The Making of a Family...

As we enter the holiday season, I find it apropos that the first celebration marking its entrance is Thanksgiving. There are so many blessings in my life that for which I am grateful, but the most notable of these is family.

Reflecting over the past three years of my life, I can attest to the spontaneity and creativity of God. This time in 2013, there was Kennedy, my then 8 year old daughter, me and Carter, our dog living our simply complex little life. I was a single mother, Kennedy an only child. And while it was lonely at times, we were happy and content, just us three.

Fast forward three year: 36 months, 156 weeks, 1,092 days...

I am married to the man of my prayers. Dreams reside in the subconsciousness of our minds; my husband is the answer to the longing of my soul. There were deep things that only God knew that I wanted and needed in a mate, and he put them all in Charles. He is my grace gift from the Lord; I don't deserve it and I could never earn the kind of love God has shown towards me through my husband, and for him, I am eternally grateful.

I watch in awe as my only biological daughter has matured into a beautiful young lady, balanced and poised with a sense of self and confidence that only comes from a strong family. I now have a second daughter, Sharayon, who is my daily dose of myself as a teenager. Together, she and Kennedy have become the yin and yang of sisterhood. I have a son who I could swear has my DNA coursing in his veins. Christopher gives me hope in the men of the next generation as he is a reflection of God's glory here on earth--a combination of looks, personality and brains--like I said, he must have my DNA in there somewhere!!

I even have three amazing young women whom I have the privilege of calling step-daughters--Jessica, Meagan and Chelsea. Strong, smart and pretty. To top it all off, they are the best shopping buddies, EVER!!

Then there's the second four-legged family member we rescued, Lady. My "thug" dog, she is the sweetest and most loving pure bred mutt there is.

The ten of us have bonded in a way that only God can orchestrate. And as I look at our family pictures from earlier this month, I am in complete and utter awe at God and His love for me. He put this big beautiful family for Kennedy and me. I look at how He knew what Personalities to bring to the table to make this family work, and I think of how He orchestrated every aspect of it. He did all of this for me without my help (or foreknowledge). God and God alone could what has been done in my life.

As I meditated on my family, God showed me that my family is a reflection of His family...mixed backgrounds, experiences and DNA. The thing that binds us all together in the family of God is the shed blood of Jesus Christ. 

The City of Grace Mobile is also a reflection of God's family. We open our arms each Sunday to people who come looking for a place to bring the broken pieces of their lives in hopes that someone will put them back together again. Be it family, careers, finances or other issues of faith, we bring a mixed bag with us each week. God takes all of our differences and puts them together in His family. 

If you ever wonder, "Where is God in the midst of my mess?", trust me, He is there in the thick of it all. God will take you from the bottom of the barrel and place you on top of the world. I sit and look at these pictures and I am simply amazed that this is MY family--MY children--My husband.

God can and will do exceedingly abundantly above all you can ask or think according to the power that works in us.

Absolutely nothing is too hard for God.

Wishing you a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday filled with love, family and fabulous black Friday sales.

The Divine Diva

Midwifing a Miracle

"Push!" she exclaimed as she sat looking at the crown of the babies head. Cries of agony and groans responded as the woman summoned all of her strength to follow the command of the midwife that crouched between her legs. Sweat poured from her brow and wails exploded as the pain of labor overcame her.

With one final breath, the Hebrew woman released the travail that only comes from birthing something as miraculous and wonderful as a baby. But this was not just any baby.

This was a male child.

Shuphuah held her breath as she pulled the baby from his mother's womb to examine its genitals. She hoped against hope that this was not a boy.

She groaned a groan that could only come from one under the oppression of a murderer. She looked down as the baby took its first and supposedly final breath. She prepared to do the unthinkable when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

It was Puah looking down on the beautiful male-child that was to be murdered. "Sherphuah, don't," Puah said. "Letting this child live will place us under the judgment of Pharoah. Killing him will place us under the judgment of the Lord God of Heaven and Earth. It's not worth it."

Puah slowly released the grip she held on the umbilical cord allowing air to continue to flow to the baby until cut. She cleaned out his mouth, opened up his airway and laughed with joy as he let out his first cry. Tears in her eyes, she handed him to his mother to allow him to nurse at her breast for the first time.

She had midwifed a miracle--and then almost killed it.

So many times, God has called us not just to birth things in ourselves, but to help others to birth the things He has deposited into them. We are the midwives of God's miracles.

We have the power to help usher in the power of the Holy Spirit. To help bring forth businesses and ministries, to call forth healing and deliverance, to bind up the broken and help them to find God's purpose for their life. These are all miracles--those divine interventions that disrupt the normal order of things.

Do we seek the opportunity to help others? Do we help other women to "birth" whatever God has impregnated them with--whatever dream, goal or vision God has given them for their lives?

Or do we kill the miracle that God is trying to bring into the world?

Look around you today. Where does God need a midwife?

Is it in your home helping your spouse or your children to be all that God has created and called them to be? Is it on your job lending a word of encouragement or support to a fellow co-worker? Perhaps it is in your church, helping to carry out the vision and mission that God has given the Under-Shepherd of His church.

Wherever there is hurting, wherever there is travail and pain, there is an opportunity to help bring forth a miracle. New life can only come from the agony of the birthing process.

I challenge you today to be the midwives to the miracles that God is trying to usher into the earth. Let us encourage one another to push, even when it hurts. And when the baby is brought forth, let us not kill it with our words or actions, but just as the midwives of Exodus, let us nurture it and help it to grow, despite what the world may think of us..

Until next time, may you see the miracle of every moment.

Be blessed!

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

The Elephant in the Room

Warning:
This post may offend you.

If it does, please stop and pray.

Take a long hard look in the mirror of your soul, and if my words don't apply to you, keep it moving. If they do, still keep it moving--to the nearest fitness center.

