When Everything Goes Wrong... and Then Somehow Goes Right 😅

Heyyyy,

I wanna share a funny story—well, kind of a funny story. 😅

Recently, I lost all the cards in my wallet. Moreso, my toddlers took all of my cards out of my wallet and placed them somewhere yet to be found. 🙃 Thankfully, I still have my driver’s license, but everything else is who knows where. I’ve been relying heavily on Apple Pay until all my new cards come in the mail. I’ll refrain from mentioning how long it took me to order new cards—but that’s beside the point. 😂

Apple Pay has been getting me through. But recently, my phone’s screen cracked. It was fine at first, but then a few days ago, my phone stopped allowing me to maneuver at all. With my cards coming in the mail next week, and me not having other forms of payment, I knew I needed to prioritize getting my phone fixed before I couldn’t use Apple Pay AT ALL.

My mom had already planned to come over to watch the kids yesterday morning so I could do some much-needed grocery shopping (because taking 5 small kiddos into a store is a feat right now 💪🏽). I decided to go by my cell phone service provider and get a new phone before grabbing all of our groceries.

Well, that morning, my oldest daughter woke up with a stomach bug. 🤒 I decided to take my two boys with me while my mom kept a close eye on my sick daughter and my two other girls.

My boys and I hopped in the car only to realize that I was on E.

Like, “how are we even still rolling?” E.

I drove to Costco to get gas—because where else ought one to buy gas? ⛽ All the while, my 7-year-old kept warning me that we could get stranded. (He wasn’t wrong.)

We barely made it—but we did. 🙌🏽 Only to discover that although I could use Apple Pay, I couldn’t press the one icon to get my digital Costco card.

Not too worried, I decided to go across the street to my cell phone service provider and go ahead and get things squared away with a new phone.

I walked into the store and was met quickly by a store rep—thank God. 🙏🏽 After a few questions, he asked me to pull out my I.D.

I stared at him blankly.

😳 I had left my ID on top of my husband’s dresser back at the house.

The store rep, in a professionally polite cold sort of way, assured me that nothing could be done without my I.D.

After hearing that news, I sat down—holding my two-year-old—and stared out the window for a good three minutes while my seven-year-old kept asking if my phone was fixed yet. I needed to process.

No one knew just how much it took me to get to that store. I had tried, unsuccessfully, multiple times that week to get there—and here I was, still without a phone and unsure if I still had time to do my 2–3 hour grocery run (something I look forward to every two weeks). 😞

I grabbed my broken phone and walked to the car. Thankfully, there was another gas station across the street where I could get gas.

Before getting out of the car to pump, I had the unction to stop moving and pray.

I’ve had these moments several times before—the ones where I feel myself in problem-solving mode, moving too fast, and forgetting to surrender… to take a second to sit in my Father’s lap and ask Him for help.

So I did. 🙏🏽

In a span of about thirty seconds, I told the Lord my frustrations—through a bit of watery eyes 😭—and asked Him to show me whatever He wanted me to do. I was also hungry and tired, lol, which you know doesn’t always help. 😅

I got out of the car and began pumping gas—just grateful that this gas station accepted Apple Pay.

While walking back and forth, waiting for the gas to finish pumping, a thought popped into my head:

➡️ Go to Costco.
➡️ Stand in line to get a temporary Costco card.
➡️ Do all of my grocery shopping there.
➡️ Go back that night—once the kids were asleep—and finally get my phone fixed.

I immediately felt hopeful. 💫

My boys and I went grocery shopping, and in a turn of events, my husband called. When I told him, he immediately went into “fix-it” mode (something I so love when I need it), and said he’d bring my ID since he wasn’t far from home. 😍

In short:

✅ I got the groceries.
✅ I divinely ran into a former neighbor I’d been meaning to visit.
✅ I got my upgraded phone—in record timing. 🙌🏽📱

So why in the world am I sharing all these details?!

Y’ALL.

I’m learning to stop exhausting myself trying to ram through blockades in my own strength. 💥 Most of the time, those blockades were never meant for me to tear down.

I mentioned in a previous blog post how the Lord is teaching me the way of ease—which, for this ambitious gal who tends to choose hard for no reason, is a whole lesson. 😅

I pray this weekend and this upcoming week you lean on the Lord and lay down any worries you’re carrying in your own strength.

SURRENDER and YIELD.

It could look as simple as saying:
"Lord, I give in. You take control. I’ll yield to Your perfect will and choose not to worry about the results."

💛

With love and a wee bit of laughter,

• Pondered Thought

I Thought I Needed An Elaborate Plan to Spend Alone Time with My Daughter. She Just Needed A 10-Minute Walk with Me: Chronicles of A Mom w/4 Little Ones.

I have four children ages 5-years-old and under. My youngest is currently 4-months-old at the time of this writing.

We currently homeschool.

My husband runs his own business.

We have flexibility.

We spend a ton of time with our kiddos.

Even still, life often feels rushed and busy. I find myself, when the kiddos go to sleep, often wondering if I told them how much I loved them. If I stared into their eyes long enough for them to know that I care. If they picked up on the agitation that I tried so hard to keep under control when the glass broke, the smoothie spilled, and dinner burned. My ritual continues like clockwork every night until I finally remember that I can speak to the Holy Spirit and ask Him for help.

One night, after cooking dinner, helping my husband put the kiddos to sleep, and then cleaning up our downstairs in preparation for the next day, I plopped onto my bed with pen in hand and journal half-opened. I daydreamed for a few minutes until finally asking the Holy Spirit if He had anything to share with me.

Without pause and without dramatic emphasis, the Holy Spirit simply answered, “Spend more one -on-one time with Ada (my 3-year-old daughter).”

I wrote what He said in my journal and fell asleep. I woke up the next morning, barely recalling the spoken word from the night before, until that night again when I plopped on the bed and performed the same routine.

“Holy Spirit, do you have anything to speak?”

“Spend more one-on-one time with Ada.”

This time, the next day, I mentioned to my husband what I’d been sensing. Interestingly, my husband mentioned to me that the Holy Spirit had been telling him the same thing apart from me mentioning anything to him.

With that said, I asked my husband to plan on watching the rest of our kiddos that weekend so that I could take our daughter out for ice cream. I planned on making our daughter feel so seen, so loved, and so celebrated. I wanted to make our time together memorable. Amazing. Something she’d remember forever. (Funny, my husband wanted to take her out on a date but he tends to have all the fun by more frequently being able to take one kid with him somewhere while I stay back and tend to the flock lol.)

Well that weekend came and none of that happened. We had errands to run. Someone, I think, got sick. I had another day’s work of laundry, cooking, handling kiddos. It never happened.

One night the following week, the Holy Spirit spoke again- the same simple phrase whispered to me at night. “Spend one-on-one time with Ada.” At this point, I had been trying to pay more attention to her throughout the day in order to see if I had missed anything. From my finite eye, she was still her very upbeat happy self. But for whatever reason the Holy Spirit kept reminding me to just DO SOMETHING.

This time I spoke back.

“Holy Spirit, how do I carve out time to do this? I have a 4 month old that you know I'm exclusively breastfeeding. Our weekends are busy. What do you want me to do?” (It’s important to have conversations with the Holy Spirit when you’re uncertain about something. A lesson I’m learning that’s been transformative for me)

And then He reminded me of something that He had been teaching me in that/this season of life: “Do what you can with what you have.”

My mother’s helper was coming over in a few minutes and then it dawned on me. I could have my mother’s helper watch the kids for a second while my daughter and I just went out for a short walk around our neighborhood. Our youngest had just gone down for a nap.

“Ada, go put your shoes on. You and I are going to have some mommy-daughter time.”

“Where are we going Mama?” she asked in bewilderment. Her older brother overheard and began to put his shoes on to.

I’m taking you on a walk …. just you and me.

“I wanna go too!” my son chimed in.

“Uhhh…okay. Hmph. Okay, I’ll take you, Evan, after I take a walk with Ada.”

Ada and I walked outside. No bikes. No scooters. She and I just walked hand in hand. At first it felt odd not having any of the other kids around. After just a minute or two, I began to see my sweet little girl from a different point of view. I could really set my eyes completely on her.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Good,” she said with the sweetest smile—her small hand never letting go of mine.

“What direction do you want to go in?”

I could see her little being grow in excitement.

“This way, mama,” she motioned.

We continued to walk. Eventually, she stopped to look at the flowers and told me how beautiful they were. She stopped to show me a random butterfly flying and asked me where the butterfly’s mommy was. She pointed to the sky and told to me look at the airplane and then asked if she could go to New York one day on an airplane to visit her aunt. And then after ten minutes, she asked to go back home.

Later that week, she was playing with her toys when she suddenly looked up and said,

“Mommy, remember when you and I saw that butterfly and beautiful flowers? I wanna do that again. I wanna take a walk with you.”

And so, we took another walk—just she and I.

This time she told how she really wanted a unicorn skateboard and how she didn’t like gymnastics and how she was really hot. It was all so cute watching her talk. I tried taking in the moment of just being with her.

I didn’t realize that something so simple, so small, would leave her (and myself) feeling so full. I could tell that she felt special. I didn’t have to buy her anything. I didn’t have to organize how to leave my exclusively breastfed baby for hours to organize time to spend with her. She just wanted a few of my minutes.

“Do what you can with what you have,” the Holy Spirit impressed upon my heart.

Now, I’ve taken some alone time with my oldest son too. It looks much different, let me tell you! One night he asked to have some “son and woman time” with me. My mom was coming over the next morning so that I could run a few errands alone. I let my son go with me on the spur of the moment. While in the car, I asked him a few questions but he was lost in thought while looking outside the car window. Eventually, I asked, “Do you want to talk?” “No, thank you,” he answered. He just wanted to run errands with me.

I’m not sure what the lesson is for the one reading this blog post. Maybe it’s just for you to remember that your kiddos don’t need an elaborate plan from you for them to feel seen, known, and loved. They may just need a few minutes of your uninterrupted attention and listening ear. It costs little but could possibly mean everything in the world to them.

I’ve never heard my kiddos say, “Mommy I like how well you manage the home and provide a clean peaceful environment…or I really love how you aim to cook nutritious foods…or I really love how you taught our homeschool lesson for today…or I love how nicely you use different voice inflections during reading time.”

But I’m sure that they will never forget FEELING seen, known, and loved.

I don’t have any tips for ya. Ask the Holy Spirit for wisdom on the application. I’m just thankful I have the Holy Spirit to SERIOUSLY help me parent as I steward these four beautiful souls. He redirects me to what’s truly important, whenever my mind gets hung up on the small trivial stuff.

So… do what you can with what you have.

And trust me, that’s more than enough.

Personal Update: I'm Craving Consistency- 8 Months Post-Partum

I'm officially eight months post partum.

Life with three little ones is busy.

Life is full.

Life often feels messy.

And I feel overwhelmed...often.

But I'm also feeling stretched. The capacity for what I can handle is increasing, though I often crave for the weight to remain the same.

Y'all, I'm exercising muscles that I didn't know existed-both figuratively and literally.

Our daughter’s second birthday.

Somewhere in the midst of what often feels like chaotic days, I've been craving consistency. I love this blog. It fuels me beyond measure to write, to reflect, and to create content.

But I often feel like I write these emails/blogs with the little crumbs that I have left after a long day...week...month...season of life. Fifteen minutes here. Ten minutes there. A few sentences, after countless interruptions (interruptions that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world). 

Easter Sunday 2022

I love consistency. I love following through with a detailed schedule and outline. But I haven't been doing so, because

1) My life can't be structured into a detailed outline right now and 
2) I keep staring at the little bit of crumbs I have left on my plate and wondering, "what do I have to offer?" 

"But what's wrong with crumbs?" 

This last question plagues me. It's a question that keeps coming up in my spirit. 

It was through small pieces of bread and a few pieces of fish in which God received so much glory amongst 50,000+ people. 

And so I'm here to  share that, moving forward,  I plan to share the little bit of  crumbs that I have whenever I have the opportunity, believing that the Lord will multiply these crumbs into the sort of bread He desires, to feed whomever He wishes, and to receive the glory however He ordains. 

Look for more emails from me.

Unsubscribe if these emails become annoying lol.

But know, I'll be extraordinarily  proud of myself for showing up and writing... even with my little bit of crumbs. 

Love you.

- Pondered Thought 

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2021 Stretched Me Beyond the Vision Board: FINALE (4 of 4)

**If you missed “Part 1” "Part 2" and “Part 3” of me retelling some moments that occurred during the last six months of 2021, trust me, you want to read it! This blog post is a continuation of such.

Our insurance paid for us to stay in a hotel near our home and provided funds for food that went beyond any normal grocery costs.  

The day before we were set to go to the hotel to stay for one week, my husband came home from work with a FEVER.

“Not again,” I thought to myself.  It had been three months since my husband’s water fast which meant that it had also been three months since my husband’s sickness—the sickness that led him to the doctor’s office. With everything going on, I didn’t have as much empathy this time around.

I went in on my husband.

“Have you had any water today? Did you eat? Have you been taking your zinc and vitamin d3? What about those multivitamins I bought you? Ev, ev, ev….you can’t live off coffee. And you’ve been staying up late at night too. I make you so many vegetables and you go all day without eating. You can’t live off coffee forever,” I berated in frustration.  

