I feel alone.  Isolated.  I know I am not but when I wake up in the morning that's how I feel.

And the cloud continues to drift over me...no matter how hard I try to shake it....

And depression is now turning into anger....and it's hard to look myself in the mirror.

God I feel so alone.  Please help me.  Please.  Please. Please.

Please.

Jesus.

Some moments I feel like giving up before I even begin.

Some moments I feel stupid for choosing this path that I'm on.

Some moments I feel so small and so useless....like so worthless.

I feel...I feel...I feel.

My life now is quiet.  So am I.  I've never been loud or lived loudly.  I've always felt insignificant. Unimportant.  Like I've had nothing to contribute to this world.

Some moments...that is how i feel that way.  It's a constant battle...pushing that feeling back like a heavy lump in my throat that's always trying to rise up.

I'm reading.  I'm praying.  But I guess I don't believe enough...

Because some moments, that's how I feel.

So I just joined this group called TNDistrict, an online interface run by Travel Noire, a platform for black folks who want to travel around the world and support each other doing it.

The interface allows you to, among other things, connect with other travelers and access glitch fare deals (i.e. $300 round trip fares to Abu Dhabi...because I'm about that liiiiiife!).  Not sure how much i can take advantage of it within the next year but at least I'll have access to the platform and maybe me and Ron can catch something quick.

Yesterday, I asked God to allow us to travel the world and to send us some traveling companions.  We shall see.  It's a desire of my heart to travel and enjoy different cultures and different people.  I found myself lately getting jealous that my single or newly married friends (no babies) had the freedom to do such things.  No bueno.  So I just prayed about it and gave that to God.  All things in due time.

Counting my blessings.
One by one.

That's alot of counting.

A little while back, my Bishop asked me how I was doing.  I shared with him my concerns about being a new mother, leaving my career behind, starting a business, and my hesitance about what God was doing in my life.

He said to me:

"Daughter.  Enjoy your life.  God is making your life beautiful right now.  Just enjoy this time."

So that is what I shall do.  That is what I am doing.

Goodnight.

What if, just what if I allowed Jesus to REALLY be the center of it all?

My life.
My heart.
My mind.
My relationships.
My wifehood.
My motherhood.
My servanthood.
My business decisions.
My everything.

And not in some crazy uber religious churchy way with random rules and regulations.  No. Not the traditional way everyone thinks of when they think of someone sold out to Jesus.  I'm talking about what if I allowed Jesus Christ to be at the center of it ALL IN MY LIFE?

"What would I look like, sound like, act like, if you  stopped being the center of my own world?"

Oooops.  Because as I keep waking up in the weeeee morning hours and asking God, "What do you see when you see me?  What did you create me for?  You know...because I think in ready for the answer."  THAT WAS THE QUESTION and the reality He confronted me with.

Talk about shifty side eye.

"Yes you Yvonne.  You're at the center of your world and as much as you try to 'find and maintain balance', 'do what makes you happy' blah blah blah...whatever trendy catch phrase you've read about lately that makes you feel good, if I'm not at the center it's in vain AND you know it is."

Tell me why my own strength fails
To provide you with a grace that will prevail
You Holy One are my strength today
And Lord you will have it no other way

Le sigh.

And I look at my life now.  Closely examine it.  And He's right.  I'd say 85% of the decisions I'm making currently have been made with the initial thought of "how will this affect me?"  And that has given me sometimes temporary but limited peace and joy.  Even when the by product helps someone else (husband, child, church, etc.), I am always thinking about me.

Whoa.
Whoa.

So I sing "Let Us See Jesus" and "Jesus Be The Center of it All" but He has had to check me.  How can I really see Jesus with all of ME in the way?

Pause.  Reflect.  Selah alladat.  Not to condemn me or have me hide my head under a pillow or go on some sinning spree because there's no hope for a wretch like me.  I know to much about Him at this point in my walk to know He's not like that and He'a not after that response.  I wanted Him to be real with me and He gave me that because He knew I was mature enough to handle it.

Repent.  Die to myself.  Be conformed to His image and likeness.  Stop trying to work this thing out. It's making me tired.

Yea....God be talking to meeeeeeee.....

I began by faith and the only way to successfully continue is by faith. 

For most of my adult life when I've been in academic or professional settings, I've felt invisible.  Well...at least invisible to white people....invisible to people with privilege.  I've felt so much so that it often took me aback when I was acknowledged in an unassuming or friendly manner by one.  I was so used to being and feeling ignored that I did not know how to interact with them.

Was part of this real and part of this assumed?  Perhaps?  Maybe then those perceptions turned into reality.  Or did reality create an exaggerated perception?  Chicken or the egg?  Which came first?  Who knows?  Not I?  All I know is that I feel that way again sitting in this videography workshop.  A room full of white men who all have a level or privilege because they are videographers.  They are used to the equipment, the technicalities, the terminology, etc.  In fact, they're all in here yawning because this is far from a master class...more like a comprehensive class.  It's good for me because I'm coming from a limited background in this stuff.  And that's ok.  They huddle in corners and talk technical stuff.  I'd rather not be weird like "hey guys....how's the weather?"  I suppose I knew this would happen.  Lol.  I'm not stranger to being a stranger.  I'm no stranger to being abnormal.  I'm no stranger to being different and being alienated because of it.

