I love everything about this #acrylic #painting by @cococooksglamah the #colors are #vibrant and #beautiful and the #texture is #dimensional #ineed #iwant this #art
I hate this hashtag #ILoveMeSomeMe and I hate hearing someone say the words, āI love me.ā Why? Well, true self-love doesnāt require all of that. What they are really saying isĀ āI indulge me,ā because off-line Iāve seen the excess of clothing and things, on-line Iāve seen the excess of food/new hair/new shoes/new car, etc. photos. Sometimes I just want to ask is this all that fulfills you and makes you feel good about you. And then I think, nah.Ā
Self-love is complicated and hard work. Self-love cannot be measured in pretty clothing, exotic trips, expensive things. Self-love is everything but selfish and self-indulgent. Itās a sacrificial gift that is also a necessity.Ā
This past week was challenging on so many levels. Some wonderful things happened, but I found it interesting that the one not-so wonderful thing was one the challenge that made me sayĀ āyesā to me. It went down like this: Someone confronted me and instead of arguing with them or fighting back in a manner that would be comfortable for them, I decided in a nanosecond to accept the confrontation as an exit strategy that led directly to my freedom. It was worth it to me, my long-term health and my peace to simply let them feel vindicated. I said yes to me; I made a decision in my own favor.Ā
That one moment and decision enabled me to glean so much more. It was like the floodgates opened and life - cooperative or not - commenced me forward. I told a friend this week has been like a graduation. I passed my greatest test and could now move forward. Some very unexpected things happened as a result but then again that is exactly what saying yes to you does - it brings bounty and blessings. And if youāre mindful of the grace inherent in saying yes to you, then you will also consider all of the other ways you should say yes to youā¦
Like this retreat in Oak Bluffs on Marthaās Vineyard.
One Sunday morning, I woke up, got myself properly dressed in pretty church-going attire and walked up the street and around the way to a Baptist church in my neighborhood. I was a teenager and that was a revolutionary act in my household of non-churchgoers. In those days, almost everyone walked to church because they went to church in the neighborhood and not way out in the āburbs. So I just fell into step with the people I knew but in my heart I was on my own. I understood so little about black church life, traditions and customs, I was on my own and it was okay.
I settled into a pew and watched what others did and replicated it as best as possible. The only thing I didnāt do was put extra money in the second envelope passed to me and thatās only because Iād put all of my change into the basket. As the choir sang about the third or fourth selection, the sanctuary became ālively.ā My soul wasnāt stirred, it was only curious. Why were these people so ecstatic and jubilant? Somehow I missed that moment of shift in their atmosphere untilā¦
This super tall woman jumped up in the choir stand and made a mad dash for the floor and ran around that church so fast, multiple times and screaming at the top of her lungs. āThank you, Jesus! Thank youā¦ā I was freakinā fascinated with this Jesus and that personās gratitude. No one else was running around the sanctuary. My curiosity and truly childlike wonder must have registered on my face, because one of the people next to me on the pew said, āThat sissy needs to sit down somewhere!ā
Thus, my introduction to two types of church folks. The gay men and women who suffer silently and only acts of rebellion in those stuffy, crazy environments is the occasional outburst of jubilance and several mad dashes around the sanctuary. The sanctuary: the place where all should feel safe. The other type of church folk? The mean people who come for whatever their reasons but the lessons of the love of Jesus are somehow lost on them. They canāt hear, they donāt extend it, and they wouldnāt recognize the love of the Savior if he walked up to them with a glass of water.
My initiation would be played out many times over and varying iterations during my lifetime. One of the last being at a church I voluntarily joined (and left), where the pastor called up an elder and asked him to give his testimony about being a reformed homosexual. The same pastor also asked two women if they were still engaged sexually in front of the congregation. He asked a man who had come up to the altar for prayer if he was a āfaggot.ā Thinking I misheard, he repeated it and confirmed that he had indeed said it.
Another time, I revisited that Baptist church in my neighborhood with a gay friend, who introduced me to his aunts as his āgirlfriend.ā I was involuntarily a beard to him and other gay male friends who were not brave enough to be authentic in their churches. NaĆÆve, I would question why they continued to belong to churches that mistreated them and didnāt regard them as worthy of Jesusā love. I donāt remember the answers but I reconciled that I was never wed to the tradition and could easily walk away from that type of abuse.
I have a name for that abuse: A Sunday kind of love. Even when Etta James describes it in song, it is a love that is basically mean and based on someone elseās warped terms. It is a love that is not fully realized or even love.
Etta sings,
āI wanna a love thatās on the square
Canāt seem to find somebody, someone to care
And Iām on a lonely road that leads to nowhere
I need a Sunday kind of loveā¦ā
For years, I idealized what love should sound like, feel like and be on Sunday mornings in the sanctuary. I informed that Sunday kind of love from reading scripture, talking to elders, and praying. Iām pretty smart, so while reading the bible I made note that the behavior Iād witnessed towards gays in many black churches was anything but love, and certainly not the love of Jesus Christ. In following his example, I didnāt read where I was to make fun of, berate, demean, humiliate and mistreat anyone at all. I do recall, however, reading where he created new buttholes for those who demeaned, humiliated, exploited, mistreated and made fun of others in the name of God. That part was glaringly obviousā¦to me.