It was the end of August and at this point, the Delta variant was sweeping its way across Memphis. I emailed my son’s teachers to let them know that my son wouldn’t be attending school until we all got tested in case my husband had Covid. My husband stood confident that it wasn’t Covid, considering how mild his sickness initially felt.

The next day, my husband,  two kiddos, and I all sat in a long drive-by testing site to get tested. Two hours later, we had our noses swabbed. (At-home antigen tests were not available during this time.)  

That night we packed up our bags, put on our masks, and checked into our small hotel room. My husband and I were both exhausted. From packing up our home and moving furniture aside for the workers to begin renovations, to packing up clothing and food for our stay, we were both tired. 

With only one month until my baby’s due date, the thought of eating takeout and not having to clean an entire home seemed nice. I looked forward to our mini staycation. I readied myself towards kicking up my feet and watching as much cable television as I’d like. 

That night I slept hard with each of my kiddos at my side. My husband decided to sleep on a pull-out couch to keep distance from us.  Around 2 AM, I got up to use the restroom. I checked on my husband who slept across the room. 

“Evan?” I lightly touched his back.

I lurched back in shock.

Water soaked through my husband’s entire shirt.  He was dripping in sweat, despite me keeping the room exceptionally cold. His fever had definitely gotten worse. I stripped him down and gave him a cold bottle of water and some meds.  He didn’t look well. 

I went back to sleep. 

In the wee hours of the morning, my husband shook me awake from a deep sleep that only a third trimester woman could experience. 

“I just got the email love. I tested Positive.  I’m going to go to my parent’s home to quarantine,” he said with a sense of urgency. 

I don’t know if I was more shaken at the news of my husband’s positive test or of the fact that my husband was about to leave me in a small hotel room… with two small kiddos…one month from my due date. 

Kiddos sleeping in the hotel room.

The next few weeks tested me beyond what I thought possible. 

I learned patience. Complete dependence on God. Gratitude…even for the less than ideal scenarios. And how to pray short prayers. Constantly.

My husband quarantined for ten days at his parent’s home. In those ten days, my one-year-old daughter tested positive for Covid. Then my three-year-old son tested positive. And then I myself tested positive. Due to our hotel’s policy, my two kiddos and I couldn’t step foot outside of our hotel room. So my mother, mother-in-love, and sister dropped off groceries, diapers, and freshly washed clothes at our hotel door for two weeks. The renovations went longer than we anticipated. 

One night, while stuck in a less than 150 sq foot hotel room with two very busy children, I began to experience contractions. No, not Braxton Hicks. But contractions. From 11:00PM to 4:00 AM, I had contractions every hour.

At this point, I broke down crying. I texted my very wise and Godly doula. She assured me and told me to try to sleep and not to worry. I was full-term (i.e. 37 weeks pregnant) at this point and had no reason to stress. 

But I was not about to have my baby in a hotel room. I was not about to have a natural birth, while also recovering from COVID. 

I took some magnesium and pleaded with God.

“Lord, I don’t know what Your Will is but I don’t want to have a baby right now. Not like this, Lord. Not like this.” 

My contractions stopped completely (Praise the Lord!).

I stayed in the hotel room for a few more days since our renovations were still not done. 

At this point, I felt my body beginning to go under. Chasing two kids around while pregnant and while recovering from Covid began to tax my body. I knew that I needed to leave that hotel room.

I was eating takeout and hadn’t had the luxury of breathing in fresh air from outside. I strongly felt that if I didn’t do something, things would take a turn in a less than satisfactory direction. 

I went to sleep one night and felt the Lord speak. I needed to leave the hotel. 

My mom knew I had reached my limit. Despite my kiddos having only quarantined for 7 days (at this point the CDC recommended 10 days of quaranting) she offered to take the kiddos home with her so I could rest. My mother-in-love offered for me to stay in she and her husband’s home since my husband had recovered. So I packed up my bag and went to stay at my in-loves home. My husband packed up his bags and went to stay in our hotel room until the renovations were completed on our home.

I felt better within a matter of days. Being in quarantine proved to be the best vacation to date for this stay-at-home mom and introvert. Due to not having to care for my precious kiddos, I slept, ate home-cooked meals (served and delivered at my door by my AMAZING mother-in-love), watched HGTV, and took many walks outside alone.

My kiddos ended up staying with my mom for one week before we all moved back into our newly renovated home.

When I stepped inside our home and saw the renovations, I couldn’t believe that what I had prayed for over a year actually happened.

It took me another five days to get the house back in order-exactly to my liking. (At this point I was past my due date.) 

After feeling satisfied with our home, I went to sleep one night and thought to myself, “Okay Lord, I’m ready to have this baby now.” 

Elena Grace Stephens came 12 hours later, in the comforts of our home. 

Y’all. God. Is. Just. That. Good.

But, actually.

She was born with a head full of hair. We love her so much.

2021 Stretched Me Beyond the Vision Board: (3 of 4)

**If you missed “Part 1” and "Part 2" of me retelling some moments that occurred during the last six months of 2021, trust me, you want to read it!  This blog post is a continuation of such. 

That night, I went into my prayer closet and pulled out my journal. 

“Lord, thank You for our health. 

Thank You for our home. 

Thank You for my marriage. 

Thank You for these children. 

Thank You for the AC Unit that is allowing us to stay in our home.

Thank You for allowing us to be home to quickly catch this leak. 

 And can You give us $12,000 in the next few days?

 I know You can do it. 

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.” 

Over the next few days, it appeared that the water leak didn’t cause any noticeable damage.

I was thankful because it didn’t feel like I had any more room to add to my plate.

We were still waiting for our AC to be fixed. At night, we’d carry a AC window unit to our bedroom, and my husband, myself, and two kiddos would all fall asleep in the same room (our three-year-old son loved this), and then during the day, my husband would carry the 60-pound AC unit downstairs to cool the downstairs while I stayed home with our two kiddos.  

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I discovered a musty smell coming from underneath our kitchen cabinets. I knew I smelled the beginning stages of mold.

With me being pregnant and having small kiddos, I knew it was only a matter of time before things could possibly escalate into a dangerous situation. 

I called a mold specialist to come out and evaluate our home. 

On the morning that the mold specialist was scheduled to visit, a bathroom tile fell from our bathroom wall fell while my husband was showering. 

“******,” my husband yelled in frustration. “That’s it. I’m so done with this house.”

I knew that my husband was joking (maybe he was slightly serious), but if we had a nice little down payment sitting in our bank account and if I weren't pregnant and well into my third trimester, I would have begun packing myself.

By this point, despite our inward thoughts and frustrations, my husband and I tended to abide by an unspoken rule between the two of us: when issues arise, keep your head down, refrain from complaining, and move forward by focusing on the solution rather than the current problem.

Within a few minutes, the mold specialist arrived.

He only confirmed what I knew to be true. The molding at the bottom of our kitchen cabinets were beginning to rot and we most likely had mold growing underneath the cabinets as well. The only way to verify this suspicion would be to completely gut the entire kitchen in order to mitigate any potential mold.

I braced myself before hearing the cost to do all of this.

“I’d have to go back to the office and run a few numbers before sending you a quote,” the mold specialist said with calculation. His eyes held empathy as I noticed him glancing every now and then to my growing womb, my messy living room filled with overflowing children's books, and my two small kiddos who found it perfectly fine to continue spewing out their morning demands in front of a complete stranger. 

I took a deep breath. 

“Okay cool. Hey, before you go, do you mind looking at our master bathroom? We had a bathroom tile fall from the wall, and I just want to make sure that there isn’t any mold there too.” I have no idea where I got the idea to ask this.  

“Yeah, of course,” he complied.  

It didn’t take the mold specialist long to give his analysis. We definitely had black mold in the wall of our bathroom shower. This mold had nothing to do with the water leak we’d experienced weeks prior. The mold specialist theorized that the mold had probably been growing behind the tile of our bathroom wall long before we even bought our home, which was less than two years ago at the time, due to a lack of sealing around the tiles of our bathroom wall.

Here we were…requesting a mold specialist to review our kitchen for mold, not knowing that we had mold growing in our bathroom shower all along. What stunned me was that we wouldn’t have known that we had mold in our bathroom unless a bathroom tile fell on the exact morning that the mold specialist planned to come to our home. 

You can’t make this stuff up.

 God seriously takes care of His children. 

The mold specialist awkwardly smiled before leaving. He was young and newly engaged. I hoped that the very felt chaos witnessed in our home didn’t traumatize him from ever wanting to have kids. 

Before stepping out of our front door, the young man turned around and tried to piece together a word of encouragement. 

“You know…I noticed that you have a lot of scriptures up in your home. You guys are doing something right,” he said without really pausing for me to reply. I knew this was his way of saying that everything would be all right. His pace picked up as he walked back to his truck. 

“Thank you,” I said, whether to him or to God…I’m not sure. 

A few hours later, we received the quote from the mold specialist. 

I braced myself. After reading the report, I told my husband the amount to simply treat the mold (never mind the cost to repair and buy new cabinetry, countertops, backsplash, and bathroom tiles, etc. after treating the mold).

“Okay,” he said. 

My husband didn’t flinch upon realizing the scope of work that would need to be done. He didn’t say anything either and just nodded his head as if to note that this was beyond his control and that he wouldn’t worry about it.  

His response felt reminiscent.

It reminded me of the time I sat on the barstool of my parent’s kitchen counter as a little girl. At the time, both of my parent’s cars had just broken down. It was a Sunday evening and I vividly recall my dad sitting at our kitchen table figuring out how his four little girls would get to school in the morning, as well as him and my mom to work. 

Even as a little girl, I knew that my dad’s demeanor didn’t make logical sense. It just seemed like one bad thing was happening after the other, while he seemed like a little bird perched on a frail branch, singing to his heart’s content without fear of falling.

I sat at the counter confused. 

“Daddy.” 

My dad looked up from his notepad. 

“How are you not worried about what we’re going to do?” I inquired with genuine intrigue. I anticipated a concrete answer, as I would if I had asked, “Where does rain come from?” 

I don’t remember what he said, but I recall the instantaneous smile that swept across his face and the sheer calm that illuminated his eyes.

Yes, a familiar calm pierced my husband’s eyes too. 

What do they call it? A peace that surpasseth all understanding (Philippians 4:7)?

I went to sleep and my husband and I didn’t speak any further about the matter. 

The next morning, my husband asked me to reach out to a family friend who was a contractor. 

“Ask her for advice, Jess,” my husband casually requested the next morning while walking out the door. 

I texted our older family friend and she called shortly after. 

“You need to file a claim with your insurance,” she advised with a sense of urgency. 

“Oh. I know we have a pretty high deductible. I ruled out this option.”

I told her our deductible and she paused. 

“Still call your insurance company and file a claim,” she advised. Her tone was that of a mother instructing her daughter. 

“Okay. I’ll do it right now.” 

I called our home insurance and filed two separate claims. Our insurance scheduled a time for an adjuster to come out to evaluate the damages. Come to find out, our deductible was much lower than I initially suspected but still high enough to make me think that this process was a lost cause. 

After a few weeks, we received the adjuster’s final assessment.

I called our family friend again for advice.

“Oh, no! ” she exclaimed after reading through the report. She began rattling off terms that I knew nothing about. 

“We will fix this,” she assured. 

And she did. 

After much back and forth with our insurance company, we received a check for close to $30K six weeks before my due date.

Instead of $12K, God blessed us with MORE THAN double the amount that I requested of Him that night in my prayer closet. Praise God for the wisdom, counsel, and work done through our family friend. She was literally a God-send to us.  

 In December of 2020, I placed on my vision board to have a new backsplash and countertops in our kitchen in 2021. My husband had just left his corporate job and was starting his own business. With the uncertainty that comes along with beginning a business and with the instability of the market during a pandemic, I wasn't quite sure how we’d possess these tangible items in 2021. All I knew was that I was tired of looking at our old tile countertops. I was also tired of scrubbing the grout hoping to get rid of stains, dirt, and bacteria.

Do you know that the Lord blessed us with every material item I placed on our vision board (except for a used piano for our son, but hey, the year isn’t over!)? My vision board included large sections on what I planned on doing in 2021 and prayers for the woman I desired to become. But to be honest, I most enjoyed writing my “what to have this year” portion of my vision board! From a specific vacuum cleaner that I wanted us to have… to a particular map of the world…to funds for an incredible family photoshoot. The Lord blessed us! The largest of all was a new kitchen entirely. I had no idea the Lord would provide a new kitchen for us…by means of a frustrating water leak. 

With six weeks left until my due date, we prayed that the renovations could be done speedily. 

Again, I didn’t predict what was about to transpire next. 

Before

After

(*This picture was taken before our drawers and cabinet doors were installed. ’ll update this when I get a chance).

Click Here To Read The Last Part of This Story

2021 Stretched Me Beyond the Vision BOARD: (2 of 4)

**If you missed “Part 1”  of me retelling some moments that occurred during the last six months of 2021, click here. This post is a continuation of such. 

 It was over. I propped up my slightly swollen feet and breathed a nervous breath.

“It” was over.

What was the “it”?

The influx of physical ailments witnessed on my immediate family? Perhaps. 

My husband sat on the couch, still weak…not really watching my recommended musical but happy to see me smile. 

Something felt all too spiritual about the days. The timing of sickness right after my husband’s fast. The random texts received from those who knew nothing of our situation-commenting “thinking of you” “just calling” “on my mind.” 

