timing really is everything. My trip to Jamaica aligned with one of the island’s longest and most enduring stories of freedom, resistance, self-determination, and cultural resilience—the story of the Maroons.
The original Maroons were a mix of indigenous Taínos and Africans brought to Jamaica in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries who resisted British enslavement and established independent communities deep in the rugged mountainous interior known as the Cockpit Country.
On January 6, 2026 I had the privilege of attending the 288th annual celebration of the Maroons of Accompong.
The story behind the Accompong celebration stretches back nearly three centuries to the end of the First Maroon War.
The day commemorates both the birth of the Maroon leader Kojo (Cudjoe) and his victory over the British, which led to the signing of the 1739 Peace Treaty. That treaty formally recognized Maroon freedom, granted land and self-governance, and laid the foundation for an autonomy that is still honored today.
The road to Accompong took us through small rural farming towns and villages, many shaped during the plantation era. Roads precariously carved into mountainsides—with deep precipices on one side—kept my foot planted on an imaginary brake on the passenger side, while the driver calmly assured us he knew these roads well enough to get us there safely.
Accompong is in St. Elizabeth Parish. The community sits approximately 1,400–1,500 feet above sea level, surrounded by steep limestone hills and dense forest—terrain that once provided natural protection for Maroon resistance fighters.
The Parish was severely impacted by Hurricane Melissa. The damage is still visible in both nature and infrastructure. Known as Jamaica’s breadbasket, St. Elizabeth contributes a significant share of domestic food output. The effects of Melissa’s destruction will be felt here and across the Island for years to come.
Still, the hurricane could not interrupt 288 years of commemoration. Even as rain fell, the Maroons, under the leadership of Chief Richard Currie, carried on.
As I arrived, the sound of the Abeng horn—a cow horn once used to signal danger and communicate across the mountains—rang out, calling the Maroons to assemble.
We made our way to the Kindah Tree—Kindah meaning “one family.”Once a massive mango tree that spread its canopy wide to shelter gatherings from the sun, it now stands reduced to less than half its size after Hurricane Melissa’s winds.
Chief Currie addressed the gathering with no script, speaking plainly about peace, autonomy, and the responsibility to keep Maroon culture alive, not simply remembered.
Drummers, singers, and dancers gathered for ritual. Attendees sat on rocks likely used by Maroon warriors centuries ago—places where strategies were planned against the British or victories quietly celebrated.
Though as visitors we looked on, this was no performance, no spectacle—only purpose. Sound and movement drawing people into a shared memory. And for me, standing there alongside two of Jamaica’s leading historians who offered history lessons in real time, the past felt close and conversational.
Later, the Maroons descended to the old town to honor their ancestors with offerings of freshly cooked food. This part of the observance is reserved for Maroons only, and the boundary is deeply respected.
Attendance was lighter this year due to the storm’s aftermath, but those of us who were present witnessed ancestral rituals, drumming, dance, and storytelling—core expressions of the Maroon legacy.
For a first-time witness, nothing about the day felt like reenactment. In the movement of bodies, the rhythm of drums, the blare of the Abeng, and the unfiltered words of the Chief, I saw pride, reflection, and remembrance moving together. I felt humbled to witness it.
The drums still beat. The Abeng still calls. The people still gather.
Ever wondered what it’s like at a Maroon celebration? It’s not history on display. It’s continuity. Accompong remains freedom practiced—resilient, rooted, and self-defined.
Monument close to entrance of the town reads: HOMAGE TO THE HERO Kojo or Cudjoe is regarded as one of the great resistance leaders against the military-plantation governments which followed the English conquest of 1655. This town of Accompong grew out of a fortified Maroon outpost established about the commencement of the 18th century during the First Maroon War. The town was established by Accompong at the direction of his brother Kojo. The war continued for nearly 50 years. Finally the English asked for peace. On March 1, 1739, a treaty was signed bringing the First Maroon War to an end. Kojo died at over 90. Jamaica National Trust Commission
The word I chose as my ‘north star’ for 2025 was HOPE. Little did I know that the shifts in the global health architecture would test what I thought hope meant.
Hope showed up as restraint, as holding ground when the ground was shifting.
Budgets shrank, systems cracked, and innovation was rebranded as survival. Gender equality was not celebrated; it was defended. Holding the line became the work. And climate shocks made this uneven—hitting small islands hardest: livelihoods washed away, unpaid care multiplied, choices narrowed. Still, the line held.
We learned that keeping the door for a clinic from closing can be as hard as opening one. Partners asked what was new, and the truest answer felt almost defiant: we stayed. We protected what women and girls already fought for. We held the line—not because it was easy or visible, but because retreat would cost too much. That’s where hope lived—in the dogged refusal to undo progress, in the daily choice to guard sexual reproductive health and rights when attention moved elsewhere.
This was not loud hope. It was working hope. Throughout 2025 hope carried on as a quiet expectation that progress, though slowed, was still possible.
And, as we stand on the cusp of 2026—for gender equality, for sexual and reproductive health and rights, for bodily autonomy and dignity; from conflict-affected and climate-exposed communities to the frontlines where women’s bodies remain contested terrain:
Let hope stand its ground Without banners or applause Possibility
2026 All Rights Reserved Photo by Absalom Robinson on Pexels.com
I’ve been quiet here, not from lack of words, but because life shifted fast and hard. I recently relocated to Kenya for work — a major transition that has demanded my full attention, mind, and energy.
At the same time, my heart has been anchored back home, as I watched the devastation of Hurricane Melissa unfold across Jamaica. Many of you have shared kind words to the posts I managed to get out on the situation in Jamaica. Again, THANK YOU!
Holding both realities at once has been heavy. The emotional toll of uprooting, starting over in a new country, and witnessing so much loss in a place that shaped me has been A LOT. Some days I’ve felt stretched thin between responsibility and grief, between staying strong and needing rest.
I’ve taken this brief pause from this online space to steady myself and make space to process it all. Writing is never far from me, even when I’m quiet, and I’ll be back here soon with new stories, new reflections, and the same commitment to honesty and hope. I’ve got so much to share including from being on the ground in Jamaica, watch this space!
Thank you for your prayers and your steady presence here.
Quiet roots take hold Storms pass, tired hearts still rise Rest, to bloom again
If you’re able to support Jamaica’s recovery, the government has set up a site to coordinate all support coming to our beautiful island. We are grateful for all the countries, organizations, individuals, charities etc. that have come to our aid. We’re eternally grateful.
For those with personality traits which can be classified as “introverted”, give them quiet chilled events, few people and less stimulating environments and they’re in their element.
I’m drawn to nature. I can spend hours by myself in a park, by a river, in a garden because the quiet and stillness that I find underneath trees and on river banks never fail to invoke wonder and contentedness within me.
For people with my personality traits, it means that we focus on internal feelings rather than seeking out external sources of stimulation. It doesn’t mean we’re shy, but more reticent.
With my quiet, reserved, and introspective way of being, the mask has been like my superpower. Not as a disguise but as a buffer. Behind the mask I can process some of the information I so readily take in from the environment and doing so discretely.
Suffice it to say, in 2025 I’m still wearing my mask —a.k.a. my superpower—in crowded enclosed spaces though it’s now okay not to mask up.
All Rights Reserved Published 2022 Republished 2025 Images by me
When a clay pot falls to the ground, breaking is inevitable.
The impact shatters what once was whole—jagged edges, scattered fragments, a loss of shape and function. Even if one dares to gather the pieces, attempts to put it back together often leave visible cracks—scars that speak louder than the former beauty. Scarred. Scarred for life. No longer fit for display. Discarding seems inevitable.
But what if that isn’t the end of the story?
Enter the ancient Japanese art of Kintsugi—the practice of repairing broken pottery with lacquer mixed with powdered gold.
Kintsugi doesn’t pretend the break never happened. It doesn’t hide the damage. Instead, it honors it, emphasizing the fractures, not to glorify the break, but to highlight the healing.
The gold-filled cracks become a testimony of endurance and transformation. The vessel, once discarded, is now more precious than before—made whole with beauty drawn from brokenness.
Psalm 147:3 says, “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
God, the ultimate Kintsugi Artist, does not discard us when we break, when we shatter.
He does not hide our brokenness beneath shame or pretense. Instead, He gathers every piece—every break caused by sorrow or trauma—and binds them together with His grace, His mercy, His love. His healing doesn’t erase the wounds—it redeems them. The scars remain, but now they gleam with purpose.
Like Kintsugi, divine healing does not restore us to what we were before. It makes us stronger, more radiant, more whole in a new way—a living testimony of how God’s hands can turn brokenness into beauty.
So if you find yourself cracked, fragmented, or shattered, remember this: you are not ruined—you are ready. Ready to be remade by the One who sees your worth, even in pieces.
Proud to celebrate the International Day for Women and Girls of African Descent!
Today, July 25th, as we mark the International Day for Women and Girls of African Descent, I reflect on the profound strength and unwavering spirit required in a time of deliberate pushback against fundamental rights, equality, diversity, and inclusion.
This moment demands a reckoning with the systemic barriers that Afro-descendant women and girls continue to face, even as their contributions and leadership are more critical than ever. It’s a reminder that the fight for justice and dignity is ongoing, and that every step forward is hard-won.
“Rising Together: Women and Girls of African Descent Leading with Strength” is not just a theme for today; it’s a living testament to the resilience, innovation, and leadership demonstrated by Black women and girls every single day. From community organizing to global advocacy, from scientific breakthroughs to artistic expressions, their impact is immeasurable. This day serves as a reminder of the collective power we hold, and the urgent need to dismantle the structures that perpetuate discrimination and inequality.
Let’s honor this day by not only celebrating but also by committing to concrete actions that support the rights, well-being, and empowerment of Afro-descendant women and girls worldwide.
2025 All Rights Reserved Photo by Absalom Robinson on Pexels.com
Sitting here thinking how amazing it is that there is a community that follows and responds to what I write.
It was the early part of the COVID pandemic. Y’all remember that?! Seems so long ago now. The world had gone still—streets emptied, doors closed, and I joined many others in working from home. But inside, my spirit stirred.
With everything stripped back to essentials, I turned inward and found an urge to share—words, thoughts, reflections. All I had was a menu of words—too many to keep locked inside—and with social distancing strictly enforced, there was nowhere to express them out loud.
So I laid a virtual table, set it with truth, care and sincerity and set out to curate a diverse menu of expressed options. Each post was a plate, each sentence a spoonful of something honest. I knew no one in this new digital landscape. But I prepared it anyway. I didn’t know if anyone would come.
And then, slowly, you arrived—readers I’d never met, drawn not by name or face, but by the invitation of something true. You sat, you dined, you stayed. Strangers became companions through comment threads and quiet visits. I had offered my words. You received them. I am grateful.
To be read, a gift. To be known through one’s own words is to be affirmed.
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There was no map, only the certainty that what God placed in me was not random. I didn’t always know how to offer it—sometimes I held back, unsure if it was enough, unsure if I was enough. But the gift has a way of speaking even when we are silent. It opens paths that credentials cannot. It creates space in crowded rooms and summons unexpected invitations. I have learned that when you steward the gift with faithfulness and gratitude, not ambition, it will go ahead of you like a forerunner—making introductions, preparing tables, unlocking destiny.
So, now I show up with what I’ve been given—wholeheartedly. The gift does the rest. And, the gift is about to do it again because as the wisest man said:“A man’s gift makes room for him and brings him before great men.” — Proverbs 18:16 (NKJV)
Not by privilege Doors opened I knew not how The gift leads the way
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Short answer:To provide a space for my voice to be heard.
Why I write declaration: I will be brave, my voice will not die within me unexpressed and unheard.
This is therefore a brave and intentional space for creative self-expression.
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
Maya Angelou
I am motivated to write from observing what I believe God created-by-design like nature, family, love, and relationship.
The title, “createdbyDEEsign”, therefore signifies the co-creation of the works here by my DaddyGod and me.
THE BLOG CONTAINS a collection of poems about love, life, relationships and nature; and midweek motivational boost and inspirational reflections in prose, poetry and images.
Whether you landed in this space by choice or curiosity, I hope being here inspires you to be brave and to use your voice and your mode of creative expressions to show up fully and influence the spaces you occupy.
I appreciate your choosing to meet me here and to interact with my thoughts/words/creative expressions.
To never miss a post click HERE👈 to subscribe & follow the blog. I love hearing from you, so remember to “like” & comment. For more content start HERE👈
In creative solidarity, Dawn
PLEASE NOTE: Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without the express and written permission from me as this site’s author/owner is strictly prohibited. Permission may be requested through a comment to which I will reply granting or denying permission. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Dawn Minott @ http://www.createdbyDEEsign.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Yesterday I reposted the poem I wrote in the immediate aftermath of George Floyd’s murder—I Can’t Breathe.
In the harrowing moment when George Floyd was pinned to the ground—where racial oppression and systemic injustice converged in plain sight—a long-ignored truth was undeniable: racial justice is still the unfinished business of our time.
Five years later I reflect on the reality that true justice cannot stand alone.
Racial justice is inseparable from climate justice, reproductive justice, economic justice — because the same systems that exploit the Earth, police Black bodies, and restrict bodily autonomy are rooted in histories of extraction, enslavement, and colonization.
These struggles are not parallel—they are intertwined. And so must be our response.
We need courageous allyship — not performative, but principled. Allyship that listens more than it speaks, that risks comfort for conscience, that shows up when it’s hard.
We also need the radical empathy to call people in (as Professor Loretta Ross guides us to) rather than merely calling them out, to make room for growth, accountability, and transformation. This is not about softening the demand for justice — it’s about deepening the path to get there.
Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion [DEI] efforts matter, but they are only a beginning.
To honor George Floyd — and Breonna Taylor, Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland, and so many others — we must go further. We must embrace a fundamental rethinking and dismantling of power structures, norms, and narratives that uphold racial and other hierarchies that lead to injustices.
From individual introspection to institutional reform, from boardrooms to classrooms, from policy to protest — the work must be as deep as the wound.
George Floyd should still be alive. So should countless others. Let their deaths not be in vain. Let them be the reason we build a world where justice is not a demand but a lived reality — shared, sustained, and centered in humanity.
She disembarked the express train at Grand Central Station, fresh from one appointment and with exactly ten minutes to get to the next — a ten-minute walk away. Which meant she’d be either perfectly on time or inevitably late.
Photo provided by Pexel
She puts on her “don’t talk to me” face — the commuter’s shield — and dove into the current of bodies, weaving through crowds, dodging subway detours, blinders on, purpose clear.
At the top of the stairs, just before the turnstile, she saw him.
Tall. Sharp. Walking with intention. Right toward her.
But with her game face on and a schedule to keep, she didn’t slow down — until his voice cut through the noise.
“I need help—”
She froze.
Her mind spun into its usual fast math: Help him? Keep moving? Hmm… he’s kinda cute…
She turned. Met his eyes.
Oh. He IS cute.
He repeated, “I need help finding an organic…”
Organic what? Store? Juice bar? Directions? Oh God, I’m terrible with directions…
“…growing smile.”
Wait—what?
Oh no, he didn’t. Oh but, he did!
Her mouth rebelled first. A corner twitched. Then lifted. First the smile, then came the laugh — full-bodied, gut-deep, unstoppable — bursting out amid the rhythm and rush of Grand Central.
He’d found what he was looking for.
When her laughter ebbed, she tilted her head, amused. “Good one. Organic.”
Turned out, he was selling something.
Of course he was.
Still — what a pitch, uh?!
She walked on, whispering, “You gotta give a brother credit.”
Late to her appointment. But with an organically grown smile.
First published 3 May 2021 Republished 2025 All Rights Reserved
There are the 5 love languages, then there’s Jamaican food—the 6th love language!
I’ve been to Ocho Rios many times, but somehow, I had missed this gastronomic gem—and trust me, you don’t want to make the same mistake.
Whether you’re planning your next trip to Jamaica or you’re lucky enough to live on this island paradise, Miss T’s Kitchen deserves a spot at the top of your must-visit list.
With one long-time and one new-found friend, we drove in from Montego Bay, winding our way along Jamaica’s north coast. The road was mostly single-lane, curving through lush greenery and glimpses of the Caribbean Sea.
Ocho Rios is probably best known for Dunn’s River Falls, one of the wonders of Jamaica and one of the very few travertine waterfalls in the world that empties directly into the sea.
Ocho Rios is a vibrant town in St. Ann Parish, often called the “Garden Parish” of Jamaica. Now I know that it’s not only home to iconic attractions, but also this hidden culinary treasure—Miss T’s.
Tucked into a tropical courtyard just off the bustling streets of Ocho Rios, Miss T’s Kitchen welcomes you in a warm gastronomic embrace.
The restaurant’s eclectic, vibrant interior is a joyful explosion of color, culture, and character—mismatched chairs, painted tables, and murals that each tell a story of island life. Even the toilets—Miss Jane and Mas Joe—were brought into the artistic cultural expression complete with a dutchie for the face basin!
Miss T’s Kitchen is where love is the main ingredient.
The most endearing theme woven throughout the space is love. Love for food. Love for heritage. Love for community. Love in every nook and cranny of its decor—from the handwritten quotes on the wall to the lush plants hugging each corner, Miss T’s feels less like a restaurant and more like a home.
And then there’s the food!
There are meals you eat, and then there are meals you experience.
Let’s talk about the oxtail.
It was presented (not just served) in a miniature dutch pot (dutchie), tucked into a traditional coal stove, instantly transporting me back to the days when my mom cooked over one just like it. Instantly the meal turned into a nostalgic nod to home, to heritage, and the soulful simplicity of island life.
This dish alone is worth the journey—tender, slow-cooked, and seasoned with a depth of flavor that speaks to generations of culinary wisdom. It was testimony to the award hanging on the wall.
But Miss T’s doesn’t stop at oxtail. Every dish we ordered—whether, curry goat or salmon—was comfort food on a whole new level.
Locally sourced ingredients, and locally made dinnerware, and a focus on authentic preparation made the experience vibrant celebration of Jamaican flavors, art and culture. Each plate was garnished with a piece of leaf from the banana tree a nod to its versatility and intricate role in Jamaican cuisine. Even the drinks and desserts carry that same thoughtful, soulful touch. Of course I bypassed the long list of drinks offers for coconut water straight from the shell.
The best meals are shared, and I was lucky to enjoy this one with friends—one of whom was also celebrating his birthday.
Dinner at Miss T’s Kitchen was more than a stop on my itinerary—it was a reminder.
A reminder that the journey matters.
That simple spaces can hold profound beauty.
That when love is the foundation—whether in food, friendship, or life—it always leaves a lasting impression.
So if you ever find yourself on Jamaica’s north coast, make the drive to Ocho Rios. Follow the scent of seasoning, the sound of laughter, and the feeling of home. At Miss T’s, you’ll find them all in one place.
The zero-sum game in love is always lose-lose, never win-win. 100% or nothing.
Love measured in fractions isn’t love at all because —
Love demands presence, not pretense; commitment, not calculation.
When one must lose for the other to win, both hearts bear the cost.
True love, like true success, multiplies rather than divides, expands rather than contracts.
The moment love becomes a competition, it ceases to be love and becomes a transaction—one where everyone walks away empty-handed/hearted.
The same is true in life—the zero-sum game in life is always lose-lose, never win-win. 100% or nothing.
Progress in life, built on someone else’s loss is not progress at all because—
True advancement uplifts rather than undermines.
When one person’s success comes at the expense of another’s dignity, opportunity, or well-being, it is not progress—it is exploitation disguised as achievement.