There are 33 Oreos in a family pack--34 if you're lucky. A pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream has exactly 5 ice cream scoops in a container.

How do I know this?

I'm a fat girl.

I've been a fat girl my entire life. At least, that is what I've heard just about every doctor tell me in one way or another since the age of 9.

Now, before you go and try to assuage my ego or mount up an opposition to all the size negative 3 women who parade the runways or magazine covers, let me be the first to tell you that I don't suffer in the self-esteem department. I have a Father in heaven who declares that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. And I have a gorgeous husband who confirms God's truth about me each and every day. That said, I have to face reality, and so do my fat sisters out there reading this post.

As a society, we are so ready to affirm everything and everyone that we affirm anything and anyone--even if that thing is killing us.

Despite what Torrid (LOVE THEM), Ashley Stewart (LOVE THEM MORE) or Lane Bryant (LOVE THEM MOST OF ALL) promote in their well placed ads and self-love campaigns, what we are carrying around with us are NOT just curves.

They are fat rolls.

And with them come diabetes. And high cholesterol. And aching knees and joints. And a litany of other lifestyle related health issues associated with obesity.

There it is--I said it. The dreaded "O" word.

Obesity is a growing epidemic in our country and costs us more than $300 billion dollars each year in healthcare treating problems that could be cured if we made the decision to stop euthanizing ourselves with food.

What if we made the simple decision each day to pack a salad instead of stopping thru the drive thru at the nearest fast food restaurant. What if we went ahead and took that parking spot further away from the store entrance and walked instead of spending 15 minutes driving around that same parking lot waiting for someone with a "good spot" to come out and move? What if we swapped that soda for some water? What if?

I have watched just about every woman in my family struggle with obesity. I have struggled with it my entire life. At my heaviest I weighed 282 lbs and was a size 22/24. I'm now down 70 lbs and in a 14/16, but the truth is, I still have a ways to go. But there is a difference in struggling with an issue and allowing that issue to define and rule your life.

Our bodies are temples of God. This is the only earthly tabernacle for the Holy Spirit--God Himself--to dwell. How we treat it matters. It matters to God, and it should matter to us.

It's time for us to stop making excuses for our poor food and exercise choices. We must hold one another accountable rather than affirming and enabling bad habits.

Yes, I understand that there are unhealthy "skinny" people in the world and that genetics play a huge role in our BMI and body types, etc. I also know that while a skinny person's poor eating and exercise habits may be hidden, a fat person's is observable to the naked eye. Does it make it worse? Absolutely not, but it is a visible sign that we need to do something to take charge of our health.

What's my point in this diatribe? If you are a healthy size 18 who can take a flight of steps without growing winded or can hang in a spin or aerobics class without your heart trying to leap out of your chest--more power to you! Ignore this post and keep on doing what you're doing.

If, however, you are like me at a size 14/16--struggling thru my 45 minute spin classes and barely able to do a downward dog in yoga, let's up our water intake, pass on the processed foods, leave the carbs alone and eat clean. Oh! And don't give up on that downward facing dog. It does wonders for the shoulders and the core.

Until next time, may you water bottle always be full, your sneakers handy and a stairwell nearby.

Sincerely,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

Bathsheba: Innocence Lost

I wanted to use Bathsheba to highlight the plight of "the other woman", but that was not who she was in Scripture. In fact, Bathsheba has probably been assigned one of the most erroneously bad raps in the Bible.

Growing up, I often heard Bathsheba's reputation and character maligned over the sacred desk of the pulpit. She was portrayed as a seductive woman who strategically placed herself in position to woo the King and take the throne as Queen.

However, upon reading Bathsheba's story in 2 Samuel chapter 11 thru the lens of an adult woman and more importantly, an exegetical teacher, that portrayal just doesn't align with the historical and contextual rendering of the Biblical text.

Or, in Diva speak, that ain't how it all went down!

Despite what we may have been taught in church, Bathsheba did not seduce King David. She was not tauntingly bathing so that he could lustfully gaze upon her body; rather, she was cleansing herself ritualistically in the privacy of her courtyard well. (Indoor plumbing and baths were not a part of the culture then.) We don't even know that she was naked as in many Eastern cultures, women remain at least partially clothed during bathing. We know that she was where she was supposed to be.

It was King David who was out of place.

The Bible tells us that it was in the spring when the armies typically went out to battle. As the King and Warrior Chief of Israel, David should have been with his men. When he should have been out with Joab, his Army Commander, strategically planning enemy attacks for Israel, he chose to send them off to war and stay behind to strategically plan on how to get Bathsheba in his bed.

No doubt that King David was in the habit of watching Bathsheba bath. He probably often arose from his afternoon nap and went to his rooftop to gaze upon her and had made a habit of watching her. His habits began to affect his character, and after a period of time, he decided to make his fantasies about her a reality.

It was not seduction on the part of Bathsheba that caused the King's moral downfall, but rather a malfunction in David's own character that led to his sin. He did not guard his eyes, and the more he looked, the more he wanted what he saw. So it is with us. That is why Jesus warns us in Matthew 6:22 about our eyes being the lamp to the whole body. We must guard what we allow into the eye-gate of our souls.

To David, Bathsheba was just another possession to be acquired-she was beautiful, and after watching her bath from atop his palace rooftop, he so desired her, he went to great lengths to get her. He even had her husband, Uriah, murdered for her.

Bathsheba had little control of her situation. Who tells a King, "No" when he has summoned you to his bed? Bathsheba's innocence and her virtue were taken from her.

We never hear her side of the story.

As a woman and a mother, I can relate to the violation she must have felt being forced to lay with a man whom she knew nothing about other than his role as King. I can relate to the pain she must have felt when she got news that her husband had been killed, and I grieve with her over the death of her firstborn son which was conceived in the sin of rape.