I thought “it” was over. But things were only beginning. I felt warm air. Not exactly warmth as in the sweet presence of the Holy Spirit－although He was definitely there. 

24 hours later, upon one of the hottest weeks in Memphis, TN, our AC went out.

“Ev, our AC is completely out,” I yelled back, after walking in the door. Evan approached our door from the garage and let down our daughter from his arms to get a better listen to what I said. 

“Aw dang, you’re right. Okay,” he responded. 
A few hours passed. 

“We’re not staying here tonight. You can get ready to go. I’ll call my mom so we can stay with my folks,” my husband spoke with a sense of finality. 

Didn’t I tell you that my husband doesn’t like to be hot…or hungry? 

One day of being away from our home quickly turned into ten days. COVID delays had the part for our AC unit on back order. Praise God that we had a place to stay. Not just a place, but my in-laws were and are always perfect hosts－ensuring that our every want and need are always met. Despite such accommodations gifted to us,  I began growing anxious with each passing day that we were away from our home.

By the ninth night, I couldn’t sleep. I needed to get back into our home quickly. I didn’t quite know why, but I could tell that my growing anxiety had the potential of impacting our precious child growing in my womb. 

“Love, we need to purchase an AC window unit until our AC is officially fixed. I can’t spend another night away from home,” I nagged my husband…more than once. 

Tired of hearing my incessant request,  my husband compromised by offering for us to stay with my parents, who lived only a few minutes from my in-laws. He  thought I’d feel more comfortable if we stayed there since…well, I grew up there. He didn’t see the need to doll out more money when our home warranty was in the process of fixing our AC unit any day. 

“Our home warranty keeps delaying and I really need to be back in our own space,” I tried convincing once again.  

He listened and insisted that staying with my parents might quell my anxious thoughts.  We packed up our kiddos and went to stay with my folks. But within two hours of arriving at my parents, I knew that I’d probably have another night of not sleeping－not due to a lack of luxurious accommodations provided by my parents but due to the fact that, for whatever reason, I really needed to get back to my own home. I grew tired of explaining to my husband as to why. I just knew that I needed to be home and couldn’t sleep restfully until I was. 

Without feeling the need to explain further, I packed up my personal bag and let my husband know that I was leaving my parent’s home…that same night.  

“Where are you going?” my husband asked when seeing my back packed and sitting at my parent’s door. We had just gotten the kids ready for bed and settled for the night.  

“I’m going home. The low for tonight is in the 60s. I’ll take Ada with me and put her to sleep (I still nursed her at night). But I’m going home. I can’t sleep here and I can't be in someone else's home  for the unforeseeable future. It’s stressing me out.”

Something was off and I couldn’t place my finger on it. All I knew was that I needed to get back to our home. Did I say that already?

My husband looked at me and didn’t say anything.

“Um…okay,” he cautiously retorted. He gave me the sort of look he’d perfected when he was utterly confused and could only explain away my actions by pinning them to…hormones.

My parents were even more bewildered than he. I just told them, without explanation, that my husband and our son would be staying with them while I went back home.  

My amazing parents on the night of my college graduation. Posting this dated picture because I knew my Mama would approve of this one lol. Her beauty is flawless!

That night, in the comforts of my home,  with all fans on and windows opened, I slept fitfully like a newborn babe. 

The next morning, I woke up in peace and then did something I’d never done in our marriage. 

I purchased a large window unit－a hefty cost－while knowing that my husband did not stand in agreement. 

“You have every right to be upset,” I texted my husband, before sharing what I’d done. Due to our shared accounts, I knew my husband had already received the notification for the purchase without me needing to share. 

“Lol…I’m just happy you are okay,” he gracefully replied. 

I could see his concerned look for my emotional well-being from afar. 

My actions did not appear stable to the naked eye. 

I didn’t understand my actions myself. 

My one-year-old daughter and I went to Costco during the senior hour and purchased a very large AC unit. I went home, dragged it out of the car, somehow, and installed it myself without blinking an eye. I would not be spending the night in anyone’s home. 

I could finally breathe. 

High off of being in the comforts of my own home again, I began cleaning our kitchen with a new melody in my heart. I felt so elated to be home, to have everything I needed at my fingertips, and to begin cooking as much delectable food as I’d like. 

Within a few hours, I heard a strange sound in the kitchen. After briefly looking for the source of the sound, I figured it was the refrigerator making ice and went on with my morning chores. 

I fell into my usual dance of wiping down counters, scrubbing dishes, sweeping, mopping, and adding essential oils to my diffuser. What I once thought were mundane chores suddenly felt therapeutic. I was grateful to be back in my regimen-a regimen that I didn’t know that I’d miss. Towards the end of my missed routine, I looked down.

And that is when I saw it. Water coming up from underneath our kitchen floorboards. 

It began from the laundry room and spanned the width of our entire kitchen. I soon realized that we had a leak coming from the dishwasher. I waddled to our kitchen sink and shut off the water valve connecting to the dishwasher. The strange sound instantly ceased. But the water continued to seep its way through our luxury vinyl tiles. 

 I looked around me and fell to my knees. We had a water leak.

“Lord, please. Please, not this. Lord, I need….I need…. a break. Just a moment. This is too much.” 

We had just replaced our entire downstairs with brand new flooring less than one year prior…and here I was standing in the midst of a water leak. I knew we didn’t have the funds to do a quick repair. And the potential for mold loomed over my head. I was in my third trimester, planning for a home birth in a few weeks. And here we were, dealing with a water leak. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it. 

My one year-old daughter quickly brought my dramatic display of despair to an end. I needed to get up and keep going. I’d have a moment to cry when my kids went to sleep. 

Our precious daughter.

That night, I went to my closet and pulled out my journal. 

“Lord, thank You for our health. 

Thank You for our home. 

Thank You for my marriage. 

Thank You for these children. 

Thank you for the AC unit that is allowing us to stay in our home until our AC is fixed.

Thank you for allowing me to be home to quickly catch this leak

And can you give us $12,000 in the next few days?

I know You can do it. 

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.” 

What the Lord did next…blew me away.

Click Here to Read —>Part 3

Also, check out my latest book, “God, Princeton, & My Pondered Thoughts: A Memoir of My Encounter with God at an Ivy,” on Amazon.

2021 Stretched Me Beyond the Vision BOARD: Here's HOW Part 1

I wonder if I can write a blog post within 30 minutes. 

I’ve never done so in the past. 

But this is also my first time writing a blog post while having three children aged three and under.

This is new. So, here we are.

If you’re curious to know how the last six months of my life have fared, join the adventurous journey by reading along. It’s been…. “interesting” to say the least. 

In late December of 2020, my husband and I wrote out our visions, placed them on four large whiteboards, and hung them up in our office. I took the extra step of typing them, printing them, and laminating them to be fully displayed in our kitchen for a constant reminder. 

We had plans. Rather we had a vision.   

Therefore, by the end of May 2021, still high on what 2021 could bring, my husband shared with me that he would be embarking on a 3-day water fast with a group of spiritual brothers to pray for the remainder of the year. More specifically, my husband determined himself to pray for our family’s spiritual growth and for wisdom regarding preparation for what was to come.  

“Pray for me love, seriously, while I fast,” my husband said in passing while pouring a blueberry smoothie into a sippy cup while not stepping over our recently turned one-year-old daughter who still loved to crawl. Completing the latest feat, my husband straightened out his navy blue suit pants and gathered a list of items to rush out the door for the morning. 

“I got you, bae,” I said after receiving his distinctive goodbye kiss.

At the time, I was in my third trimester, very much pregnant, and tested daily with a 3-year-old and one-year-old at home. 

“I should be the one asking for prayer,” I thought, while staring at our beautiful children and wondering what the coming day would hold. 

My husband’s  water fast began. 

And so did our year…it seemed. 

Let me give a disclaimer. The second half of 2021 proved trying, but it wasn’t bad. I prefer the words “adventurous” and “glorious.” So if my tonality conveys anything less than…consider that I’m typing feverishly while it’s “nap time” for the kiddos.  

It started with a small cold caught by our one year-old daughter, Ada.  That cold soon spread to her older brother. No, I wasn’t panicking at this point, nor tired after nursing them to health for a week. It was at the “one week and one day” mark that tested my limits.

On day 8 of being sick, my son gripped his ear and began tugging it in clear discomfort while my husband and I took a casual Sunday drive to grab food. One look at our son and I knew this was serious. 

“Bae, he’s in a lot of pain. Go to Whole Foods. We need to get some raw garlic and one raw onion ASAP,” I griped. All plans for a quiet Sunday evening were put on pause. 

It didn’t matter. It never does. 

My husband, at this point in our marriage, rarely looked at me crazy upon hearing my strange medicinal requests. Instead, he kindly did what was instructed when it came to me nursing our kiddos to health ( as long as my husband had a full stomach..please don’t catch him hot or hungry). 

We made it  home and I immediately began making garlic and onion poultices to be placed on my son’s ear. I think this is the point in which I began showcasing my third-trimester waddle in full force. My husband placed a movie on for our son to watch while I carefully placed the poultice on my son’s ear. 

Instant relief. (Weeks later my son would pull at his ear in hopes that I’d put a movie on for him to watch.)

I could breathe. No mom cares to see any of her children in pain. I waddled upstairs with our daughter to change her diaper. By the time she and I made it to the top of the stairs, my daughter began projectile vomiting. 

“What in the….” I stared in disbelief, as her vomit settled more firmly into our carpet. 

“EVANN!!!!” I yelled. 

Her temperature then spiked. For the next 4-5 hours, our daughter would nurse (yes I was breastfeeding and very pregnant) and would then throw up an hour later. We called our pediatrician.

“Has she stopped vomiting? Okay, good. Give it another 48 hours.  As long as she can keep a good amount of  liquids down…” our pediatrician graciously instructed.

And thankfully, our daughter did just that.  

Except her temperature remained the same for the next two days. 

I made a same-day appointment. 

Her diagnosis? A double ear infection. 

I broke down in the parking lot of our pediatrician’s office in tears. Later we discovered that Ada had a severe food allergy to peas. She’d been drinking pea protein milk for weeks. I thought I’d done well in finding her a drink she liked. I didn’t know. 

I grabbed my daughter’s prescribed antibiotics from Walgreens and drove home, following the smell of normalcy coming within a few days. 

I closed our garage door and grabbed our two kiddos out of the car and walked into our home, only to see my husband sprawled out on the couch in the early afternoon on a weekday. 

He had a 102 °F fever. 

I became the nurse in the house. Going upstairs, downstairs. Touching foreheads. Giving out water. Studying all behavior like a scientist in a laboratory. 

My husband's fever continued to spike, at one point in the night,  going up to 104°F. We couldn’t go to an urgent care clinic, at the time, lest we had a negative COVID test. I called my mother-in-love for help. She brought over the entire Walgreens cold and flu section late that night. The very next morning, I drove my husband to get a COVID test. We waited a few hours and found out it was negative. I scheduled an appointment for him to see our primary care doctor the very next day. All the while, his fever continued to spike the moment any meds wore off. 

My sister rushed over the next morning to watch our kids while I took my husband to the doctor. I drove while saying prayers over my husband, who was ready to take whatever pill to make his sickness go away. At this point, my concoctions of cayenne pepper, apple cider vinegar, raw garlic, and ginger made him look at me with the utmost distrust. 

I knew he was really sick, considering he obliged to sit in the passenger seat while I drove him to the doctor.  

It took only one look from my husband’s primary care doctor for her to know that my husband was seriously sick. She hooked him up to an IV to receive fluids, fever reducers, and antibiotics. A few hours later, we picked up my husband’s Z-pack and went home. I walked in the house. Empty cups of cranberry juice and crackers sat on the counter, reminders of how many times we did communion and said prayers over the course of a few days. 

I could sit and rest. 

Okay, Lord. You are so good. We passed these tests. My husband was not yet 100%. My daughter's ear infections weren’t all the way healed. And my son still had a cough… but God was good. 

The year could now begin.

The blessings could be poured down. 

We made it. And I could sit down and stop showcasing my perfected waddle.

 I watched the premiere of Washington Heights and smiled.

I didn’t care if the house was in complete disarray, or that the kids hadn’t bathed, or that I could barely walk across our living room floor due to miscellaneous items encroaching my every step.

I could sit and laugh with my husband, while we stared at the music scenes beautifully displayed across our screen. 

 It was over. I propped up my slightly swollen feet and breathed a nervous breath. “It” was over.

What was the “it?”

The influx of physical ailments assailed on my immediate family? Perhaps. 

My husband sat on the couch, still weak…not really watching my recommended musical but happy to see me smile. 

Something felt all too spiritual about the days: the timing of sickness right after my husband’s fast, the random texts received from those who knew nothing of our situation—commenting “thinking of you”, “just calling”, “on my mind”—and the severity of my husband’s sickness (one in which had never occurred in my thirteen years of knowing him).  

I thought “it” was over. But things were only beginning. I felt warm air. Not exactly warmth as in the sweet presence of the Holy Spirit—although He was definitely there. 

24 hours later, upon one of the hottest weeks in Memphis, TN, our AC went out…

Click Here to Read —>Part 2

BTW, it took much longer than an hour to write this lol.

Also, check out my latest book, “God, Princeton, & My Pondered Thoughts: A Memoir of My Encounter with God at an Ivy,” on Amazon.

There's Power in Astrology, Crystals, Tarot Cards etc... And It's Deceptive

Astrology. Crystals. Tarot Cards. Ouija Boards. Psychic Readings. Speaking to the dead. Divination.