This is the fallacy that fuels resistance to gender equality: the mistaken belief that when women gain, men must lose.
But gender equality is not a competition—it’s a collective advancement.
A world where women thrive is a world where everyone benefits.
Stronger economies, healthier families, more just societies—these are not prizes won at someone’s expense but shared victories that uplift us all.
True equality doesn’t divide; it multiplies.
The only real win is one we build together.
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Like Martin Luther King: “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear”.
His words are oh so relevant in these times:
“I’m concerned about a better World. I’m concerned about justice; I’m concerned about brotherhood and sisterhood; I’m concerned about truth. And when one is concerned about that, he can never advocate violence. For through violence you may murder a murderer, but you can’t murder murder. Through violence you may murder a liar, but you can’t establish truth. Through violence you may murder a hater, but you can’t murder hate through violence. Darkness cannot put out darkness; only light can do that”.
Taken from MLK Jnr., “Where Do We Go From Here” speech.
Remember the Star Trek intro: “Space: the final frontier…. To boldly go where no man has gone before!”?
With the explosion of the fourth industrial revolution and advances in technology, space is no longer the final frontier, it has been explored and so has the depth of the oceans and the core of the earth.
The Pervasive Nature of Technology
Technology has become extraordinarily invasive. It permeates every sphere and facet of our lives. Unless you make a concerted effort to live ‘off the grid’, you leave a digital footprint just about every minute of the day. And now with AI and generative AI, the intrusion is even more intense.
That got me thinking about what of myself I can keep private, protected from scrutiny and judgment.
It’s not my words for once I’ve spoken/written them they are in the public domain and therefore at the whim of others’ opinions, thoughts and feelings to be scrutinized, dissected and even misconstrued.
It’s not my sense of style either because once I step out into the public domain, my style, my fashion choices (or lack thereof🙃), my hair, even my makeup are all open to be criticized or affirmed.
But my thoughts—the ideas or opinions produced in my mind—those are safe as long as they remain protected.
My mind, the protector and incubator of my thought, is its safest place.
Thoughts should be allowed to germinate, to come to maturity before they are birthed into words. For once they are expressed, they are no longer solely mine.
Thoughts Are Powerful
Everything that constitute the universe started with thought. From the beginning, where there was void and nothing had form and darkness abounded, God thought.
God thought: I’m going to make Me a universe—space, time, matter and energy, the cosmos, galaxies, planets, and stars arranged in constellations. And everything God thought of that was to make up the universe, once He spoke them, they existed.
In other words, God spoke what He thought, and what He thought is what it became.
As an example—before there was light in the physical realm, light was undefined. It was a thought incubated in the womb of God’s mind of what it would be and how it would function. When the thought matured and was ready to be birthed for its intended purpose, God spoke:
“Let there be light and there was light” (Genesis 1:3).
And what He thought light to be, that’s what light became. Traveling at 186,000 miles per second, light separated the darkness.
As it is with God’s thoughts, so it is with ours.
Our thoughts are also powerful enough to create.
For, it is what we think in our minds that we become in our lives.
The mind is the breeding ground for our consciousness, perception, imagination, intelligence, judgment, emotion, instinct and thinking.
Because our thoughts become a reflection of who we really are, why then would we not allow our thoughts to ‘hang out’ with these other faculties of the mind and germinate before they are released?!
Imagine a thought saturated and infused with imagination, judgement, emotions and instinct and only then is it given wings on words to soar.
Would there be less conflict, less war, more love? I think so.
When contemplated in this way, I surmised that thoughts in their purest form—devoid of technological intrusion—are the final frontier of our personhood. That, if allowed to germinate fully/complete/whole would serve us well at the individual, familial, community, societal, national, regional, and global levels.
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In an era where we have access to more knowledge than ever before, why do we find ourselves so short on true understanding? The answer lies in the lost art of listening.
The Importance of Listening
Amidst the overwhelming noise of information, the essence of true understanding is often overlooked. Listening is becoming a lost art, yet it is the key to comprehension. The discerning ear of wisdom can gather understanding beyond the mere accumulation of facts and data.
Why Listening Matters More Than Ever
If we would but listen more and listen better, there’d be no violence in our homes, there’d be no violence in our societies, there’d be no wars.
The ability to listen, absorb, and distill the essence from the relentless stream of knowledge is the hallmark of a wise mind.
Wisdom in the Words of Legends
Jimi Hendricks said it best — knowledge speaks, but it is indeed wisdom that listens.
However, “knowledge isn’t free, you have to pay attention.” (Richard P. Feynman)
Conclusion: Embrace the Art of Listening
In today’s fast-paced world, let’s not lose sight of the importance of listening. By embracing the art of listening, we can foster understanding, reduce conflict, and build a more peaceful society.
Let’s pay attention, for it is in listening that we truly learn and grow.
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Step into the heartwarming world of my Jamaican childhood, where Sundays meant simple joys, sumptuous feasts, and the sweet allure of “Fudgie” and his magical ice cream.
As a child growing up in my beautiful homeland, Jamaica, one of the cherished highlights of my week was indulging in the sweet delight of ice cream on Sundays.
In those bygone days, life was uncomplicated, and our Sunday rituals were set in stone. The day would kick off with my mother’s early-morning culinary expedition, as fragrant spices swirled on the gentle morning breezes, teasing our senses with the promise of a delightful feast ahead.
After a hearty breakfast, it was time to tackle the obligatory household chores — everything from tidying up the house, sweeping the yard, and laboriously hand-washing laundry. However, one task I dreaded above all was when my mother had to wash my hair. My thick, coiled locks had a knack for coiling even tighter when wet, and the process of combing through them left me grimacing all the way through. But when mommy was through, my hair was neatly plaited and ready for the school week ahead.
Once all the chores were behind us and I had been bathed and dressed in my “Sunday clothes,” it was time to gather around the table for what we Jamaicans refer to as “Sunday dinner.”
“Sunday dinner” was no ordinary meal; it was the pinnacle of the week in every Jamaican household.
The traditional spread included a principal meat (typically chicken as the crowd favorite); a carbohydrate staple (rice and peas being an absolute must); a salad comprising crisp cabbage and grated carrots, adorned with cucumber and tomato wedges, drizzled with black pepper; a refreshing beverage (often freshly squeezed from carrots, soursop, or beets); and, last but certainly not least, dessert.
And oh, the dessert!
While savoring the flavors of our sumptuous meal, my ears were tuned to a singular sound and an unmistakable voice – the distant chime of the “ice cream man’s” motorbike horn. This unique sound carried for miles across our tranquil town, giving us just enough time to secure the coins from our parents and gather at our designated meeting spot.
Then came the voice, a melodic, resounding and repeated call: “Fudge! Ice cream! Nutty-buddy!”
This was the unmistakable voice of the “ice cream man,” affectionately known as “Fudgie,” pedaling his bike, vocally advertising the frozen treasures nestled within the insulated box on the back of his two-wheeler.
Fudge was essentially ice cream on a stick, while nutty-buddy was a delightful ice cream cone adorned with a generous sprinkling of nuts, and ice cream, usually grape nut, piled atop the iconic beacon cone.
By this point, my friends had also gathered their coins, dashing over from their homes across the neighborhood, all of us adorned in our Sunday clothes – the girls with meticulously plaited hair and the boys making sure they were equally well-groomed. We would encircle Fudgie, simultaneously clamoring for our chosen treats.
To this day, ice cream holds a special place in my heart as my all-time favorite dessert. Why? Because it transports me back to an era when life was uncomplicated, Sundays were enchanting, and I’m eternally nostalgic for the home that lives on vividly in my heart, just as it was when I was a child growing up in Jamaica.
Question: How does one identify someone who is a Christian or Christ-like?
Answer: By their “fruit”/action.
Yes, just as you can identify a tree by its fruit, so you can identify people by their actions.
Saint Matthew 7:20, New Living Translation
A Christian is one whose life is governed by the Spirit of God.
In Galatians 5:22-23, the Bible talks about the “fruit of the Spirit,” which is inclusive of: love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, faith, meekness, and self-control. Think of this “fruit” like an orange—it’s one fruit with many different parts.
Just like the pegs on an orange aren’t all the same size, our character traits, or “pegs,” can also vary.
As a believer in God, I’m given the “fruit” of the Holy Spirit to shape my character, but sometimes certain traits might be smaller. I might struggle with impatience, lack of self-control, or unkindness. However, I’m still a child of God—a Christian.
What this means is that I need help to strengthen these smaller “pegs.” I can’t do it alone; I need the Divine Gardner, God, to build me up. He reminds me that becoming more like Him is a daily journey, and it requires complete dependence on Him.
Yes, there will be times when I stumble, but God acknowledges this too. He says that a righteous person may fall seven times, but the key is that they rise again (Proverbs 24:16).
God is always there to pick us up and help us strengthen the underdeveloped traits of our character, just like a caring gardener tending to a tree.
Shabbat Shalom! May you find peace in knowing that falling short does not mean you’re no longer a child of God, it means He’s still working on your character to be like His. The Christian journey is a process, one that is guided by the Word of God as laid out in the Bible.
Roosters in their morning race Proclaim the break of day Competing to be the loudest In their crowing display
Birdies join this joyful chorus Chirping to a serene ballet Nature’s melody makers In morning’s light they sway
The wind, a gentle maestro Enters with a soothing cool embrace Filling the room with freshness Embraced in a gentle swirling grace
Grey clouds hold the sun at bay Only for just a moment long But it soon emerged, bright As night gives way to day’s song
“It’s DAWN”, all of nature sings The world awakens in a magical array With nature’s symphony and sunbeams Morning ushers in a brand new day
Afterword: I wrote this piece a few years ago. I was working/living in Northern Nigeria at the time and there was immense unrest and upheaval. Amidst all of that, the joys of nature were all the more appreciated. What a blessing to open your eyes from a night’s rest, to know you’re alive and be able to bask in the joy of nature’s wake up call. Finding GRATITUDE in each moment of LIFE!
It is with heavy hearts that we mourn the passing of Peace, a cherished companion of humanity for countless generations.
Peace, born in the hopes and dreams of every individual, breathed its last breath on a world that yearned for its eternal presence.
Peace was known for its gentle touch, its ability to unite nations, its power to mend broken hearts, its inability to impose. It honored choice. It provided solace in times of turmoil, offering a refuge from the storms of discord. Throughout history, Peace stood as a beacon of hope, guiding us toward a brighter future.
However, in recent years, Peace had been under duress, with conflict and division threatening its very existence. The forces of discord, prejudice, injustice, and inequality cast shadows that dimmed its light, making it increasingly elusive.
Though Peace may no longer grace our world as we once knew it, we must remember that its spirit lives on within us.
It is up to each of us to honor its memory by working tirelessly to resurrect it from the ashes of strife. We must strive to bridge divides; promote understanding, tolerance, acceptance, inclusion; honor diversity, difference, equity; and sow seeds of unity not discord.
In the memory of Peace, let us pledge to be the architects of a world where its presence is not a fleeting dream but a lasting reality. Only through our collective efforts can we ensure that Peace’s legacy endures and thrives in the hearts of future generations.
Rest in peace, Peace, for you shall forever inspire our pursuit of harmony and tranquility.
Transformation—a thorough or dramatic change in form or appearance.
One of the most difficult things to transform is the way we think and especially what we think of ourselves. Coming to this realization is the moment I understood self-transformation to be self–sacrificing in that it’s totally dependent on my choice to surrender any form of myself that stands in the way of my transformation.
Self-transformation is hard work that requires a reset of the mind and a regulation of self-speaking language. And, even as we’re growing in this transformation, old labels will stick around. There are times we’ll straddle the fence of who we are transforming to be and the “who” that was. Unintentionally we’ll hold on to the labels.
Many of us have incorrectly taken on labels as our names. Maybe we have been labeled “loser” or “dropout” or a “nobody.” Maybe we’ve labeled ourselves “unattractive” or “overweight.” However, when we adhere to a selfish-determination of transformation, this will silence every voice that aims to divert us from living out of something new.
Embracing this process requires a determined surrender to completely die to any form of you that would prevent you from transforming to the woman or man you’re becoming.
And I will add unto thy days fifteen years; and I will deliver thee and this city out of the hand of the king of Assyria; and I will defend this city for mine own sake, and for my servant David’s sake.
This verse pertains to Hezekiah. Hezekiah was a king over ancient Israel. He was king David’s great-great- great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandson.
By the time Hezekiah assumed the throne as king, 13 kings had already reigned for a period of 294 years. In other words, David was dead for almost 300 years. However, when Hezekiah was sick unto death and the Assyrian army was about to invade his kingdom, he prayed to God for good health and deliverance. God responded by adding 15 additional healthy years to Hezekiah and gave him victory over the invading forces. [This whole saga can be read in the Bible, in the 20th chapter of the book of 2nd Kings.]
What resonated with me when I read this was God’s emphasis that He acted not only for His sake, BUT for David’s sake as well.
You may recall, I wrote a bit about David in a previous post and how God testified of David that his heart was like God’s heart. Yes, David had a special relationship with God. But this story goes beyond that to show that God not only treasures relationships, but that He recalls them and will even extend the benefits of those relationships to descendants for years to come.
So when I read the text that started this post I was absolutely fascinated! You may not see immediately why, so let me paint a picture of how my imagination envisioned what transpired when I read this text.
Go with me on your mind’s eye:
The prophet had just delivered the news to Hezekiah that he was about to die and departed from the bedroom of the King.
Hezekiah immediately falls prostrate at his bedside beseeching God for healing and deliverance. His prayer is one of billions ascending to the throne of God, but when Hezekiah’s prayer reached God’s ears it immediately triggered the memory of God who recalled David.
God recalled a man whose heart resembled His; a man who worshipped Him with such reckless abandon and intensity that there was leftover worship, praise, love and adoration stored up in heaven.
And immediately God pulled down on David’s blessings stored up for almost 300 years and credited it to his offspring removed by 12 generations!
How do I know it was immediate? Because so instant was the response, it came between the time the prophet left Hezekiah and reached the courtyard. God instructed him to return to Hezekiah with the counter message of good health and deliverance.
This ability to call down credit from blessings stored up in heaven by an ancestor is not just Bible-relevant.
Have you ever felt like you’re blessed in ways you don’t deserve, partly ‘cause you didn’t pray for it or request it but it seemed to land on you in just the right way at just the right time?! It happens so seamlessly that unless you’re cognizant of being in a state of gratitude, you may just miss it and instead chalk it up to ‘just life’.
For me, Hezekiah’s experience mirrors my mom and me. You see, long before I knew how to pray I had a prayer-warrior interceding on my behalf, storing up blessings in heavenly places that when needed God could redeem by claiming: “for the sake of Agnes, my servant”.
I never take it for granted when my mom says: “I’m praying for you” or “I pray for you every day” because I know—as confirmed by the Bible—God can move on my behalf based on the stored up prayers my mom deposited on my behalf. And not only my mom because I come from a lineage of people who love God and I believe the blessings they have stored up have been sustained over generations. For in the same way there are generational curses and traumas, there are generational blessings.
Shabbat Shalom! Don’t forget to remember—God doesn’t forget. And He’ll bestow blessings on you that’s been stored up at the request of others on your behalf.
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God initiated it! Shabbat Shalom: It’s Worship Time!
God initiated the Sabbath and He also initiated worship!
Sabbath is for rest and it’s also for worship. And worship takes place wherever, whenever and how-ever like while:
Watching the sun go down, but not before it colors the clouds an autumn orange and the river a golden glimmering tint.
Standing on the bank of the river transfixed, in awe of all creation bustling around me.
Hearing geese honking, hissing and cackling as they waddle up and down the shore, till they fly off to their resting place for the night. Or,
Seeing a father and son skipping stones on the river; and a small child running around his mom as the cutest little Pomeranian chases him, tugging excitedly against the restraint of his leash.
In these moments while I’m standing by the river experiencing life around me by observing laughter, familial chatter and play, and expressions of love it all directs my heart to God. In essence, God revealed Himself—and I worshipped.
The word “worship” itself is not in the Bible but there’s evidence of worship from Genesis through to Revelation. How do we know this? By knowing how worship is defined and seeking reference to that definition in the Bible.
Worship comes from two Old English words: weorth, which means “worth,” and scipe or ship, which means something like shape or quality such as the -ship in friendship that denotes the quality of being a friend. Worth-ship then is the quality of having worth or of being worthy.
On the banks of the river as I ascribed and attributed all that I observed to God and in saying/in knowing that God is worthy—in that moment, I worshipped. Or as the Bible puts it—I praised God.
Worship that expresses the heart
I didn’t speak. I didn’t lift my hands. I didn’t bow, prostrate myself or even close my eyes for there is a worship that expresses the heart.
There is also a worship that involves the mind. And a worship that involves the body. There is a worship that is giving praise upward. And a worship that is receiving instructions from above. And there a worship that carries out instructions in the world around us. And above all, God initiates it!
So, God initiates worship and He does this by first revealing Himself.
Let’s think about it. God is beyond our scope of understanding. So how can we know His worth much less declare it, unless He reveals Himself to us?!
It’s when I see God revealed in His awe-inspiring-make-everything-from-nothing GREATNESS, His all-might-almighty-to-save POWER, His don’t-want-anything-in-return-kind-o’ LOVE, His flawless-perfect CHARACTER—then, and only then, do I begin to understand His worthiness.
This stands to reason then that the better I know what God declares about Himself is the better that I can declare His worth and the better I can truly worship.
Worship is therefore my response to God’s initiation in revealing Himself and I declare Him worthy—I worship—with and from my entire being—my heart, my mind, my soul, my strength—and with and in sincerity.
This is how Jesus explains it. He says:
… true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and His worshipers must worship in spirit and in truth.
John 4:23-24
In essence, what was Jesus was saying? The most essential attribute of worship is sincerity. The externals do not matter if the heart isn’t right. If our attitude is wrong then we can sing the right songs, quote the right scriptures, even hold our hands in just the right way but it would mean nothing to God. For if our heart isn’t in it, it isn’t really worship.
And so God reveals Himself first—for He always takes the first step—He’s the initiator-God. Then He goes seeking to find worshippers—those who respond to His revelation of Himself by declaring His worthiness.
There is so much to say about worship than just one post won’t do. So join me next week as we dive more into the wherever, whenever and how-ever of worship.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find the joy in knowing the God who ceaselessly reveals Himself to you, and may your response to His initiation of revelation be one of worship.
Did you know that there are only three recorded times in the Bible that God used His fingers to write?
Yes! Once when He wrote the Ten Commandments as standard of righteousness on two tablets of stone (Exodus 31:18). The second time was when He pronounced a message of judgment on King Belshazzar by writing on a wall (Daniel 5:5).
In both of these instances He wrote on concreted matter—stone and wall—signifying permanence.
The third time God wrote with His fingers is fascinating and quite intriguing to me and so it’s the focus of today’s Shabbat Shalom post.
Picture this—they were in the throes of lovemaking when community leaders broke into the privacy of the room. Astonished, they hastily separated their bodies from each other.
She was barely able to cover up her before they dragged her from the bed. As they pulled her from the room she grabbed her outerwear and clumsily covered her body. The last she saw of her lover, he was already dressed and melding into the crowd of angry men.
Hair unkempt. Clothing dangling untidily. Afraid to look up, she kept her head downcast, her eyes fixed on the sandaled-feet before her. Ears deafened by the angry mob.