Etta sings,
āAnd my arms need someone, someone to enfold
To keep me warm when Mondays and Tuesdays grow cold
Love for all my life to have and to hold
Oh, and I wanna Sunday kind of love, oh yeah yeah yeahā¦ā
Two days after the Supreme Courtās decision, 11 days after the Emanuel church murders, and tons of days/weeks/years after countless other changes ā some good, most not-so good āand it is Sunday. It is another Sunday.
My bet is that many black preachers will be echoing the words of the president who is not a preacher as he eulogized a preacher who had been martyred and murdered. āAmazing Graceā will be an A through Z selection. And then there will be thoseā¦
There will be those preachers who will hold up the bible and say that they stand by it in regard to the Supreme Courtās decision. They will say that they are doing it in the name of the Supreme Most High God. They will moan and groan and talk about the end times, and how the Rapture is imminent. They will pull out the same Old Testament verses about men lying with men, because honestly, thatās all theyāve got and it is often stated out of context. I digressā¦
They will talk about the destruction of the United Statesā¦but they will not talk about Barack Obama though he is, in part, the reason why that decision happened. They will not condemn Godās second cousin Barack. Some will be plotting their civil disobedience, and Iām not certain how that will play out, because the logical thing (to me) would have been to practice it BEFORE the decision or to use the energy to feed, house, and clothe people.
All of this will happen on Sunday and in many black churches nationwide. And they will do and say all of that and end it withā¦
āā¦but I love you anyway.ā
The loose translation will be, āI love with a Sunday kind of love.ā
As a middle aged black woman who is single with no children, I sorely commiserate with anyone who craves, desires and who requires love. I commiserate with those who want the comfort and security of love, and the very practical sides of that love. For example, health benefits, extra income, burial and death ārights,ā and the right to legally care for and be cared for by anyone of my choosing. I also know love is hard to come by. Very hard to come by. Ā No one should be alone (versus lonely) without love and loving kindness ...
Many of those churches ending pontifications with āā¦but I love you anywayā are not set up to care for its elderly, its orphans, or its infirmed. But I betcha they have a beautiful and functional sanctuary. I bet the pastor is comfortable. I bet there is even a quarterly bus trip to the casinos and shopping outlets in the next state over. I betā¦
Etta sings,
āI donāt wanna Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday
Or Thursday, Friday or Saturday
Oh, nothing but Sunday, oh yeah yeah
I wanna Sunday, Sunday, I wanna Sunday kind of love, oh yeah
Sunday, Sunday, Sunday kind of loveā¦ā
So to the āsissyā in the choir loft, ministers of music, ushers, trustees, chicken fryers who have settled for that Sunday kind of love, I say, go and get your love. Go and get the love that accepts you and not merely tolerates you because youāve tirelessly served a Sunday kind of love. Receive some freedom and healing and go out and get the love of Jesus, the real love of Jesus that will advocate on your behalf and empower you to be loved properly, righteously, and genuinely. He didnāt like that Sunday kind of love either. He said it wasnāt love. And he never ended any of his sentences with ābut I love you anyway.ā
He loves you above all and throughout the entire week.
SupportĀ @PaulaPennNabrit and Telos Training in their #FoodJustice efforts
Father's Day is Sunday, June 21! If you Shop at AmazonSmile you can make Dad Smile AND support Telos Training, Inc.Ā
Click and shop thru this link, http://smile.amazon.com/ch/45-3762763, and Amazon will donate to Telos Training, Inc. Help fight food deserts at The Charles Madison Nabrit Memorial Garden-here's last year's video,http://bit.ly/1A74Wr0 . This year we're trying to buy a Greenhouse, Pergola & Fruit Trees so thanks for your help!
.@LisaNCarson We love you, girl and @essencemag for this feature #WCW
We cannot wait to read the feature Woman, Interrupted: Lisa Nicole Carson Opens Up About her Struggle With Bipolar DisorderĀ in Essenceās July 2015 issue. Weāve missed her, she is one of our favoriteĀ āall of this and thatā girls and someone we just plain loved and cared about as a celebrity. Here is an excerpt of that interview.
Reality Checkout
After the incident at the hotel, I was in utter shock. I had thought I had it all together since people typically came to me for advice. But there I was. Professionally, I was on top of the world, and then I had the rug ripped out from under me. If I had been seeing a psychiatrist or a therapist before the breakdown, maybe somebody would have been able to detect that I was off balance. Nobody close to me had a clue, and neither did I. During my stay in the hospital, I was given medicine to stabilize my moods, and I spoke with a therapist. Upon being discharged, I returned to Los Angeles and went back to work on Ally McBeal feeling more in control. Everybody on the show was wonderful to me, but my contract wasnāt renewed for the final season. Nobody gave me an explanation, but I assumed it had to do with what had happened. I was devastated.
You can read the rest HERE and tweet @LisaNCarson to let her know sheās loved.Ā
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