Reflective Moments

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #6

Hey, Sweeties!

You already know that I love you to the moon and beyond. I think all of you are absolutely exceptional. Your minds work so fast because you grew up in a world where it had to. Your creativity is so diverse that I’m just grateful to have a seat in the audience.

Unbeknownst to you, I loved you before I saw you. For real. In most cases, I was with your mother and/or father up to the final hours before you graced us with your presence. It was so cool to stroll down the memory lanes of our friendship as I held you for the first time or shared our first conversation. It was official — you were an addition to my village too. It’s difficult to fathom, but your parent(s) actually had a different life before you got here and I was in it, so by default, you’re part of a tribe. A loving tribe.

Let me tell you some things that you may forget later.

First, the world owes you nothing, so do not hold back who you are. Do exactly what you were born to do — no exceptions. If that’s being a mechanic, you better shine doing it and let me book a service appointment. If that’s being a fashion designer, you better throw your whole self in it and let me buy one of your pieces. Remember that you will always have access to me. Some of you already have proof of that as we’ve laughed, learned, or navigated difficult conversations. Others have yet to redeem that perpetual offer, but you know it’s there. Either way, you have a support system, Love… a whole tribe. Don’t let anyone or anything make you feel alone.

Next, work smart and play hard. Laziness will get you nowhere and you know I will call you out on it, so don’t slip. I’m hard on you because I know what you can do. I know the stock you came from. I know how serious your parent(s) was about your health, safety, and education before you were a teenager. I know how hard they studied in school. I know how many times they picked themselves up after being knocked down, so I know what’s in you. I accept nothing less your best.

Lastly, I hope you soar beyond thunderstorms of negativity and that every word against you bounces off your Loving armor. Trust me — more clouds are coming but they don’t have to be gray. The lightning bolts of unexpected failures don’t have to take you out of the game. When you feel overwhelmed, remember that moment is just a blip on your life spectrum. It does not define you and it will pass. I promise.

I’m so proud of you already. You are exquisitely created to go beyond this generation into the deep waters of progress. Move forward and know that I will always have your back.

See you around,

CJW

November 6, 2020 2

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #5

Hello There, Thinker.

There are so many avenues in you. I do so much without your permission. From creative to correlative, I stretch you more than Elastigirl’s arms.

One of my fears is that you will forget everything. I’ve seen it happen to my loved ones and it was detrimental to the spirit of their existence. They forgot who I was. Their temperament changed at the drop of a dime. Sometimes they would stare off in the distance and I longed for them to return. So, I stretch you — daily. I weave the needles of my to-do lists in and out of you like a skilled seamstress. I hope it works in our favor.

Remember when you couldn’t grasp the concept of negative numbers, but you easily understood neurological transmitters? I was so frustrated with you and I thought you were defective. I didn’t know that I was gifted. I simply felt weird and out of place.

Remember when I prayed that God would make you normal so I would stop being teased? It took awhile, but I learned to embrace the way you work. You compute situations in futuristic tense yet turn off before you overload. How exceptional is that?

Remember the first time I envisioned choreography while my eyes were open? Wow, did it take my breath away. It felt like I was teleported into a creative universe. You tried to process so many pictures at once, so much movement in a moment. I pray we never forget it. I pray we never forget anything.

Store my memories well.
Hide them safely.
Let them roam free if the dark times are coming.

I don’t speak the worst over myself, but neither did my loved ones. It just happened. So, when no one is watching or while everyone sleeps, tiptoe to the file cabinets and pull out whatever tickles your fancy. You hold great things in the folds of my humanity and I have experienced incredible moments.

Here’s to you remembering them all. Here’s to recalling names, places, and things. Here’s to laughing at old jokes and dancing to my favorite tunes. We’ve got a ways to go, I believe, so I’m asking God to keep you safe and sound. In the meantime, thanks for all you do. Thank you for processing critical thoughts. Thank you for digesting everything I slam on your plate. The various mental tabs that open throughout the day. The big ideas. The little details. You do great things because a great God created you. For that, I will always believe that He will take care of us.

Sincerely,

CJW

November 5, 2020 2

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #4

Pop, you’re the real MVP.

After raising children on your own, you decided to accept a single mother as your wife and a bitter pre-teen as your daughter. I couldn’t be more grateful for you.

I’m so glad that I was able to tell you everything I wanted to while you were here. I have absolutely no regrets in our relationship. My love for you grew into a beautiful tree that I still pick from well after you’re gone. The fruit of our memories are so sweet.

