bloglikecrazy

#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: Here We Go

Well, Sweetheart, it’s November. Whew!

If you’ve been with me for a couple of years, you already know what time it is — it’s #bloglikecrazy with See Jane Write. For 30 days in November, I’m going to share special content with you and I’m looking forward to it. This annual writing challenge is hosted by Javacia Harris Bowser, my official empowerment pusher and writers from everywhere join the opportunity to post on their blogs for 30 consecutive days or participate in NaNoWriMo by writing a novel by the end of November.

This is my fifth time in the boxing ring with my fall nemesis. That’s how I see #bloglikecrazy — a stealthy feminine boxer customized to make me better. She mean-mugs me and taps her pink gloves together in October so I remember she’s been training for me. Our matches began with me just keeping my head above the literary waves to developing themes to cracking open some of the most intimate areas of my soul. After all, bloggers write to share experiences. We write to connect with others who may be part of our tribe. I’m no different.

The first year I tried to beat my sparring partner, I lost. I underestimated her. I thought — I can do this. I write all the time. Pshht. Such hubris. I crawled past the 30-day finish line well past November.

In 2017, I stretched my skills and jumped back into the ring. This time, my goal was to expound the use of one word every day.

In 2018, my theme was 30 Days of Good. That year hosted such stress that I had to highlight 30 good things that happened to me to stay sane — from attending a dinner party in my sweaty performance clothes to volunteering at UTR to being taught by my colleague in massage therapy school.

In 2019, the theme was Peep My Prayers. I gave an inside look into 30 of my personal prayers to encourage you to peel back the layers and communicate authentically with God.

This year, I’m sharing Open Letters in hopes that you are inspired to speak authentically to yourself and to each other. We’re living in a world where there’s so much fire and ice — both being deadly. I find it urgent that we not only speak freely when it comes to opinionated political stances, but when it’s time to address pain, concern, and love.

Once again, God is stretching my comfort zone by going deeper and I hope it helps. Once again, I’m slightly nervous but excited about where this path will lead. Once again, I’m looking forward to kicking it with you in November.

See you Sunday, Sweethearts. Let’s do this together.

October 29, 2020 0

#bloglikecrazy: Peep My Prayers #30

Prayer: “JESUS!”

Sometimes, that’s all you have time to say. In a split second, your life could be in danger or you’re so far in despair that you can’t see a way out of your situation. In times like those, I learned that the name of Jesus IS a prayer. Let me tell you why.

We love justice. We love to see those that have wronged society get what they deserve. Since we were created by God, I believe his spiritual fingerprint is on our lives. So, that justice-seeking attribute, that is a God-like quality in the form of Jehovah El Gemuwal – The LORD God of Recompense. Because this same standard applies to our wrongdoings, Jesus died and rose from the grave so we could be freed from the power and perpetual penalty of sin. When Jesus died on the cross, he provided the opportunity for freedom to be our lifestyle instead of a historical luxury for the affluent, lawful, and patriarchy. Take the woman who was caught in the act of adultery. The law stated that she be stoned, but Jesus brought up a great point — that the law needed to apply to the accusers as well. He then pardoned the woman and told her to go and sin no more. That’s the power that I believe in. His name is like no other.

So, you best believe, when I only had that split second during a drive or doctor’s appointment, the only thing I could think to say was the name that I believe is above all names. Is it a magic trick where everything goes perfectly whenever I say it? Absolutely not. Bad things still happen; we see it every day on the news. I also know that in times when I could have had justice, I was given grace and that’s enough for me to keep believing… and praying.

I’ve enjoyed you this month and I hope that I’ve said something that will carry you into the new year. You have been exceptional company and I’m glad you chose to stop by my writing home this month. Next week, we’re back to the Wednesday Wind Downs. See you then and stay safe out there.

Peace & Thanks for listening. *drop mic on #bloglikecrazy challenge*

November 30, 2019 1

#bloglikecrazy: Peep My Prayers #29

Prayer: “Bless ’em, Lord.”

Short and sweet, that’s exactly how the prayer sounds. Every time I pass by someone who is experiencing car trouble, I can’t help it. I’m an empath.

Now, I know everyone is not genuinely stranded and no, I do not stop to help. I do, however, make a non-emergency phone call when it appears only the driver is present so help can be on the way. I also pray whenever I see someone walking along the interstate emergency lanes. Why do I say a prayer every time? You can thank my mother for that.