Last night I had a dream. I'd landed a commercial cal ideography gig for a Jewish owned grocery store in Far Northeast.  The store was poorly stocked...probably on the outs and in a decline.  After I set up and as I began to shoot, an old white man walked into the store.  He approached me as I attempted to shoot the poorly stocked and sad attempt of an ethnic hair care section.  He was angry: I could see it in his face. He approached me and physically was trying to restrain me.  The thing is, I didn't have the energy or the strength to stop him from stopping me.  He was so frail too...think old creepy guy from Family Guy.  Literally that frail in stature and strength and I could not get him off me.

Weird.  Odd.  Perhaps not all that odd.  Perhaps just a manifestation of my fear of white male privilege.  It's nothing I can't conquer and I know it...I'm just not acting on it.

Anyway,  the class is interesting.  I can definitely take some nuggets.  Def not flying a drone tomorrow lol, but I think I might be ready to shoot and edit my girls video complete with an interview and some accompanying b-roll.

Baby steps.  They're good for someone who likes to take giant leaps. Lol.  Baby steps.

Boom.

This from Proverbs 31 ministries.  Today, more than ever, I needed a reminder that His grace is sufficient.  Gracie bet'not be chewing no holes through my cheek...but sometimes, I do want to yell.  In fact, sometimes I do lol.  This motherhood thing isn't more than I can handle.  (I'll have to come back and check this blog a year from now when I'll have a 2 year old and a 6 month old on my hands lol).  Le sigh.  Deep breath in and blow one out.  One.day.at.a.time.

"To all my young mama friends,
I struggled so much when my kids were little.

 

People would tell me to appreciate these little years for they pass by in a blink. I’d go home blinking my little eyeballs to death wishing they would pass a little quicker.

But I must say, God used those years to grow me and stretch me more spiritually than anything else I’ve ever been through. Even when you only get little snippets of time with God, His lessons are there moment by moment.

Just the fact that I survived my first daughter is evidence of God’s amazing grace working in my life. She once bit my face leaving me with a hole - A HOLE! - in the side of my cheek. With everything in me, I wanted to march her back to that hospital that aided me in birthing her and demand some DNA testing. I was certain I’d brought home the wrong child.

That is until my mama told me she’d been praying for years for me to birth someone just like me. Ahem. Payback for her was pure bliss.

Anyhow, moment by moment I survived. Life did not pass me by. Opportunity did not pass me by. And my ministry was right there waiting for me when I changed that last diaper.

Those years where I only did little people ministry within my home worked out some kinks between me and Lord and perfectly prepared my heart to be so much more real and authentic when I stepped back on the speaking stage. I came to realize my desperate need for God like never before.

I came to realize my desperate need for grace like never before. I came to realize that even a rule-following girl like me can be pushed to cuss. And then I realized even more grace than before.

Hold on sweet sister. There is nothing wrong with you when you feel like you love those little people but some days you don’t like them very much. It’s okay. We’ve all been there. This too shall pass. And when it does you’ll actually miss parts of it. And you’ll actually not miss some parts of it too!"
- Lysa TerKeurst

i don't really have much to say these days.

Grace.
Much grace.

I don't know where this fear came from.  Well I know where fear comes from of course but not sure why so much anxiety right now.

In 4 hours I'm turning over the keys to the first home we purchased as a married couple.  This was our first big leap of faith.

Today marks a day of great transition.  I'm moving out of the city I've called home for the past seven years...a city I have grown to love and hate.  Does that even out to just like? Lol.

Bishop recently looked at me and said, "Daughter, you handle transition well.  That's just what you do."  I chalked it up to one of those, "speaks those thing a that aren't as if they were" moments and kept it moving.

My husband keeps telling me, "Don't get scared now."  I'm not scared.  Just learning how to embrace all that's new without holding on to the past.

Let's go!

Paths.

Psalms 23 & 25.

God change my mind about everything.

My value and who I am.

My marriage.

My motherhood and parenting.

My relationship with you.

I need a perspective shift.

My mind has been a hot mess as of late.

Help my mind God.

When water gives you heartburnnnnnn lol.  Lawd.

this post was going to be mopey and negative.  And then I erased it.  Ain't nobody got time for that.  Keep it moving.

Boom. 

Cynthia said, "stop looking for angst."

This is why she's my friend.

Ok.  Good night.

it's 9:41 p.m. on the even of my 28th birthday.

i don't feel celebratory.  no cake.  no balloons.  no cards.  no fancy dinner.  no friends.  no get together.

i kinda just feel...bleh.