This is one of the stories recorded in the Bible and referred to as the woman caught in the act of adultery (John 7:53-8:11). This story appears in only one of the four Gospels—the book of Saint John. Though there has been much debate about its authorship and its authenticity as part of the life story of Christ, I find it to be one of the best examples showing how grace and mercy coalesced with judgement and justice.
My intrigued with this story is first because it showed that Jesus was intolerant of ‘isms’ like male chauvinism and sexism. Being “caught in the act” implies that both the woman and the man were present. However, it was the woman alone who was brought before Jesus for condemnation even though the Law of Moses stipulated that both the man and the woman should be put to death (Leviticus 20:10).
The intent of these men therefore was not for true justice but rather to entrap Jesus—would He apply the law of Moses and called for her stoning and in so doing break the Roman law?
But, Jesus is such a smooth operator though. He doesn’t say one word out loud. Instead, He looks them knowingly in the eye, He stoops down to the ground and He began to speak with fingerprints in the sand.
Let’s hear the story through the woman’s voice as I captured it poetically:
The second thing that intrigued me about this story is the fact that Jesus wrote in the sand.
So, what is intriguing you may ask?
That, inscriptions in sand are not meant to be permanent.
This story outlines the beauty of salvation that not only will God show up in the messiness of our sins, but He’ll acknowledge them in sand—tiny particles that are easily scattered and dissipated. And just like when sand is scattered, so are our confessed sins removed and dispersed as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:12).
This story also reinforces that Jesus does not encourage sin, but that He’s equally and unequivocally clear in the depth of His love for sinners. This is why He first seeks to heal our hearts and the proclivities that drive us to sin, then He calls us to turn away from a life of sinning while He silences those who stand in judgement and condemnation.
Shabbat Shalom.
What accusers have you encountered? Who’ve marred your name or brought you shame? Who’ve dragged you before a disciplinary board? Expecting condemnation to settle the score? Can you see Jesus stooping, getting down to your level? Hear Him say: My child, go now, your sins are forgiven Then with rejoicing you too will say: No accusers Lord to see None left here but You and me
Today’s Shabbat Shalom post focuses on prayer and the rationale for prayer from my own experiences in praying.
The one thing most of us are taught as children is to pray. Who remembers:
Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.
And before too long we recited that prayer each night before bed. Or other similar ritual prayers at the appropriate time, like before we eat.
For health and strength and daily food we praise thy name, Oh Lord.
Is prayer then a ritual, an obligation or an activity?
The more I think on prayer and why I pray, the more I’ve come to realize that my prayers are really but fragments of my heart.
Like when I awake from sleeping, open my eyes and I realize I’m alive—the fragment of gratitude from my heart escapes upon my lips: “thank you Father for waking me up”.
With all there is to say to God—
the thanksgiving, the praising, the adoration, the questioning …
the joy, the sorrow, the loss, the longing, the hurting …
the wonderings and what-ifs, the near-misses and could-have-been …
—my prayers are unending conversations taking place with
eyes-wide-open, eyes-tightly-closed …
standing-up, kneeling-down …
hands clasped or held high …
—my prayers are filled with emotions seen in
tears of joy or tears of sadness …
unending smiles and abandoned laughter …
sometimes loud and sometimes soft …
sometimes no words at all just groans and tears …
—my prayers transpire while I’m
folding laundry …
washing dishes …
walking …
jogging …
So, prayer then is not an activity or an obligation nor is it a ritual—it’s a way of being.
In prayer I find:
Surrender. To let go off of whatever is burdening me and this is spiritually, emotionally, mentally and physically healing and restorative.
Gratitude. To be in a state of thankfulness.
Reflection. To see myself as if looking in a mirror. For when I go before God, there’s no need to hide any part of me for He sees me in my all-ness. In prayer I safely bare my soul.
Relationship is the greatest benefit of praying. In being in constant communication with God, He becomes as real to me as my best-forever-friend.
So prayers are fragments of what my heart feels in that moment and I share it with my God.
There are things I’ve prayed for and the answers I want are not the ones I got and I’ve been hurt and disappointed. But after grappling with the “why” and the hurt and disappointment, I remember that I serve a God who loves and cares for me explicitly and that the objective of my prayer isn’t to change God. For as C.S. Lewis reminds us, prayer doesn’t change God. It changes me.
Shabbat Shalom. May the revelations of your heart be expressed in fragments of prayer.
It is no secret that I love poems. What is a poem? Is it words in painting, lyrics in songs, a medium for self-expression? Poem is far more than these. Poem is a “thing made”.
“Poem” comes from the Greek poíēma which means a “thing made”.
This begs the question: if poem is a thing made, what kind of thing is it?
The Bible has an answer!
God is the first poet! In the Bible, poíēma is used ONLY TWICE and both times in reference to the creative power of God.
First, when God created earth, referred to as “things that are made” in Romans 1:20. That phrase—“things that are made”—is translated from poíēma.
And second, in Ephesians 2:10 which speaks to the recreating of our hearts, referenced as “masterpiece”—and that word is also translated from poíēma.
So in essence, the thing made—poem—is God’s work of art both as Creator and Redeemer.I’d say poem is both the beginning of life—creation, and the re-creating of life—the redemption of humanity.
Going back to the initial question, if poem is a thing made, what kind of thing is it? The answer is in this poem:
From the source of spiritual cosmology Conceived in rhythmic movements Birthed through pulsing, pushing Punctuated by intermittent pain and joy Life Giving meaning to the ineffable Obscured in allusions Developed in plots Composed in stanzas Live In fragmented syntax of challenges and victories Linguistic coding lyrics of uninhibited joy with unimaginable sorrow Alliteration of life’s idioms of transformation Reciting poignant epigrams of wondrous elocution Live life In metres to know and be known Evolving through spiritual healing Resolutely declaimed: live in the everlasting now Climaxing in all that was created
Shabbat Shalom! God is the unparalleled Poet. And of all that He’s created, we are His workmanship, His masterpiece—we are His best poem.
I was helping my nephew with his assignment, when I saw a pensive expression that was far too intense to be just about his school work.“What’s up with that look?” I asked.
With deep sincerity he responded with his own question: “Why are you helping me?”
And he wasn’t satisfied with “… because you’re my nephew” or “… because I love you”.
No. He was searching for a deeper motivation. A motivation deeper than love?!
I hadn’t thought about the why. I just knew that I wanted to contribute to him being able to complete the assignment which I know would make him happy. But, when he forced me to give him a more deeply ruminative answer my contemplation led me to this realization—I was first and foremost grateful for the opportunity to help him succeed.
This is what I learned from being challenged by my nephew:
Not only can gratitude inspire happiness, it can also inspire the intention to contribute to the happiness of someone else.
Happy hump day!!! Let’s get over and into the rest of the week in gratitude.
Yes, I love David—the Psalmist, King of ancient Israel.
Yes, I love that David!
I grew to love David first because he was the “most real” person in the Bible to me—I could relate to him. Others messed up, but David’s life was the epitome of mess.
For example, David stole a man’s wife, Bathsheba. And more than that he had the man killed. This man, Uriah, was a loyal commanding soldier. After getting Uriah’s wife pregnant, David recalled Uriah from a war and tried to persuade him to sleep with his wife, Bathsheba, in order to secure a cover up. Not wanting to enjoy the pleasures of his wife while soldiers under his command were fighting on the battlefield, Uriah refused. So David gave Uriah a message to be delivered to the army general. The message was Uriah’s own death sentence—for him to be placed at the fiercest point of the battle—which Uriah himself unknowingly delivered. Now, that’s messed up!
But, the pattern of David’s life indicates that he learned lessons from his MESS. And from these MESSes he composed MESSages—most of them captured in the Book of Psalms in the Bible!
The second reason why I love David is because he was a connoisseur of words. In the composition of these messages in the Psalms, I admire the ways in which he creatively manipulated words to denote both their aesthetic and evocative meaning.
But above all that, my love for David stems from the reality that in spite of all the messes he got into, God could still testify that David was a man after his own heart (Acts 13:22).
And notice, God didn’t just say—speak, utter, articulate or express—it. God testified—He gave evidence, bore witness, swore, affirmed—it. Amazingly, God testified this not before David messed up, but after!
Why? To signify that having a heart like God’s heart does not mean a person will not make mistakes. Far from it. Rather, it’s about the way one responds when confronted with mistakes—that is, with humility and repentance.
For me, during my tumultuous-see-saw-like ways of journeying to know the heart of God and be in relationship with Him, I was very much encouraged by David.
Through David’s experiences I am reminded that God is not after perfection. He’s after my heart, and He’s always chasing after me. If He’s chasing, it means I’m running away from Him. In other words, I didn’t just come to God; I was drawn to Him by His everlasting love and loving kindness (Jeremiah 31:3). Yes, I submitted, but He first “drew me” into relationship with Him so my heart may, in time, look like His heart.
And what does such a heart look like?
It longs for the presence of God.
It desires an intimate fellowship with God.
It’s a heart that desires to know the ways of God and to walk in those ways.
It is willing to let go off of its own agenda/will for God’s good, pleasing and perfect will.
And, just like God testified of David, I now live in the anticipation of hearing God testify of me saying: “Dawn’s heart looks like My heart”. What a compliment!
Yeah, I wanna heart like God’s heart.
Shabbat Shalom. Maybe, like me, you’ve been on the run. The blessed assurance is that when you run, God chases. If you submit, God will abide and you’ll be changed. But it’s a change that you must want, it will not be forced upon you. God wants to testify of you, that you’re a man or a woman after His heart.
Maybe I’ve just aged myself Recalling this ad But when I saw Sammi’s weekend prompt word: Zest My thought went to the cheerfully zestful commercial Recalled in 41 words
There are moments that are described as “happenstances” and others as “coincidences”, but I prefer to see these moments as God moments.
God moments mark the times when the ordinary of our lives is interrupted and interjected with the extraordinary.
God moments are moments that cannot be explained, or they are so perfectly orchestrated they are truly too good to be of man and must therefore be of God.
God moments come at whatever times—like punctuation marks in our lives—to separate the earthly from the heavenly, the mundane from the remarkable, and redirecting our reading of circumstances.
Like a (.) period: forcing us to stop and acknowledge that the normalcy and routine of our lives have been interrupted by the supernatural. Or,
Like a (,) comma: causing us to pause in contemplative wonderment at what has just transpired. Other times,
Like an (!) exclamation: that aha moment when we’re awed into speechlessness or wonderment. And then there are those times it’s
Like a (?) question mark: compelling us to query the depth and height of God’s love, measured in the magnitude of our capacity to stray in the face of His resolute determination to chase. And finally, God moments are
Like a (—) dash: betwixt and between the last dollar and an empty cupboard; an unexpected phone call from someone who says “you were on my mind” breaking through a lonely moment; or the simultaneous pairing of the perfect song with the bewilderment of your heart at just the moment you turn on the radio.
God moments happen wherever.
They may be while we are taking a walk, driving on the busy thoroughfares, relaxing, or flying in the boundless skies.
Wherever or whenever God moments occur, one thing is for certain, we are caught off guard.
But no, not so for God. These moments are all part of His design. And, He smiles a smile so big it lights up the circumstances of our lives as it directs or redirects us, and He relishes our astonishment at His interspersing humanity with snippets of the Divine.
God Shabbat. Yes, God rested. He showed us rest before he “commanded” it. In His rest there is power to be aware, to actively hope and to shift perspective to a new way of living.
And, He goes on to explain that He wants for us to work throughout the remaining 6 days, like He did when He created us, humans, and all that we’ve come to enjoy in the natural world around, above and beneath us. And when we’re complete with the tasks of those 6 days, then to rest purposefully like He did (Exodus 20:8-11).
When His creation was complete, God Shabbat/rested. In fact, the exact quote is God “rested the seventh day” (Exodus 20:11).
Not that He rested on the day, but that He rested theday.
In that kind of rest, there is power!
His work was complete, He paused to enjoy the beauty of His handiwork and to commune with His creation. I imagine Him chatting up a storm with Adam and Eve, exploring the bounties of this newly created world, and enjoying fellowship.
And this is why I love the Sabbath.
First, because it reminds me in a tangible way that God is creator.
Second, because I enjoy the freedom in focusing primarily on God and all He does for me. And,
Thirdly, because on a weekly basis I can rest with purpose—to actively and purposefully choose to remember, to take an active stance to refocus so I may better see and appreciate what God is doing in my life that might not be visible at first glance; and to recenter my life.
Throughout the week I’m pressed with work and though I spend time with God it’s not as dedicated as it is on Sabbath. And then, there’s just something about Sabbath rest.
Sabbath rest is more than refraining from work. It’s giving myself permission to enter into a mindset of completeness, to rest the day.
As my mom always tells me when I’m up late at night trying to meet one deadline or the other, “work is never done”, she’d say. But, on Sabbath, in coming to a sense of completeness—accepting that I’ve done all I can do for those 6 days—I shift my focus.
This means my focus is not on my goals, work deadlines, housework etc. All these are given a less important position in my mind and frees me up to simply enjoy what’s around me. To shift my focus to God and spending time with Him. It’s our weekly Daddy-daughter date. And I love meting up with my Daddy!
Shabbat Shalom. May you find the power in sabbath rest—a shift in perspective to a new way of being.
There are two stories in the Bible that intersect with such poignancy—it’s as if they collided—on the one hand quite moving and on the other rather painful.
You may be familiar with this duology—the colliding of two lives where 12 intersects: a woman bleeding for 12 years and a child dying at 12 years.
This woman was bleeding for 12 years. We don’t know her name. In fact, she’s named in the Bible by her condition—“the woman with the issue of blood”. According to Mosaic Law, she was considered ceremonially unclean because of the incessant bleeding and therefore should not touch or be touched. This also meant that she was not able to worship at the Temple. [Leviticus 20:19-31]
This left her a social pariah of sorts—cast out from home and society, rejected, excluded, looked down upon, ignored—she hadn’t been touched in over 4,380 days. She didn’t belong. There was no one seeking help for her. Desperate to be brought back into the normalcy of society, she took matters into her own hands, spent all of her resources on physicians, but none could help her.
By the time Jesus showed up in her story her back was up against the proverbial wall. She was desperate. But she was courageous. It’s now or never. It’s faith or fear. It’s live or die for in Judaism, menstrual blood was seen as life lost, akin to death.
***
Over time snippets of news came her way—she heard about the miracles of Jesus. She heard He was in town. She had a made-up mind and a strong-determined faith that if she could but touch the hem His garment—not Him, but His garment, not just His garment, but the hem—she’d be made whole.
But why the hem of His garment? Why so specific and intentional? What did this woman know?
Most scholars agree that the “hem” or “fringe” of His garment refers to the tzitzit or tassels worn by observant Jews. The tzitzit are specially knotted ritual fringes attached to the four corners of the tallit (prayer shawl) and tallit katan (everyday undergarment). The four fringes were designed to help Israel remember their covenants with God.
And that’s what she knew. If she could but touch the tzitzit she would connect to the covenant of God to His people. She would connect to heaven. So strong was this conviction that when she touched the tzitzit, power so intense left the body of Jesus, disrupted heaven, released instantaneous healing, jolted Jesus to a halt and from His mouth the words exclaimed: “Who touched my tzitzit!?”
***
When she showed up in Jesus’ story, He was on His way to see about a 12 year old girl who was very sick to the point of death. We don’t know her name either. The Bible named her by her belonging—she was Jairus’ daughter. Her father was wealthy and renown in society. She was still under the authority of her father. She had someone advocating and seeking help for her.
Being an only-child (of sorts) Himself, and also face-to-face with His own impending death, I believe this made Jesus even more resolute in His commitment to help the child.
But, when power left His body, everything stopped!
He stopped moving.
The crowd stopped pressing.
Blood stopped flowing.
And, in the time He sought to identify the one who touched Him with such heaven-released-power faith, life stops flowing—Jairus’ daughter dies.
***
In the stillness of the moment, a woman disentangles herself from the crowd to own the touch.
You see, in times past Jesus initiated touch and people were healed. However, in this case she touched.
She reversed the transmittal of power, she took it!
Servants of Jairus disrupted the silence with a pronouncement on the other daughter—she is now dead!
For 12 years this woman was losing her life-source. Her faith-action caused Jesus to stop, and in so doing the life of a 12-year-old girl ebbed away.
Life met death.
The twelve-years-life/twelve-years-death anomaly played over and over in my mind until I caught a glimpse of what God’s heart was communicating to mine. It was in this one word:
daughter.
Daughter. Be still my heart. For I imagine Jesus looking her square in the eyes—something no one has done for 12 years, and certainly not her own father—and He calls her “daughter”! He gives her belonging.
This was the ONLY time recorded in all of scripture where Jesus bestowed this endearing term—daughter—on any woman.
Her touch healed her body but His PDA (public display of affection) healed her heart. Restored completely. Made whole.
Going back to Jairus’ daughter, when Jesus eventually showed up in the little girl’s story, He also restored her life.
This is the tale of two daughters restored, it’s fitting on the eve of Mother’s Day.
One daughter had an advocate-father fighting for her life. One daughter had a redeeming-Father reclaiming her life. But both daughters had a healing-Father who saved their lives and made them whole physically and emotionally.
Shabbat Shalom. Today, on the eve of Mother’s Day, I speak to women. My sisters, know this:
Though in many ways society seeks to devalue us because we are women, God is the defender of the downtrodden, the outcasts, the misfits. He’s advocate for the voiceless. He brings life to dead things and dead promises. He restores.
His delay is not His denial or indifference to the issues we face; nor is His silence neglect. He is biding His time, patiently waiting for just the right moment to intercede. His time is not always our time—in fact it may never be our time—and while He tarries, the promise may die. But that moment of ‘dead promise’ will give God a picture-perfect platform upon which to interject most efficaciously and restore you to the beloved and elevated place of daughter.
Before-word: To celebrate my birthMONTH I declared an affirmation for each day. At the end of the month I conclude with the affirmation to self-love, because you must first love yourself in order to love anyone else. This emanates from the ultimate love—the love of and for God.
This was the April I affirm to love
To let go of expectations of how things should go
To release criticism and judgment
To accept me, totally, as I am
To hold, not to control, but with space to receive
In my native dialect (patois) we say: “wha a fe yuh, cahn be un-fe yuh” (literally—what is for you, can’t be not for you).
Today I affirm to trust the Most High and to wait on His leading.
I will:
Let closed doors stay closed (like toxic relationships).
Find the blessings in the closures.
Live fearlessly knowing when one door closes it leaves open the path to the right door.
Be preparedto seize opportunities when the right doors open.
What the Most High intends to bless me with, I will receive it because not only does He shut doors, He opens doors too! And what He opens no one can shut, what He shuts no one can open.
When the Most High God created us, He gave us a most powerful and beautiful gift—choice!
The power and beauty of choice is that it’s predicated on there being more than one option or possibility; and, the path taken will over time make me ME.
I affirm today to live by the knowledge that when based on my hopes and not my fears, my choices will create room for me. Room for exploration, growth, learning and overall self-development.
Photo provided by Pexels
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To have the ME that isn’t defined by the hurts or losses of my past, means I must let go off of “stuff” mentally and emotionally. I know letting go doesn’t mean “getting rid of”, but “letting it be”.
Truth is,I can’t receive the now when I hold on to the old.
Letting go is the first step to being prepared for the NEXT God has in store.
Me with all my weaknesses, quirks and flaws, all my strengths, uniqueness and flawsomeness is my authentic self. When I’m unfaithful to the authentic me, that’s me betraying myself.
Like:
Saying something unkind to myself—even using words I’d never use to someone else.