I normally don’t talk about this stuff. But the Lord has been guiding my thoughts. Sometimes these thoughts don’t leave. And as of late, this one hasn’t.

One thing the Lord has been gently revealing to me is a certain tactic the enemy is using. It’s not new. It’s been around. But it is becoming more socially acceptable.

It’s “Supernatural power…absent of Relationship.” And it’s dangerous.

Satan wants to eliminate a potential relationship with Christ by giving you access to his own demonic power that is absent from the Holy Spirit.

Sound vague? Spooky? Weird?

Well, it’s not new.

The impartation of demonic power to humans has been around. The Bible even talks about it…many times. And it’s still prevalent today.

“7 Then Saul told his officers, “Find me a woman who can talk to the spirits of the dead. I’ll go to her and find out what’s going to happen.” His servants told him, “There’s a woman at Endor who can talk to spirits of the dead.” 8 That night, Saul put on different clothing so nobody would recognize him. Then he and two of his men went to the woman, and asked, “Will you bring up the ghost of someone for us?”…”So Saul died for his breach of faith. He broke faith with the Lord in that he did not keep the command of the Lord, and also consulted a medium, seeking guidance. He did not seek guidance from the Lord. Therefore the Lord put him to death and turned the kingdom over to David the son of Jesse.”

— 1 Samuel 28:7-8; 1 Chronicles 10:13-14

“10 So Moses and Aaron went to Pharaoh and did just as the Lord commanded. Aaron threw his staff down in front of Pharaoh and his officials, and it became a snake. 11Pharaoh then summoned wise men and sorcerers, and the Egyptian magicians also did the same things by their secret arts: 12Each one threw down his staff and it became a snake. But Aaron’s staff swallowed up their staffs.”

— Exodus 7:10-11

“16 As we were going to the place of prayer, we were met by a slave girl who had a spirit of divination and brought her owners much gain by fortune-telling. 17 She followed Paul and us, crying out, “These men are servants of the Most High God, who proclaim to you the way of salvation.” 18 And this she kept doing for many days. Paul, having become greatly annoyed, turned and said to the spirit, “I command you in the name of Jesus Christ to come out of her.” And it came out that very hour.”

— Acts 16:16-18

There are several passages of Scripture that highlight the impartation of demonic power to humans.

It’s not new.

But it is still equally as dangerous today.

I’m not going to sit here and lie by saying that there isn’t supernatural power in psychic readings, magic, omen telling etc. The Bible makes it clear that there is power. But the Bible also makes it clear that the source of this power is evil. And even more, it doesn’t measure up to the immeasurable power and authority given through the Holy Spirit. God’s power always supersedes demonic power. Always.

Isaiah zealously warned others of the limitations of demonic power.

Isaiah 47: 12-15

12 “Keep on, then, with your magic spells
    and with your many sorceries,
    which you have labored at since childhood.
Perhaps you will succeed,
    perhaps you will cause terror.
13 All the counsel you have received has only worn you out!
    Let your astrologers come forward,
those stargazers who make predictions month by month,
    let them save you from what is coming upon you.
14 Surely they are like stubble;
    the fire will burn them up.
They cannot even save themselves
    from the power of the flame.
These are not coals for warmth;
    this is not a fire to sit by.
15 That is all they are to you—
    these you have dealt with
    and labored with since childhood.
All of them go on in their error;
    there is not one that can save you.

Daniel knew God’s power superseded demonic power. The Spirit of God gave Daniel the ability to interpret dreams, explain riddles, and solve difficult problems…more than any of his time’s magicians, enchanters, astrologers, and diviners.

 Daniel 5:11-12 11 There is a man in your kingdom who has the spirit of the holy gods in him. In the time of your father he was found to have insight and intelligence and wisdom like that of the gods. Your father, King Nebuchadnezzar, appointed him chief of the magicians, enchanters, astrologers and diviners. 12 He did this because Daniel, whom the king called Belteshazzar, was found to have a keen mind and knowledge and understanding, and also the ability to interpret dreams, explain riddles and solve difficult problems. Call for Daniel, and he will tell you what the writing means.”

Joseph experienced this. At a time when no magician or wise man could interpret Pharaoh’s dream, Joseph possessed the ability…due to the Spirit of God.

Genesis 41: 8 In the morning his mind was troubled, so he sent for all the magicians and wise men of Egypt. Pharaoh told them his dreams, but no one could interpret them for him.

And Elijah rejoiced in this. The prophets of Baal made all sorts of sacrifices, but they couldn’t call on the power of their god-a god who had shown demonic power previously- when it came down to calling fire from heaven.

1 Kings 18:36-39

36 At the time for the evening sacrifice, the prophet Elijah went near the altar. “Lord, you are the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Israel,” he prayed. “Prove that you are the God of Israel and that I am your servant. Show these people that you commanded me to do all these things. 37 Lord, answer my prayer so these people will know that you, Lord, are God and that you will change their minds.” 38 Then fire from the Lord came down and burned the sacrifice, the wood, the stones, and the ground around the altar. It also dried up the water in the ditch. 39 When all the people saw this, they fell down to the ground, crying, “The Lord is God! The Lord is God!”

Yes, there's power in Astrology, Crystals, & Tarot Cards...but it’s not the kind you want.

It doesn’t invite the presence you desire.

And its experienced power pales in comparison to the direction, guidance, wisdom, and power imparted through the Holy Spirit.

Let me just pause and say this.

Be careful in seeking the wrong presence & the wrong power.

I understand that we, as a generation, no longer want religion/moralism. It’s quite distasteful to our palates. I’m in the same boat. We want to experience the supernatural. We thirst for presence. We want to be free. We know there is more to life than this. So what I’m going to say will be forthright.

Satan wants you to believe the following lies:

1. All supernatural power is good and confirms the working hand of God.

2. We all have a supernatural power inside that we simply need to unleash through self-discovery.

3. The power of the Holy Spirit is weak, is of the past, and has no relevance for the present or future. Demonic power is much more powerful.

Do NOT BE DECEIVED.

1. All supernatural power comes from one of two sources. Good and evil. Let me be more specific: Jesus or Satan. The Creator or the created.

   • We live in a battle. And there are only two sides. Yes, two. (This isn’t a Westernized way of thinking. There are believers all across the world who know this to be true. Many witches/satanists, turned believers, expose this truth. And unfortunately, many empathizers who think that there are several different roads that lead to heaven…find out this truth too late.)

   • Satan comes as an angel of light (2 Corinthians 11:14). Satan doesn’t have horns and a pitchfork. If he did, you wouldn’t be deceived. He comes as an angel of light. He lies by promising you peace, freedom, power, insight, enlightenment, wisdom, and spiritual connectedness. Allured by the promise, you become his slave. If you get a whiff of this demonic power and demonic insight, if you ever sense this supernatural presence, it can at first appear inviting. Electrifying. New. Even freeing. It can even appear harmless. But it’s an age-old trick: tempting you through the mesmerization of “power” and “presence” and then leaving out the dark side to both, when it’s outside the presence of the Holy Spirit.

2. We are controlled by one of three things: the Holy Spirit, sinful flesh, or demonic influence. Yep, that’s it. To have supernatural power, it must be imparted to you by one of two sides. The body, soul, and spirit are interconnected-but these are still separate entities. Therefore, to have supernatural power doesn’t come from an untapped source inside. It must be imparted. And you want to be very careful regarding which well you drink from regarding this. .

   • (SN: Discovering your created purpose is powerful. Listening to your body is of benefit. But these discoveries still do not stand against supernatural powers. Recall, we all live in a supernatural battle that the eye is not susceptible to seeing. With that said, I must add that the “Universe” is not a distant utopia in which positive-thinking ushers in your destiny. In which connecting to your inner-self delivers you from attacks from a very real enemy. In which clean eating makes you spiritually cleansed. In which living “freely” makes you actually free. Christ is the only One who can save you from sin and death, deliver you from demonic influence, and fill you with His Spirit. Passages like Romans 7:14- Romans 8:17 explain this much more thoroughly. Is positive-thinking, processing your inner thoughts, and healthy eating beneficial? Absolutely! I can attest. But the moment these become the sole-trusted activity you run to for solace, help, comfort, saving—is the moment you seek a power absent of relationship. Similar to another’s supernatural reliance on demonic power, Satan loves when he can influence you to rely on human power. Why? Because it accomplishes the same goal in his eyes. You’ve officially erected your idol of choice on the throne of your heart-one that is outside of Christ. And this still won’t save you in the end.)

3. If…you…only knew the power of God/Jesus/Holy Spirit. No Power or presence can compare to that of God alone.

   • Unfortunately, some churches do not speak on the Power of Christ. Perhaps, it is to ensure that one’s motivation to submit to God is not due to one’s lust for power? I’m not sure. It actually doesn’t make sense to me considering that many believed on Christ, during His time on earth, due to His great power and authority displayed. But because of it, many Christians have no clue of the power they possess. Many Christians don’t exercise the authority that Christ has given them. And because of it, many are spooked upon hearing about demonic power and become fearful when hearing about spiritual attacks.

   • But if the believer only knew the power he possessed.

   • Recall that even demons believe on the name of Jesus Christ and tremble (James 2:19). That every demon will one day bow and confess that Jesus Christ is Lord (Philippians 2:10-11). That the Holy Spirit in a believer is greater than the spirit of darkness that’s in the world (1 John 4:4). That a believer has access to the FULL armor of God to stand against each and every one of the schemes of the enemy (Ephesians 6:10) through the power of the Holy Spirit. Countless times, we see through Scripture that demonic power cannot stand against the power of the Holy Spirit.

Why do I write this blog post?

A time is coming, if not already, when many will be deceived by false signs and false prophets. In the last days, the Bible warns us that many will be deceived by the demonstration of demonic power.

Take the time to read these scriptures.

 Matthew 24:24

“24 For false messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect. 25 See, I have told you ahead of time.”

 2 Thessalonians 2: 9-10 

“The coming of the lawless one is according to the working of Satan, with all power, signs, and lying wonders, and with all unrighteous deception among those who perish, because they did not receive the love of the truth.”

Revelation 13: 11-14

“11 Then I saw a second beast, coming out of the earth. It had two horns like a lamb, but it spoke like a dragon. 12 It exercised all the authority of the first beast on its behalf, and made the earth and its inhabitants worship the first beast, whose fatal wound had been healed. 13 And it performed great signs, even causing fire to come down from heaven to the earth in full view of the people. 14 Because of the signs it was given power to perform on behalf of the first beast, it deceived the inhabitants of the earth. It ordered them to set up an image in honor of the beast who was wounded by the sword and yet lived.”

Pondered Thought:

• We live in an ongoing spiritual battle for your soul. There’s hope. Jesus has already fought the battle and won! He has the victory. If you choose Him, you can experience this victory too. Once for eternity, and also on a daily basis in this temporal body and temporal world.

Stop Confusing God's "Intended Will" for His Redemptive Nature

If I hadn’t committed adultery, we wouldn’t have grown deeper in our marriage.

If I hadn’t left my wife and kids for a season, I wouldn’t have realized my need for them.

If I hadn’t gotten drunk, I wouldn’t have been bold enough to share the gospel with my friends that night. 

If I hadn’t gone to the strip club that night, I wouldn’t have met .... 

If I hadn’t gotten an abortion, I wouldn’t have finished college or gotten married to the love of my life.

If I hadn’t divorced my husband in frustration, I wouldn’t have ever seen my own brokenness.

If I hadn’t gambled that night, I wouldn’t have ever received enough money to pay that bill.

God is redemptive in nature. Therefore, although He can make a masterpiece out of a mess, don’t confuse yourself in thinking that it had to be a mess in order to be a masterpiece. 

Let me say that again... 

Your sin was not the necessity for God's masterpiece. 

His Goodness, His Sovereignty, His Omnipotence, however, was and is. 

And yet we tell ourselves this subtle lie to justify certain sins in our life or certain seasons of sin in our life to quiet the condemnation and shame that can seep forth from the remembrance of our own actions‒when in actuality, it’s the freedom found in Christ’s blood, through His forgiveness, that can only erase the shame associated.

Rest in God’s grace and goodness. Don’t rest in justifying sin upon seeing any good outcomes that can come from the sin and then reassure yourself by saying “Oh, well maybe it had to be this way in order for this good to happen in my life.”

No! It was the redemptive nature of Christ! And His redemptive nature ought to compel us to instead say, “Wow, look at God's grace in my life! Look at His goodness despite me! Praise the Lord for His mercy! He didn’t have to do it, but He did!!!” 

Again, when we see glimpses of good that spring forth despite our sin- it’s easy to believe the lie that we had to sin in order for “this good” to occur. Not so. The truth is that God is just so sovereign that He has the power and authority for good to be brought forth despite your sin. Why? Because He is redemptive in nature.

“28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
-Romans 8:28

What I learn from King David’s rape of Bathsheba is that the Lord used such a broken man to accomplish so many of God’s purposes. But we can’t gloss over the consequences that came with that sin too. A child died as a consequence of David’s sin. And we can’t ignore the generational consequences of his lustful actions that traveled to the next generation (his son raped his own half-sister, his other son had 700 wives and 300 concubines, his other son publicly raped David’s own concubines for all to see. ) 

Secondly, we can’t gloss over what was God’s intended plan for King David if he hadn’t sinned- something we will never know in its entirety. What did God intend on doing if David had remained faithful to one wife? If he hadn’t raped Bathsheba? If he hadn’t murdered another man in order to marry that man’s wife etc? I’ll never know. We’ll never know. 

