Search

Listening at the Speed of Life

– by C. J. Wade –

Tag

thoughts

Resurrect Me – Part 1

Hi, Family!

How’s your April been so far? Mine has been eventful to say the least, but let’s narrow it down to one theme – resurrection.

I know Easter is over, but the impact of its presence is yet here. One of these experiences was volunteering with the exceptional Upon This Rock Productions (referenced as UTR) based in Indianapolis, IN. So many lessons floated to the surface of my spirit while I was there this month.


I won’t attempt to put every lesson into one post. This space is too small to attempt such a feat. Instead, I plan to share a few parts over the next few days. I hope it helps.

UTR Lesson #1 – Let God grow you.

The beauty of God’s creation is that it is designed to regenerate itself. To perpetuate the “Let there be…”

So, when I stood on stage during the final curtain call, I felt like a humbled witness — a butterfly on the wall of time. Music paused to give way to the silence of grateful souls basking in the moment. It was beautiful to marinate in the fruit of obedience. A written idea turned into a shared mission which turned into 40-year production with thousands of cast and crew. The yes opened the door to a thousand ships that carried others toward their purpose.

Spoken Word.

Musicianship.

Prop Construction.

Pyrotechnics.

Internships.

Marriages.

Births.

Costume Design.

Special Effects

Hair & Make-Up

Singing.

Songwriting.

Dancing.

Choreographing.

Stage Management.

Videography.

Sign Language.

Light and Sound Technology.

And more.

Purpose. Rich, bountiful purpose that flowed from a pen into the hearts of generations. I’m so blessed to be part of something so true and tangible. Something that would feed my spirit for the rest of my life. I know the road was filled with juniper and jagged edges, but the final curtain call was worth the wait – worth the investment of tears and treasure. So, when I saw these moments, I scrambled for my phone to capture a raindrop of the majesty I felt.


Who knows what amazing things await them on the other side of this final bow. What bond they will forge or what creation will bear their names one day. The whole weekend, all I saw were seeds. I felt like I was walking through a spiritual meadow of lush green grass and a kaleidoscope of flowers. My smile kept escaping from my heart and across my lips. My gaze filled with wonder. Occasionally, a “wow” would exhale into the air.

As the directors shared their thank you’s, I stood there in awe of the power of a seed. The power of one yes. The power God gave us to regenerate ourselves through His gifts, especially His gift of Love. When God said “Let there be…,” we were intentionally included. How amazing is that?

Everything around me was proof that life lives in every seed… and that one life has seeds that can usher generations.

It’s worth the yes. When we agree with God’s timing, we fall in tandem with the maturation of those seedlings. We become eternal partners with Him. 

I’m grateful for UTR and the yes that started it all. My feet stand on the proof that God keeps His promises and will walk with you on the journey to dreams beyond your imagination.

Consider purchasing a digital copy of the shows (each is dramatically different). UTR is good ground. This production just fulfilled its season, but there are more seeds coming.

Here’s to our dead places being renewed according to the Father’s timing.
Here’s to our dreams being resuscitated and our next steps flourishing.
Here’s to our hearts breathing in new possibilities of love and life.

May God water our yes so it may bloom forever.

I believe in us and the power of our seeds.

Thank you to my beautiful big sister Monéca S. Reid for connecting me to this tree so I can grow too.

Peace & Thanks for listening. I love y’all! See you tomorrow! 🙂

Wednesday Uptake: Poetry – THE LATTER

Hi, Family!

I decided to switch it up and pop in during the daytime. Don’t fret – Wednesday Wind Down will return. 🙂

In honor of National Poetry Month, I will share poem or spoken word piece each week. The piece below is hot off the press. I wrote it this morning as I steeped in jazz music. Thanks in advance for reading it!

THE LATTER

When I get old
I pray
That the waves of wisdom that crashed through my life
Will flow as mighty streams into the ones I love
Pour into cupped hands of expectation
That it will save them from their contemplated sins
That my mistakes will be their textbooks
To review and expend

I pray
When I get old
That my words will find homes in the future
Serve as nightlights for those lost in the night
Reside in the hearts of passersby
Cling to the souls of forever learners
Grow in the soil of tomorrow’s harvest

History of joy and tears will be punctuated by crow’s feet
Proof of humanity
Resilience
The fragility of my fingers
The winding roads of wrinkles atop my hands
Will be a testament of loving
Living
Praying
Touching all this journey had to teach me
I trace them end to end
Every curve
Every bend
I embrace them.

I pray
When I get old
I won’t be thrown away
Wisdom withering among white walls
Visiting the distant lands of my memories
Recalling history broken and rebuilt
Again and again
Just like me
Sipping on feelings felt within the softness of my chest like a cup of hot tea
Breasts, once the flagship of my womanhood, returning to where they began
Heart beating in reverent rhythm
Feet wiggling to a song in my head

When I get old
I pray
I bathe in the cleanliness of a child’s laughter
The beauty of a sunset
Kissing Water’s edge
Reminding me of my lover’s lips
I smile, and touch my own
Savoring sweetness of moments untold
I pray I lace my sneakers and walk on the devil’s head at dawn
Fervently placing my feet as a reckoning of faith
I pray I see the wonder of Earth’s bounty
Lush and green
Excitingly enticing me to commune and frolic
To soak in freely in her majesty.

And as my eyes illuminate at heaven’s beck and call
I’ll look back at it all
All I saw
All I felt
All I poured
All I accepted
All the branches that grew within me
All the leaves around my feet
I’ll breathe in
Smile again
And I will exhale out of this life
Into the next chapter of my spirit…
When I get old,
I pray… when I get old.

Inspired by sounds from jazz genius Abdullah Ibrahim

For more information about NPM, click their logo below.