Being unkind or unloving to myself, not extending to myself the grace and compassion I’ve extended to others?
Or not giving myself credit for what I’m good at?
So, today I affirm to completely die to any form of me that would prevent me from transforming to the woman I’m becoming.
The times I’ve compromised have mostly been to avoid conflict.
I find that going along to get along, or to be liked, is the worse kind of compromise.
Why?
Because it means you’ve given up something that you value to please someone else.
In those times I’ve felt discontented and disconnected from my heart/my voice. The more you do this you become demoralized because you lose more of you. And, those you compromise your heart/your voice for, will over time devalue you.
Today I affirm to stand up and speak up for what my heart knows to be truth because I find that:
I’m a healthier, happier me when I speak and live what’s in my heart boldly and fiercely with kindness.
Why do I celebrate my birthday or do something meaningful to mark the day?
It’s for one reason only:
My birthday is a reminder of the moment in time that God designated as “mine”.
I was born with a purpose-tag on me, and every day I’m afforded life it’s a reminder that my purpose-tag is still valid—there is more for me to do.
That’s also the same for you: you are purposed.
For me, celebrating or marking the day is not about the gifts or the good wishes; it’s more like a life check-in. First as a way to tangibly express appreciation for life; and, second as a reaffirmation of my purpose.
So, I receive the sentiments behind birthday gifts or good wishes as an attestation that I made a difference or somehow positively impacted the lives of the people around me. If I have, then it’s partly a confirmation that I’m living my purpose and that’s worthy of marking that my life matters to God and to those around me.
That’s also the same for you, your life matters. Live IN your purpose.
RESOLUTE—to be admirably purposeful, determined, unwavering
It takes courage to be YOUnique—your unique authentic self—to be resolute in who you are at the core, to “do you” when everything else and everyone else around you screams at you to fit in a mold/in the status quo/in what is expected.
When situations and people don’t align with who you are or where you’re going, STAND—be firm—in your truth and live accordingly. What will follow is the peace and freedom that comes from living and loving your unique you.
Today, my birthday, I affirm to stand in my truth!
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Life is a journey, and we each have our unique way to move through it. But, no matter how different our journeys will be, we all will end life in the same way. Different journeys, similar destination.
The state you’ll be in when you arrive at the destination is based on the choices you make with each step along the way.
Life’s journey comes in SEASONS—some days you’ll experience summer-like joys and winter-like sadness; and other days are spring- and fall-like—changing at such a pace you feel you can’t get a handle on life.
I live in the assurance that each life season has a purpose. I trust the process. I trust the journey.
And, LIVE life—not just survive, but live/thrive—so when death finds you, it finds you alive!
[African proverb: “when death finds you, may it find you alive.”]
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Basing your happiness on anyone besides yourself is giving people way too much power over your life. Period!
Happiness is subjective, stimulated from within. It won’t be achieved based on acquiring things but the extent to which you’re satisfied with and grateful for what you have and use it to the benefit of others.
This means happiness can be cultivated. What is does not mean is that all is well in your world and the world around you, but it’s how you choose to react.
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We all have scars. Whether visible—from physical wounds, or invisible—from soul wounds. Scars are the evidence and reminder of a wounding or a traumatic experience.
But, no experience is wasted. “Everything in life is happening to grow you up, to fill you up, to help you become more of who you were created to be” (so says Oprah).
The Bible gives a more profound application of this principle through a scar-to-beauty-mark transformational exchange. It’s possible to trade in the ashes of wounds and traumas for beauty; and mourning for joy; and sadness for thanksgiving. If you did, it would be as gaining double the beauty, double the joy and double the graciousness for your scars (so says Isaiah 63).
In this way, you’d transform the experiences that scarred you into something beautifully purposed—beauty marks.
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With one word—persevere—US Supreme Court Nominee Ketanji Brown Jackson preached a sermon and let lose a rallying call.
In that one moment her daughter looks on in admiration and confirmation that her mom is not only the epitome of perseverance but that she has her mom to emulate as she too will need to persevere.
On the other hand is her husband, and he is in tears. He’s listened and watched his wife being battered and grilled relentlessly. Despite having more judicial experience than 43 of the last 58 the US justices who took the bench, some members of the Congress could not forgo racist throes, ludicrous questioning and misogynoir.
Many many moments of the confirmation hearing stood out for me. But, when asked what she’d say to young people, her response: “I would tell them persevere”, really resonated with me!
And she’s demonstrated perseverance throughout her studies, her career, her life, and surely drew on it during her Supreme Court Nomination Hearing.
At this mid-week point of the week, let’s join the rallying call to PERSEVERE!!!!
That man over there say a woman needs to be helped into carriages and lifted over ditches and to have the best place everywhere. Nobody ever helped me into carriages or over mud puddle or gives me a best place…
And ain’t I a woman?
Look at me Look at my arm! I have plowed and planted and gathered into barns and no man could head me…
And ain’t I a woman?
I could work as much and eat as much as a man— when I could get to it— and bear the lash as well…
And ain’t I a woman?
I have born 13 children and seen most all sold into slavery and when I cried out a mother’s grief none but Jesus heard me…
And ain’t I a woman?
That little man in black there say a woman can’t have as much rights as a man cause Christ wasn’t a woman Where did your Christ come from? From God and a woman! Man had nothing to do with him!
If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down, all alone together women ought to be able to turn it rightside up again
“I sell the shadow to support the substance.” — Sojourner Truth. Carte de Visite, circa 1864, in the collections of the Library of Congress (http://www.loc.gov/pictures/item/97513239/)
After-word: Sadje asks, what makes me feel stronger?! Answer—the strength of trailblazer women who’ve navigated the path to make my sojourn through this world a bit easier. This speech (put in poetic form above) was part of my introduction to women’s study in university and it left an indelible mark on me and influenced my career choice. I now work to defend women’s rights and advance gender equality. It’s only fitting then that Sojourner’s speech is my first post in tribute to Women’s History Month and also for Sadje’s Sunday Poser #70.
Sojourner Truth (name she chose instead of the slave name Isabella Baumfree), born into slavery in 1797, delivered this speech at the Women’s Rights Convention (Old Stone Church in Akron, Ohio.) Version of Speech as printed in Anti-Slavery Bugle, June 21 1851.
It was adapted to the poetic format above by Erelene Stetson from copy of the speech found in Sojourner, God’s Faithful Pilgrim by Arthur Huff Fauset, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1938).
Shabbat Shalom. And now, after last week’s break, we are back to the 6th of the 7 redemptive names of God—Jehovah Raah.
This name of God is derived from what may be one of the best- and most-known lines in the Bible—the Lord is my Shepherd—penned by David in the 23rd Psalm.
Raah comes from the Hebraic word , Rô’eh which is translated “shepherd”. The translation can be extended to mean “friend” or “companion” from the word, “rea”. This is indicative of the intimacy God desires between Himself and His people.
In reading this Psalm I experienced a aha moment when I came face-to-face with the realization that whatever I believe God is, then I must believe in myself relative to the extent of that attribute. For instance, if I say He is my “Shepherd”; then, I must be assured that I am His “sheep” and to live in that assurance.
I was curious as to why David wrote this Psalm. The obvious reason is that David tended sheep so it makes good sense for him to use the analogy of sheep and shepherd. However, in researching the characteristics of a sheep, I saw clearly why this inspired David’s 23rd Psalm and also why God likened humanity to sheep (Isaiah 53:6).
In all that I learned about sheep, the most intriguing finding was this—a sheep can get stuck on its back. The term for this is “cast”. When this happens the sheep cannot right itself and could starve to death or become easy prey if not righted again. It’s no wonder sheep are so dependent on the shepherd.
Have you ever been “cast” down, in a rut or at a loss at wit’s-end crossroads and there is nothing you can do to right yourself?
I have. And, it was in one of these moments when God invited me to act on my faith in believing He is my Shepherd and as such to live in the assurance that I am His “sheep”.
It is in seeing myself as a “cast sheep” and being confident in the assurance that God is my “Shepherd”, and that He has the ability to right me that “A Sheep’s Look at the Shepherd’s Psalm” was conceptualized.
See you next week as we conclude this series, “What In God’s Name” with a look at the 7th redemptive names of God—Jehovah Shammah—the God who is There/Here.
We’re now at the midway point of this journey through the 7 redemptive names of God with Jehovah Tsidkenu.
The backstory of this name is different from the three we looked at previously. It’s ushered into the biblical narrative at a time when the children of ancient Israel were again in captivity and the promise of redemption came through a prophecy given to Jeremiah. And therein lies the name.
Behold, the days come, saith the LORD, that I will raise unto David a righteous Branch, and a King shall reign and prosper … and this is his name whereby he shall be called, the Lord Our Righteousness.
Jeremiah 23:5-6
Let’s start by considering the Hebraic root from which Jehovah-Tsidkenu draws its meaning—“tsedek.” From “tsedek” comes words such as “right”, “righteous”, “just”, “justify”, and “declare innocent”.
When coupled with the name “Jehovah,” it means that all God does is ever and only righteous and that He is the sole source of all that is righteous and good. And because His names are about the revelation of Himself to us, this name—Jehovah Tsidkenu—is to help us understand why He is our righteousness and why our own righteousness won’t do.
So, first, what is righteousness?
From human standards, righteousness is the quality of being morally true or justifiable. And it’s justification is aligned to the conformity of behavior regulated by laws or statues which, as we’ve seen in recent times, can be countermanded and superseded by “alternative truths”.
Whereas from a spiritual perspective, there’s a deeper meaning of righteousness that shifts the focus from human to be God-centric. That is, to be right in the eyes of God in our conscience (attitude), character (nature), and conduct (actions) based on God’s law. And most importantly, righteousness is the God-given quality imputed to us when we believe in Jesus.
Imputed! Whatdoes this mean?
When we believe in Christ, an amazing thing happens. The merit and worthiness of Christ’s blood takes away our sin and condemnation, and the merit and worthiness of His obedience is imputed to us for righteousness.
This means, when God looks at us it’s just as He sees Christ—as though Christ’s life is ours. And we are accepted, blessed, and rewarded as though all that Christ did was done by us—that is, those who believe in Him and accept His grace gift. This goes back to the principles of free will and “if-then. In this case, God initiates, offering His righteousness, IF we chose to accept and obey His commandments, statutes, and laws, THEN He fulfills.
This week, my brother shared this meme in our group chat that is quite fitting. It reads:
It made me chuckle but more so it caused me to think more about the specificity of imputation.
Adam represented all humanity; therefore when he sinned, we sinned representatively in him, and what he did was imputed to us.
Like the meme you may say I never agreed to the imputation. Indeed you didn’t. But, have you ever tried to do good and despite your best efforts evil some how shows up? You didn’t choose but by virtue of representation the evil that started in Adam shows up in the midst of your trying to do good.
And, we’re not the only ones to struggle with this. Paul, to whom a significant portion of the Bible is attributed, cried out in desperation “oh wretched man that I am” in realizing that sin dwells in him, thwarting his every effort to do good. “Who will deliver me”, he furthered beseeched. Then in gratitude acknowledged that in Jesus Christ is the antidote—the Lord our Righteousness. He said:
… not having mine own righteousness, … but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith:”
Philippians 3:9 KJV
The STANDOUTPOINT is this: It is by representation that we fell, and it is by the representative system that we rise.
This was the “it” that Abraham saw and it’s no wonder he rejoiced (we spoke on this in the last post👈).
Through Adam’s sin we were condemned to eternal death. However, through Jesus’ sacrifice the amazing and mysterious transfer took place:
Jesus was made to be the sin offering for humanity in order that we might become the righteousness of God in Him (2 Corinthians 5:21) and have access to eternal life.
But, because we are created with free will, we have to choose this gift of righteousness.
That was a humongous gamble to take wouldn’t you say? God knew our beginning, our in-between and our end yet Jesus became sin for us on the off-chance that we would accept the sacrifice and become God’s righteousness.
Shabbat Shalom
May you choose God and come to know Him as the God of our righteousness. As we journey to know Him, we may miss the mark from time to time. But, if we remain faithful in seeking after Him, in time our hearts will line up to His. And without even realizing the process, one day we’ll look at ourselves and ask: “When did I stop doing this thing and that thing?” That is when we’ll know and fully understand that we are now established in the righteousness of God.
This is part of a series of posts, “What in God’s Name”, exploring the 7 redemptive names of God. See you next week for Jehovah Nissi—the God who is our Banner.
But before we go I’d like to share another of my favorite songs—this one sung by Chris Brown about the power of the blood of Jesus to make him/us free to overcome sin. I leave you with his testimony song, “Mercy”.
Shabbat Shalom. This is part 2 of Jehovah Jireh. Part I is available here👈. Let’s get right into it.
… Abraham called the name of the place, The-Lord-Will-Provide; as it is said to this day, “In the Mount of the Lord it shall be provided.”
Genesis 22:14 NKJV
In part 1 we focused on the first part of Abraham’s declaration of this name of God—The Lord Will Provide, which in Hebrew is Jehovah Jireh. This post will be about the second part of the verse—“in the Mount of the Lord it shall be provided”—looking at which “mount” and what is the “it” to be provided.
As I’ve been doing with these explorations of God’s names, we’ll start with the backstory and apply relevance to our lives in the now.
This backstory of the “it” goes way back to the beginning!
You see, long before God made the covenant with Abraham, he first made it with Eve and Adam. God created humans with free will and the ability to use that free will to have a relationship with Him. When Eve and Adam succumbed to the devil’s temptation and deception, they went against what God commanded. In other words, they sinned as sin is the transgression of God’s law. (1 John 3:4) And that severed their relationship with God.
In fact, their very first act was to hide, to separate themselves from God. And God’s very first act was to seek. And He’s been on a seeking or grace mission ever since.
God covenanted with Eve and Adam that theirs and all humanity’s relationship with Him would be restored, bringing them again into harmony with divine will to enable them to obey God’s law. So He gave them this promise of grace which was also a direct rebuke to the devil while also putting the devil on notice.
This was God’s promise:
I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed; it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel.
Genesis 3:15
Time won’t allow for an in-depth review of this verse, but suffice it to say it was the Bible’s first mention of the covenant of grace that promised a Savior to enable humans to obey God’s law. And that the ratification would be through a sacrifice thus pointing to Jesus Christ who was to come in the fullness of time. In the interim a sacrificial system was put in place as a substitute.
Now we get to Abraham. By the time Abraham was born, just over 2,000 years later, what was started by Eve and Adam had proliferated widely and sin had taken over the hearts of the people so much so they had mostly forgotten the ways and law of God.
Abraham’s dad, for example, had forgotten the command to worship no other gods and was steeped in idolatry. But not Abraham. Abraham revered God. Unlike Eve and Adam who hid from God, when God called Abraham his response was: “Here I am”! (Genesis 22:1)
How did Abraham stay faithful to a God he’d not seen his father worship?
Back then, the ways of God—his laws/commandments—were passed on from one generation to the other through their oral traditions. So it’s quite plausible that Abraham heard some things. The point is, we don’t know what knowledge he had about the true God. But, what we do know is when God spoke to him about the promise of a Savior, in faith, Abraham believed.
In fact, Jesus Himself confirmed this. Jesus said,
… Abraham rejoiced as he looked forward to my coming. He saw it and was glad.
What Jesus was saying was this: when God interrupted the sacrifice of Isaac on Mount Moriah and provided a substitute ram, Abraham saw not only a provision for the immediate sacrifice but through faith he saw all the way to the provision of the ultimate sacrifice through Jesus.
So when Abraham followed his declaration of “Jehovah Jireh” with “in the Mount of the Lord it shall be provided”, he was referring to Golgotha—the place where Jesus was crucified, which many scholars believe to be the same as Moriah. And the “it” he referred to was the redemption from sin through the sacrificial gift of Jesus.
From “Old” to “New” Covenant
Now, let’s look specifically at this covenant that God made with Abraham. First, it’s important to point out that it was actually a renewal of the covenant first made to Eve and Adam. And what is that? The “it”—the redemption of all humanity through a Savior on condition of obedience through faith in Christ. This was the covenant renewed to Abraham, with a promise, and he accepted by faith that the Savior to fulfill or ratify the covenant would come through his lineage.
The actual wording of the promise to Abraham is this:
… in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed.
Genesis 12:3 KJV
Or as Adam Clarke expounded: “In thy posterity, in the Messiah, who shall spring from thee, shall all families of the earth be blessed”. We also saw that in last week’s post in the lineage litany.
When Jesus died He ratified the covenant and so it’s referred to as “new” but in essence it’s always been the “it”—theplan for bringing humanity back in relationship with God or into harmony with the divine will enabling them to obey God’s law.
God’s law has always been the basis of this covenant because without it there could be no sin.
I could go on and on because there’s so much to say; but let me wrap this up with three application points.
Application Point I: We hide, God seeks.
The theme of the everlasting promise told throughout the ages and that will continue to the end of time is this: God is on a ceaseless quest to draw your heart and mine back to Him. So much so God, as the Son, came to earth to die in order to redeem estranged sinners and to bring us back into an authentic personal relationship with Himself. I am so happy I accepted His call.
Is He calling you? If you are hiding God is seeking—He wants to be in relationship with you.
Application Point II: Don’t get it twisted, the blessing is not the promise.
The promise of the covenant renewed to Abraham came with blessings: land, a place to live, a son and numerous offspring. However, Abraham knew to distinguish between the blessing (his son) and the promise (God’s Son, our Savior). He was willing to give up his blessing in order to gain the promise and not just for himself but for “all families of the earth”. That includes you and I.
Are we holding on so tightly to something or someone God blessed us with when He wants to give us so much more if we let go—the promise, HIMSELF?!
Application Point III: In covenantal matters with God, a child of God canalways expect reciprocity.
In the last post I described the promises between God and His children as conditional based on a sequence of “if-then” actions. Though the covenant was ratified on Calvary through Jesus, the aim of the covenant is eternal—that “ALL families of the earth be blessed”. God is immutable. He says what He means and means what He says. So “all families” means all—those from Adam’s days, those from Abraham’s days, those today and those to come.
And, the “if-then” actions also remain—God initiates with a promise, IF we accept and obey His commandments, statutes, and laws, THEN He fulfills. And, we see this with Abraham. Of Abraham God said, he “obeyed My voice, and kept My charge, My commandments, My statutes, and My laws”. (Genesis 26:5) This will be the same measure for those who choose to accept the grace covenant and be God’s children.
Why? Because the covenant made between God and His people (first to Adam and Eve and renewed through Abraham) was based on a relationship of commitment and obedience.
Shabbat Shalom
We see that God reveals Himself as provider of both our physical and spiritual needs. He meets the physical needs of all humanity—as the Bible puts it, giving sunshine and rain to all regardless of their disposition toward God. (Matthew 5:45). Through the death of Jesus, He’s also made provision to meet the spiritual needs of all, but that must be a matter of choice on our part.
Personally, I cannot comprehend how Jesus could leave His sovereign position on the eternal throne of Deity to come to earth and die in order to redeem me. It’s mind boggling, to say the least. So I live in gratitude everyday because of this grace-gift.
You’ll recall last post I said Abraham’s call to sacrifice his son made me cringe. Yes, at the surface level the story is indeed cringe-worthy. But, when you go deeper, it’s a beautiful foreshadowing story of past-present-future colliding as I shared through an epic poem in a previous post: The Sacrifice.👈
May you come to know and choose the God who provides now and in the future for all your needs including the redemption from sin.
This is part of a series of posts, “What in God’s Name”, exploring the 7 redemptive names of God. See you next week for Jehovah Tsidkenu—the God who is our Righteousness.