But even in her loss of innocence, God had a plan and purpose for her. For thru her came the wisest King who ever lived--King Solomon.  And King Solomon honored her. In 1 Kings 2:19, it says that when she went in to talk with him about his brother, Adonijah, the king stood up and bowed down to her. He even had a throne brought in for her. No other woman is shown such great honor in Scripture. God restored her honor through her son!

She is a matriarch in the line of Christ having birthed two sons linked to the lineage of the Messiah--King Solomon thru whom the Savior would come and Nathan who Luke records in the lineage of Jesus's earthly father, Joseph.

For all my Divas who have lost their innocence to men who did not care how their actions impacted us, know that God cares. Know that he cares about the physical, emotional and mental scars that have been seared into our souls. He cares about walls we have built to avoid intimacy.

He sees and He cares.

And He has a plan and a purpose for our pain. Just as Bathsheba's loss was recouped through her legacy, so will your loss be overshadowed by the anointing God will pour out on your life. He will send people around you to help tear down walls and love you through your pain--if you allow Him to. He will love you as only He can, and in the process of loving you, you will learn to love again, too.

So until next time, I pray that your heart will heal from the pain of your past, that you will regain your sense of purpose, and that you will receive the grace that God has for your life.

In and for His service,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

This Elephant's Journey

"We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but we rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty." Maya Angelou

"Favor is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised." Proverbs 31:30

Most people who've met me would declare that I am a bold, self-confident, Diva-like woman with a personality larger than life. I tend to command a room and can secure the attention and respect of people at all levels and from all backgrounds. I have my father's passion, charisma and ability to instantly connect with people and my mother's open heart and comedic knack. I am a story-teller, and I have a pretty good track record of getting my way in most arenas.

That I am pretty, I have always been sure. My father told me every day as a little girl that I was his "pretty girl", and everyone commented on my "good hair" and pretty skin. But beautiful--that descriptor always eluded me, because in order to be beautiful, you had to have the complete package--the body, the looks and the style.

I had two out of three.

My closet was and is stuffed beyond capacity with the latest styles and trends. From the little black dress to the now trending colored jeggings. I have every "seasonal palette" that has come thru Fashion Week since 2000. Despite the constant cries of my knees, I refuse to let go of my stilettos because they place me right above the invisible line dividing me from the masses of short fat girls. I have so many accessories that my friends by-pass the mall and call me when they need the perfect earrings/necklace for the balls or when they need a style makeover. I'm good at reinventing my look. I'm even better at hiding beyond the facade of it.

A self-proclaimed "fat girl in remission", I have struggled with food addiction, self-esteem and body image issues for as long as I can remember. As a little girl, I watched with a sense of desperation and despair as the Miss USA contestants--all 5'9" or taller with gazelle-like legs and seemingly flawless skin glided with ease across stages and down runways while I clumsily ambled from place to place feeling trapped in my 5'3" plus-sized frame, just trying to not to start a forest fire with my thighs that made their own flint  strike every time they rubbed back and forth against one another, all while praying that that I didn't fall over my own two pigeon-toed feet that jutted awkwardly down from my ever-knocking knees.

Then there was food...

My love affair with food dates back to my earliest recollection--it was a secret
love affair that took place after everyone had gone to bed and I could be alone with no one to remind me of how I didn't need to eat this or how I should limit that. Blue Bell and Oreos topped my list of lovers, and they beckoned me throughout the day as I opened the refrigerator to retrieve a Lean Cuisine or Weight Watchers meal for everyone to see me eat.  As we exchanged longing glances, I secretly whispered a promise of a later rendezvous and began counting the hours until we could be alone together.

Finally the house fell silent and the darkness shrouded me in safety as I eased into the kitchen to devour my lovers, each bite a little bit of heaven that would quickly spiral into a world of hell.

As soon as we'd finished, a wave of guilt, shame and nausea would overtake me and I'd find myself at the foot of yet another secret lover--the toilet. At the altar of what I now understand to be bulemia, I would purge my sin and watch it being washed away, and after making my penitent puke of remembrances, the cycle began again. This continued well into college.

Even after having the opportunity to model in high school and college, I never felt secure in my own skin. I knew that something needed to change, but I didn't know how to go about doing it. My life became an endless cycle of fad diets, sporadic Spartan-like exercise regimens and bouts of bulimia. By young adulthood, I'd resigned myself to my fate of fatness, blaming my progenitors for my BMI that placed me in the rejected realm of obesity. My lack of inner self confidence and sense of self-worth led me to marry a man who loved me dearly as his best friend, but who was not romantically attracted to me, nor I to him, thus making for a very long and difficult eight year marriage riddled with issues and addiction, mine being anything with a caloric count associated with it.

After answering my call to the preaching ministry, my weight became an asset as women preachers are oftimes regarded as asexual beings anyway. I wore my weight like a blanket. It covered and protected me from having to deal with the social and sometimes scandalous trappings found within ecclesiastical walls.

Besides, with my marriage crumbling, food became my crutch. I love to cook, and so while waiting for my now ex-husband to come home at night, Williams & Sonoma and I would prepare a gourmet three course meal--and then eat it. All of it.

Reality Check

By the time I moved back home with my parents, I tipped the scale at a whopping 282 lbs. Something had to give. In 2012, I underwent what some would call a cosmetic procedure, but for me, it was the first step to me coming to terms with the reality of my situation. After losing and initial 35 lbs, I began to set goals for myself and my health. Watching my parents suffer from lifestyle related illnesses that could have been prevented/healed, spurred me to take control of my weight from a health perspective.

Then vanity set it. For whatever reason, I deluded myself into thinking that I could be skinny after all. For the first time in my life, I could be regarded as "the fine Willis sister", a title long held by my little sister, Jamana. Never able to attain that size 10, I grew increasingly frustrated and the yo-yo began again.

On my 35th birthday, I threw what India Arie would call my own "Private Party" and had a come-to-Jesus-meeting with myself. Standing naked in front of my full-length mirror, I came to terms with the fact that I would never look Beyonce'--EVER.

