There’s much to say…therefore I’ll keep this short.
There’s much heavy. So heavy I don’t even if know if I can organize my thoughts properly under the weight of it.
It’s still Winter. Always Winter.
Meshell, who loves me deeply -whom I love and trust deeply- says that the Devil has been trying to take me out of the game since birth. She’s right. When I was in utero, a Pastor told my Mother to abort me. How shameful for a unmarried white woman to give birth to a married black man’s child! How dare she consider allowing a bastard black child into this world in 1976?
In allowing my birth, my Mother -in essence- told that Pastor to go fuck himself.
*Language trigger alert: I will probably use more choice language in this post, because I am at the bitter end of my emotional limits and censorship isn’t a top priority for today.*
Meshell reminded me of that this morning bright & early. She wanted me to be aware of that dynamic as I consider the major life-altering decisions I’m in the midst of. What does it mean, she says, for that to be true?
What if it’s true now?
Jeanie-Bop, who loves me deeply -whom I love and trust deeply- asks me the other day if I truly believe God’s wrath was carried out fully in Jesus on cross. I guess, I say. I ramble on, ‘I mean, yes, of course, I believe that.’ It is, after all, at the heart of my faith. Jesus died for our sins blah blah blah. Most of us raised in typical evangelical homes, seeped in Christian schools and A.W.A.N.A.’s can recite the Gospel in our sleep. BUT. What does it mean when the shitteth hath hitteth the faneth? When you feel like you could grab Jesus by the throat and spit in his face your doggone self?
Then, friends, this whole he-died-for-me shit feels hella different.
Cindy, who loves me deeply -whom I love and trust deeply- texts “dude…God.” (She says a lot of other profoundly deep things as well but this is what got me). Dude. God. It’s simple. It’s not cliche. It’s not an easy answer. It’s me saying here is a 100 ft. cliff I’d like to jump off and her texting, “dude…gravity.” It was profound to me because NO ONE DOUBTS GRAVITY and who the hell lets a friend jump a cliff? And so she texts, “dude…God,” and I get it because she’s appealing to my basic core belief: God. fucking. loves. you. That is all there is.
I am God’s fucking beloved daughter, that is all there is.
I don’t know ANYTHING else in the world but that He is ALL THAT IS CERTAIN…I think.
Everyone else can fall away, so I tell the Lord…
Okay. I’m here. Still here, just like the Winter.
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