Shabbat Shalom. Welcome to the third in the series on the 7 redemptive names of God—Jehovah-Jireh, the God who provides.
The first time we come across this name of God is in the story of Abraham as he carried out a rather strange command from God. At the end of that experience,
… Abraham called the name of the place, The-Lord-Will-Provide; as it is said to this day, “In the Mount of the Lord it shall be provided.”
Genesis 22:14 NKJV
There is much to unpack from this verse. So, for today’s post I’ll focus on the first part of the verse: “Abraham called the name of the place, The-Lord-Will-Provide”. And, next week we’ll look at the other part: “In the Mount of the Lord it shall be provided.”
Let’s go back, back to the backstory.
Here we see Abraham and Sarah well on in years, in their nineties to be exact and far beyond childbearing. Yet this is when the promised son, Isaac, was born. But before Isaac there was another son, Ishmael, borne to Abraham via Hagar, Sarah’s servant.
As inevitably happens when there is a “love” triangle, tension arose between Hagar and Sarah. Feeling unloved and mistreated, Hagar ran away. [The saga unfolds in Genesis 16.]
Pregnant and alone in the desert, feeling invisible, deserted and believing no one cared, that’s when a messenger from God comes to Hagar. He instructs her to return to Sarah, but not before assuring her that her descendants will be numerous. She was so buoyed up and overjoyed at the proclamation, this was her response:
“She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: ‘You are the God who sees me,’ for she said, ‘I have now seen the One who sees me.’” That is why the well was called Beer Lahai Roi”. [Beer Lahai Roi means well of the Living One who sees me.]
Thirteen years passed by and Sarah finally becomes pregnant and she gives birth to Isaac—the long awaited blessing of a son from whom “a great nation” would come. However, some thirteen or so years after the child was born God made a most unusual request of Abraham—he’s to sacrifice Isaac! What in God’s name!? God requesting a human sacrifice?!
I must admit, this is one of the stories in the Bible that causes me to cringe so much so it’s forced me to seek an understanding of it’s symbolic and foreshadowing qualities. (I’ll delve into that next week.)
No doubt the request was one that raised varying contradictions within Abraham on different fronts. Theologically—the sacrifice of humans was against what he knew of God. Relationally—he had to hide it from Sarah. And we know the negative effects of secrets on a marriage, don’t we?! Socially—with the death of his only heir, his bloodline would cease to exist and his social status would plummet. Emotionally—his faith contradicted his affections. His faith led him to believe God would resurrect Isaac (Hebrews 11: 17-19). But, no doubt the emotional toll was high because he actually went through all the actions to sacrifice his son to the point of raising the knife before God stopped him and provided a substitute in the form of a ram.
Going through this odyssey and its last-minute dramatic intercession by God, led Abraham to memorialize the place, Mount Moriah, with a symbolic name—The-Lord-Will-Provide from which is translated Jehovah-Jireh.
There are three points that stood out for me in the examination of this name of God that I’d like to share with you.
ONE: What we often deem as “mistakes” can be a part of God’s means to provide.
The root of Jireh is “to see”. The first time we see that name of God, “El Roi”, is with Hagar. (Genesis 16:13)
However, when compounded with Jehovah, Jireh means “to provide”.
So the name Jehovah Jireh connects both Hagar’s and Abraham’s experiences and encounters with God.
God not only sees us in the current state of our experiences, but into the future and He provides for both our immediate and future needs. For that’s what the verb “will” connotes—it is present and future tense.
TWO: Our act of letting go releases not only God’s provision, but enables God to know experientially how we feel about Him.
When God saw that Abraham would obey Him, even to the point of giving up what he held dearest, his only son, then God provided. You see, it’s an if-then relationship which God always initiates. He makes a request, if we comply then He will act, and His action is always a blessing.
After Abraham acted, God said something that is striking: “now I know that you fear me” (Genesis 22:12). It begs the question, if God knows all things, why did He say “now I know” after Abraham acted?
One of my favorite Bible teachers, Dr Tony Evans in his book, The Power of God’s Names, gave me a new insight into this verse. While God knows all things—actual and potential—He doesn’t necessarily know everything experientially. In essence, God was saying to Abraham, now I have experienced that you revere Me.
This is why the Bible says God inhabits our praise. According to Strong’s Concordance, inhabits is from the Hebraic word yashab, which means to “sit”, “remain”, or “dwell.” Think about it, the omnipresent God who can be everywhere at the same time sits/remains/dwells in a moment of time in order to experience our praise. From our praise it’s as if He responds with: now I know experientially that you love and adore Me, I will in turn reveal more of myself to you.
And, THREE: When God requests us to do something, delayed obedience and action is as good as disobedience. But when we obey, He blesses us abundantly above what we can even imagine.
When God spoke to Abraham about Isaac he obeyed and acted right away. God blessed him abundantly above just a promised son but that from his lineage the ultimate promised Son, Jesus Christ, would come.
How do we know this? Well, right after this traumatic and dramatic experience of the almost sacrifice, the Bible record goes straight into what reads like an anticlimax—it outlines Abraham’s lineage. “And … begat …” till we get to “And Bethuel begat Rebekah….” (Genesis 22:23 KJV).
And who’s Rebecca? She would become the beloved wife of Isaac.
And the lineage litany continues: “Abraham begat Isaac; and Isaac begat …” till we get to “And Jacob begat Joseph the husband of Mary, of whom was born Jesus, who is called Christ.” (Matthew 1:16 KJV) Not an anticlimax after all uh?!
Shabbat Shalom
May you come to know and experience Jehovah Jireh—the God who sees us, and uses what may seem like a mistake to bless us. Jehovah Jireh—the God who provides in the immediacy of our needs and those in the future. Jehovah Jireh—the God who enters into our experiences so much so He came as human to live the human experience from conception to birth to death.
Is it possible that our needs aren’t fully met because we are holding on so tightly to the small stuff (a son, in the case of Abraham) when God wants to bless us with the huge stuff (like a whole nation from which salvation to the entire world would come)?!
It’s depicted so fittingly in this cartoon. A little girl holds on to a tiny teddy bear which she clearly loves and can’t imagine parting with it while God is cajoling her to trust Him and let it go for He has something better in store. Do you think she did? Would you?
God is asking us: would you trust Me enough to surrender, to let go off of it/her/him/them/whatever so I may provide what you really need?!
The lyrics of one of my all-time favorite songs, aptly entitled “Jireh” (by Elevation Worship and Maverick City Music) is too perfectly aligned not to share it here. Enjoy!
See you next week for Part II of Jehovah Jireh, the God who provides.
Shabbat Shalom. Welcome to today’s exploration of the God who heals—Jehovah Rapha.
So, I’ll start by laying out the backstory then we’ll explore healing through poetry.
The very first time we come across this attribute of God is exactly 3 days after ancient Israel left the bondage of Egypt and were en route to the freedom land God promised them. Along the way they became thirsty and the first body of water they came upon turned out to be undrinkable. They murmured against their leader, Moses, he in turn cried out to God who led him to a tree that had transforming power. A branch from that tree dropped in the water miraculously turned it from bitter and undrinkable to sweet.
Just over a week prior the people had witnessed 10 different plagues fall all over Egypt as their leader, the Pharaoh, refused to submit to the authority of God as Almighty. The Pharaoh actually deemed himself to be god. God used the miracle of the water as a teachable moment and in so doing personally introduced Himself as healer. Referencing the plight of the Egyptians, this was His assurance to ancient Israel:
If you diligently heed the voice of the LORD your God and do what is right in His sight, give ear to His commandments and keep all His statues, I will put none of the diseases on you which I have brought on the Egyptians. For I am the LORD who HEALS you.
That assurance extends to this time and to us as well. And God knows, we sure are in need of healing.
The dictionary definition of healing is “the process of making or becoming sound or healthy again”. However, God as Healer/Jehovah Rapha takes healing a lot further. The Hebraic translation of Rapha means not only to “heal” but to “restore”, “cure” or “make whole”.
Now to poetry. One of the reasons why I like poetry as a form of creative expression is the therapeutic potential poems hold to heal.
In traumatic situations for instance, or even for the hardest things to talk about, relief is found when we can find the words to articulate what is being felt. And for this articulation, poetry has often been the ‘go to’ type of expressive writing, including for me. Why? Because in the expression of my own voicethrough composing a poetic piece, I feel its therapeutic power including for healing if that’s what is needed at the time.
In preparing for this post, I made a discovery. In Chinese, the word poem is composed of two characters — one meaning “word” and the other “temple”. And it’s no wonder that poetry lends itself so well to healing as it is the combination of the sacred and the word.
Now, I know that the Chinese character means just that, word—an element of speech or writing, but I’d like to extend that to the Biblical reference of word:
The Word [God] became flesh and made His dwelling among us.
And, this proposition of God as word is not at all farfetched because we also know that God’s healing or redemptive work comes from the Greek word “poiēma” (Ephesians 2:10) from which poem is derived. [You may read more on this here👈.]
The healing attribute of God is not only for restoration and cure, but it’s also for wholeness including from the effects of sin. However, God bringing us back to wholeness does not in any way exclude any part of our history or experiences; rather, it builds on it.
The Bible likens the process of God restoring humanity to a potter restoring clayware that’s been broken.
We know that broken clayware is often discarded or if efforts are made to put it back together, the cracks will be evident and the original beauty is therefore lost. It’s now scarred. No longer fit for display. But, in the Potter’s hand a broken pot, a.k.a. a broken human, restored does not mean unmarred—our history and experiences remain but they don’t dictate our lives.
Rather, it’s like God applying the Japanese repair technique, kintsugi. He treats both our breakage and repair as part of our history and experiences, rather than something to disguise, making us His masterpiece still fit for display.
[kintsugi meaning “golden seams” or “golden repair”]
That is what God’s healing does, it makes us more beautiful for having been broken.
And now, a “temple word”/ poem:
Shabbat Shalom. I leave you with the assurance of the God who heals not only sickness and infirmity, but spiritual fatigue, mental affliction, emotional suffering, anxiety and worry. And, He’s a God who embraces your brokenness and flaws as beauty. Jehovah Rapha, the God who heals.
See you next week for an exploration of Jehovah Jireh, the God who provides.
In our exploration of Jehovah, the God who reveals Himself unceasingly, last week we looked at the attribute of Peace/Jehovah Shalom👈 click to read
Thank you for journeying along. First time to the site? Welcome! Feel free to “like” or drop a comment, I love hearing from you.
Some times it feels unreal, but we’ve actually been hunkered down for almost two years. Can you believe it?!
Just about every aspect of our lives have been constrained and in some instances crippled by an infectious agent that is so small it requires a microscope to visualize it. Yet, here we are on the cusp of 2022 and this virus is still threateningly looming over us so much so the year hardly feels new.
The message in the cartoon below is fitting to get us started: “What will the new year bring us? 365 opportunities!”
I think this year, in particular, we will need to be very intentional about finding those opportunities.
Governments and private sector organizations, they’re seeking those opportunities to advance recovery efforts. We hear terms like “build back better” and “new normal”. On the personal level—be it physically, mentally, psychologically or socially—we too have had to find new ways of being and living.
God also had something to say about seeking new opportunities and new ways of being under difficult circumstances. Because, of course, nothing takes Him by surprise. So, over 2000 years ago He gave the prophet Isaiah a “new thing”—in other words a “new normal”—message for His children that is most fitting for this time.
He starts off with:
Behold [in other words, it’s as if God was saying come, see something especially remarkable and impressive], I am doing a new thing; NOW it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.
What are the “new things” God is doing under this pandemic? What opportunities will God open up as pathways in the wilderness-like circumstances we will face as we traverse 2022? Will we have the insight into His will to be able to perceive it, and the will power to take ahold of those opportunities as they spring forth?
As I pondered these questions for myself, I reflected on the children of ancient Israel as they were journeying from the land of their bondage to the freedom land God promised them. They too were filled with trepidation about what the land holds.
In the same way God consoled ancient Israel, He also encourages us today. To them He spoke about the “land”, to us He’s speaking about the “year”.
The land/year you go to possess, it is a land/year of hills and valleys [meaning it won’t be smooth] and it drinks water of the rain of heavens [meaning it will be bountiful]. … The eyes of the Lord your God are always on it from the BEGINNING OF THE YEAR to the very END OF THE YEAR”.
God, in His wisdom, does not show us all that lies ahead, but He assures us that He has His eyes and hands on it all.
As we enter this new year, let us follow more courageously, more daringly, more faithfully His lead. And, as you do so I pray this blessing will be yours:
May there always be work for your hands to do;
May your purse always hold a coin or two;
May the sun always shine on your windowpane;
May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain;
May the hand of a friend always be near you;
May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.
~ Irish blessing
Shabbat Shalom
May you find peace in knowing our God has His eyes on where you will traverse from today, the beginning of the year, to the very end of the year.
And so my friends,
The LORD bless you and keep you;
The LORD make His face shine on you and be gracious to you;
The LORD turn His face toward you and give you peace [for the 365 days, 8760 hours, 525600 minutes, and 31536000 seconds of this new year].
For this Christmas Shabbat Shalom post, I’d like to talk a bit about “present”, but not the present that’s probably sitting under your tree.
We all know being human is complicated. There’s so much to navigate in living a holistic life. Bad things (and good things too) happen to all of us. Not one of us is exempt or immune. What makes all the difference isn’t what happens in our lives—‘cause face it, life happens with or without us—rather, it’s how we perceive and deal with what happens.
Often times the advice we get to address the “bad things” is to make peace with our past. And yes that is critically important to living holistically. However, it is equally essential to make peace with our present. We don’t hear that too often, do we?
Personally, when my present is working well, I find that the past is so much easier to confront and even to put behind me.
This however is not at all to say we won’t have setbacks, right?
Look, we’re humans. We all get triggered by powerful old feelings. What we can do in response is to reach for tools that can help us to successfully manage and deal with negative emotions. And most importantly, to not fall back to old scripts. I know, easier said than done.
The holidays are especially big triggers. So, I’d like to share a three-part tool recommended by David, the Psalmist, and I know it’s been successfully tested and tried by many many followers of Christ and of the Bible.
Before David recommended this tool, however, he first referenced the consequences of past behaviors like feelings of shame and guilt. And he did so only as an acknowledgment because with the next breath his admonition was to take action:
…commune with your own heart on your bed and be still”.
The first part of the tool: acknowledge (not ruminate) negative emotions.
It’s human. It’s all part of the journey. We make mistakes or we are the byproducts of other’s mistakes. We feel guilty, ashamed etc. Acknowledging is the first step to making peace with our present.
The second part of the tool: self-forgiveness.
To commune with your own heart is the process of separating who you are from the mistakes you’ve made. It’s an introspective examination done in a safe space. I think David deliberately said “on your bed” because
“True confession consists of telling our deed in such a way that our soul is changed in the telling of it.”
—Maude Petre (English Nun)
And where is the best place to have this level of confession than in an intimate space where you feel safe (like bed). Bed could be your literal bed, or the place from where you commune with God, or the sofa of a therapist if you choose that route. Wherever you choose it should be a space where you can feel safe to go through the process of forgiving yourself.
The third part of the tool: be still.
I think David’s “be still” call is to be present. To know that at every moment we are each doing the best we can based on the beliefs and knowledge we have at that moment. And, to enjoy the present.
And, also to be in a state of decisive intention to connect to the Power that is greater than us. To make a conscious decision to remove or modify external forces in full surrender to the Omnipresence of God in order to be ‘at-one-ment’ with Him.
External forces—even family, friends and jobs and emotions such as fear, doubt, anger or worry—these all impede our ability to be still. So you may want to take time away, for in the noise of it all we cannot hear the voice of God. Some people actually choose intentional and dedicated fasting and praying time for just this purpose.
Making peace with the present means being present.
And being present means we cannot only create new understandings of our world but we can also write new scripts to tell our life experiences in ways that don’t keep us stuck in “the story”.
Being present also means that we are better able to hear God. For when we listen right enough we hear God speak.
Listening right enough is necessary because God is not a firestorm-, hurricane- or earthquake-speaking God. No. He’s the God of stillness. He’s the God of voice. And His voice is precisely like ours so we can actually recognize when He speaks, just like Elijah did.
That Elijah-be-still-and-hear-God encounter is too well aligned to the purpose of this post for me not to include it in closing.
Here is God speaking directly to Elijah:
… Go forth, and stand upon the mount before the Lord. And, behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind rent the mountains, and brake in pieces the rocks before the Lord; but the Lord was not in the wind: and after the wind an earthquake; but the Lord was not in the earthquake:
And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.
And it was so, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood in the entering in of the cave. And behold, there came a voice unto him and said, What doest thou here, Elijah?
Now, is it possible that God is seeking to have a be-still moment with you and also asking you: “what doest thou here?”
Shabbat Shalom! May you find peace in not living in “the story”—the way things should have been—but rather seeking to reconcile those experiences so you may live in the truth of who you are and to be at peace with your present. And may your response to God’s still-small-voice callout, “what doest thou here?”, be: “I’m waiting for you, God, for restoration in the present of now”.
You didn’t come here to master unconditional love. This is where you came from and where you’ll return.
You came here to learn personal love. Universal love. Messy love. Sweaty love. Crazy love. Whole love. Infused with divinity. Lived through the grace of stumbling. Demonstrated through the beauty of … messing up. Often.
You didn’t come here to be perfect, you are perfect just as you are.
You came here to be gorgeously human.
Flawed and fabulous.
And rising again into remembering.
Love in truth doesn’t need any adjectives. It doesn’t require modifiers. It doesn’t require the condition of perfection.
It only asks you to show up and do your best. That you stay present and feel fully. That you shine and fly and laugh and cry and hurt and heal and fall and get back up and play and work and live and die. Die as … YOU.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find peace in knowing and surrendering to the unconditional love of God. A love that died to restore you, a love that will not let you go. And having lived fully in His love, to have peace to die full.
Thank you for journeying along! First time to the site? Welcome!
You didn’t come here to master unconditional love. This is where you came from and where you’ll return.
You came here to learn personal love. Universal love. Messy love. Sweaty love. Crazy love. Whole love. Infused with divinity. Lived through the grace of stumbling. Demonstrated through the beauty of … messing up. Often.
You didn’t come here to be perfect, you are perfect just as you are.
You came here to be gorgeously human.
Flawed and fabulous.
And rising again into remembering.
Love in truth doesn’t need any adjectives. It doesn’t require modifiers. It doesn’t require the condition of perfection.
It only asks you to show up and do your best. That you stay present and feel fully. That you shine and fly and laugh and cry and hurt and heal and fall and get back up and play and work and live and die. Die as … YOU.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find peace in knowing and surrendering to the unconditional love of God. A love that died to restore you, a love that will not let you go. And having lived fully in His love, to have peace to die full.
Thank you for journeying along! First time to the site? Welcome!
Whether tears are as a consequence of joy or sorrow, they speak volumes—even more than words can say.
As I mentioned in last week’s Shabbat Shalom post, I was writing it from my own heart experience. What I didn’t say was that it was written with tears.
(You may read that post, “Shabbat Shalom: comma-but-God” 👉here.)
Yes, I do mean to say “with” tears.
The many reactions that last week’s Shabbat Shalom post evoked is testimony to this—tears have the power to trigger human connection. And God uses tears to connect human experiences for healing and restoration.
Humans are the only species born totally incapable of helping ourselves. At birth and in the early stages of life we are vulnerable and physically unequipped to deal with anything on our own. Instead, we cry to signal our need for help.