It was in that moment of truth and self acceptance that I fell in love with my body--lumps, bumps, jiggly bits and all.

I thanked God for hips that could bear children without complications and breasts that have nursed, nurtured and and comforted my child; for arms that are caring and wide enough to embrace a second child not born of my womb yet strong enough to to lift babies for blessing and gentle enough to lend a soothing touch in ministry. I expressed my gratitude for my stomach that was scarred from giving birth and from enduring the years of stress I'd put it through with fad diets and eating disorder; for legs that were built to hold me up and for "cankles" that ensured my feet would not give under the pressure of my weight at my heaviest. I even thanked God for the DNA that made my body possible--my granny's varicose veins, and my mamas legs and knees--soft, warm and squishy like a elephants--that were attached to hips and butts that beckoned back to my furthest roots in Africa. Most of all, I thanked Him for a smile that betrays the struggle of my past. The struggle of never feeling good enough, pretty enough or skinny enough.

I even thanked God for the struggle because in the struggle I found my strength--His joy.

And so today, at 38 years old, I've settled into my plus-sized frame and size 16 jeans. My joy is no longer found in a flat stomach or well defined abs (which I've never attained). It's not found in airbrushed thighs or photo-shopped waistlines.

My joy is found in preaching and teaching God's Word; in sharing good food and laughter with my family and friends; in hitting the gym every morning to get a good cleansing sweat in before beginning my day; in a good night's rest, knowing that I did my best to care for the the only earthly temple God has given me. So, the elephant in the room is no longer a problem for me. I don't ignore her--I embrace her, and encourage her to step tall in her stilettos--in all their various forms.

Until the Divas meet again,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

And the Two Shall Become One Pt 3_No Room for Competition

Can I be honest?

I've never been in this situation before, and quite frankly, it's unsettling for me. I mean, this is the first time I've been insecure like this. 

And it's all my husband's fault. 

For the first time in my life, I don't feel like the more spiritually mature person in the relationship.

Compared to my husband, I feel rather heathenish at times. 

When Charles is up at 3:00 AM praying, I'm in Stage 3 REM sleep. While he's burning the midnight oil preparing for the upcoming Sunday's lesson, I'm binge watching Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. on Netflix.

I asked God for Spirit-filled man of God to whom I could submit spiritually, trusting that he would lead me and my family in faith. Yea, well, be careful what you ask for.

The other day, I had a moment. You know, that moment when you know you should pray, but you really just want to cuss, cry and throw a temper tantrum? One of those moments. My flesh got the best of me and I found myself in my feelings... DEEP!

It started when one of our members unknowingly slighted me on an application indicating that there was only one Pastor/Teacher at our ministry. Then, in talking with my husband about that Sunday's message, I realized that I hadn't preached/taught in over a month. And then offense set in. I felt seriously offended that my husband didn't even ask me to team teach/preach with him that upcoming Sunday.

As a new church plant, there is a lot of administrative set up that goes into ensuring that the legal and fiscal matters of the ministry are in place. I've spent the past few months researching records, filing articles of incorporation, creating flyers, establishing web and social media presence and doing the "grunt work" of ministry--and I've loved every minute of it. My gifting is in administration and helps. The Martha Stewart of Ministry, I'm gifted at making people feel comfortable and welcome. As a psalmist, I lead praise and worship and set the atmosphere for worship. My husband saw that in me and he's given me the space to spread out and do just that.

All Charles needs is a whiteboard, a marker and a student. Doesn't even have to be many students. Some nights, I'm his only student, and he teaches and preaches to me as if there were 100,000 people in the room.

Every other aspect of the ministry is under my purview--from negotiating the  contract on our current location to helping to secure our partnership with our parent church, even leading our women's ministry and outreach, Divine Divas Ministries.

But the Eve in me wanted more. 

Why do I say, Eve? Because that was how Satan got Eve to eat the fruit. She wanted to be like God--not realizing that she already was like God. God had already deposited into Eve the essence of who He was. Her intellect, her spirit, her beauty were all reflections of God. But she listened to Satan and allowed him to talk her out of her purpose. She wanted more, not realizing that she was already more than enough. She was trying to compete in an arena she was not designed for. And so was I. 

In my spirit, I began competing with my husband in his wheelhouse--teaching. That is his gift. He's good at a lot of things, but teaching? He is a  PHENOMENAL teacher. He is a thinker, and as he learns, he has to share that knowledge with others. I'm good at teaching--he is amazing at it. That is his God-thing; what he was created and purposed to do. The passion and anointing with which he teaches is unparalleled by any preacher or professor I know because he was born to teach.

As wives, we don't always take time to focus on what God has gifted, purposed and created us to do. We feel we have to compete with others for the perfect kids, the perfect marriage, the cleanest house, the best cooking, etc. We're so busy juggling family, career and all of life's demands, we don't slow down long enough to take inventory of what God has for us to do. Are we so busy doing "good things" until we never discover the "God thing" for our lives?

My God-thing is making sure that all Charles has to focus on is his God-thing.

God gifted me to handle everything else to free up my husband so that all he has to do is pray, study and feed God's people. All of my gifts are connected with those of my husband to help advance God's Kingdom. 

God created me to complement my husband. So in reality, there is no competition.

Had I allowed my moment of offense to set in, it could have caused conflict in my marriage. I'd be willing to bet that offense is at the root of many marriage conflicts today.

When we don't know our own gifts and purpose, we try to control our spouses to get them to align to our agenda rather than helping them flow in their God-given purpose. Or, like me the other day, we attempt to operate in our husband's wheelhouse. We try to hijack someone else's gift. 

What are you good at? I mean, REALLY good at? What flows naturally for you that others seem to struggle to do? That will point you in the direction of your spiritual gifts. If we focus on developing and working the gifts God has given us, we have no time to compete with others, especially our mates. 