But here’s the main point. 

God's intended plan never involves us sinning in order to accomplish what He wants to do in and through our life. There is never a time in which God smiles and is pleased when we sin. 

3 quick scriptures to back up what I’m saying: 

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” - Jeremiah 29:11

Sin will forever and always be destructive in nature. Therefore, the plans that God intends for us do not involve the nature of death, which is sin. He wants us to forever choose life, which is contained in His Word. 

15 See, I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction. 16 For I command you today to love the Lord your God, to walk in obedience to him, and to keep his commands, decrees and laws; then you will live and increase, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land you are entering to possess.

17 But if your heart turns away and you are not obedient, and if you are drawn away to bow down to other gods and worship them, 18 I declare to you this day that you will certainly be destroyed. You will not live long in the land you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. -Deuteronomy 30: 15-18

For the New Testament believer, this promise still holds true.

Those who live only to satisfy their own sinful nature will harvest decay and death from that sinful nature. But those who live to please the Spirit will harvest everlasting life from the Spirit. -Galatians 6:8

But you might say, “Yeah, but didn’t Jesus say, in this life, you will have many trials and tribulations and that you will go through?”

Yes, but some tribulations He never intended for us. They were brought on by our own sinfulness and foolishness. 

People ruin their lives by their own foolishness and then are angry at the LORD. -Proverbs 19:3

We don’t know what God had planned for David if He had been faithful to his first wife. We don’t know what generational blessings would’ve been brought forth from His obedience to the Word.

Yet, we do know how the Lord still used David’s adultery with Bathsheba to accomplish God’s purposes, therefore, displaying His Own redemptive nature. 

I’ll summarize by saying it again...

PonderedThought:

It’s never God’s will for you to sin in order for God to work in and through your life. God can use anything, yes! But don’t confuse yourself by thinking that the only way something good was brought forth in your life was because of your own personal sin. This is a dangerous trap, deceitful thinking, and quite frankly, a lie that many have believed throughout the years. That “good” was brought forth in your life because God is Good. He is Sovereign. And He is Redemptive in Nature.

He worked freely for over 5 years...just to marry his wife

What if I told you to name your price? As in, what if you could set the number of hours you’d work in order to earn your current salary for the year? The ball is completely in your court. What would you say? 

Can’t settle on a dollar amount?

What if instead, I asked, how many hours would you work for a year’s worth of groceries? Or for tuition? Or for a TV, car, or house? 

Weird question? It’s get weirder. 

What if I said, how many hours would you work...to marry the spouse of your dreams? 

Genesis 29 shows us that a man named Jacob was given this very proposition. 

Jacob fell in love (maybe lust lol) immediately after laying eyes on his first cousin, Rachel, while he was on the run from his brother who was trying to kill him (the Bible is quite entertaining). After a month of staying with Rachel’s parents during his journey, Rachel’s father, Laban, told Jacob the following: 

 “15 “Because you are my relative, should you therefore serve me for nothing? Tell me, what should your wages be?” 

Note carefully what Jacob says in response: 

18 Jacob was in love with Rachel and said, “I’ll work for you seven years in return for your younger daughter Rachel.”

Laban didn’t demand Jacob to work seven years for his daughter. Laban didn’t even request it. Jacob VOLUNTARILY chose to work for seven years. The terms and conditions were set by Jacob.

Why would he do this? 

I believe it’s because, in Jacob’s eyes, seven years of labor was the worth of making Rachel his future bride.

To Jacob, Rachel was worthy of seven years of free labor. 

Gosh, this may sound preposterous to some, but I actually think this is absolutely beautiful.

I’m quite the romantic and love love stories in the Bible. I could read Songs of Solomon every night. I could read Francine Rivers’ books and blush every time. Therefore, you’d think I’d smile when reading stories like Jacob’s. 

But this time when reading his story, I became a bit confused, then disheartened. In the midst of reading Genesis 29, the reality set in for me that Jacob’s actions would appear so rare in our day and age.

Jacob saw the worth of his bride and voluntarily named his wages—gladly working for what she was worth. 

You have to understand. I live in a culture today that values doing as little as possible to get as much worth as possible...whether it be a tangible item, an experience, or in many cases, a relationship. We call this “working smarter” because who wants to work harder? 

There are some appropriate places for this mindset, I can’t lie. 

But what happens when this type of thinking removes our ability to accurately evaluate things in our lives that were never meant to be cheapened by efficiency assessments, cost-benefit analyses, and returns on investment estimates?

What if we realized the immeasurable value of certain things in our life and worked heartily simply in accordance with what it meant to us? 

For instance, what is your personal assessment for the value of your marriage?

What about your relationship with your child, parents, or friends?

How much worth is the health of your body, the Lord’s temple, to you?

How much do you honestly value your time? 

All I’m saying is this: If some of these things are of great worth to you, do your actions, priorities, and work reflect it? 

Rachel was worth seven years of work in the eyes of Jacob. And Jacob considered those seven years as if they were merely days because of his love for Rachel. 

20 So Jacob served seven years to get Rachel, but they seemed like only a few days to him because of his love for her.

I imagine he didn’t complain about the amount of time nor work that he was putting in to marry her. His work reflected her worth to him. 

PonderedThought: Next time you find yourself complaining about how long or hard you’re having to work on something, whether it’s your marriage, relationships, health, job, a degree, etc—ask yourself, “how much value do I place this?” If you value it greatly, do the work cheerfully, don’t cut any corners, and stop complaining. If certain things are not of much value to you, reprioritize your life so that other things that are of greater value receive your greater attention and energy. 

How easily Satan plots against you, your family, and those you love most.

But sir, what about the youngest: Ethan? 

Yeah yeah. We’ve been trying to get our hands on him. I sent a couple squad members to study him. But his grandfather keeps saying those stupid prayers over him. Because of this, our enemy, Yahweh, has sent some of His angels of the most elite status to guard Ethan’s every step. It’s a lost cause. But his friends are another story. 

What do you mean sir? 

You didn’t hear the latest news? You all have roamed well. I spoke to our legions of demons across the US nation. They have successfully established several strongholds on the producers and writers of “children’s” movies. These strongholds should last for several generations too. It was a 30-year project. The key? We wanted every movie to have some form of witchcraft. 

You mean magic, sir? 

Hahaha... yes, yes, I’ve taught you well. With the success of that mission, we’ve been able to secure a foothold in current teens and Millenials . More and more of them are venturing into mediums, psychic readings, crystals, and ouija boards. The beautiful part is...they think it’s completely harmless and a way to seek the truth! We’ve arranged modern-day witch conferences in the major cities and many are asking to even be possessed by us. Can you believe it? They’re begging for us to enter their lives through vibrations and energies. They like our power. What they don’t realize is that they’re our slaves and that we will bring death to every single area of their life. 

Great job on the deceit! 

Now that I’ve updated you on that news, this training session has 4 points that I want us to focus on for the next century:

1) As always,  the children must never, and I mean it, never—they must NEVER know about the power of the Holy Spirit. Magic is fine but again, they should never be introduced to the Spirit’s power. And if a child just so happens to be found by Yahweh at a young age, speak lots of lies all the way into their adulthood. You must whisper to them that healings, visions, angel visitations, and prophecies are absolutely preposterous and outlandish. They cannot know the power of the Holy Spirit and the authority that they possess over us once possessing the Holy Spirit. If they do...we are done. 

2)  Okay, on to our next order of business... let’s keep a laser focus on killing the lives of children. Yahweh warned the sons of Abraham that we seek to “kill steal and destroy,” but many of the sons of Abraham glance over this scripture and think of it only in figurative rather than literal terms. This is perfect for our cause. They think this topic is too dark and so they go about life unaware of our antics. So without issue, we’ve been able to put more suicidal messages in the middle of children tv shows that get posted on YouTube kids' channels and even on shows streamed through Netflix. Parents are so distracted and overwhelmed with life that they don't even notice our subliminal messages. We’ve already stolen the lives of a couple of kids with these tactics, but it’s not enough. You know how much our leader, Satan, hates children. So we’ve gotta push harder to kill more .

3) Third point, bring more disease and mental sickness to this generation. Trust me, the children of Abraham will run to doctors before they even think to run to Yahweh. These sons of Abraham are wise in their own eyes. They’ve stopped praying for protection, good health, and peace of mind for themselves and for their children. They trust medicine, alarm systems, guns, and ring cameras more than Yahweh haha haha! And when many of those “Christians” get sick, they have no clue of their right to resist our attacks on their bodies and lives. They forget the authority they have over us!

But demons, we have one more order of business to address. 

What’s that? 

You know how we’ve stolen half the marriages of Yahweh’s children? 

Yep! 

We did it through miscommunications, adultery, arguments. 

Let’s go down memory lane.

Remember when we sent the spirit of lust to the marriage of John and Toya, and John committed adultery and Toya opened up the door for us to fill her heart with poisonous hate, unforgiveness, and bitterness? And John became so consumed with “his needs, his wants, his desires.” Thankfully they divorced and through their dysfunctional relationship, we’ve been able to plant a stronghold in their entire family line. Their children will never view marriage positively again.

Or what about when we sent the spirit of complacency to Mary and Jordan after they’d been married for 25 years? They thought that they were “good” and so we attacked them through subtle tactics: Increased busyness, decreased intimacy, increased miscommunication and lies...the usual concoction. Before they knew it they were divorcing too.

 Or my favorite, when we sent the spirit of delay to Alex and Liz? They were waiting on the promises of God but grew weary and then blamed each other when things weren’t working out. They didn’t realize that their blessings were on the way. It was Us, in the spiritual realm, delaying certain blessings from being delivered. They forgot about how Daniel’s prayers, in the Bible, strengthened the angels, Gabriel and Michael, to fight past our Prince of Persia to deliver Daniel’s answer.

Heck, what am I talking about? They didn’t forget the story! Yahweh’s children don't’ even read the Bible. 

But even with all of our recent victories, we still have a problem. Too many people still love marriage and the idea of it. For whatever reason, too many are infatuated with this entire institution. 

4) So here’s my last and final point. Let’s now redefine marriage. Our timing is running short before Yahweh destroys us all, so we have to be more strategic. 

Marriage was the first establishment that our enemy created. But many don’t believe our enemy exists anymore, and so it’s much easier now to make marriage fluid in its definition. 

We already made sure marriage doesn’t have to be only between a man and a woman. Oh, and if anyone isn’t apart of our agenda, make sure they’re seen as a bigot, hateful, and contentious. And then make sure you raise up actual bigots, hate-filled, and contentious persons. 

But let’s go further. Who said marriage only had to be between two persons? Who said a person had to always stick with their chosen sexual or gender identity? Push fluidity, fluidity, FLUIDITY. Convince them to go with how they feel day to day…teach them how to quiet any shame or conviction…then subtly lie to them by telling them that God is okay with it all.

Ooooo we like the sound of this... continue continue.  

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She didn't want to raise her son in a multi-ethnic church, but it's not for the reason you think.

Margaret pulled into the quaint suburb, located fifteen miles from the inner city of St. Louis, in order to visit her cousin Jae. Although Margaret and Jae were close in age, life experience placed them worlds apart. Jae, just moved from D.C. to a suburb of St. Louis and found herself in need of a break from the kids. Margaret, on the other hand, attended WashU Medical School and lived a life of singlehood, marked by days jam-packed with exams, studying, clinical rotations, and basic survival. 

“Hey girl, I gotta go grab my keys but sit anywhere you can find a place,” Jae immediately said upon opening the door. 

With that, Jae ran upstairs to grab her youngest toddler from the bathroom. 

“Need help?” Margaret screamed up, but Jae was already out of ear’s reach. 

Jae and Margaret were cousins through and through. Growing up in the burbs of Virginia, they received whoopings together, unwarranted lectures from grandparents, and even the same catcalls from strangers when frequenting their local beach. Though years had passed since then, and although their recent communications were less frequent, they were blood at the end of the day.

Ignoring Jae’s hospitable greeting, Margaret marched upstairs and followed the faint sounds of intermittent movement. 

Jae was oiling her youngest down with whipped shea butter and coconut oil. Her hands glided seamlessly from oil to skin to body parts somehow maneuvered through holes of clothing, as if a practiced dance. Jae's lack of cautionary pauses in between revealed that this wasn’t her first rodeo. In fact, this was her fifth child. 

Margaret looked on, secretly hoping that Jae would be a tad more gentle. Jae continued without looking up. 

“Marge, hand me that spray bottle on the dresser.” 

Margaret grabbed the spray bottle filled with water and other unknown oils. 

“Where are the boys?” Margaret asked, while Jae effortlessly brushed her daughter's hair into a bun.  

“Midday nap. Fed them so many beans, rice, and plantains that they’re in comatose.” 

Jae’s sculpted triceps flexed—displaying years of at-home yoga videos and car seat carrying—as she nimbly smoothed over the edges of her youngest daughter’s hair. Jae's skin glowed from slight perspiration and the natural beauty effects of dried rose water and years of rosehip oil applications.

“You really are settled in,” Margaret said, taking in Jae’s unspoken comfort. “Furniture moved in, you’re back cooking. Kids enrolled in activities. One thing you’re missing—” she awkwardly interjected, “—a church home.”  Her statement seemed a bit abrupt. 