As adults, we oft times face issues and problems that are beyond our ability to cope, at least temporarily. And, in those instances it’s as if we’re babies again. And, we cry. Emotional tears say: “I’m vulnerable. In this moment I’m beyond my own capacity to help myself. I need help. I need you.”
Tears have a voice.
The very essence of being human, is the ability to cry emotionally, and on the other hand being able to respond to the emotional tears of another.
In writing last week’s post with tears, though I didn’t say it, the tears actually spoke through. It triggered connection and generated the most deeply personal responses which came not only through the website but to me, personally, as SMSes and voice notes as well.
Before last week’s Shabbat Shalom post, I had written over 350 other posts on this blog. But never one written with tears.
So the reactions to this post made me realize that tears when shed from intense emotions, will not return empty, but will reap a harvest.
Tears have a harvest.
The Psalmist David says it this way—God collects our tears and bottles them.
David didn’t pull the concept of bottling tears from thin air. No. It was a tradition of his time and one which dates back to almost 3,000 years. A tear bottle, or a lachrymatory, (from the Latin lacrima, ‘tear’) is a small vessel in which mourners are said to have collected their tears.
Going back to the concept of God bottling our tears—as I mulled over all the responses from last week’s post, and contemplated on the reference to God bottling our tears, two object lessons stood out for me which I’d like to share with you today.
Lesson I: Tears cannot be collected from a distance.
God is deeply concerned about us. When we hurt, when we cry, He takes note of every hurt and collects and bottles every drop of tear. And I think it’s because our tears take our Father—our DaddyGod—back to the point of our deepest vulnerability. He sees us in a state of baby-like-ness which evokes that God-to-human connection, and He draws near.
Now, I don’t think God actually has a collection of bottles. But, what I think David was alluding to when he wrote this, was the remembrance of God. And in His recollection, God redistributes our tears to water the heart-soil of others who are hurting from a similar pain. And He then opens opportunities for us to share from our point of pain to the point of restoration in others.
Whether it be that He influences the mind of a blogger to write from her heart-pain or He directs a reader to share, starting a chain reaction of heart restoration—whatever it is, God uses tears to trigger the human-to-human connection.
Tears, in deed, cannot be collected from a distance.
Lesson II: Tears beget harvests.
The bottling process has one very clear objective. In the case of wine (which was the first example that came to mind), the objective of bottling is primarily to protect the wine from oxidation for as long as possible. In simple terms, oxidation iswhen oxygen combines with an element and changes its appearance.
The central theme in all the responses to last week’s Shabbat Shalom post was this: the message came at just the right time. Each person from a different experience, yet each connected to the post to the extent to which it spoke to their specific need.
No tear is lost. They are bottled—being protected by God from oxidation until it’s time for them to reap a harvest.
Every tear is a story—big, small, or in-between—that God takes note of and that He remembers. And He releases them on the wings of oxygen. Oxygen is the life-supporting component of air. When God releases your story, the process of oxidation changes the appearance of your story to mirror the need of the intended recipient. And in so doing, the tears of your one story can speak to the hurt of so many others. Why? Because tears beget harvests.
I believe that when tears “speak”, that’s God!
For us there is no way to number the myriad things that cause us to shed tears. Not so for God. He knows every cause and He is the cure.
Not only does God sing and dance over us in the upbeat times. But, because of the caring loving parent that He is, He keeps track of our downbeat times, and He finds creative ways to ensure our tears reap their harvest.
Reflection
Last week I wrote to you with tears from a “comma” moment—a pause at a juxtaposition between the angst I was feeling and the “but God” intervening that’s in the unfolding.
Having experienced how my tears spoke to and watered the heart-soul of so many others, today I write to you still from a “comma-but-God” life-place, but with these assurances from God:
Shabbat Shalom. May you find your own assurances that God is intimately concerned with every aspect of your life. He’s equally involved in your joy-times as He is in your sorrow-times. It may be hard to see it sometimes, but trust that He extends His graciousness and compassion by intervening against the challenges of your life at just the right times.
When your tears speak from sorrow, hurt or pain—it doesn’t matter how big or small, how trivial or important—God listens and He wants to intervene. I hope you’ll let Him.
At a concert a couple years ago I bought a tee-shirt that read: “…but God”. I was drawn to it because I’ve always been fascinated with the power associated with that two-word combo in the Bible. It’s such a compelling combination that you’ll often hear folks use it as a complete sentence in gratitude to what could have been life-altering situations had they taken place.
For today’s Shabbat Shalom post I’ll delve a little into punctuation rules, only enough to distinguish between the power of a comma in juxtaposing “…but-God” pause moments from what would otherwise be a period or closure moments.
In the English language, the punctuation rules dictate that a comma is used before but, but only when two halves of the sentence can stand alone. In this case, but is the coordinating conjunction and requires the comma to separate the two clauses. In other words, as a cordinating conjunction, but links two contrastive sentences.
No, this is not a post about English punctuation rules. It’s rather one about contrasting God’s graciousness and compassion in intervening against the challenges of our lives; and, looking at it from the practical use of a punctuation—the “comma”, with the power of using the conjunction—“but”.
All throughout the Bible, in just about every instance when all seems lost and then we read: “…, but God”, we can be assured that what’s coming up next are God’s interventions that will dramatically turn things around.
In searching the Bible (the KJV), I found forty-four of such “…comma-but-God” verses, and they all pretty much follow this construct:
Trouble … trouble … more trouble …, (comma) but God victory … victory … more victory. (period)
Making this personal
Before going any further, I must share that the revelation I received in preparing for this post was first made very personal to me in order for me share it with you.
Are there areas in your life where you’re faced with “trouble … trouble … more trouble” and you think this is the end? You say:
“I won’t find a job.”
“I’ll never get married.”
“This will be the death of me.”
“Just one more fix to end it all.”
“My heart won’t recover from this one.”
And so you’ve placed a PERIOD—you’ve stopped, given up—at a point in your life where God only placed a COMMA—a pause—in order to set you up for the contrastive clause. The BUT GOD pause in which He wishes to juxtapose His contrasting graciousness and compassion against the troubles of your life in order for you to gain “victory … victory … more victory.(period)”
If you’ve had these “trouble … trouble … more trouble” moments, then I’d like to share some encouraging “… comma-but-God” assurances from God’s word that encourage me in those contrastive-areas of my own life:
David, king of ancient Israel Joseph, Prime Minister of ancient EgyptApostle Paul David, king of ancient Israel (he knew trouble)Jonah who ran away from God and found himself in the belly of a huge fish
Today’s post is one of encouragement.
In case you’ve put a “period”—a closure—in an area of your life where God intended to only put a “comma”—a pause—I encourage you to see the “…comma-but-God” power to separate the two parts of the contrasting options before you—victory from trouble.
Your Heavenly Father says:
God is a Deliverer from trouble. Life sometimes leads down painful paths. God sees beyond what ails you, what causes you distress and pain to a victorious way out. He has a plan for you to “prosper”.
In this use of “prosper”, it’s a translation from the Hebrew word “shalom” (שָׁלוֹם) meaning: peace, soundness, welfare, tranquility, prosperity, completeness.
Interestingly, shalom is also used to communicate both “hello” and “goodbye”. It’s as if our DaddyGod in assuring us that He has a plan for our lives was bidding us to say goodbye to harm, but hello to hope!
Shabbat Shalom. Today I hope “shalom” took on a deeper, more personal, meaning for you. May you find peace at the “…comma-but-God”moments of your life, and the assurance that your destiny does not end with harm or trouble, but with prosperity and with victory.
Reflecting on photos from my favorite park mixed with quotes from folks who spoke the sentiments of my heart before I did …
“Autumn leaves shower like gold, like rainbows, as the winds of change begin to blow.”– Dan Millman
“There is something so special in the early leaves drifting from the trees–as if we are all to be allowed a chance to peel, to refresh, to start again.”– Ruth Ahmed
“Fall has always been my favorite season. The time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale.”—Lauren Destefano
“I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift.” – Dodinsky
“Of all the seasons, autumn offers the most to man and requires the least of him.”– Hal Borland
“Fall for Jesus, He never leaves.”—Author Unknown
“Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.”—Stanley Horowitz
For today’s Shabbat Shalom post we’ll talk about God as name changer.
One of the reasons why I love God is that He is a doer of astoundingly-great things. One of those exceptional things He does is to change names.
Throughout the Bible there are examples of God’s name-changing power at work. And God didn’t just change names, He also spoke into those people who or what they were to be as embodied in their new names, even when they were still operating in old name ways.
For instance, He renamed Abram Abraham, meaning “father of a multitude”; and his wife Sarai He renamed Sarah, meaning “mother of nations”. And He did this while as a couple they were still childless and well on into their 90s!
For God has the power to call those things which are not as though they are. Romans 4:17
Another example is Simon. I like this name change best for two reasons. One, because it speaks to the dichotomy of human nature. And two, because it demonstrates the calling-in approach God uses in bringing us into our new names.
Simon was a character. A fisherman by trade. He was a fast-talker and he was belligerent. He could cuss you out at the drop of a hat. Interestingly enough, Jesus called him to be one of His twelve disciples. But, to the extent to which Simon was flawed, he was also faithful and courageous. And Jesus saw that within Simon, as well as solid-unshakable-leadership like qualities that would benefit the growth of the early church.
This is how the Bible records their first meeting:
And when Jesus beheld him, he said, Thou art Simon the son of Jona: thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation, a stone.
Although Jesus changed his name, within him were both Simon-traits and Peter-traits contending against each other. And we have many examples, because of the twelve disciples Peter is the most written about. His name appears 120 times in the four books that comprise the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John). For the most part, when he’s referenced by his old and new name together—Simon Peter—it’s when his behavior demonstrated the dichotomy of desiring to do good but end up doing evil instead. And in those instances it’s as if he was being called out.
Here’s one example: the Bible says,
Then Simon Peter having a sword drew it, and smote the high priest’s servant, and cut off his right ear….
This was Simon acting in defense of Jesus, but it was definitely not Peter-like behavior. [By the way, Jesus intervened by reprimanding Simon Peter and restoring the soldier’s ear.]
The point here is that Jesus knows the dichotomy, the two sides of our beings, and so He knew Simon Peter’s struggle. While others were quick to call him out as Simon, Jesus instead used the call-in approach and spoke to the Peter he was becoming.
Listen to the way Jesus spoke to both the Simon side and the Peter side:
Simon, Simon, listen! Satan has demanded to sift you like grain; but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail….
And Peter said to Him, “Lord, I am ready to go with You both to prison and to death!”
Jesus said, “I say to you, Peter, before the rooster crows today, you will utterly deny three times that you know Me.”
Notice Jesus called him by his old name twice. I think He did that on purpose to reassure Peter while he struggled with his own Simon-ness. I imagine Jesus placing His two hands on Peter’s shoulders, looking him square in the eyes and with compassion in His voice gave Simon the best assurance—that He, Jesus, would pray him through to his Peter-ness.
Wow! To have Jesus pray for you!
But, no sooner than Jesus gave Peter this assurance than he manifested Simon-ness—he exclaimed his commitment to stand by Jesus to the point of imprisonment or death. And no doubt Simon meant it. But, Jesus told him that what he’d actually do was to deny knowing Him. But notice this time Jesus didn’t call him Simon. He called him by his new name—Peter—using a call-in approach to remind him of what he’s becoming; that is, “stone-like” in his faith and this was at the point where Simon probably felt his worst.
History goes on to tell us that in the end Peter did lay down his life for the gospel and chose to be crucified upside down. Britannica: St Peter the Apostle
Yes I focused on Simon Peter, but the reality is we are all a bit of Simon Peter. Aren’t we?! We all struggle with names or labels others place on us. Calling us out for our flaws, our faults and our shortcomings. But God is calling us in. He wants to change our names and speak into and over us all the traits that come with that new name.
Because Jesus died to redeem us back to Himself, in accepting Him we inherit new names. And we get to choose depending on what our needs are. Feeling abandoned? God calls you WANTED. Feeling like an orphan? God calls you DAUGHTER or SON OF GOD. Or maybe you feel unattractive. God calls you WONDERFULLY MADE.
Free. Not forgotten. Forgiven. Honored. Blessed. Chosen. This is who and what God says you are!
Shabbat Shalom. May you find peace in embracing your new name and in knowing who you are based on who God says you are.
For today’s Shabbat Shalom post the focus will be the wholeness in worship. And I’ll explain it using an ancient story told in the Bible in the book of St. Luke, the 17th chapter.
One day Jesus was passing through a town and came across ten men who were suffering from a debilitating flesh eating disease—leprosy—they were standing afar off. [Yes, social distancing is not a new disease control measure.]
“Hey Jesus”, they shouted across the divide, “please, heal us”!!
Their combined voices coupled with their common desperation to be heard amplified their call-out. Moved with compassion and being mindful of the public health restrictions, Jesus didn’t bid them draw near for a touch. Instead, in a voice equally amplified by His desperate desire to restore, Jesus shouted back:
“Go show yourselves to the Priest”!!
Odd response, wouldn’t you say?!
Yet, in faith, the 10 men proceeded on the path to the Temple.
[in my imagination this is how the rest of the story unfolded…] A minute or so into their walk, one man glanced over at another and could literally see the melanin returning to his skin. Right before his eyes white blotches were returning to caramel-like skin tone, and sores and lesions were disappearing replaced by new flawless skin. He reached up and touched his own nose that was starting to be deformed and it was restored. Soon there was a buzz of excitement and exuberant chatter of jubilation amongst the 10 men as each served as the mirror for the other. Soon all 10 were fully cleansed.
Seeing that their skin and bodies were cleansed, what started out as a walk turned into a slow trot and then a full-on sprint as they dashed off in varying directions, likely to their homes.
All except one.
Yes, his walk also turned to a trot and then a full-on sprint but not toward his home, he raced instead toward Jesus. Breathless, he catches up to Jesus in the town and throws himself at Jesus’ feet in gratitude for the healing of his physical body.
And here is where this ancient story takes a profound turn that is very relevant to us in this modern day. Ten men had leprosy. Ten men were cleansed or healed. But only one was made whole.
There’s a difference between being healed and being made whole.
The man expressed gratitude for his physical healing in spiritual terms—the Bible says, he glorified or worshipped God. While the other nine men ran to their physical homes, this one man ran to his spiritual home.
As spiritual matters can only be spiritually discerned 1Corinthians 2:14, Jesus saw beyond the man’s physical expression of gratitude to his spiritual expression of worship. In response, this is what Jesus declared:
The man was already healed—his physical body was transformed, he saw it with his eyes. So when Jesus responded to his act of worship by declaring him whole, He couldn’t have been referring to the physical healing.
There is a deep need in all of us that if left unmet leaves us feeling incomplete on the inside. It’s a longing, a yearning for something we can’t explain but it drives us to seek its fulfillment. We all have that nagging feeling that there must be something more to life than this—this day-to-day existence. Some people seek to fulfill it in service to others, some in the accumulation of “stuff”, and others unable to find fulfillment seek to dull the desire with drugs, alcohol or other self-harming behaviors.
This lingering restlessness has also been the muse of poets and singers. After all the money and fame and the thrills that came with a superstar lifestyle, the Irish rock group U2 sang: “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.” David, the poet, the ultimate logophile, expressed it this way: I have a “soul thirst” so intense my soul pants like a deer panting for water. Psalm 42:1-3
But what David came to recognize and was able to record, that U2 did not, was that the deep desire in his soul could be met by only the One who created that desire—God! God created a desire for Himself in us.
This is what this healed leper was feeling [For the sake of a better reference than “leper”, I’m gonna name him Repel i.e. leper in reverse, ‘cause sometimes you gotta reverse and repel what was sent to derail you.] Repel got what he thought was his greatest desire—to be healed—but deep within him he still felt incomplete. He hadn’t found what he was looking for. However, what distinguished his response from the other nine? Gratitude. And not just gratitude, but how he chose to express it.
No doubt the other nine men were grateful, but the expression of their gratitude was directed to the source of their desire—likely a wife or a child or maybe a couple of them made it to the Priest.
For Repel, he recalled that he had tried all those before and they left him empty. He stopped mid-run, U-turned and made a beeline back to Jesus.
Again David explains this masterfully. He puts it this way—deep calls unto deep. Psalm 42:7 Our deep need, this restless longing, inherently calls unto the deep of the Creator’s fullness. And, vice-a-versa, the deep of the Creator’s fullness calls unto the deep of our need. Between our need and God’s all-sufficiency there is a great divide—experienced in us as this restless yearning.
This is what Repel came to understand, and it reversed his steps and changed his life course.
Let’s go back to Jesus’ declaration as Repel knelt pouring out his gratitude in worship: “your faith has made you whole”.
In the English language, the life-changing significance in that one word—whole—is lost. However, in the Greek language the profundity is awe-inspiring.
The word Jesus used to make this pronouncement of wholeness is defined in Young’s Literal Translation of the Bible as “saved” as it’s derived from the Greek word sōzō, translated “saved, healed, delivered“.
Ten lepers healed, physically. One leper made whole—because he, Repel, repelled the usual forces that he previously thought could fulfill his need, to receive the only One who could and had made him whole. And so, he was saved from sin, healed from within, and delivered from restlessness.
In the act of expressing gratitude Repel worshipped and in that process was made whole—saved/healed/delivered.
The message rings true from ancient times to now: until we come to terms and accept that the restlessness in us can only be fulfilled in the all-sufficiency of God, we will continue to give our desires to people and things that will leave us unfulfilled.
We were created to worship. But we were also created with the ability to choose. We choose who or what we worship.
What is worship? I’d say, in its stripped down definition, worship is a heart attitude that is expressed as love, gratitude and praise toward God, and a devotion of time in service toward what will advance God’s kingdom.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find gratitude in worship to and of God and enjoy the wholeness-living—saved from sin, healed from within, and delivered from restlessness. Be like Repel.
When you think about haunting, what are some thoughts that first come to mind? Spooky? Eerie? Ghostly? How about darkness? When I think about haunting, darkness is what first comes to my mind.
The most basic definition of darkness is the absence of light. Darkness and dark places also conjure up fear.
Let’s look at a haunted house for instance. What makes a haunted house scary? It’s darkness itself, isn’t it? It’s also the hidden “stuff” that causes you to fear the unseen. But, what if the lights are turned on while you’re in a haunted house, doesn’t that minimize the fear? Yeah. And why is that? Because what you can see you do not fear. Or, if no lights are turned on and you get too scared you have the choice to leave the haunted house.
Not so with a haunted heart.
A haunted heart is a heart that’s darkened by issues that you dare not let anyone see or know about, the issues you struggle with alone and silently that turn your heart lifeless. A lifeless heart is one that is cold, bitter, unforgiving, impenetrable; it loves less but expects more; it’s devoid of God—what the Bible calls a stony heart.
David (King of ancient Israel) recorded it like this in Psalm 55: he says, “My heart is sore-pained.… Oh, if I had wings like a dove I would fly awayand be at peace”. But when the haunting is in your heart, there’s no flying away is there?! And, unlike you can with a haunted house, you cannot run or fly away from a haunted heart because you take the haunting with you.
In essence, you’re not at home in your own heart.
Much of what haunts our hearts comes from Guilt, Hopelessness, Offense, Sorrow, or Threats. Did you get that?
G.H.O.S.Ts.
Yes. A lifeless heart is a heart haunted by “ghosts”.