So, how do you feel about aging? Is it something you fear or look forward to experiencing? What does “old” mean to you? Let me know in the comments. I’m looking forward to reading what you think.

Peace & Thanks for listening! I love y’all!

Wednesday Wind Down: Post-Op

Hi, Family!

I hope you had an enriching day. If not, I hope these words give you some solace.

Let me start by saying that today was a hard one. As I claw my way out of depressive waters (thank you Jesus and Therapy) and realign my life, there are days like today that make me wander down a rabbit hole of “why’s” and “what if’s.” I know what you may be thinking… “Why would you wander down a road of why’s? What good does it do?” It’s not a place I wanted to be, but somehow I ended up there today and whew… talk about a headspin. Next thing I know, I was sitting in my car with a pen in my hand trying to write my way out of a dark hole of loneliness. While that’s not the cool thing to say in Christianity, we keep it real around here.

So, what happened next was a beautiful reminder in the form of a whisper. Pen still in hand with about a half-page of spillage, I heard “You’re in post-op.”

It made perfect sense… instantly. In 2019, I told a friend that I felt like I was in spiritual surgery – like God wanted to rearrange some things in my life and all He wanted was my yes. I remember saying “OK, let’s go. Whatever You want to do, I’m in.” I had just transitioned into full-time entrepreneurship and felt like I was already skywalking on faith anyway. So in 2020, when depressive waves crashed into my soul, I remember saying “OK, so isn’t it over? Is the surgery incomplete? Am I still going through it? This is rough.”

*insert radio silence here*

Me and my frustration cried and yelled feeling like a used discarded sweater. Meanwhile, my body felt limp and expended. What in the world was happening? Was this the second phase or something? Whatever it was, I wasn’t a fan and it was lasting too long.

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on Pexels.com

*insert timelapse here to present day*

I sat in my car, lamenting on paper, then I heard that whisper and I saw it clearly. Me + hospital gown + hospital bed + tubes + monitors + four sterile walls. I knew the scenary all too well. There I was, lying there, eyes closed. I took a deep breath and realized what the Holy Spirit was telling me.

Occasionally in the vision, a nurse came in to check on me. A doctor had already spoken to my family. Limited visitors, one or two persons. I slept mostly. Limited words left my lips because my throat was still sore from anesthesia and/or the surgery itself.

After surgery, I think I should be up and running like a car after a tune-up. I always think that even though I know better. Once a procedure is completed, there’s a place called post-op and there are post-op instructions. Even same-day surgery has a post-op period. Nevertheless, what do I do? A slight tip over too much. *SMH* Why? Because I think it’s over. It’s done. It’s time to move on.

Well, Family, that’s how depression hit me like a freight train last year. I had a series of “it’s time to move on” lies in my head that lasted over a decade. Each compounded over the other. I still had joy. I still had divine anointing over my life. I still used my gifts in church, and yes, I still inspired others. And I did it well. And I meant it. But when I gave God permission to rearrange and extract as needed, I tried to apply the same lie – “OK. It’s over. It’s done. It’s time to move on.” Meanwhile, in the batcaves of reality and against my desire, I’m in post-operation recovery. Some friends have been removed. Some boundaries have been implanted. Some desires were shifted underneath others. Some thought patterns have been rewired. Stitching of redefined faith is in place and my insides are learning to work with them. I don’t feel like talking much because it hurts as it heals. I’m relearning my voice and its abilities. I’m raw, fragile, and strong at the same time.

I’m healing.

I’m healing.

I am healing.

And I can’t rush the post-op. “Change my heart, God!” “I want to be like You!” “Make me over!” Sounds great, doesn’t it? Well, if you want it, this transition can not be skipped. There are instructions that must be followed so the healing can continue past the operating room.

Photo by Nguyu1ec5n Thanh Ngu1ecdc on Pexels.com

Tonight, I want to share some grace with you in the form of this reminder – make peace with the post-op period. It’s uncomfortable, I know because you want to jump into the swing of normal, but truthfully, your normal is different after you ask God to change it. After you want to level up inside. After you say yes. When I said “OK, let’s go,” that meant that some people, things, thoughts, and habits could not go with me… and I didn’t get to decipher which ones stayed. I won’t lie to you, Family. It’s been the rawest experience of my life to date but the best decision I’ve ever made. If you’ve been here for a while, you know attention is not my cozy place, but with this experience, I’ve had to speak up more and share my heart past the uncomfortable part of me. Every time I do, someone says “Me too.”

Hence the entire reason for this blog. I don’t want anyone to be afraid of the process of Jesus’ Love. I don’t anyone to be ashamed to say “I need a therapist.” I don’t want anyone to feel alone in their walk of faith. If no one has told you lately, you are not alone. You have value and you have purpose on this Earth. You also have a right to be the best version of yourself… the version God had in mind when He fashioned you with His hands.

My prayer is that you embrace the discomfort of recuperation knowing that healing is a process and wholeness is on the other side of it.

I love you. Peace & Thanks for listening. Stay well out there and reach out if you need to.

#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.

Photo by Ololade Masud on Pexels.com

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

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

Hebrew Word Lessons

Understanding the Hebrew Bible one Word at a time.

The Struggle

YouTube Channel

hannah brencher.

honest essays about growing up, faith + loving others well.

Croissants & Conjugations

the life & times of a curious american in france

Sarah's Grace

Chasing the New Normal

The Literacy Council of Central Alabama

Serving Blount, Jefferson, St. Clair, Shelby & Walker Counties

Chic in Academia

science | lifestyle | travel

The Birmingham Buff

For Those Who Love History and Birmingham

See Jane Write

a website & community for women who write & blog