Nonetheless, she went on to plead her case. 

“Jae, seriously. Why haven’t you come back to church with me?” 

Margaret knew Jae to be a woman of God. Jae often gave knowing looks growing up when certain love scenes flashed across the movie screen, or when Margaret thought it a good idea to get drunk at high school parties, or whenever they discussed the sanctity of life. Jae really didn’t say much, but her actions always said enough. She had a way of saying, “Just wait. Life will teach you,” without ever uttering a word. She always exuded wisdom beyond her youth or lived experience. And she didn’t tout her opinion lest asked. All knew that Jae walked closely with the Lord. 

Therefore, when Margaret recently committed her life to Christ and began going to a new church—a Bible-believing church that she truly found herself flourishing in—she invited Jae and her husband, Sean, to visit upon their move. But after a few Sundays, Jae's family stopped attending. Due to busy clinical rotations, Margaret forgot to follow up. Right now, it was the best moment to ask “why” while it was at the top of her mind. 

“You really want to know?” Jae asked. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” Margaret responded. 

“Well, first wake the boys up and meet me in the car. It’s parked in the garage. Oh, Sean doesn’t know you’re here. You know he works from home now so it’d be nice if you stuck your head in his office down the hall and said ‘hi’,” Jae said without waiting for Margaret to confirm her understanding of her rapid-fired instructions.

Before Margaret could say “okay,” Jae was already headed out the bedroom door. 

Minutes later, they both buckled their seatbelts in the small minivan, with three kiddos in the back, and pulled out of the garage to head to the indoor gym twenty minutes away. 

Without missing a beat, Jae continued on. 

“Look Marge, I have about 15 minutes to halfway sound coherent. Ah, by the way, Brooklyn and Leroy get out of school at 3 so we gotta swing by and pick them up on our way back. Okay. We can have this conversation...I really don’t feel like it. But if I don’t, you’re going to keep asking so…” she trailed off while checking her phone for the next set of directions. 

“There’s no pressure. I just wanna know why you don’t like it,” Margaret lightly said. 

Being a new Christian herself, Margaret thought Jae would be elated to experience what she was experiencing—a multi-ethnic church filled with great theology, worship, bible study programs, and even a superb children’s ministry. She thought that maybe there was one thing bothering Jae about the church, and she needed to ask. 

“Are you tired of being around white people, Jae?” she inquired bluntly.

Margaret knew that the question itself probably wasn’t new for Jae. Many black people casually spoke of this topic amongst themselves. In fact, Margaret and several of her other friends often said “yes” to the inquiry in passing. But now that Margaret was discovering this whole Christian thing, it would sound weird if the same answer came from Jae too. 

“Uhhhh...Yes and no. I’m proud of my blackness. There’s no shame. I’m just tired of dealing with the way our blackness is perceived. Trust me. I did it for years. Ignoring the way being accepted and loved is equated to greeting me with a tonal ‘hey girl’ accent when I show up at new membership orientation.”

“Haha,” Margaret burst out laughing-choking out a “Girl, stop!” between breaths. 

“No, I’m serious Marge. And it’s not just your church. I’ve tried so many other ‘multi-ethnic’ churches in the past and I’m pretty discouraged by what I’ve experienced. I’m tired of the caricatural ‘sorries’ for the slightest things.  I’m tired of seeing people’s true feelings and beliefs come out when my kids are playing with their kids. You see church and home are two different stories, Marge. Either no one would accept the invite for their children to come to my house, or my children would be invited over in a way that seemed like a check off the ‘be nice to a black person today’ list. Or even worse, ‘your children seem like a cool project to tackle-so let me be adventurous today.’’”

“Okay. I get it, but not everyone is like that though Jae, and you can’t let those experiences color all of the other people at my church, or multi-ethnic churches in general.”

“Maybe not. But cuz, at the end of the day, I see white people all day in the burbs. I and my kids go to schools and everyone’s white. I go to stay-at-home mommy groups...white. And especially when I was working in the corporate setting. I just want one day out of the week where I can worship and be myself. Where I’m not reminded of the implicit messages to conform to mainstream culture to make the majority feel comfortable. I want to go to church and know that when I hear a drawn-out “I.......” that what will proceed is a sudden beat drop, followed by everyone singing “will...trust...in the Lord.” I’m just being completely transparent with you. But you know, even though I’m saying all this, lately, I’m beginning to think it’s actually not a black, white, race thing. Or even a cultural thing.”

Margaret listened carefully, hoping to find the silver lining. 

Jae observed out loud, “I know I must sound scattered.” 

Jae paused, took a deep breath, and then continued. 

“I just want... I just want to be surrounded by people who are genuinely filled with the Spirit. I long for an atmosphere where the Spirit literally soaks our collective being. Sometimes the latest contemporary, agenda-driven, program-saturated multi-ethnic churches still feel dead. Even with the Word preached appropriately, so many feel as dry as deserts. And unfortunately, this barrenness trickles down to everything else. Don’t get me wrong, this deadness can be found in several predominantly black churches too. But when I walk into a church in which our predominant race or culture doesn’t preside, no matter how multi- anything, if I don’t sense the commonality of the Holy Spirit, I see only differences. And because of it, I’m well aware of my blackness, their whiteness, well before I’m aware of our Christianess. Unity ultimately lies in the felt presence of the Holy Spirit, who has the immeasurable ability to help those of us from different backgrounds truly feel connected. What is secondary is the preaching style, music selection, and diversifying ministries. The Spirit of God is always first and foremost—and that’s what I’ve seen to be missing. Without HIs presence, I’m just as guarded in the grocery store as in the church.”

“I’m trying to follow you but I’m having a hard time. I think you’ll always pick up on differences no matter where you go.  I think you should just give my church a chance. There are a lot of really nice well-meaning people there.”

And with that, Jae conceded and gave Margaret one of her quintessential knowing looks while they pulled into the parking spot of the indoor gym. She smiled and slowly opened her car door. 

PonderedThought: Thoughts about Jae? Thoughts about Margaret? Share your thoughts by commenting below.

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An Ode to the Stay-At-Home Mama: We in this together!

It’s a profession that’s not accurately depicted on screen, and one that is rarely illuminated in day-to -day conversations. When you say it, the response doesn’t reflect the same admiration that one would have of an investment banker or lawyer. In fact, its mention is often meet with eyes that suggest, “Aww...it must be nice. I’m sure you just love it.” 

And we do. 

We love being “stay-at-home mothers,” or as I prefer to call it, “CEO of our home-enterprises.”  

But for many, the inaccurate images of mothers restfully waking up, lounging around, and peacefully playing with a doting child/ren for the large part of the day...usurps the empathy, sensitivity, and conscious-awareness that is fitting for the work that SAHMS actually do. 

So, to the stay at home mom who feels overlooked, I see you. 

I saw how you woke up in the morning to your little one crying, quickly nursed or grabbed a bottle, changed a diaper, cleaned up yesterday’s messes, and silently encouraged yourself in between the coming demands constantly felt throughout the morning.

I saw how you managed to shave in the shower, sing to a crying baby in a bouncy chair 5 feet away, brush your teeth, and dress yourself—all while dancing to distract your baby from not crying even more due to not picking her up  

I saw how you managed to make breakfast for yourself, feed your LO in her highchair, and wash dishes—while thinking of what to eat for lunch and possibly make for dinner. 

I saw how you managed to get out of the house with a fully stocked diaper bag, snacks, water, books, carseat, wallet, charged phone, and somehow your own sanity. Not only that, I saw how you managed to get back home and walk back into your house with all of those same items.

I saw how you managed to engage in adult conversation while watching your child out of your peripheral, and how you took note of the stranger walking too closely in her direction, while also thinking about when your next Amazon package was to arrive (because we know that a mother’s mind can cover ALL of these things in a span of 30 seconds.) 

I saw how you answered the question, “Do you work?” with grace and poise...when you really wanted to scream and say, “Yes, I work 18 hours a day, seven days a week...and I’m on call during the night.” 

I saw how you put your LO(s) to sleep, and stayed up late afterwards like a little kid fighting bedtime because you wanted to enjoy as much precious alone time as you could before daylight (or let’s be honest, before your baby unexpectedly woke up in the night for a feeding).

I saw your frustrated efforts to remain faithful and consistent in your own personal pursuits despite your daily schedule feeling so out of your control. 

I saw the day you felt it too much to be a wife, a mother, a keeper of your household, a businesswoman, and simply you. I saw you feeling alone. I saw your words falling on deaf ears. And I saw your desire to press pause on it all for just one second. 

But do you know what else I see?

I see that you’re not alone. I see the Lord Almighty wrapping His arms around You and sustaining you for the next hour, and even for your very next breath. I see Him so pleased with the way you think through your day’s activities. I see Him so proud of how you nourish, soothe, and protect His precious child, whom He gave specifically to you to steward. I see Him joyfully looking on when you choose to engage with her and sing that song for the 100th time. I see Him smile when you read that book to her, even when you question whether or not your she is grasping all of the lessons you desire her to learn. I see God so impressed with the way you think of new ideas to make your life just a “little” more organized. I see Him take careful note of all your actions that go unnoticed. I see Him delightfully watching you serve your family in ways that no man will ever know nor understand.

Sis, I want to let you know that I see you. I see the mess. I see the endless roles you play. I see your desire to be everything and to do everything. And I see you feeling like you’ve fallen short everyday.

You’re not alone sis. 

I promise, you’re not alone. 

God’s watching, even when no one else is. Take a deep breath and revel in how proud your God is of you. Actually… imagine for one second the Lord’s pleasure over you.

It’s the one job that doesn’t include a written evaluation. 

It’s a job that gives no prospect of promotion, monetary compensation, nor benefits package. 

Yet it’s the one job that reaps a sense of purpose that a price point would deem insulting. 

So when others try to hand you an evaluation through tonal questions such as, “It’s cold out. He doesn’t have a hat? Wait, you’re still breastfeeding? You let him eat that? Hmmm...still not walking?, and my personal favorite: “So what have you’ve been doing all day (other than taking care of another human being/s)?” remember that you’re not alone. 

I see you. 

But more importantly, God sees it all. 

So the next time we pass one another in the grocery store, library, park, and glance in each other’s direction...let’s look past the leggings, the food stained mouths, the echoes  of our own mommy voices..and smile. It’s apparent. We are all just surviving...and honestly, sometimes that’s more than enough.

PonderedThought: Moms, have you taken time lately to remember that God is looking so proudly on your labor of love? For others reading, what are some ways you can be a conduit of God’s kindness towards any mothers of little one(/s) in this season?

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This is Why We Mourn Nipsey Hussle: 1985-2019

On March 31st, 2019, Ermias Asghedom (aka Nipsey Hussle) was murdered outside his clothing store, Marathon. Ermias went to his store to help out an old friend, who was recently released from prison, by buying him some clothes before his friend saw his family. In this particular instance, Ermias didn’t have his body guard nor security team with him. Unfortunately, a man named Eric Holder was able to approach Ermias, Ermias’ friend, and Ermias’ friend’s nephew outside the store. Eric Holder shot all three, but it’s reported that Eric Holder was able to return and shoot Ermias multiple times after realizing that no shots were fired back at him. Reports say that Eric Holder was motivated to kill after a personal dispute that occurred minutes earlier between he and Ermias. Ermias’ older brother showed up on the scene minutes after Ermias was shot and performed CPR on him before the paramedics came. Sadly,  Ermias passed away shortly after.

Ermias left behind a committed partner,  two young children, a brother, a sister, two parents, and a grandmother.

Ermias Asghedom and Lauren London

He was an artist, an entrepreneur, a community activist, and an innovative thinker in this generation.

Ermias’ Son

He opened the first smartstore, which sold clothing but also incorporated technology that allowed buyers to gain access to exclusive content through engagement and purchases in the store. In addition to owning this business, he also purchased the entire strip mall, where Marathon store was located, and had plans to create a six-story complex, filled with residential housing and commercial businesses.

He founded Vector 90, which was a tech hub that housed coworking spaces, rooms for seminars or networking events for the community, and a floor specifically for a STEM program for teenagers who might be interested in technology as a viable career option.  

He signed with Atlantic records and strategically made sure that he kept ownership of his master recordings.

“He once gave a pair of shoes to every student at an elementary school in Hyde Park, where he owned a burger joint, a fish market and a barbershop,” according to the Los Angeles Times. “He helped fund upgrades to the campus playground and offered jobs to his struggling neighbors. If someone lost a loved one to gun violence, he would sometimes chip in for the funeral.”

” He also helped restore a beloved and abandoned neighborhood roller rink that had important ties to the L.A. hip-hop scene.”

He dreamt of making south L.A. an area that birthed intellectuals, creativity, and new business.

He was a visionary and a lover of his community.

The day after he passed away, he was scheduled to meet with the city police to discuss how to end gang violence in the area. 

He valued truth.  

This is only a snapshot of why so many of us mourn Ermias Asghedom.

He was such a great example of someone who lived with purpose, who sought to give back to this life, and who emptied himself of his gifts, talents, and resources for the sake of others.

Honestly, I believe if Jesus had had His first coming to Earth a couple of weeks ago, I think Ermias and Jesus would’ve been friends.

No, I’m not talking about the “white man’s religion”  jesus. I’m not talking about the “I’ll oppress the poor through twisted moral justifications” jesus. I’m talking about the real Jesus.