One day, I watched you walk down into the dog lot and I said to myself — “They’re Friends.” You walked with God daily. I could hear you praying through my bedroom wall every morning. I saw you bless those that outwardly cursed you. You didn’t just pastor a church; you lifted the Word from the pages and let them saturate your life. You helped widows. You kept deacons out of trouble. You sat at the dining room table with at least 5 books open as you combed the Scriptures (Internet who?). You gave vegetables from your garden to anyone who wanted them. You mentored other ministers. Even when rif rafs broke into our home more than once, you said “Let it go.” I simply remember your kindness toward people and toward my mean self too. It wasn’t you. It was my fear leaking into my actions. I was scared that my mother wouldn’t have enough space in her heart to love us both — after all, it had just been the two of us for all of my life at least. It’s so ludicrous to say aloud, but it was definitely how I felt back then. I’m glad we ended up talking about that too and hugging it out. Your arms were wide enough to handle anything I brought to the table.

I remember the time the school office called you because I needed to be checked out. Mommy was at work and you were at home being amazing as usual with home-cooked meals, clean laundry on the clothes lines, and a freshly mowed lawn. After your stroke, you couldn’t go back to work, so you took care of our home lives without a shred of complaint. That day, severe menstrual cramps caused me to vomit and shiver. I was doubled over on that carpeted floor in anguish. I couldn’t sit up let alone stand up. Trying to hold on to my perfect attendance, I held on until after lunch then I caved and agreed to let them call as I rolled over to my side. With no cell phone in our worlds, you came to the rescue in that old pickup truck with the dog pen in the back like real Marvel Comic hero. The limp from your stroke couldn’t stop you. Your swollen hand couldn’t prevent you from steering to me. It never did. You were the cavalry that day and all the others thereafter.

What about when you washed my clothes and the whole load turned pink… *giggle* I was so mad as I pulled my shirts and underwear out of the washer like they were sprayed by a skunk. Then, I heard the Holy Spirit say “At least they’re clean.” *laugh* I couldn’t debate that. Then came Mommy’s wisdom about you being man enough to do my laundry while I was at school and how I should be grateful. Needless to say, I didn’t complain again.

I sure do miss you. The snowy white strands of hair on your head. Your quick wit. The multiple pair of overalls. I can still hear your voice clearly giving sound counsel when I want to go off on someone. You had so much trust in me… that I would make wise decisions. You even helped my mother to trust me too. As I write this letter, I am smiling so wide because I had the best experience as your daughter. I was in good hands. You told my mother that you wanted me to feel a father’s love. Well, congratulations Pop, I did.

I love you always. Have fun up there.

CJW

November 4, 2020 2

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #3

Mommy, you’re a real one.

No, seriously… you are. I can’t think of many people that have endured what you have and still laugh as heartily as you do. You created opportunities for me and others to flourish at your expense and those decisions must have been difficult to digest at times. The reality is that your plans had to be altered because of a little one that looked like you and I appreciate every decision you made.

I know you say that I wasn’t a burden and that I was a gift from God. You’re so kind. I can’t help but think of the moment you found out and just be grateful that I’m here.

Although I’ve told you numerous times, I want to tell you again — there is so much to admire about you and you are blessing to my world.

First, you’re the best cheerleader anyone could have. Period. In all of my creative endeavors, academic achievements, professional frustrations, I stand tall because I know you’re in my corner. No matter where I am in life, I hear you in my heart. Your voice stands out like Love in the darkness. I appreciate that about you… that your arms are always there, straight up and victorious. And you not only do this for me, you uplift others just as high. One phone call from you and that person can’t help but feel like a champion. You hold no love back from anyone who needs it. I get that from you indeed.

Next, I am so proud of the woman you have become. The Holy Spirit once said to me, “She was a woman before she was your mother.” That sentence enlightened me. It carried so much truth. Before your title included another, you were a young lady navigating through life and now, as time brings about changes, you are a woman still. How you’ve learned to embrace your natural hair again, understand your body, and improve your health… it’s all fascinating and inspiring. Watching you take care of Pop was like watching Jesus in action. You went from pastor’s wife to devoted caregiver in less than 2 years. On many days, I was simply awestruck. I can’t wait to see how you evolve even further into your seasoned self. You still get excited when you learn something new and it brightens my spirit to see you elated. You’re exceptional in my eyes already, but I know you are nowhere near your peak season.