Often times we define haunted heart experiences based on the current circumstance like: a breakup; the breaking of your one beautiful heart; the loss of a job or a bad diagnosis or a rejection so intense you think you won’t wake the next day; or it could be from an emotional breakdown.
However, when we define where we’re at emotionally, physically or spiritually by circumstances, then we are only dealing with fruit—what is evident and tangible, what can be seen and touched.
What we need to be addressing instead is root. The root cause of a cold, stony, ghost-haunted heart is it’s separation from its life-love source—God.
So God offers an exchange to bring our hearts back to Him. He says:
God wants to bring our lifeless hearts back to life through a gift by which we were Granted Righteousness At Christ’s Expense. Did you get that?
G.R.A.C.E.
God wants to take away the “G.H.O.S.Ts” and replace them with G.R.A.C.E. His grace can restore our hearts to being warm, loving, sensitive, and tender toward Him and our fellow human beings.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find the peace that comes from a heart renewed in Christ Jesus, and to be at home in your own heart.
When the Most High God created us, He gave us a most powerful and beautiful gift—choice!
The power and beauty of choice is that it’s predicated on there being more than one option or possibility; and, the path taken will over time make you, you. In other words: you make choices, choices make you.
We choose our joys and sorrows long before we experience them.
Khalil Gibran
If based on hope and not fear, choices will create room for exploration, growth, learning and overall self-development.
ART to heART is more than a homophone. It’s a life-changing salvific principle used in the recreative-poetic expression of God.
The Greek word poiēma is used ONLY TWICE in the Bible and both times in reference to the creative power of God. First, when He created eARTh referred to as “things that are made”—a phrase translated from poiēma. Romans 1:20 And second, in reference to the recreating of our heARTs referenced as “masterpiece”—a word also translated from poiēma. Ephesians 2:10
In essence, God demonstrates Himself as both Creator and Redeemer through and in us.
We’re both a complete work created by the Creator, and a transforming process being recreated by the Redeemer.
Humankind was the only part of creation that God made with His hands, in His image and after His likeness. Genesis 1:26 He poured the very essence of His divine artistry in us. We were created perfect in every way.
The Bible went on to reveal that sin entered. I like the way the great theologian Charles Spurgeon puts it: he says, when sin entered it was as if “we quit [God’s] … workshop”. [Treasury of David, p239.]
Because of sin our hearts turned away from God and our ways of thinking and behaving toward God and our fellow human beings were also distorted. And sin had but one consequence—eternal death. Romans 6:23
But God wasn’t having it! Absolutely not!
Determined not to lose the crowning jewel of His creation eternally to death, God puts His redemptive plan in motion. A plan to draw us back to Himself, back into His workshop, in order to recreate His ART/His poiēma in our heARTs.
Let’s talk about God’s heart and how He loves.
God has a “SO LOVE” heart. A heart that loves far beyond a Significant-Other kind o’ love. God’s SO—to-such-a-great-extent—LOVE, is a die-for kind o’ love.
For God so loved the world, He gave His one and only Son [to die], that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.
In the act of creation, God stooped down to breathe life into us. However, in the act of redemption God offered Himself up, to die.
And He didn’t just die, God bled for us. He endured a crown of thorns that pierced His brow and spilt His blood. He endured hammering nails that tore through skin and bone and spilt His blood. He endured a piercing sword that slit His side and spilt His blood.
God bled and died to redeem us back to Himself, and to rescue us from eternal death.
This is gifted to us as grace and can only be received through faith. For those who choose to accept His gift, Romans 6:23 God likens the process to a potter transforming clay. Isaiah 64:8
And again, we see God returning to the posture of stooping—molding and shaping us, recreating the ART in our heARTs, redeeming us back as His masterpiece.
… we are God’s masterpiece [poiēma]. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.
Created anew in Jesus means we are again spiritually acceptable to God because of His redemptive power which is working in and through us. His redemptive power enables our hearts, our thoughts and our behaviors to glorify God and to be beneficial to our fellow humans.
In other words, we are redeemed/saved not by good works but for good works.
ART to heART. Now we are twice God’s—once by creation, twice by redemption. We are His ultimate workmanship—His work of art.
Shabbat Shalom. Rest assuredly in knowing you are a work of ART in progress in the hands of the genius Creator and Redeemer who uses only the right tools to reshape your heART into its perfect masterpiece design. You Are A Masterpiece, body and heART!
After-word: In the last Shabbat Shalom post I referred to God’s poetic expressions in creation through the ART He created in the midst of eARTh and the crowning jewel of His creation—human—as His masterpiece. [You can see more on that in this post: You’re A Masterpiece: God’s Work of Art.] One reader’s comment referred to the ART in heART which was expounded on for today’s post—“God’s Art to HeART”.
I went apple picking for the first time! It rained but that didn’t stop me from climbing trees to fill my bag with the choicest of apples. Topped it off with freshly-made apple cider and delish apple donuts. Yummy 😋
There were pumpkins of all sizes and shapes, some painted with adoring smiley faces. There were gourds of all sizes and shapes, there was even a ‘flock’ of swan gourds.
God is a master artist, a genius creator. When He created eARTh, He built ART into every nook and cranny of it.
And as beautiful and majestic and wonderful as the ART He created in eARTh was, at its completion God pronounced it as merely “good”. Genesis 1:10, 12
Why was that?
Because the masterpiece of His creative, artistic genius was to be His next design.
Down to the ground God stooped. Fingers spread across the soil. Skillfully coiling and releasing, He gathers piles of soil. He heaps it into just the right weight and molds it into just the right shape, into just the right depth, into just the right length.
He rounds the upper part, and within it He works meticulously and methodically—mapping out its complexity, connecting over 100 billion nerves, and building in communication pathways through trillions of connections.
Satisfied that He’s created what will forever be the seat of intelligence, the interpreter of the senses, the initiator of movement, and the controller of behavior, He wraps it protectively in a hard shell and continues His ingenious work.
Creating a finely-tuned pumping instrument, beating around 100,000 times a day to serve the whole structure.
Upon completion God stands. He levitates Himself enough to get an aerial view. The satisfied smile matches the twinkle in His eyes confirming His crown jewel was complete.
Returning to the side of the one thing in the whole of creation that He made with His own hands and in His own image—human—God then declares: “[now it is] very good”!! Genesis 1:31
His adoring declaration thunders through all of creation, ricocheting off trees and mountains, echoing in vales and under waves, and carried on the wings of birds:
You are My masterpiece. My workmanship. My poiēma/poem. You are My work of art.
If you’re like me, most days you feel like anything but a masterpiece. Thankfully how we feel about ourselves diminishes in no way our identity, our worth, or our value as was built into us when God made the masterpiece-you/the masterpiece-me.
As the masterpiece-you, here are a few things to note:
A masterpiece
takes time to create in order to capture all the details and intricacies—how it appears at the beginning is nothing compared to how it will look in the end;
is a one-of-a-kind, unique work of art—it may be imitated but never can it be duplicated;
is precious and of extreme value to the artist primarily because it’s the culmination of the artist’s love, skills, creativity and hard work poured out into the piece;
cannot create itself, what it will turn out to be is as it is predetermined and manifested by the artist;
points to the artists’ talent while evoking inspiration to those viewing it; and,
is almost always on display.
You’re a work of art on display in this world for God’s glory. You’re the living canvas on which the master Artist, the genius Creator is producing a work of art. And He’s devoted to His artistry in you simply because He loves you with His don’t-want-anything-in-return kind o’ love.
Shabbat Shalom. May you live assuredly in knowing that you’re a masterpiece, created by God unto good works and that He absolutely adores you.
Life is a fight. A good fight. We go through the extremes—the ascent of ups and the declivity of downs. Though we don’t choose what we go through in life, we can choose how we go through it and who we go through it with.
One thing fighters have is a corner—fighters get support—they don’t fight alone.
We are not meant to be alone.
So, who are you going through life with?
You need others to help you, and you need to help others.
Who is in your corner?
Your “corner” is your support system. And your support system is built on relationships.
Yes it’s a risk. Relationships are messy. They’re complicated. You could get hurt. But, you can minimize the risk by building a support system that is solid.
What does a solid support system look like? It’s one that is:
Based on the right or a common structure. What brought you together (sorority, same age kids)? Are you likeminded? Do you have common values and principles?
Formed before your crisis.
Built on honesty. Can you be vulnerable and not feel judged? Can you be you?
Centered on TRUST. Distinguish between who’s in your circle versus who’s in your corner. Can and will they keep you accountable?
Built around fellowship. How can one know how to support you or celebrate you if you don’t share? Bring your life into the light. However, be selective. With the right people you’ll find fellowship.
Your support system is a beautiful gift. Cherish it.
God is passionate about you because God is passionate about God.
OK … hold on. Before you think I’m saying God is egotistic, because that He is not, let me expound.
God knows who He is. In response to Moses’ question: “Who should I say you are?”, God responds with: “I Am”. I imagine Moses in that moment knitting his brow with that “Uh!?” expression, and God retorting emphatically with: “I Am that I Am”! (Exodus 3:14, KJV)
God is the I Am. But what does that mean?
God knows He is God and that besides Him there is no other. God is in a class by Himself.
Intrinsic to who and what God is as God—and that nobody else is—is His name. That is, embodied in His name is His infinite greatness, His infinite perfection, His infinite worth. And He’s fiercely protective of His name because of what is in His name.
What’s in His name? Everything!
In the name of God the sick find healing and the lame get to walking; the dead come alive and the living live to thrive; blinded eyes are made to see and demons have gotta flee; boisterous waves find calm and troubled souls find balm. In the name of God the weak are made strong and it covers all our wrongs.
God bestows His name, that powerful name, on you—God knows your name! And not just your name but your SURNAME!! He knows it because He Himself surnamed you.
In other words, God has given us His family-name—how intimate is that?! But more than intimate is the inconceivable gift that in surnaming us God has given us His identity and with that comes authority.
Now here’s the clincher: God lavishes His surname/identity on you, even if you do not know Him. He says:
I call you by your name, I surname you, though you do not know me.
God is passionate about YOU. God sees YOU. God knows YOU. God surnames you DAUGHTER. God surnames you SON. You are His. You are highly prized. You are cherished. You are loved. You are wanted. You are worthy. And, you are enough.
Now the question is: Do you know whose you are and who you are?
Not who you are by your birth-certificate name, but whose you are by your intrinsic name. With the same confidence that God knows His name and who He is, He wants you to know your name and who you are.
I will give you a good name, a name of distinction…. I, the Lord, have spoken!
Shadow is mentioned quite frequently in the Bible, and usually in the context of God’s protective presence. Like: being covered with the shadow of God’s hand (Isaiah 51:16); resting in the shadow of the Almighty (Psalm 91:1); being hidden in the shadow of God’s wings (Psalms 17:8); or walking in the shadow of death (Psalms 23:4).
We know a shadow is cast when light cannot penetrate an object. We also know that the shape of an object always determines the shape of its shadow. BUT, the size and shape of the shadow can change. These changes are caused by the position of the light source.
The Bible defines Jesus (the Son) as our light source—the Son is the light of the world (John 8:12). So where we are positioned in relation to the Son determines how the shadow of His protective presence will be cast.
When our shadow falls in front, this means the Son is behind. It’s in those times when we’ll hear His voice behind us saying “go left” or “go right” (Isaiah 30:21). Sometimes God leads from behind.
When our shadow falls behind, then the Son is in front. In those times the Son invites us to follow Him, He leads from in front. (John 10:27)
And then, there are times when our shadow is beside. It’s in those intimate relational moments, those moments when you’re fully aligned to His will and walking in step as friend with friend, that He leads alongside. (Micah 6:8)
Well, what about when your shadow is short and appears under you. Do you know the time of day when this happens? It’s at midday—at the hottest point of the day—that’s when shadows are very short.
It’s in those moments that we are under His wings—hidden, snuggled, protected, surrounded. Those moments when our battles (physical, social, emotional, spiritual) are the hottest that God gathers us up like a hen gathers up her chicks. Those hot-battle moments is what the Psalmist called the “shadow of death”. What you’re going through feels as though it will snuff the life out of you, but it’s only shadow of…, it’s not death.
It is in those shadow-of-death moments when we need physical touch the most. In those moments a voice behind directing is not sufficient. Footprints in the path to follow is not sufficient. Side-by-side is intimate but that too is not sufficient. In all those times you have closeness with the Son. BUT, in the hot-battle moments you need to be held, to be hugged, to be under the banner of His wings, to have the assurance that you’re covered. And that’s when the Son scoops you up into His arms—like a mother bird protecting her young by covering them with her wings—and in so doing only a short shadow of you cradled, nestled in Him is cast.
“He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection.”Psalms 91:4
Shadows cast behind, in front, beside or under depends on the time of day and the seasons. However, in all instances it is the earth, not the light source (sun), that moves.
So it is with the Son, for with Him there is no variation or shifting shadow (James 1:17). We may move, but God is constant and immovable which means we can always find our way back to Him. Where you left Him in the changing seasons or times of your life, is where He will be when you come back to Him.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find peace in the shadow of the Almighty.
As we’re winding down the season of long summer days and about to enter the season of transition, I’m thinking about trees and the transformation they’re preparing to undergo—the stripping, the letting go—and how simultaneously beautiful and haunting that is. And that got me thinking about the life lessons we can learn from trees.
Lesson 1: Be Rooted. Most demons we fight as adults were planted during childhood, the formative years. Be aware of root causes. You can’t change what you don’t know or assess and won’t own. When the dysfunction is known and addressed/being addressed, be grounded in the transformed/transforming you. Roots that are strong enough will help you withstand what life throws at ya.
Lesson 2: Be vulnerable. In climes where seasons change, trees shed their leaves, they leave themselves bare. In the right circumstances and with the right people, let everything that would hinder your transformation fall away. Life seasons will inevitably change and you’ll bloom again, without pretending. When you know you, when you’re rooted in who you are, you can face the world with nothing to hide behind. Know your truth. Speak your truth. Live in your truth.
The trees are about to show us how lovely it is to let the dead things go.
Author Unknown
Lesson 3: Be Pliable. If you can’t or won’t bend, you can and will break. Rigidity leads to breakage while flexibility leaves room for movement.
Have you ever watched a tree dancing in placid-like wind, or flailing about in a storm? Sure, winds sometimes lead to breakage, but more often than not trees that are well rooted and can move in the direction of the wind, bounce back. Be pliable when life’s storm winds blow. You’ve got bouncebackability. Be open to breaking-through.
Some of us think holding on makes us strong; but sometimes it is letting go.
Hermann Hesse, German novelist & poet
Lesson 4: Be photosynthetic. It’s a process of absorbing and releasing. What you take in—either negative or positive—you must also release. The Dead Sea is “dead” because it receives but it doesn’t release, it has no outlet.
Where you are now, is not where you will be. Becoming the best you is transformational and that’s a process of letting go and letting God. God is a good outlet. In fact, I’d say the best. Trust the process, trust God and let your authentic self become uncovered.
Trees are poems that the earth writes upon the sky.
Kahlil Gibran
Lesson 5: Be poetic. You may not know this, but poetry was created in you. God says we are His “workmanship”, created and ordained for good works. The word “workmanship” is a translation from the Greek word “poiēma” from which the English word “poem” is derived. So, who are you not to be poetic when God created you so to be!?
Shabbat Shalom. May you find the courage to be like a tree—a poem in full authenticity—written across your sky!
As NY is under another wave of the Covid-19 pandemic, I’m nostalgic for the good ol’ days. You know, those days:
When you sneezed in public and folks around sweetly whispered “bless you”, not shoot you a disparaging gaze that shouts: “how dare you!”
When you stood in close proximity without terrifyingly pondering: “is he vaccinated? Is she?” Get me outta here!!
When you greeted with bare hugs or handshakes, not from waving at each other 6-feet apart.
When you wore a mask 🎭 to be draped in decadence and mystery, not to hide from a submicroscopic infectious agent that offsets immune systems, and spike temperature, and fog brains, and labor breath, and take life.
When you walked into restaurants and greeters asked: “Do you have a reservation”, not “May I see your vaccination card”.
When “do you wanna go to the movies” meant see you at the theater, not see you in the next room screening Netflix (though I don’t really mind this).
When going to work meant going to the office in a building paid for by employers, not the makeshift office in your kitchen paid for by you!
When blowing out birthday cake candles didn’t send your mind into a subconscious tailspin flashing-neon-yellow warning: ⚠️ MICROSCOPIC AEROSOL PARTICLES BEING EXHALED ⚠️
Who would have thought that in being nostalgic for the good ol’ days, the good ol’ days would be 2019?!
I had just walked into the hotel room in London. I was on my way back to Barbados (where I was stationed at the time), coming from a meeting in Torino, (Turin) Italy.
The TV was already on when I entered the room, but muted. A plane flew into a building but I paid no attention, because clearly it was a movie. I went to change to a news station as I always do when I arrive a new location, and realized the TV was already on BBC. I turned to CNN. CNN was playing the same ‘movie’. I turned on the volume. By now it was evident that the US was under attack. Newscasters were fighting to keep composure. This was no movie.
My sister was living in NY at the time. I called. No answer. I called a minute after and her line was down. I called my mom, who lives in Florida, the line was down.
I went to the hotel lobby and it seems every guest had the same idea. We all huddled by the TVs. When the second plane flew into the second tower the entire lobby exclaimed in simultaneous horror.
All flights were grounded. I was to stay in London for longer than a night layover, as was planned.
It turned out my sister was ok.
But not so for almost 3000 souls that were lost that fateful day, and the thousands of lives that have been shattered and left reeling from this inconceivable loss.
America or the world has not been ok since.
9/11 is forever etched in my mind as the day evil was personified.
Let’s never forget—not the day, not the lives lost and not what that day taught. 9/11 also showed that there’s more that bring us together than that divide us.
T-shirts are arguable the most functional piece of clothing in our closets. More recently I’ve come across Tees used as signposts for thoughts/feelings/stance on a range of issues making them artistic creative statement apparels.
Statements like:
Unapologetically dope
I never lose, I either win or I learn
Periodt. [oh yeah, when the “t” is added (“periodt”), you know no further discussion will be tolerated]
I’m not for everyone
I love the skin I’m in
Classy but thou shalt not try me. Mood 3:65 [I really like this one, it’s feisty with a nod to “commandment”-level caution/warning]
You want my rhythm?! You gotta take my blues.
Black lives matter
So it seems whether solidarity or protest, whether reclaiming space or questioning narratives, the messages we champion on our chests can contribute to how we’re understood in the world.
Particularly when you’re part of any group that has been OTHERED in the mainstream, the message on a T-shirt is one way to articulate a point without a direct action (like the caveat to start what may otherwise be a difficult conversation).
Whether challenging racial inequality or promoting body positivity or questioning gender inequities, when you can mirror what you think/feel (emotional level) with words prominently worn on your chest/close to your heart (aesthetic level), it’s as if your WHOLE self culminates in your fashion choice.
In a State where anyone has the freedom and the right to openly carry guns in public without a permit or training…
In a State where everyone has the freedom and right not to wear masks, though there are well over three MILLION Covid cases and almost 58 THOUSAND deaths…
According to law, ANY pregnancy in which a heartbeat is detected cannot be aborted.
And it goes further to effectively incentivizes the public to police abortions.
In that same State where one cannot, by law, require someone to wear a face covering to save life, you can, by law, EARN a $10,000 award for any successful lawsuit to stop an abortion.
This has led to the widening schism across religious, moral, political and practical beliefs; between Republicans and Democrats; between pro-choice (those who believe that everyone has the basic human right to decide when and whether to have children) and pro-life (those who oppose abortion).