I’m talking about the Jesus who grabbed a rope of chords and chased out the religious leaders in the temple because they were ripping off the poor. The One who touched lepers when everyone else thought that they were cursed and the scum of the earth. The One who wasn’t afraid to call out the moral failures of His leader by calling King Herod a “fox.” The Jesus who saved a woman caught in adultery from being stoned by reversing the finger on the very ones seeking to kill her.   

Yeah, like I said, if Jesus were walking the Earth in the flesh during the time of Ermias’ life, I believe Ermias and Jesus would’ve been friends.

They both grew up in places that no one thought could produce any good.

They both saw the least of these not as an “other” but as their own.

They both had a way of taking persons deemed worthless and giving them opportunity.

They both had enemies.

Ermias’ last tweet before passing away.

We mourn because Ermias lived his life with vision and on mission. He lived out what he believed. He left his community with more than what he was born into. He operated in his gifting. He emanated wisdom. His life challenges us all. R.I.P.

PonderedThought: As we mourn the legacy of Ermias, remember this:

“It’s not the years in your life that count. It’s the life in your years.”-Abraham Lincoln.

Are you living your life in purpose, for purpose, and on purpose? If you were to die tomorrow, would you die empty-knowing you died doing and living exactly the way God called you to live. Life is but a vapor. Don’t waste it. Live, prepared to stand before your Creator.

P.S. Many of our hearts are heavy and mourn over the passing of Nipsey Hussle. Let’s pray. For his family. For the south L.A. community. And for so many affected by his passing.

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Evan is an amazing husband...but I still need my Jonathan

So when I first presented this blog title to my husband, his expression was immediate. I don’t recall his coming words, but his pointed look said it all, “...Jonathan? Heck no. Jonathan WHO?!”

I figure you may be thinking the same thing. So I’ll get straight to the point. My marriage is literally the most intimate relationship that I’ll ever experience. There’s a reason why Scripture states that a husband and wife are to become one.

“ Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.”

— Genesis 2:24

My husband and I are literally one flesh in the eyes of God. This is why divorce is problematic. It’s interesting that this term “one flesh” is used between husband and wife and not between siblings, nor between parent and child, nor between the closest of friends.

So I say without reservation that my husband is my bestie, my partner, my covering, my love, and my heart.

And yet even still, with me marrying the sexiest man on this planet, a man who provides and dies to himself daily for myself and our family, a man who encourages me to flourish in my passions and pursuits…even my husband believes that I still need my Jonathan in order to live the abundant life that Christ has granted me.  

"As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. And Saul took him that day and would not let him return to his father's house. Then Jonathan made a covenant with David, because he loved him as his own soul. And Jonathan stripped himself of the robe that was on him and gave it to David, and his armor, and even his sword and his bow and his belt."

2 Samuel 18:1-4

Quick context:  Saul was King of Israel.. Saul’s son was Jonathan. So the next in line to be king was technically...who? Jonathan.

But the Lord anointed some shepherd boy that no one knew of to be King. His name was David. Funny enough, Jonathan became friends with the very one who was anointed to take his father’s kingdom from him. Not once did David’s anointing make Jonathan jealous. In fact, Jonathan did everything in his power to ensure that David became king.  To add to this soap opera, Jonathan’s father, Saul, knew the Lord had anointed David to become king and wanted to kill David. But guess what? Jonathan protected David.  David could have easily been killed by Saul, if not for the friendship, loyalty, and brotherhood between Jonathan and David.

So again, why do I share these verses?

My husband is my closest friend, my partner, my covering, my love, and my heart...and yet, I still need godly friendships with other women in order to flourish as a child of God.

My Jonathan is not one person but a tribe of women who hold me accountable, rebuke me when necessary, advise me when I don’t want to listen, empathize with me when I simply need to hear, “Awwww...really? That’s hard,” and encourage my giftings without jealousy.

We as women need one another. But more than that, we need select (very select) women in our inner circles in order to flourish as individuals.

My husband is uhmazing! And yet still, homegirl needs my one friend who can tell me point-blankly when I need to go apologize to my husband because I was out of pocket.

My other friend who listens, with quiet poise, to my struggles and has a way of asking one question that can make me change the course of my thinking (even after the phone conversation ends).

My other friend who allows me to confess my sin and prays for me, without dismissing what I have to say by saying, “Girl, it’s okay!”...when it isn’t.

My mom who has a way of letting me know that I’ll get through “whatever” because she did. My sisters who can tell me, without disclaimers, when I’m in a bad mood or being nitpicky or need to change clothes. I could seriously go on and on.

My Jonathan also comes in the form of different groups. I go to a dope bible study group that is filled with Spirit-filled women who allow me to glean freely from their revelations from the Word. I go to an awesome Moms group that has women who love God and have more kids, more experience, and more funny stories to share about crazy dinner times, potty training, meltdowns, and weight loss goals.

The point is this... I need other women in my life. And you do too. Not only that, other women need you.

If you don’t have what I just described don’t get discouraged—pray for one. This was my prayer a couple of years ago when first moving to Chicago. I knew I needed sisters to walk alongside with and women whose footsteps I could follow. But after a year, I looked around and saw surface friendships at best. Despite my best efforts, things weren’t going in the direction that I’d envisioned.

That’s until my husband, Evan, told me to simply pray for deeper friendships. And so I prayed. Honestly, that was my first time praying for that. And the Lord brought women into my life in the most unexpected of ways. It wasn’t instantaneous. It took time and faith. But in time, God answered that prayer.  Why? Because I believe the Lord takes pleasure in his children being in healthy community. King David didn’t just have Jonathan. In certain seasons he had a Samuel, a Nathan, an Ittai, a Hushai, etc. And each relationship looked different but was just what the other needed in that season.

PonderedThought: Who are your Jonathans in your life? Are you nurturing,investing, and praying over those relationships? Take time to think about these Jonathans and begin prioritizing these persons or groups. You need them, and they need you, more than you think. If you don't have any, ask yourself “why?” and pray that your relationships with other godly women grow more deeply.

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That day I tried to feed a man in need...

I glanced at the clock on my Macbook. 4:00 PM on the dot. After reaching for the keys on my desk, I turned to grab my bag behind my office chair. My feet preceded my thoughts as I headed straight through the classroom door. After a full day of teaching, I was free to focus on my evening plans.

But that line of thought, which was in the direction towards the comforts of my couch, was halted when I realized that I was hungry. Such hunger pangs couldn’t wait for a 30-minute commute home. Of course, it didn’t help that I was PMSing, which ultimately led me to make the final decision to splurge on some unhealthy treats. So coming to a logical conclusion, I drove off my school’s parking lot and headed straight to Jewel-Osco, a well-known grocery store in Chicago.

Once parked, I stepped out of my car and freely left my colossal winter coat in the back seat. There was a surprisingly warm break in the streak of cold weather.

Walking towards the front door entrance of the grocery store,  I noticed a man sitting outside the sliding electric doors. He was asking incoming patrons for any spare coins or cash. I had neither.

Cautiously coming  up to him, I said with a little base in my voice, so as to  be heard over the very brisk Chicago winds, “I can get you something to eat.”

Huh?” he replied.  

“I can get you something to eat inside... if you want?”

“Oh okay... Yeah... yeah,” he said.

The man sat and waited for me outside the store. For whatever reason, I felt an unexpected surge of excitement once I walked inside. I wanted to get him something really good.

Hot broccoli cheddar soup or chicken tortilla soup? The choices the choices.

“Hi,” I said to a complete stranger, who proceeded in scooping some soup into his paper bowel.

“Is this soup good.. or is it just okay?“ I asked the man while giving a conspicuous look, demanding the utmost honesty.

After hearing his feedback, I made my final decision and poured the broccoli cheddar into my container.

I really hope he isn’t lactose intolerant.

Then I headed to the bakery section to grab some bread. I envisioned this older man dipping this bread into his hot soup and having it melt in his mouth.

Okay. Let me stop before I get ahead of myself. I’m all set. Actually, wait... who eats without getting something to drink?

Before I knew it, I almost forgot my reasoning for coming into the store in the first place. I said “almost” right? Because to be honest, the idea of eating some quality dark chocolate had been on the back of my mind all day. My hunger was just the perfect excuse to go out and buy it.

I scurried to the check out line and prayed that the gentleman hadn’t thought that I’d forgotten about him. By this time, I’d been inside the store well over 30 minutes.

Bags in hand, I walked out and saw the man in my periphery, seated in a different location along the perimeter of the store.

Excitement quickened my steps.

“Here you go,” I said while proudly  extending the brown paper bag towards him, replete with eating utensils and napkins.

“What's this?” he asked.  

“It’s some soup and…”

What I thought would be a grateful exchange, turned sour very quickly. The man began cursing and stating words not worth mentioning. From the little I gathered, this man didn’t approve of the bag being too bulky.

I snatched my hand away and walked towards my car with his food still gripped tightly around my fingers.

If you’re beginning to feel sorry for me and think I’m a saint and he a jerk, eh thank you, but keep reading.

I prayed in frustration:

Unbelievable God. I mean really. I thought this was something that You wanted for me to do. I thought...well maybe next time. Actually, I’m not done talking. It’s like, he just wasn’t thankful. Man Lord, I can’t believe that though. Here I was trying to make sure that this man could eat and that he had a nice meal.  Father, I got sourdough bread. I didn’t just get regular bread...but I got sour…dough.

By the time I reached my car, my spirit was light after rehearsing to the Lord my frustration. The situation actually became comical the more I thought about it.

While driving away, I called my girlfriend and rehashed to her the story. We laughed and went on to discuss different topics. But once I hung up with her, the imagery of this man’s look of grimace and disgust remained etched in my mind. I kept replaying the situation over and over again. And so I began praying for him.

And that’s when the Lord interrupted my thoughts.

The Lord began to remind me of all the detailed thought I executed when deciding this man’s meal.

From wanting to make sure his soup tasted good, to choosing the perfect bread, to carefully pondering a drink to wash down both, to ensuring that this man had all the right eating utensils and napkins, to desperately hoping that this man had waited patiently for me outside.

All this thought. All this time. All my inner excitement to give him what I’d prepared. And for him to complain about the bag being too bulky. I was frustrated. And honestly, even though he was a stranger, I felt hurt.

Remember this, Jessica?  I felt the Holy Spirit pressing in on my feeling. But I didn’t understand why.

And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. The thought came out of nowhere, but I knew the Lord was speaking directly to me.

Every time you compare your husband to someone else. Every time you complain to me about what he’s not doing, what he doesn’t have etc., you’re telling me that the gift that I’ve carefully assembled, treasured, and equipped to handle you… is not enough. Consider how much thought and perfection I’ve placed in handing you over to your husband and your husband to you for your possession. Stop comparing. Stop complaining. And thank me for him. His gifts, his talents, his personality, and even his flaws... are meant for you.

I held no anticipation that the Lord would use this strange man to show me myself.

This man was me. God showed me that I was him.

Every time I complain about my husband. Every time I pray to God to make my husband more this or that–prayers stated with nothing to do with God’s glory, the advancement of God’s kingdom, nor growth in my husbands spiritual vitality for the benefit of our family. But selfish prayers uttered with the only motivation to benefit me. When I do this, I’m basically waving my finger at God saying ,“What You have given me is not enough!”  

Whereas I walked away from that incident saying to myself “Ungrateful, ungrateful, ungrateful…” I do the same and often mask it as a prayer request.

The day I tried to feed a man in need, I walked away with a changed perspective.

PonderedThought: Maybe you aren’t married, or perhaps you can’t relate because you and your spouse are simply perfect. But if you can relate, stop selfishly complaining in your head against your spouse. Because when you do, you may be hurting the very heart of God by implicitly saying, “what You gave me wasn’t  good enough.” Instead, pray fervently for him or her. For God loves your spouse just as much as He loves you. Ponder on that thought.

(Blog post describes a memory experienced years ago, and yet still reflected upon due to its received revelation.)

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Why do we (women) hide so much

I walk into a social setting amongst other women. There, I see a pool of lovely ladies called my friends.

“Wow, Jess you’re hair looks so good.”

"Thank you!" I respond. 

But I’m not going to tell you that I stayed up watching natural hair videos on YouTube (for days), stayed up until 3:00 AM trying to perfect the three-strand twist out, and then pretended I was asleep at 6:00 AM so that my hubby could grab baby when little one began to cry.

“Your husband always showers you with compliments. You guys are so in love.”

….uh yeah. We just got into an argument on the way here. And yes, we love each other deeply-but trust me, it’s by choice every day. And speaking of choice, do you know why he’s complimenting me so much? Because he knows he needs to reassure me of certain truths due to my own personal insecurities. But nobody needs to know all of that. Let’s keep it light. So I’ll respond instead with...

“Yep, he’s a keeper!”

Why is it that when we get together, I’m not going to tell you that our light jokes are making me laugh and at the same time causing me to slip something “else” out due to subtle incontinence post pregnancy? Or that from the time you walked in, I’ve been sizing you up, unconsciously comparing my body, hair, and child to yours? Or that I canceled our last lunch date because I was simply “cramping,” when I really wanted to say that I felt like I was dying and felt all alone and just wanted my mama and questioned why the good Lord had to give us cycles every month?

I am being a bit dramatic, but then again, am I?

That day I wore my 4-inch heel. Let's just say, I haven't worn them since.