Lastly, thank you for always thinking of me. That may seem weird to say since you’re my mother, but all mothers do not think of their children. I do not take that for granted. You always say “We help each other.” We’ve had our communication challenges, but we did the work and look at us… on the other side of all that mess. When we decided to listen to each other’s heart and put God in the middle, fresh wind resuscitated our relationship and I’m so grateful for it. We know when each other needs a break. We ask for clarification. We catch each other’s tones. We check each other when we’re wrong. We accept one another’s personality types. You don’t try to make me like you and I don’t set you upon unrealistic pedestals. We learned how to grow together without infiltrating each other’s gardens. You trust God’s Word in me. I trust Him in you. Just like our twilight conversations, it’s a beautiful exchange between kindred souls.

Mommy, I appreciate the powerhouse you are. I always ask God to give me even richer experiences with you for as long as possible. There’s so much more that I want us to share. More travels. More laughs. While I know death is inevitable for either of us, I know heaven is too. That’s the best gift you could have given me — Christ. I will always be grateful for that decision too.

I love you/Talk to you soon,

CJW

November 3, 2020 2

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #2

I really do believe you did the best you could with what you had; nevertheless, I have so many questions.

First, thank you for serving our country. I appreciate you for signing up during a time when Black men were still seen as inferior in many places. You volunteered to serve anyway and I will never forget that.

I see similarities in us and wonder if we would have been a winning team. Your laugh, according to others, was bright. I don’t know what it sounds like but I do remember your smile. I remember your embrace in the two memories I can recall. You seemed like the life of the party. I found out that you were so musically-minded that you scratched records like a disk jockey just for fun.

You wrote poetry. The only one I remember had a line about a tree in it. Grandma had it framed and it sat on the coffee table well after you were gone. The syntax was too complicated for my pre-school-aged mind even though I had written my first short story in Kindergarten and it won a place in a state competition. I was so proud of that —- that I could write just like you— and I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. I had grown accustomed to your absence.

It’s easy to create an alternate ending to our story without the dark fibers woven in between. I can’t paint you as a villain because again, I believe you did the best you could with what you had. You were dealing with a lot. Processing a lot without allowing it to digest through your soul.

What I do appreciate is the way you would bring me chocolate cupcakes when you came to visit. It let me know that you thought of me while you were gone. Your nickname for me always made me smile too. Your skin was chocolate… like mine. I wanted to touch your face many times just to test the smoothness of your cheeks and the roundness of your nose.

The genetic material that makes up half of my existence is filled with parts of you. Your passion for life. Your spontaneity. Your friendliness. Your lightheartedness. Your poetic pen. I believe I get that from you. Some days, I wish I could go deep sea diving into your psyche… to see your heart space through these adult goggles of mine and find where my spot was located in the darkness. Since you left Earth early, I’ll never know except what others tell me and that will have to be enough. It has served me with rich information so far yet left me yearning to fill the canyon of emptiness.

God knew what He was doing. That’s how I have to think about it. God knew there was trouble ahead and that Mommy could handle it. I have to admit — it was weird grieving over someone I barely knew. I remember going back into my grandmother’s living room to watch television after she and my mother broke the news. I could hear them talking in the kitchen, but it faded into a muffle behind Nick At Nite. I didn’t know what to feel, so I felt nothing. I remember my mind going blank as the black-and-white images flickered on the screen.

When I returned to school, a teacher passed out an information sheet for us to complete. I raised my hand when I got to the line that said “father” because I didn’t know what to write. I was only in 2nd or 3rd grade. I learned that day to write the word “deceased” whenever I saw “father” on documents. It was an odd revelation for a kid. I knew the meaning of the word “cease” from the soulful Douglas Miller tune My Soul Has Been Anchored In The Lord, but de-ceased made no sense to me. The prefix was supposed to cancel out the root word, so I thought. Confused, I wrote it anyway because that’s what I was told was proper. That was one of the distinct moments I realized you were gone forever, and a part of me that I would never know went with you.

All in all, I know you would be proud of the woman I have become. I know you would be reading every word I write and we would talk about it over the phone. We would probably laugh a bit too. You just seemed to be that type of guy. I don’t know if we would have seen each other often, but I’m certain we would have talked. I believe you would have tried to make every graduation and tried to call for birthdays. I believe you would have done the best you could. I’ll hold on to that. Forever until.

I love you and thank you for what you’ve given me.

Sincerely,

CJW

November 2, 2020 6

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #1

Well, here we are.

One day, I was questioning Your existence and the next, You grew to be the most intimate Friend I could ever have.

I remember those confusing days. Going to church not knowing if You loved me the way You loved the people around me. Wondering if the sometimes-wild-yet-intriguing “Holy Ghost shout” would hit me next. I knew You were real; You just didn’t feel real to me. Then, I prayed earnestly with the fervent hope that You would answer in some way, shape, or form. I wondered… I waited… I wanted to experience what I heard every Sunday. I didn’t want to just read the stories, close the Book, and leave the faith between the pages.