27 was an eventful year.  i had a child.  i left my job.  i launched a business.  i got pregnant with my second child.

i have never felt so undone...so tired...so bleh....in my life.

i'm not mad.  i'm not sad.  i'm not angry.  i'm not depressed.  i'm not really joyous either, which i suppose isn't a good thing.

i just feel...ummm...bleh.

my life is good.  i have a loving husband.  i have a growing family and beautiful daughter.  i have a stronger relationship with my mother.  i have a supportive church family.

this morning, i sat on the edge of the bed and looked back over the last decade.  10 years ago i was in college.  i was starting my sophomore year i believe.  5 years ago i was starting at Mastery full time.  i can't recall what i did on those birthdays.  actually, 10 years ago,  i was turning 18 and cynthia, dana, shari, and e'lon got me a strawberry cake and we went to see jill scott and erykah badu at merriweather post pavillion.

i wanted to think about 10 years from now.  but i wouldn't allow myself to think about 10 years from now...for the possibility that 10 years from now i'd be sitting on the edge of the bed still feeling bleh.

tomorrow, i will get up.  i will feed my daughter. i will play with her for a little bit.  i will lay her down for her morning nap.  i will pray.  i will shower.  i will take my daughter to her 9 month doctor's appointment.  the doctor will throw shade and imply that i am a bad mother because my child is underweight, albeit developmentally thriving.  i will do my best to deflect their advice and the way they're trying to make me feel about my first-time parenting skills.  then, i will come home and prepare to lead praise and worship during Bible Study.  i will come home.  i will be tired...maybe hungry...maybe nauseated...maybe both.  i will feel bad because my husband wants to have sex with me but i physically don't feel up to it.  so i go to sleep and hope the next day i feel better.

this is my life now.  and i won't complain because it's not bad.  it's not bad at all.  it's good.  my life is good.

so goodbye 27.  hello 28.

*unenthusiastic flicka da wrist*

ayeeeee.

Writing this from bed...forgive me as I collect my thoughts...this is a rambling...

There is so much foolishness...madness in this world.  The advent and mass accessibility of social media seems like a double-edged sword.  On one hand, the issues and occurrences that historically have been glazed over and ignored by the masses are now being brought to the forefront of everyone's attention.  Most recently, Sandra Bland's tribe banded together and refused to believe allegations that she committed suicide in aTexas jail cell after being arrested during a routine traffic stop.  In less than 2 weeks, they have garnered nearly 100,000 signatures petitioning the U.S. attorney General to get involved in the investigation for Bland's death.  Cases like Bland's have been all too common in our communities, especially in the south and disenfranchised neighborhoods in the North.  Police brutality, stop-and-frisk, the school to prison pipeline...we know what it is.  For many African Americans, it's a lived reality of a constant state of belligerence, fear, and helplessness as enemies of the state simply because of the color of our skin.

On the other hand, social media bombards us with realities that are painful to discuss as we have become so numb to them for so long.  We've gone from, "That's just the way it is" to "Why the hell is it this way and what can I do about it?"  Posts, pictures, theories, blogs, videos, clips etc. awaken the "Black rage" James Baldwin so eloquently describes.  This rage gets played out at the reading of every blog...at the scrolling past of every picture...at the replay of every incendiary police body camera video....what in the world?  This ish is traumatic to say the least.  I leave my timeline exhausted from being so angry.  Part of me knows that this righteous indignation re-awakened is the impetus to a greater movement to bring about justice, even if at the moment, it's justice for one black woman or man who has succumbed the violence posed to black bodies constantly.

I guess my question is...what will it really take for black people to be healed?  What does that really look like for our communities?  Does it mean access to "quality" education (meaning comparable to what the rich white kids get in the suburbs)?  Does it mean access to better housing opportunities? Once we leave the physical ghetto, can we leave the ghetto mentality behind?  No, sir, you can't sit on my car or my steps. No, you can't plug your phone in my outdoor charger.  No, sir, you can't smoke weed on the corner at 2 in the morning on a Tuesday and be loud cuz...well...we folks around here have jobs and we get up early so we'd freaking like to sleep.  Take Pookie an'nem out of North Philly and transplant them in Middletown.  Hell to the no.  I left North Philly to get away from them because they have already succumbed to the poverty mentality and well...ain't nobody got time to be reprogramming no adults.  So do we believe the children are our future?  How does we as a society, en masse, break the cycle of poverty and end the culture of poverty.  And yes, I know critics would shame me for asserting the bourgeoisie, pompous and classist opinion that the culture of poverty is inferior but who do you know actually WANTS to live piled on top of one another in a small space struggling because of lack of resources with little prospect of getting out? No really?  I'll wait.  Being poor is not fun.  It's not glamorous.  That ish is hard.  It's only because of the resilience and brilliance of black people that we can look at our struggles and laugh at our pain.  The struggle simply became resourcefulness.  Resourcefulness became reality and somewhere along the line, some of us forgot that it wasn't ok to be on the bottom.  Trust...if black people were complacent with being poor, there would be no hip hop culture which glorifies glitz, glam, and the perceived "finer things in life".

I could go on and on...just like everyone else is going on and on...

Self care...

What is that?

I am exhausted.