Ladies, let me encourage you to surrender your need to control and allow God to align you with your purpose. Take time to dig deep within the well of your own soul and bring forth the treasure of gifts, talents and purpose that He has deposited into you. When you do this, you will have no need to compete with your husband or anyone else in order to validate yourself. 

Well, what do you know? I may just be maturing after all. 

Until next time, I wish you faith for your journey, less competition in your marriage and great lighting for your selfies!

Sincerely,

Jabaria

The Divine Diva

Leah: When a Man Doesn't Love a Woman

It could be said that Leah was one of the most unloved women in Scripture. As a woman who has struggled most of my life to feel loved and wanted, I can relate. 

The twenty ninth chapter of Genesis opens with Jacob finding his Uncle Laban's daughter, Rachel, watering sheep in the heat of the day. He helps her roll the stone from the well so that she can water the sheep, and she in turn takes him back to her father's house where Jacob is taken in to live with the family. After about a month, Laban asks Jacob what wages he desired for laboring with his men. Jacob does not hesitate to ask for Rachel's hand in marriage in exchange for seven years of labor. 

What is interesting about this text is the descriptions used to describe the women. Rachel is said to be beautiful in form and appearance--in other words, she was fine and pretty. Leah, however, is said to have "soft eyes". Now, many have conjectured what this term means. Some have said she was cock-eyed; others that she was homely looking. However you choose to describe it, at the end of the day, she wasn't the fine sister. She was not the one the boys were clamoring to ask the father's permission to date. She was destined for "old maid" status. I'm sure if Leah were living in the 21st century, she'd feel much like Katherine Heigl's character, Jane in 27 dresses. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

No doubt that Rachel had Jacob's heart. Yet it was Leah whom Jacob was given after his initial seven years of labor. Imagine being forced to marry and lay with a man promised to your younger sister. It was as if, Leah was the unwanted Zonk prize from Let's Make a Deal. 

Despite knowing that Jacob did not love her, Leah still gave her heart to him. 

What do you do when the man to whom you've given your heart has given his heart to someone else?

Leah spent many years trying to buy Jacob's heart through her womb. She gave him four sons, and after each of the first three sons, she declared in desperation, "Now my husband will love me". Unfortunately, the love she so desired from Jacob was never to be received.

It was not until her fourth son, Judah, that she declared, "Now, I will praise the Lord."

Many times we try to purchase affection, approval and affirmation from people not worth the proceeds of our labor.

We have multiple children for men who never offer us a wedding ring in exchange. We pay for college degrees and training for him to get that job or that promotion all while holding down the house, the business and the children, only to be repaid with regret.

I remember giving my heart to a young man in high school. I gave him my heart and my virginity. To be with him, I gave up numerous scholarships to colleges all over the country and chose to stay in Mobile so we could be together. He gave me a shallow promise of "forever" (which, in high school terms, was about 6 months), and in October of my freshman year of undergrad, he broke up with me. I was devastated. Regrettably, that would not be the last time I gave my heart to someone who had no clue what to do with it.

We give our hearts to men who have a heart for someone or something else. And it is because we have never learned how to develop and guard our own hearts with diligence.

Rachel never had to really develop her heart because all of the attention and affection she needed was readily available to her. As beautiful as she was, she was undoubtedly often showered with praise and compliments on her beauty. Here sense of self-esteem and self-worth were constantly bolstered by others.

Leah, by comparison, was much more like me--she had to search the wells of her soul daily to conjure forth her sense of self-worth. She was constantly reminded of her age and lack of male suitors asking for her hand in marriage. After all, at the ripe old age of 17, who would want an old maid for a wife?

Finally, her father took matters into his own hands and forced her to marry a man who didn't love her--and whom she probably didn't love. But oh! How she longed for his affection. If he could just look at her with the same eyes as he did Rachel. Night after night she spent lying beside Jacob, his back turned away from her, knowing that he was thinking of her sister--how that must have hurt.

But God saw Leah's heart, and he blessed her womb. 

Despite the hurt we go through, God sees our hearts. He knows what we need and he will bless our "wombs". Not just our physical wombs, but our spiritual wombs. He will birth great things in us if we would trust him with our hearts.

What is God wanting to birth in you today? What womb in your life seems barren that God wants to impregnate with the power of His word?

The only way to find out is to attune your heart to that of God's. The Bible declares that if we delight in Him, He will give us the desires of our heart(1).

Do you find yourself delighting in God? Do you get excited over the opportunity to spend time alone in His presence? Do you seek His face, or only His hand? Do you see his statutes and commandments as a blessing to be treasured or a burden to be endured?

It is only when God is the center of our world that He can bring the people and resources we need into our lives to accomplish His purpose and plan. When we delight in Him, we push aside our agenda for His promises. Our vision is no longer focused inward, but rather upward and then outward to others.

Leah finally realized that her purpose was to praise the Lord. Through all of her rejection, hurt and disappointment, she made a commitment to praise God.

What would happen if we made the decision to praise God regardless of our situations, circumstances or even our feelings? Praise comes out of a realization of purpose. When we realize that we were created and ordained to praise the Lord, we can put life in perspective. We develop a God-centered vision for our lives, and we are able to live our lives to the glory of God.

Leah is by far, my favorite character in Scripture. Her resiliency and heart made her a heroine and the mother of a majority of the children of Israel.

I look forward to talking more about this Divine Diva at our Bible Study on Saturday.

Til the Divas meet again, I wish you a killer pair of stacked heels on sale, a heart with all of the gladnesss it can hold and a vision for your life that supersedes the validation of others!

Sincerely,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

And the Two Shall Become One Pt 2_Making Space

"Baby, can I please unpack my stuff now? I'm tired of living out of these bags," Charles kindly remarked as we were getting dressed for work one morning. We'd been married for almost three months, and my poor husband's clothes were still scattered between his old house and our new home. The pieces he did have here were packed into two large duffel bags.