I was hungry for it.

I was hungry for You.

I had questions and everyone kept saying You had answers. So, one prayer led to another… then another… and another…

Photo by Aslak Su00f8nderland on Pexels.com

Now, my faith encompasses everything I do. My identity, which once felt foreign, now is the super-suit in which I walk because I am confident in Your Creation. I am confident in You. My skin, my voice, my need to understand the world around me — all of it comes from You. They not only make me unique; they are proof that You exist. Who else could generate such biological genius that we have yet to discover? Who else could create underwater miracles that have yet to be named by scientists? No one. No thing.

So, my letter to You is one of Love, Gratitude, and Honor. I appreciate my mother for saturating our home with Your Word. I appreciate my father for allowing me to write down his sermon thoughts and outlines. Those were the best bible studies. Asking questions of my pastor and researching psalmic histories made me thirst for intimacy between us. No longer were You a long-distance love, but an everyday companion. The Greek. The Hebrew. The context. The maps. I found it all fascinating yet so expansive that I would get overwhelmed… but it left me wanting to know more. When I cried alone, I began to feel the warmth of Your comfort. When I was scared and needed a miracle, no explanation would fit except that You heard me.

Thank You for hearing me. Thank You for being with me. Thank You for being in me. I couldn’t do this life without You and thanks to our relationship, I never will.

Sincerely,

CJW

November 1, 2020 4

Wednesday Wind Down: Not It

Hi, Sweethearts!

You made it to another week. How are you? I’m glad you’re here.

I have a thought for you. Ready? Let’s go.

Once upon a time (in real life), there was a grocery store called Food World. In Food World, there was a bakery and in the bakery was a woman with confectionery superpowers — at least that’s how I saw her as an elementary-aged child. While my single mother meticulously made sure we were fed by scouring each aisle for the best deals, I was fascinated with the sugary symphony on the other side of the glass window.

First, her skin was brown like mine, so I saw my reflection. Her smile was wide and sweet. She always acknowledged my presence and didn’t seem to mind my wide eyes glued to her work as my mother shopped. Mind you, this was when you could somewhat safely leave your child at a small town grocery store bakery window and knew she would be there when you returned. Talk about visions of sugar plums… I didn’t have to wait until my dreams to see the magic. She would sprinkle powdered sugar like fresh snow. She might as well have been a samurai with the way she sliced cake rounds in half and waved frosting between each layer. Her wrists carefully swiveled as frosting oozed out of the piping bag forming flowers and leaves. I especially liked the pink frosting. It complimented her skin so well. As I’ve said before… I’ve always been an observer. Many trips later, I could guess the end result of her creations before she finished the process — a boy’s birthday, a wedding, a strawberry shortcake… they were all gorgeous to me, but maturity started to tap on my shoulder to remind me that they were intended for specific people. They were all beautiful, but they were not mine.

How often do we become enchanted with something or someone who does not belong to us? The perks of the job may be perfect or his smile may put you in a trance, but have you considered whether the design is for you? Sure, it is lovely, but is it yours? See, every cake had a name. Each dessert was crafted with a request in mind. Sometimes I would even see her place it in the box and put it in the commercial refrigerator. I could admire as much as I wanted, but there was no way those sweets were coming home with me.

Sweethearts, God has crafted opportunities and relationships just for you. Every open door is not the perfect door for you. It could very well be the answered prayer for someone else. With that in mind, it is imperative that we allow the Holy Spirit to guide us through decisions. Yes, we have free will, but we also have a Guide. Who couldn’t use a Guide during times like this?

I’m praying for you out there. Keep staying safe and stay grounded in what you know. You are a beautiful creation and it’s OK to say “not it” if necessary.

Peace & Thanks for listening!

October 21, 2020 0

Wednesday Wind Down: Stickers

Hello, Sweethearts!

Here’s a shortstop (a 500-words-or-less-post) for your week.

Ever since I was a child, I’ve loved stickers. They were expressive and comforting. They represented my voice when I didn’t want to talk. They ranged from Lisa Frank to historical landmarks.

The problem came when my mother wanted a clean surface or I wanted to change the look of my binder. Those stickers could be so difficult to remove. This same difficulty occurred with people placed labels on me growing up.

You’re too quiet.
You act like you’re better than us.
You think you’re smart.
You talk White.
You’re too dark.
You’re too tomboyish.
You’re so prissy.
You’re not aggressive enough.
Your panties must be dipped in holy water.
You stay to yourself too much.
You don’t smile enough.
You’re too sensitive.
You’re too nice.