I wonder 🤔 — how different would this be if men could get pregnant and carry babies ….
One of the good-good gifts of The Most High God—is NATURE—which I’d like to share with you in this short video clip (below) and photo montage (above) with one intent: to bless you as I’m blessed.
👆This is a short video clip from my seat on a rock by the river Inspired by AuthorWorld writing prompt based on this image, the title is nature.
Caught on the bridge when the earthquake struck, Desmona clings to lose cables, her body dangling precariouslyabove the field of debris scattered across the sea below. Marshaling all her strength, she pulls herself up when suddenly the cable…
Cliffhanger. Yes, I know I’ve left you dangling (pun intended😊). That’s ‘cause I’m writing for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt—the word is marshal, the length 39 words. Also for Author World image and title, the bridge; Fandango’s One Word Challenge—field; and Ragtag Daily prompt—scattered.
If creativity is indeed intelligence having fun, as the wise Albert Einstein surmised, then what does the creative process looks like.
Well, for one—it’s messy!
But I recently read a HuffPost article which listed 18 things that highly creative people do differently. I post them here because I can relate and based on what I’ve seen from those whose blogs I’m interacting with, y’all would likely concur. So here goes:
Us creatives:
Daydream
Observe
Work the hours that work for us
Take me time/seek solitude
People-watch
Turn life’s obstacles around/“lemonade” makers
Ask the “big” questions/insatiably curious
Fail up—we got bouncebackability
Seek out new experiences
Take risks
Lose track of time
Surround with beauty
Shake things up/diversity
Self-express
Follow true passion
Make time for mindfulness
Imagine not just present but future, not just ours but others
Connect the dots/see possibilities/vision
Creativity is just connecting things. When you ask creative people how they did something, they feel a little guilty because they didn’t really do it, they just saw something. It seemed obvious to them after a while. That’s because they were able to connect experiences they’ve had and synthesize new things.
To say that there’s a lot of sadness around us, is an understatement. And sometimes joy may be found in the simplest of things and in the most unexpected places like with these two fairy penguins looking over the Melbourne skyline.
Widowed penguins appear to comfort each other in nightly embrace
The lighter penguin is an elderly female whose partner died this year. The darker one is a younger male who lost his partner two years ago. Biologists have followed them as they meet every night to comfort each other. They stand for hours together watching the lights.
Photographer Tobias Baumgaertner captured this image of two widowed fairy penguins looking over the Melbourne skyline. It has won an award in Oceanographic magazine’s Ocean Photography Awards 2020
This story made my heart smile. Sometimes all we need is a hug. Or someone to be there just because—no words, just be there. Or maybe you can be that someone for someone else.
Before-word: As I’m spending more time building this blog, I’ve been thinking a lot about writing—the art of writing and the power of the written word. I love to write. And chances are if you’re on this site, you’re a blogger which means you also love to write. Or, you’re here because you love to read. Either way, I hope you enjoy this short piece where I share the reasons why I write and the value I place on the written word. As well as a poem along the same theme, “Writing Is”.
To as far back as I can remember, I wrote what I could not or wished not to vocally express. Words help me unlock what I think and feel subconsciously. And, writing is the process through which I can harmonize and connect my mind (inner thoughts and feelings) with lived experiences.
Writing is a powerful tool—it can create, influence, inform, and communicate. In fact, I’d say it’s arguably the best connector. Writing connects us to each other and it connects stories, experiences and cultures across time and space. When you read the writings of a writer from eons past, for instance, it allows you into her/his mind and into the experiences of that period. In this way writing transcends time.
Writing allows for creative self-expression reflective of the state we’re in. Ideas and experiences change as we grow and what’s once written can be updated with our evolved thoughts, expounding on the past and being influenced by the present.
Because the written word immortalizes thoughts and feelings, as a writer I know I must be authentic. Authenticity requires vulnerability, transparency and truth—first to myself and then to the subject at hand. And writing in this way requires bravery. Bearing all of this in mind when I write, gives my voice a trustworthy platform that I hope readers discern.
When all is said and done though, I write for this one reason: so that my voice does not die within me unexpressed and unheard!
There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you. Maya Angelou
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An invader from a world outside the Milkyway Galaxy.
A world where life—as they knew it—was dying fast and invasion and thievery became their only raison d’etat.
Donned in earthly attire, he was accepted by the keepers of Earth Sun as an “investigator”.
And why not, for with his fedora and trench coat he fitted in seamlessly with the investigators of the Federal Bureau of Invasion Protection.
Under the guise of what we now know was his false investigative report that the Earth Sun was decreasing the stratospheric ozone around Earth’s polar regions, the FBI-P handed over to him the emergency reset lasso.
At the time of twilight—that time between sunset and full night.
That time when the light from the sky is produced by the diffusion of sunlight through the atmosphere and its dust.
Yes, at that exact time, which coincidentally aligned to that time when the Earth was closest to Earth Sun, he unleashed the lasso.
Designed to travel to exactly 94.192 million miles at the speed of light it reached its mark.
He released the octopus-like tentacles of the lasso and voila, he trapped Earth Sun.
As he yanked Earth Sun out of orbit, pulling her closer to Earth, clouds turned an eerie grey and Earth’s core bubbled to the surface in ball-size piles of molten rocks.
With the effortless ease with which he trampled the heated rocks, step by hefty step, the FBI-P realized.
But, alas, too late.
Deployed forces saw only the grey fedora, which matched the quickly emerging grey clouds, as it crisscrossed its way in a free fall to the ground.
At just the moment it hit the now sweltering ground, the FBI-P forces saw only the back of the terrorist as he escaped the Milky Way Galaxy with Earth Sun in tow.
My nephew is on the cusp of turning three years old. But from the grammatically correct sentence structures that seamlessly flow from his lips and the accompanying appropriate facial expressions and gesticulations you would be hard pressed not to think he’s 5 years or older.
So mature are his utterances and mannerisms his father, my brother, can only retort with a shrug of his shoulder: “He’s as old as dirt”. And his mom in admiration and delight would rhetorically utter: “Where does he come up with this stuff?!”
So there’s a game he plays with me. Out of the blue, sometimes in close proximity, other times I hear his cute voice calling out from wherever he is when the urge comes on to play his game and he shouts out:
“Aunty, I need your help!”
And I’d call back:
“Nephew, how can I help you?”
This goes on for a few rounds. He does his call out and I’d respond. And we do this back and forth word dance till he decides the game is over.
Then once over dinner, mid-chew, he’s at it again:
“Aunty, I need your help!”
I thought I’d outwit him. Instead of my usual response, I turned it back to him:
“Nephew, I need your help!”
Do you know what this kid did?!
Without the batting of an eyelid or skipping a beat, he retorted with a straight face:
“I’m eating!”
And just like that —he. shut. it. down!!!!
We all burst out in simultaneous laughter with “he’s as old as dirt” and “I don’t know where he comes up with this stuff” voicing from his adoring parents.
Kids! They do say the darnedest things, don’t they?!
Sabbath and tithing are two biblical principles. Both appear paradoxical or self-contradictory on the surface. And, both are associated with blessings.
Paradoxical and a blessing? How? Both are based on you giving up a portion of what you have a finite amount of on the basis of faith in a God who will bless you abundantly above what you had before you gave.
There’s no mystical hocus-pocus here. Rather, it’s one of the great paradoxes and a guiding principle in the economy of God: If you try to hold on to all of your resources, you may not have enough. When you give some of what you have over to God, you invariable end up with more than you need.
Let me give a personal take on this. When I don’t seem to have enough hours in the week and yet I set aside the Sabbath day for rest and worship, I’m still able to accomplish the tasks at hand. It’s not that more hours are added to my week, obviously not. But by virtue of deciding to honor the Sabbath—in spite of the heavy demands on my time—I’m saying to God: I’m honoring You and giving You rulership/Lordship over my time. Much the way I do with my money.
As a result, my perspective and priorities change. A rested mind generates better ideas. But more importantly, I make decisions on how to manage my time on the wisdom of God instead of being driven and informed by the stressful circumstances of life.
Tithing is the principle of setting aside a specific amount of our increase for a specific purpose. Celebrating Sabbath is an opportunity to make a conventional offering to the Lord—the offering of the most precious resource that we have in life—time.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find the blessings in setting aside/tithing a portion (24 hours) of your week-time in Sabbath rest and worship.
I’m a big fan of David. The David of the Bible. Yes, that prolific spoken word artist who was also a master harpist, a warrior King and a murderous adulterer.
So bloody were the hands of David from warding off assailants while he fled a jealous crazed king and from wars he waged to secure his rule when he himself became king, that God forbade him to build the famed temple of Jerusalem (first built in 957 BC).
Yet and in spite of all this, when God described David, He didn’t look at the externals. Instead God said, I sought after David because he’s “a man after my own heart” (1 Samuel 13:14).
It’s no wonder, because David was all heart. Whether he fought or he loved, whether he schemed or he wrote, he was 100% heart.
The record we have of David’s life showed that he never really had a season of peace. For much of his early adulthood he was fending off attempts on his life by a wildly out of control king. Then when he became king, he was constantly warding off attacks on his kingdom. Yet amidst the tumultuous times of his life, David wrote.
He wrote poetic lines like: “commune with your own heart and be still” (Psalm 4:4).
In other words, rest in stillness and undertake/arrest your thoughts in awareness.
If David could find mindfulness—to be in a state of active, open, intentional attention on the present—while all around him is unrest, then certainly so can we.
I’d like to share just 3 lessons I’m learning on this journey to living in the moment:
Being intentional to stop doing and focus on just being. Writing is one way to help me do that.
Knowing that I am not my thoughts. I try to observe my thoughts without judging them and this way I don’t get lost in my mind and I’m able to appreciate the living present.
This I know to be true: worrying about the future and ruminating about what’s past is one sure way to squander what precious moments I am granted in life.
“I have known a great many troubles”, said Mark Twain, “but most of them never happened” he concluded.
Shabbat Shalom. What better day than today—Sabbath—to rest in stillness. Give your mind a break from the rat race of this week.
Delilah exhaled in exacerbation. Exhausted, and left with no more words of defense, she stomped out angrily into the court yard.
Pacing aimlessly back and forth, muttering to herself:
“How can they say these things about me?”
“I did this for my people!”
Caught up in ruminating, Delilah didn’t see the crowd growing about her in the courtyard. Her inner castigating jolted to a halt when Martha, who was always jealous of her relationship with Samson, screamed vehemently at her:
“You did this to him! You evil, conniving little witch!”
Delilah felt the extremity of Martha’s hatred and disgust.
“Out with his eyes! Out with his eyes!”
Turning in the direction of the angry mob, Delilah dashed back into the inner court, forcing her way through the crowd that had thickened around Samson. She got to Samson just as the soldier who had given her the small red drawstring purse with 30 pieces of silver, extracted his second eye.
Blinded by loyalty over love, she had blinded the man of her affections. There was no way to redeem herself from this deception. Martha was right to bring this calumny against her.
Cuba, trade embargoed, locked in a time capsule History inextricably linked Revolution with antique, vintage, classicIconic as cigars and Che GuevaraCruising along the Malecón broad esplanadeGliding majestically through narrow winding streets of HavanaShimmering like bright vintage jewels, kaleidoscopic colors floating byParked strategically, juxtaposed to gorgeous ornate buildingsCombined 100s of years—a living car museum Cuba, proud island of yesterday’s carsCruising around Havana in a 1960-something Chevy
I came across 12 Bloggerz! hosted by Rory. Rory you asked 12 great questions but one really jumped out at me. So, I’ll answer only that one because it aligned so strongly to something that is integral to who I am—my faith and being a Christian.
This is the question: How would you feel if everything you didn’t believe in today turned out to be true – which of your new disbeliefs now truths would affect you the most profoundly?
But also answer this question from the opposite spectrum as in –
How would you feel if everything you believed in today turned out to be false – would this affect you and if so which falsehood that you hold now true would affect you the most profoundly?
I’m a Christian. I’ve questioned things in the Bible. I’ve stripped down my faith to the bare ‘bone’ and built it up again just on the basis of who God has been to me. Not on theology and doctrine, but on a living faith. A faith in a God who grants me goodness and mercy every day of my life. Even in the hardest and saddest of times, I’ve experienced His goodness and love and walked in His mercy and grace. Now I KNOW that I know.
Turning now to answering Rory’s question: if it turns out that there is no God and no rapture and no heaven, living my life by biblical Christian principles in a world of “alternative facts” and intense hopelessness and despair would still be worth it. And I’d choose to live this way again and again because it affords me a joy and peace to live life in all its dimensions—the good, the bad, and the in-between.
I like how Pascal lays it out in his Pensées—as a wager: If I believe that God exists and I live by His principles, there is only a finite loss (like the “pleasures” of the world I choose to abstain from), but I will gain infinite blessings such as life after death. However, if I believe that God does not exist and He actually does, then my loss is infinite in that there is a life after death that I would have forfeited for finite gains.
My wager: I chose to believe that God is real, the rapture is real, and heaven is real. And, that when this life is over, it is not the end, I shall live again. This gives me immense HOPE—there’s got to be more than this life.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find contentment in your faith.
Noise, light, smoke Exploding overhead Colored flames and sparks Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, silver, goldShooting up, spiraling around, drifting down Displays varying in size and designFireworks light up the New York sky New York, once the epicenter of the Covid-19 pandemic reopens in grandeur
Paint in Ode to
NEW YORK CITY!
NEW YORK IS BACK!!!
You may like this tribute to NY written while she was paralyzed and completely locked down by Covid-19.
Before I understood the true meaning and the blessings of the Sabbath, it was more like an arduous religious ritual observance. And as an adolescent, I recall at the end of just about every Sabbath I came down with a terrible migraine headache.
Research on the anthropology and psychology of religion have confirmed the psychological impact and mental health implications of ritual observance.
Sabbath is not about rituals or a litany of restrictive dos and don’ts. Sabbath was intended to help people, not burden them.
The Bible says it best: Sabbath was made for man and not the other way around (Mark 2:27). Meaning the sabbath was made for our good, and not our hurt. For the good of our souls (spiritual, mental, psychological renewal); for the good of our bodies (physical rest and restoration); for the good of our communities (connecting families, friends, society); and for the good of our world (socially, culturally, environmentally).
The world is US. Therefore, what we do at the individual level has a ripple effect. I believe God’s intent behind the Sabbath was to heal the world/us and keep it/us healthy.
Imagine if each week there’s the opportunity to recenter ourselves; to reconnect with family and friends; to truly REST; to have dedicated-unrushed worship time to commune with the Divine God; and, to truly understand and appreciate the connection between Sabbath-keeping and nature. Well, that is what Sabbath is! And it is accessible to each of us.
This kind of transformation at the personal level over time would have a profound healing effect on the world.
Scientific and empirical research prove that when we set aside the ritualistic approach to Sabbath, we open ourselves up to holistic health benefits that can contribute to our well-being as individuals.
The benefits include longevity (up to 10 years added to lifespan); few deadly diseases; more healthy years of life; better mental health; and, better physical health.
However, Sabbath was never intended to be about me, the individual, but about US, the community. The celebration of sabbath should synchronize us with others—me>> family>> friends>> community>> society>> earth—for a ripple effect of transformation.
Shabbat Shalom. May you find the spiritual, psychological, social, physical, cultural, and environmental health benefits of Sabbath for yourself and your community at large.
Live your life embracing YOU in your entirety—your scars, what you think of as your flaws, and your brokenness. These are what make you YOU. Distinct. Different. And, flawsomely YOUnique.
You’ll find that it’s in the midst of your weakest and unsure moments that God does His most profound work in you. After all, your areas of weakness or insecurity are just the opportunities for Him to show off His strength in you!
We know that God established Sabbath as a day of rest at the end of the 7-day week. On the 6th day human beings were created. So clearly there wasn’t much work, if any at all, for humankind to do between them being created and Sabbath rest being instituted. So, if not to rest from work, what then was the purpose of that very first sabbath? And what can that teach us about sabbath rest today?
Imagine that you’re Adam or Eve. It’s Friday and you came to know yourself and to meet the One who created you. And together with your Creator you start to explore the vastness of your garden-home. You are enveloped in nature. You go off to sleep with wonderment and immense joy and wake up just as blissful with jubilant expectation to see what else the Creator has to reveal of His eARTh. And He bids you “good morning, welcome to your first Sabbath!” He invites you to explore and reflect on all He did for you despite you having done nothing. He invites you to receive Sabbath grace.
Grace, simply defined in Christian theology, is a favor given to us by God only on the basis that He desires for us to have it, not because of anything we have done to earn it (i.e. it’s unmerited).
Nature is one way grace is demonstrated. We did nothing to have received the gift of nature. All its wonder and splendor is the grace that Sabbath affords us to reflect on.
Join me on this pictorial ode to nature, journeying through Arizona:
Surveying the incisions that over time water has cut into the plateau revealing layer after layer of rock in hues so red to influence the naming of Sedona, Arizona—Red Rock Country.Whether you look to the left or the right, your eyes will land on stunning red rock vistas.Determined to climb to the highest level of the Bell Rock to bask in the earth’s energy from the vortex, I often got down on all fours.There she is in her full splendor, the Bell Rock, as only can be fully appreciated from above in a helicopter ride over … I hiked that! Getting re-centered in a circle of cairns at the 1st level of the Bell Rock vortex. Vortex is a concentrated area of energy rising up from the earth. If you’re sensitive enough to the surrounds, you do feel the energy. Nature equally awes in the Grand Canyon with massive boulders so precise and grandiose ……and mountain ranges flat like a table top juxtaposed to ragged-edged peaks draped in golden sunlight. No trip to the Grand Canyon is complete without a roadside encounter with the wild life whether grazing lazily along the highway…… or skillfully scaling rock faces. These sheep mountaineers blend seamlessly into their environment. Had this enchanting encounter while hiking the Bright Angel Trail in …… the Grand Canyon. Arizona also boasts plants flowering in arid landscapes … … and bigger-than-life cactus growing wild……or tamed for exterior decor. We often think of grace in the context of Jesus’ death on the cross. This crucifix hangs in the Chapel of the Holy Cross, one of the strongest vortex sites (there are 4 vortexes in Sedona). The Chapel of the Holy Cross, built in between 2 towering red rock formations in Sedona is the perfect place to sit in quiet reflection of all of nature surrounding you while gazing up on the embodiment of grace—an image of Christ hanging from a cross.
In every direction throughout Arizona there is the beauty of the natural wonders of nature, and this too is a reminder of the grace of Sabbath.
Shabbat Shalom. May you experience the grace of the Sabbath in nature today and every day.
The sun sets on my time in Arizona, blanketing the horizon over the Grand Canyon.
It’s almost 6 months to the day today, I was feeling the sickest I’ve ever felt and an ER doctor confirmed what I dreaded—I had contracted the novel corona virus. I shared that experience in “I Survived Covid-19: Gratefully Surrendered”
I recall the days when I found it difficult to breathe, and the days I had to exercise my lungs with an incentive breathing exerciser.
A couple weeks ago I ran up hills and climbed steep paths with the vigor that defied months of extreme post-Covid fatigue.
And for this I AM GRATEFUL!
While I remain grateful, I’m most aware that there are millions who didn’t survive the virus, and millions of others left behind to mourn their passing, to mourn the loss, to mourn the finality of death.
Never taking life for granted, but living in gratitude and with empathy!
A collection of writing by Dominic Riccitello — intimate conversations, personal essays, and poetic reflections on relationships, loss, and self-discovery.
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