Getting dressed in the morning consisted of him practically emptying the contents of two bags onto the bed to find the bow-tie, cuff links, socks, underwear and everything else he needed to get dressed for work. I had made a small (and I do mean small) section of space in the closet in our bedroom for his shirts and slacks and a couple suits. 

My husband needed space in what was now our home. 

I was hesitant to give up my closet, not only for the obvious reason of me having way too many clothes with no place to store them all, but more importantly, I realized I needed to deal with my issues surrounding permanency and abandonment. 

As a young girl, many of the men in my life hurt me and then left. And so, in relationships, I never had a sense of permanence--not even in my first marriage. For the first six months of my previous marriage, I kept a bag packed at the front door. Whenever my ex-husband and I would argue, I'd grab the keys and my bag and head into DC to my best friend's apartment for the night. I wanted to be the one to leave before he had the opportunity to leave me.

While I no longer leave in the midst of disagreement, I found myself maintaining a sort of "boundary" when it came to merging my life with someone else. I'll let you in--but only so much.

Where did that leave my husband of only three months? Living out of duffel bags in a corner of our bedroom. 

Then one morning as we were getting dressed, he stopped me, turned me to face him and declared, "Jabaria, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not those other men in your life who hurt you and left you. I'm here for as long as God allows me to be. I'm not going anywhere." It was as if God was speaking through my husband; I hadn't talked with him about my fear. We'd never even gone deep into my abandonment issues, but he sensed my reticence to fully embrace him in our home, and he spoke right to the heart of my issue. 

I stood there, speechless. And then I began to weep. God had told me what I needed to hear. This time, it really is, "Till death do us part." I not only made space in my closet, but I made space in my soul for another person to reside. 

What do you need to make space for in your life? Perhaps God needs us to move some things out of our hearts and our minds in order to make space for Him. Until we know how to make space for God, we can never truly make space for another person.

Make space for your future husband. Or your current husband.

Perhaps you need to forgive your last boyfriend in order to free up that emotional energy and head space. Forgiveness frees our hearts, our hands and our emotions to receive what God has for us. Holding on to past hurt, anger and bitterness only immobilizes us and keeps us from moving forward and receiving the good things God has for our future.

Maybe you need to make space in your finances for someone else. Clean up old debt and begin saving so that you future mate doesn't inherit the bad decisions of your past.

It may be space on your calendar you need to make for your future mate. I love Jesus, but that doesn't mean I want to spend 24/7 in church--and I'm a Pastor!! We have to be well rounded individuals living a balanced and healthy life that glorifies God inside and outside of church. If you spend every night in church, when will you have time to date and get to know a potential mate? Prayer meeting is not the appropriate setting for dialogue and discussion. 

Or just maybe you're like me and need to head to Walmart to buy a closet organizer and make space in your home for another to reside.

Whatever God is calling you to do, be sure to make space for it!!

Until next time, I pray that God de-clutters your soul so that you can make space for what He has in store for your life.

Sincerely,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

The Circus Comes to Town!

Dating is much like the circus.


There are acts going on in multiple rings across the floor and in the center of it all is the Ringmaster, carefully orchestrating hundreds of animals, acrobats and clowns all while ensuring that the crowd remains engaged and entertained.

And so it is for singles who attempt to date multiple people in the search for that one special someone. There are the flying trapeze artists of us "high maintenance" females (wearing $400 weaves while living in $40 a month Section 8 housing), the fire breathing antics of the brother trying to kiss you with halitosis from hell, the tight rope walking of trying to keep conversation going with the guy who is dumb as a rock but fine as all outdoors.

Playing Ringmaster at the center of it all is you--just trying to keep it together and hold on to a modicum of decency and decorum while tolerating the tom-foolery of others. That is, until you wake up one day and decide that you're just too tired and jaded to do it anymore. So, you go through your phone, deleting some numbers while blocking others, and remove your online dating profile as you come to the solemn conclusion that singleness is better than insanity.

Maybe that's not your story, but it certainly was mine and that of my friends. Which begs the question, why even bother with dating?

I guess a better question is, what is the purpose of dating? I have heard several definitions, but my understanding of the purpose of dating was to find a mate. Someone with whom a life-long bond based on friendship and rooted in love could be formed within the covenant of marriage. And that was my purpose--when I first began dating.

And then I realized that I had options. Lots of them.

That is when my purpose for dating began to change, and it was no longer about finding, "the one", but rather about finding "someone".

Different men served different purposes depending on my mood or need at the moment. One guy was a great cook--whenever I wanted a romantic dinner at home, he was my go-to. Another had an amazing sense of humor, so if I wanted to laugh til I cried or go see the latest comedic movie, his number was on speed-dial. Then there was the empathetic listener for when I needed a good cry, and on and on...

You get my point.

I stopped looking for the man God had for me and began using men to serve my needs--all without the work that comes with relationship. Thing about relationships is that they are designed to be work because they are designed to bring out the servant in us. I know, that's not what they tell us in the Hallmark movies, but real love--real relationships--require real work. Getting out of bed even when you're tired to get the other person something to eat or drink. Rubbing your spouse's feet after a long day at work, despite the fact that your own feet are aching to the bone.

Many of us fail to get past the circus acts of dating into the real work of relationships. We never take off our clown make-up or come down from our flying trapezes into the reality of what love really is--patient, kind, humble, long suffering, rejoicing in the truth, keeping no record of wrongs, not seeking our own way, bearing all things, believing all things, hoping all things--the qualities that will never fail. The stuff that real marriages are made of.

So my challenge to my single sisters (and brothers) out there reading this is to be honest about where you are in your dating life. Why are you dating? Are you looking for the one God has for you, or just someone who will be Good for the moment? I pray that God will move on your heart to seek the man or woman that He has prepared just for you, and then become the mate you want to have for yourself.