I recall us being stranded on the interstate when I was a child. It was nighttime and a sweet family (who didn’t know us) stopped and took us to the nearest exit. I remember the couple had a little girl that was a bit younger than me and they moved her to the front so my mother and I could sit in the backseat. She and I kept looking at each other and I remember thinking how different our lives probably were. Without digressing too far, let’s just say I’m glad they helped us and who knows if the drivers before them said a prayer for us until they arrived.

God hears every prayer, even the short ones at 70 miles per hour when you see someone changing their flat tire. Try incorporating this habit into your commute as well. Think about the time you were inconvenienced with car trouble and have enough empathy to pray for others. Perhaps your prayer is just the jumpstart they need to receive a miracle.

Peace & Thanks for listening!

November 29, 2019 0

#bloglikecrazy: Peep My Prayers #28

Prayer: “Thank you so much for loving me back. I don’t know what I would do without You.”

Reciprocity of love is such a beautiful thing. I snuggle in it. When you extend yourself to someone and s/he does the same, it develops a level of unparalleled trust. That trust is then strengthened to a force that can never be broken.

That’s how I feel in my relationship with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. I believe in the Trinity and that each form envelops me in Love in different ways… and there’s nothing like it. I appreciate the fact that in my faith, God loves me back. I could never return the same Love, but the Love I have is welcomed and appreciated. There’s an exchange between the Creator and me and it has formed a bond of trust that I can not denounce. I smile and I feel Him smile back. I look at nature and see a nurturing mother providing for her children. I show Love to people to sow into the spiritual connectivity of mankind. It encircles us all if we let it.

I pray that you experience reciprocity of Love as well. You deserve it. Hugs, kisses, warmth, all of it. I truly never feel unloved and you are worthy of the same Truth.

Peace, LOVE, and Thanks for listening, Sweetheart!

November 28, 2019 0

#bloglikecrazy: Peep My Prayers #26

Prayer: “God, please. Please let my marriage work. I don’t want a divorce. Just tell me what I did wrong. What do I need to do? What am I supposed to learn from this? Am I missing something? Did I make a mistake? If I did, just tell me. I can handle it.”

Tears on my pillow were the only way I could encapsulate my unspoken pain during that season of my marriage. I was at a loss. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t experiencing the Christian matrimonial dream. After all, I followed the regimen. I adhered to the plan. You know… the “1, 2, 3, voilà!” plan. When you’re a young Christian girl, you’re told to keep your legs closed, stay involved in church activities, and follow God’s direction for your life, then bam — you get a husband and 2-3 kids. It’s an absurd equation, but I believed it. I thought if I did everything by the Book, I would receive a beautiful marriage as a reward. On numerous occasions, I told people that I was only marrying one time. No exceptions and no divorce for me. Ever. And I desperately prayed for that confession to be true, but unfortunately, that prayer did not materialize.

My late former husband was not the focus of my prayer and is not the focus of this post. My anguish, despair, and confusion… that’s what was folded within the words of that prayer. My mind was in a whirlwind because I couldn’t understand what went wrong in the equation. What didn’t I do correctly? Have you ever been there?

If those questions relate to marriage in your life, let me help you with something that unfolded in the answer to that prayer up there. God doesn’t reward “good” Christian men and women with marriage and punish His other sons and daughters with singlehood, widowhood, or divorce. That’s crazy. It would insinuate that your only purpose in life is to be married and there are Biblical examples that prove otherwise. Even now as I type, I shake my head at the ludicrosity. Marriage is not a prize. It is a calling… an assignment… that you are better together and that your purposes on this Earth are perpetually intertwined. My late former husband and best friend was an exceptional man and regardless of the outcome of our marriage, our purposes were definitely designed to cross.

Right now, wherever you are, pray that real prayer. Don’t be afraid of your vulnerable humanity. I am proof that He listens and He will heal. And it’s OK to say “I don’t know where this leads… but I trust you.”

Peace & Thanks for listening, Sweetheart.

November 26, 2019 3

Listening at the Speed of Life

– by C. J. Wade –

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#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #4

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #3

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #2

#bloglikecrazy: Open Letter #1

Wednesday Wind Down: Here We Go

#bloglikecrazy: Peep My Prayers #30

#bloglikecrazy: Peep My Prayers #29

#bloglikecrazy: Peep My Prayers #28

#bloglikecrazy: Peep My Prayers #26

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– by C. J. Wade –

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