As women, I think we’ve made it our job to keep it together. From the time we were young, we’ve trained ourselves to go to school and hide the pain inside when we were cramping. We’ve held our breath when getting that first perm that felt like fire or those braids that felt much too tight, or when getting our eyebrows threaded or that wax down there. We’ve mastered the “walk,” even when those 4-inch heels were killing our feet.

We hide pain well. Some of us are better at it than others.

So you may be wondering, "what are you getting at Jess? All hese things aren't necessarily bad." You're right.  Ladies, I’m not here to tell you to stop. Do as you please. However, I am here to warn you of something much much graver.

When we take our ability to have it together physically and begin applying it to our inner lives, there will be trouble.

1 Timothy 5:24

"The sins of some are obvious, reaching the place of judgment ahead of them; the sins of others trail behind them."

If I can be honest, my "mom" friends and I do not struggle with sins that are obvious and outwardly seen. We are not sleeping around, drinking heavily, partying into the night, watching porn, or posting provocative pics on social media. In fact, most of us look “well put together.” We go to church, take care of our husbands, children, and homes. And responsibly take care of whatever else needs to be taken care of.

But if I must be blunt.

We (seemingly well-put together women) are the ones that you really need to watch out for.

For we struggle with sins that can’t be seen. Sins that no one will ever know about, if not confessed. And these, my friends, are much deadlier.

They can lurk behind the shadows and fester. They can wreak havoc in our hearts without anyone ever knowing. They can lead to thoughts that we’d never want to utter. And they can destroy our lives with one spark of a match.

These are the sins of one’s inner life.

It’s pride, jealousy, slander, adulterous thoughts, discontentment, judgment etc.  No, you may not see us downing a bottle of Hennessy, but drinking from the pool of evil thought and lies is just as worst.

So ladies, walk like a model in those heels, knowing good and well you will change into your flats as soon as you get into the car. I’m not mad at you.

But, I plead with you. Do not take this same kind of conditioning when it comes to your inner life. Be honest with your girlfriends, husbands, sisters. Confess your sins and ask for prayer. Because if you don’t, these untouched sins could destroy the fruit that the Holy Spirit wants to do in and through your life. Transparency is key.

Lately, there have been sins that I’ve had to confess to my husband that I am really ashamed to share. But in confessing, I have experienced the freedom of Christ in a way that is so powerful that Satan cannot hold me in bondage.

PonderedThought: You’re not perfect. You’re broken just like the next, so don’t take yourself so seriously that you feel pressured to keep upholding an image that is simply false. Humble yourself. Confess. And embrace the fullness of the cross. Yep, we all are in need of the Blood. You ain’t no different.

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Ladies, this is the one "thing" that shouldn't surprise you, but it ought to make you grieve

It was another phone call, another text, another conversation. As usual, I sat and listened to her.  I paused my thoughts and nodded without surprise. I highlight not one instance, but instead, I choose her to symbolize them all. It wasn’t the first time that I managed to listen, seemingly without judgment. But was I really not judging...or due to experience, was I simply devoid of all surprise?  

How’d I end up here?

When I was ten, I listened to my mom and one of her girlfriends recount a fight that had happened outside our nearby middle school. Without pause, an indescribable heaviness cloaked my entire being as tears fell without thought. The act of someone being hit, kicked, bruised...hurt. I didn’t know it then, but I was grieving. I was grieving over the fallen world in which I was living in and would later witness of its deepest fallacies even more—many of which would be found in me.

That heaviness remained throughout the day. But somewhere along the way, my grieving stopped. My tears remained dry. And I became accustomed to hearing story after story.

I thought that me listening to the sins of this world without blinking, without being surprised, meant that I’d finally matured from the quick act of judging when I’d hear another speak of one’s hidden sins; when I’d hear of the most perverse act; or when I’d hear of the crudest revenge played out on the news. I thought the fact that I could listen and not feel surprised meant that I created a safe space to allow another to confide in me and speak freely. But, one day recently, the Lord showed me that sin ought to not surprise me...but it ought to make me grieve. No, I don't mean that I should always manifest grief through tears, as I did when I was ten (though some circumstances may call for that).  

Instead, what I'm saying speaks more to the matter of the heart.

Because sin is death, it's okay to grieve and feel a certain level of spiritual heaviness when taking witness to sin in my life and even in others. When I don't, it's substitute—cynicism—easily slips in and skews my view on life. Once cynicism takes root, it leads to hopelessness, and hopelessness leads to despair. 

But, you may still be wondering, "Why Grieve?" "Grieve" is such a strong action word.  

Because when you see God offering a storage of everlasting water, yet persons walking around thirsty for illicit sex, attention, validation, love, money; when you see God offering us unshakable joy, and yet so many paying high costs for temporary gratifications; when you see God offering us eternal dwellings, where moth and dust cannot destroy, and yet so many settling for makeshift tents; when you see God offering Himself...and us exchanging Him for _____ because He just isn't enough, it should make you and I grieve.   

The heaviness that I felt as a little girl when witnessing hate is reminiscent to the heaviness I feel when I see the disintegration of a friend’s marriage, when I hear of another’s struggle with sexual immorality, when I see a family filled with strife and dysfunction, when I hear of a former friend now hooked on cocaine, and when I see my own inner pride choose to unleash venom towards my beloved. No, I don’t have to be surprised. BUT, I ought to take pause to grieve.

Why?

Because, this was never the Lord’s intended plan. This was never the Lord’s intended purpose for our lives. This was not how it was meant to be.  And that my friend, should make one grieve.

I encourage you to take time to grieve and feel the Father's heart. And once you do, simultaneously grab onto hope for dear life. Pray—acknowledging how messed up this life and you are.  And then, with all eyes on the light of Christ, with all eyes filled to the brim with the vision of a life that is to come but not yet, silently ask, “Redeem that which is broken. Fix what my eyes can see is messed up. Take back allllllll that Satan has stolen. And make new again.”

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Favor Ain't Fair: Why I Struggle Praying for "Favor"

Have you ever experienced favor from the Lord? No, not in a way in which you subscribe to false humility by secretly acknowledging that a certain result was by your own merit. I mean that moment when you knew, without a doubt, that you didn’t deserve that grade, that observation, that evaluation report, that bonus, or that grace from a coworker, friend, or boss. Of course this is a conundrum of a question, because when do we ever really “deserve” anything except death? But you know what I mean...right?

I experienced the favor of the Lord on my job when recently pregnant. There were sooooooo many times in which I didn't have a lesson prepared (I'm a teacher), and somehow on days such as that, I taught the best lesson of my life. Another example included a time when I needed to create a project for students to do, and through limited time, I did so in a very rushed manner. Later, students told me how that project changed their life (what, really?!). It was during these times in which I knew that there was nothing at all for me to accredit my success to except by the favor of the Lord. He literally had His hand on me.

And yet, there have been several instances in my life in which I’ve not asked for the favor of the Lord.

Why? Ummm.... because I secretly think that I don’t need it (insert *gasp).

What do I mean? I think to myself the following thoughts: "I got this. I can do this on my own. I’ll ask for favor only on things that I know that I can’t do."  I know it sounds silly, but these are my true thoughts. 

But if I were to really look to the root as to why I think these thoughts, it's due to these two points: 

1. If I can be honest, I want to secretly bask in my own glory when things go well. I want to pride myself in my own capabilities when things go exactly according to plan.  Subsequently, I end up judging  others by secretly thinking..,“well things didn’t go well for them because they didn’t do “xyz.” What pride. Yes, what pride :(.

2. Secondly, I succumb to these thoughts because (don’t judge me), I think that my own capabilities are more reliable than relying on or even seeking the favor of the Lord. Instead of running to the Lord and asking Him to grace me in my shortcomings, I seek ways for me to actively fix my shortcomings. The former requires faith. The latter allows pride to fester when things go well; but it also allows for feelings of inferiority to seep in when things don’t go well. My pursuit of the Lord's favor and my responsibility to improve upon my shortcomings shouldn't be mutually exclusive. Instead, both should be beautifully coupled together. Unfortunately, I tend to lean more towards the "fixing."

In short, when I experience the favor of the Lord, there is no room for glory. There are no doors for pride to be opened. I am left only to praise Him for His goodness, His willingness, His grace, and His mercy; while also being acutely aware of my own misgivings when left without His favor.

PonderedThought:  I encourage you to pray for the favor of the Lord in every aspect of your life. His favor is not limited! If married, ask for favor in yall’s marriage. If working, ask for favor with your boss and in your work. If a mother, ask for supernatural favor to obtain more sleep, to  keep the house in order, and to not be driven to insanity when looking at "organized" chaos (you can tell I’m a new mom, huh?) In short, we need the favor of the Lord. Don’t be ashamed or prideful to begin asking for it. And when you do, be reminded of whom you ought to praise when things go well.

Favor is never fair. Simply except it and praise God for HIs grace. 

This little one reminds me of God's favor. There was nothing I did to deserve this gift of motherhood.

See link below in order to learn "what is" and "how to pursue" the favor of God.

**https://www.gotquestions.org/favor-of-God.html

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Lord, Make Me Like a Child Again

Have you ever heard the phrase, “I wanna be a kid again”? 

I hear this phrase often when adults refer to the absence of bills, stress, and major responsibilities that children have. 

Hmmm....that would be nice in some ways. 

Interestingly, the Lord is beckoning us to become like children again—not for the aforementioned reasons. Nor in terms of returning to the little wisdom, knowledge, and discernment we had as children. 

The Lord is wanting us to become like children again through our disposition towards Him.

“Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
”

— Matthew 19:14

Recently, while at the park with my kiddos, I observed my three-year-old and twenty-month-old running on the asphalt. 

Their expressions pinpointed a joy and a looseness that I craved.

Their movements lacked a sense of awareness and need for perfection that I coveted.

They simply ran.

Coats hanging half off. Arms swinging awkwardly. Feet shuffling this way and that.

When they ran, I didn't see worry etched across their faces. I didn't see doubt. I saw very little self-consciousness.

Instead, I witnessed a beauty within their displayed confidence in simply being able to run. 

I saw freedom, y’all.

As an adult, I’ve learned the social cues, the proper responses, and the ability to maintain control in both movement and word.

I’ve learned the right moments to laugh, the perfect moments to smile, and the appropriate gestures to make in order to appear mature.

I don't run with the sense of freedom my children possess. 

Yet, when I come to the throne of mercy and of grace, I sense the Holy Spirit beckoning me to strip off my clothing and to allow His presence to burn away that which I most want others to see—my very adult-like exterior shell.

When He does so, I feel naked and exposed. My eyes suddenly become open to the wickedness that lays in my heart, and I become ashamed. He reveals my hidden thoughts and my hidden motives. The “adult” in me wants to quickly put my clothes back on. I want to leave His presence and come back with thicker clothing—harder to remove.

I find justifications.

I deflect.

I push away- afraid of the light that burns away the carnal. I frantically look for the strands of thread that I think are somewhat clean.

But right before I resort to running away all together, God's manifest presence overwhelms. Suddenly, I'm reminded of what it feels like to be a child again. 

I'm reminded of the inexpressible joy and freedom obtained in His Presence when I relinquish my wants and desires through surrender and trust.

He's a Good Good Father. 

I remember the warmth....yes, the warmth when I replace my substandard clothing in exchange for His royal clothing of righteousness. 

Why do I forget this feeling? Why is it so hard to answer the call when God says, “Come to me, Jessica, like a child?”

Because in every part of my life, I’ve tried to hide being like a child. I’ve mistaken maturity for a lack of excitement, for a lack of making mistakes, for a lack of being vulnerable to exposing that I’m fallen and in desperate need of a Savior. For the sake of being mature, I mask pain. I find remedies.

Why do I do this??

I’ve learned that there are little avenues in life in which one can appear weak, incompetent, unstable...and broken—in need of assistance.

Ohhhhh…But there is one. It's in His Presence.

Children are dependent. Despite their obvious inadequacies, to others and to even themselves, they are still able to run freely in the fields of the unknown, completely comfortable. Why? I think it’s because they know that they still have time to grow. I think as long as they know that there is One who knows the way, they rest in simply enjoying the ride.

Prayer: Make us like children, Abbah. May Your Holy Presence burn away the fake clothes that we wish to put on in order to cover the scars, weaknesses, and even our own wickedness. We stand before you naked—in full belief that if we are Your children, You clothe us with Your own clothes of righteousness. Clothes that can never be removed, replaced, or altered. Make us like  children again, where we can run through the fields with You, unashamed, and in full trust that the work that You began in us..You will complete.

I challenge you to pray to Him as a child, in complete need of the Father—knowing that He already knows of your your sin, your impure thoughts, your impure motives—and yet He still loves. His presence is the safest for confession and repentance. He’s a Good Good Father.

Confess sin as sin in His presence and be oh so thankful for the reality of Christ’s forgiveness. Be oh so thankful that as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed your sins from you. Be oh so thankful for your imputed righteousness. Be oh so thankful that YOU ARE the righteousness of Christ. YOU are a co-heir with Christ! YOU are wrapped in His glory. YOU ARE a new creation! You ARE already seated with Christ in heavenly places.


Simply come to Him and don’t be ashamed of your great need to do so. In doing so, You will experience the utmost freedom. “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom (2 Corinthians 3:17). “

Blog Post Inspired from the following passage:

“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.”

— Revelation 3: 17-18

My sexy husband and our son.

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