You want a hard-working partner? Go get a job (or a better one!) Want a mate who can cook and clean? Break out the mop and broom and get to work (and sign up for a few cooking classes if necessary). Want someone with good credit? Pull your credit report and get to work paying off old debt.

We must not wait for someone else to come and rescue us from our bad habits, our laziness or our failures. These things we must face and begin to address on our own, for only then can God release into our lives His mate for us. Just as God loves us, he loves our prospective mates and doesn't want to place them in a position to be hurt or damaged by us. No, we'll never be perfect as the world defines perfection, but we can become God's definition of perfect--mature in our faith and disciplined in how we live our lives.

One final thought: realize that you are not the Ringmaster--God is. Stop trying to orchestrate the circus of your life. That's not your job; it's God's. Know that you are not the Master of your Fate or the Captain of your Soul. If you are, we need to have a whole other type conversation.

Once I realized that I was not in charge, it changed how I approached dating and led me to my husband. Once I got out of God's way, He was able to release who He had for my life. And he didn't need my help. At all.

Let God be God and just follow His direction for your love life.

Until the Divas meet again, I wish you flawless hair days, a fierce dress on sale, and the peace that only our Father can provide.

Sincerely,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

This Elephant Wears 6" Stilettos...

You may be wondering why I titled this post about an elephant and stilettos, given that the two are such an unlikely pair. In many ways, that is how I see myself. Besides being a curvy size 14/16, I am a daughter or the Most High God first, a wife and mother in a blended family second, and an author, preacher, teacher and psalmist after that. I am an elephant in 6" stilettos trying to balance the weight of all that God has purposed for my life with the style of a Diva and a grace that can only come form God, thus making it Divine.

I actually began this blog over a year ago as a single mother, and originally wrote most of it as a post on Facebook and part of it as part of my self reflection for my application to become a foster/adoptive parent to my oldest daughter, Shay. I never formally wrote this as a blog because at the time I didn't want to "blog" about my pachyderm-like tendencies. But the more I share this story with women in workshops and conferences, the more I learned that there is a genuine need for transparency and a voice to tell our story.

Years ago, during a team building workshop at the firm where I worked, we were asked, "If you could describe yourself as any animal, what would it be?" An elephant immediately came to mind. Partly due to my sorority, Delta Sigma Theta, partly due to my then self image of being the biggest person in the room and partly due to my tendency to stick my nose into matters that I probably shouldn't. But then I began to research the elephant and found that aside from our shared lack of ankles and knees, we really do have a lot in common.

And so, as a new wife and mother to now 6 children (3 of whom live with us), my stilettos have gotten higher and balancing a bit more difficult at times. But God has given me everything I've ever asked Him for in my husband and children. I love my life. I even love my love life, and hopefully as you journey with me, you will come to love yours even more as well.

This blog is dedicated to the elephants in all of us. Together, let's take a look at this lovely, large pachyderm and unpack her bit by bit as we all strive to become what God has created us to be: Divine Divas.

Until the Divas meet again, may your make up remain flawless, your hair on fleek and your mind in perfect peace.

Sincerely,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

What are You Thirsty For?

We've all heard the term T.H.O.T., an acronym meaning, "Thirsty Hoes Over There". The term is degrading and misogynistic at best. Aimed primarily at females, this saying, which is splattered all over social media pages, devalues and dehumanizes women and calls the very essence of our being into question. It reduces our God-given sexuality to something that can be trivialized, commercialized and sold for some shoes, a designer purse or a new outfit. 

Sadly, it is a truth that is as old as civilization itself. It is not a 21st first century thing, a race thing, an ethnic thing or even an economic thing. Even more indicting is the fact that T.H.O.T.'s are not just women. A fifteen minute perusal of news headlines reveals a society filled with women and men immersed in a culture that is sexually confused and morally bankrupt with no appetite for truth. Yet, it is thirsty.  

The reality is that while we are not all "hoes" in the sexual sense of the word, we as human beings are all "thirsty" for something. We are thirsty for love, acceptance, affirmation and security. We thirst to be wanted, needed and appreciated. We thirst to feel complete. And many times, we take this thirst and try to quench it with things of this world. We "whore" after idol gods--money, status, titles, jobs, cars, houses--all of which leave us more thirsty than before. Even those of us in church substitute tradition for truth. We attend church out of habit and leave Sunday worship just as thirsty and empty as when we walked in the door. 

We are all in some sense, T.H.O.T.S.

The woman we find in John 4's gospel knew exactly what it meant to be thirsty. Four husbands and a live in boyfriend into this thing called life, she knew that something was missing. Filled with shame and shunned by the other women in her village, she went to the well at the hottest part of the day. She couldn't take another whisper or side-eye. Not another murmur or insult under the breath. She would rather take her thirst to the well at high noon than to feel the condemnation and shame that shrouded her life. 

Expecting to be alone, imagine her surprise to find a hot, tired and very thirsty Jesus sitting at the well with no bucket--not even a ladle--with which to get water. She had the bucket, but no water. He had all of the water she needed, but nothing to draw with. And so, Jesus asks for a drink.

The request was direct. And very unorthodox. Here was a man alone conversing with her, and a Jewish man at that. Yet, his very voice stirred something inside her that had never been touched before. Nevertheless, she didn't have time for it. She was not going to allow another man to use her. Best to cut this off before it goes too far. 

And so, the Samaritan woman made it a race thing informing Jesus (as if he didn't already know), "You Jews have no dealings with Samaritans". When that didn't dissuade Jesus's request, she made it an ethnic/heritage thing asking, "Are you greater than our father Jacob who drank from this well?" 

Then Jesus got personal. He asked her to go get her husband. He got in her business. He got to the heart of her thirst, and it touched a nerve. He was good, she'd give him that. But prophet or not, he needed to know that she knew tradition and the law concerning worship. 