Stickers. Labels. The ones you just read were stuck all over me from elementary school onward and I desperately tried to change every last one of them… trying to conform to the shape of the sticker just to please the person that put it on my body. It was exhausting to migrate between two polarized ends trying to find the center like the bubble on a level tool. No matter what I did, I couldn’t get it right. I was always too something. It took two decades to absorb God’s Truth about my existence and allow His Love to wash that residue off my spirit. I realized and accepted the fact — Labels do not dictate me. They describe one’s perception, but they do not determine my craftsmanship and my footsteps.

Over time, as I let the warmth of the Father’s Light shine on my soul, I embraced my “too” somethings. My sensitivity was my superpower to empathize with others and see pain past the smiles. My sweetness was my weapon to confuse instigators and diffuse volatile situations. My desire not to have casual sex brought me peace of mind when my cycle was late. My quietness enhanced my listening prowess and critical thinking skills. None of these things meant I was superior to anyone; I just knew at an early age the state in which my Peace liked to live.

I learned that the way God made me was not incorrect. I was not defective. My introversion was not a bad thing. Every attribute and every trait was carefully placed with His purpose in mind and I still walk in that Truth today.

Sweetheart, walk in the Craftsmanship in which you were made (Ephesians 2:10). You were created by a Master Builder. Don’t let the stickers overstay their welcome. You are way too extraordinary for that.

Peace, Thanks for listening, and stay well out there.

October 14, 2020 5

Wednesday Wind Down: Vitamin Boost

Hello, Sweethearts!

I wanted to share four verses that may help you get through this week or this season. Think of them as vitamins for your spiritual immune system. You may be taking a hit between current events, homeschooling your kids, caregiving for a loved one, or juggling work deadlines. Your spiritual armor may have a few dents in it and that’s OK. That means you’re fighting. That means you’re surviving. That means you’re winning. So, let’s power up a little. There’s nothing wrong with taking your vitamins.

*Thank you, YouVersion – The Bible App.*

“But as for me, I will sing about your power. Each morning I will sing with joy about your unfailing love. For you have been my refuge, a place of safety when I am in distress.” – Psalm 59:16 NLT

When we drench ourselves in Love, He makes our hearts impenetrable to anything that looks otherwise. It’s a way to gear up with what’s true instead of the fiery darts melting away your joy. Clothe yourself in what’s true. Armor yourself with the Truth that you are loved. Reach out to someone that loves you to circulate that superpower.

2. “I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” – John 16:33

His bowels were hanging out. They had beaten him beyond recognition. He wasn’t as white and clean as we’ve seen in pious paintings. He was bloody and his hair was matted from to his scalp underneath the crown of thorns. After all, when blood dries, it isn’t glamorous. Jesus knew what it was like to be deemed inferior, yet He tells his disciples to take heart because He already overcame the world… before He is arrested to die for it (John 18). You have the right to take heart too. I promise.

3. “For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.” – Ephesians 6:12

It’s hard to look someone in the eyes and know s/he/they are lying to you. It’s frustrating to explain why you’re wearing your protective mask when it seems obvious. It can make you angry when someone refuses your help. So, let me help you, Sweetheart. You’re fighting a spiritual battle. The quicker you remember that, the less those darts will hurt. Does this mean you’ll be invincible? No. It means you won’t let those darts stick because you’ll separate the person you love from the behavior you hate.

4. “Using a dull ax requires great strength, so sharpen the blade. That’s the value of wisdom; it helps you succeed.” – Ecclesiastes 10:10

Boost your spirit with wisdom. Now, in order to that, humility must come with you. To gain wisdom, you have to admit that you are not all-knowing. Pride damages armor. What a foolish decision for a soldier to run in front of a formidable straight line of opponents without protection. This is how we look when we leave wisdom behind to pursue items on our own accord. Like the Word says, sharpen your ax. When the ax is sharp, the skill is able to shine.

Well, Sweethearts, I hope these vitamins help you go a little further on your journey. I love each and every one of you, so if you ever feel like you’re drowning in your situation or that your suffocating under the “I’m fine” syndrome, call the number — 800-273-8255. Counselors are available 24/7.

Peace & Blessings! Thank you for listening and stay well out there!

October 7, 2020 0

Listening at the Speed of Life

– by C. J. Wade –

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#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #6

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #5

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #4

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #3

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #2

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #1

Wednesday Wind Down: Not It

Wednesday Wind Down: Stickers

Wednesday Wind Down: Vitamin Boost

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– by C. J. Wade –

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