Finally, she made it a church thing, declaring, "Our fathers worshiped on this mountain, and you Jews say that in Jerusalem is the place where one ought to worship." (You know, the whole, "We're Holy Baptist Church #1; you're Holy Baptist Church #3" type thing). Then he spoke of something she'd never heard before--spirit and truth. True worship. Real relationship. 

Not the on again, off again type of relationships she'd had with the men in her past. Not the judgemental, smile in your face and stab you in the back type of friendships she'd experienced with other women. But a real, authentic, spiritual relationship. One that would never leave her looking for affirmation outside of herself ever again. A relationship that knew all of her mess--all of her sin and issues and hang-ups--and still wanted to be there. 

This type of relationship can only be found with Jesus. Jesus has all of the water I'll ever need. His is a water of love, acceptance, security. It is a water that will fill me up with joy despite life's circumstances and will wash away my sin and shame from my past choices and mistakes. 

This is the only relationship that I know I can never mess up because it is not dependent on me.

As wonderful as my husband is, I know that there will come a time when life's journey will end and we will leave one another. But the love that Jesus offers carries me from here into eternity. And so, I, like the woman at the well, invite you to come see a man who told me everything about myself.

And yet he still invited me to drink. 

Until the Divas meet again,

Jabaria 

And the Two Shall Become One_Pt 1

So, I'm just over 90 days into this thing called marriage...again. But this time, everything is different. This time, I went in with my eyes open, my heart full and my spirit filled. I wasn't looking for my husband to validate, affirm or define me. God has already done that. I went in knowing what I wanted and with no fear in asking for it. And I went into it after less than a month of dating.

My husband, Charles, and I have known each other for seven years; however, when we first met, we both were married to other people. We befriended in each other in ministry and worked together on a couple of board projects for a non-profit. Then life carried us in separate directions, both ending up in divorce court.

Charles and his son, Christopher, moved to Florida after his divorce, and we sporadically communicated via social media checking in on each other, but I never considered him as a dating possibility--until we had brunch in April. I'd just broken off a four year on again, off again situation and was not much in the mood for going out, but I'd made a promise to a mutual friend of ours that I'd have brunch with him, and I wanted to keep my word. So, we met a small cafe downtown and ate. He listened contently as I poured out the last four years of my love life to him and when I was done, he simply asked the question, "So, what do you want to do from here?"

He told me about a new ministry opportunity that God had given him to plant a church from the ground up on a local college campus, and it sounded terrific--for him. I knew that God was moving me out of my ministry assignment, but I didn't know into what. I'd just started a women's Bible study called Divine Divas, and I figured I'd focus my energy there until God showed me my next move, not realizing that His next move in my life was sitting directly across from me.

Over the next couple weeks, Charles and I saw/talked to each other every day. It felt natural and organic, as if God had already been knitting us together through our past relationships and experiences. Charles made sense to me. I didn't have to force anything with him. I could be myself and allow him to be himself without any of the pretense of hidden agendas. Most of all, we shared a singular passion--Jesus Christ. Our children connected and bonded instantly. That made all the difference in the world. He spoke my language and I his.

One night as we sat in his car on the campus of my Alma Mater, he turned to me and said, "Let's make the model for marriage." That was his proposal. And it would change my life forever. Less than 14 days later, we stood in front of one of the elders of the ministry and exchanged our vows. Two weeks later, we had a formal ceremony on the grounds of the very ministry God was birthing in us.

And from that day on, the two have been becoming one...

Come go with us as we make this journey together in life. Over the next however many posts God allows me to write, I'll share insights into marriage from my second time around. I promise not to forget what it was like for the five plus years I was a single sistah out in the world of Match.com, POF.com and all the other dating sites out there promising Mr. Right-Now (I do NOT miss dating!).

My goal is to instill hope that God has not forgotten you in your season of singleness and to share what I learned both in my season of singleness and marriage to help encourage all my Single Divine Divas out there waiting for their Boaz. He's out there; we just have to be patient and allow God to shape us into the women He wants us to be for our mate.

Until the Divas meet again,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

The Widow at Zarephath

"Mama, what does death feel like?"

The question hung heavy in the hot air as she walked carrying her son to what she believed would be their final resting place.

"I'm not sure, son. But it can't be worse than this."

"Will it hurt? Is God going to come and get us? Will we see what He looks like?"

"I sure hope so, baby," she grunted as she reached what could hardly be considered home--two poles with a small thatched roof barely meeting the poles with the vine twined loosely around the top. Two small holes were dug in ground--one for food going in, the other for waste going out--nothing in either one lately.

She laid her son in the corner of the hut and prepared to cook what she believed would be their last meal together on earth. After that, she was prepared to die.

She went outside to gather sticks to make a small fire to cook their bread. As she bent down to gather a couple of smooth limbs from a nearby bush, she heard the shuffling of feet behind her.

"Who is this coming to my home this time of day?" she wondered. When she looked, there stood a man, hunched over--obviously hot, tired and thirsty. She had nothing to offer him. Then he spoke, "Please bring me a little water in a cup, that I may drink." Reluctantly, the widow withdrew back into her tent to get a cup of water from her water pot. As she dipped the cup for water, she heard him call out again, "Please bring me a morsel of bread in your hand."

The widow laughed within herself. Maybe there was a time when she could have happily spared some bread--maybe even some preserved figs to go with a lunchtime meal. But that was a far gone memory. Back before her husband died, leaving her alone to raise a son. Before the drought that dried up all of her crops and all of her land was laid waste.

Today, there was not a morsel to be spared--only enough to make a last meal before resigning to what seemed like her fate, and that of the fruit of her womb--death. Her flour bin was almost empty, and so was her soul.

She peeped her head out thru the threadbare cloth that served as the door to her tent, "As the Lord your God lives, I do not have bread, only a handful of flour in a bin, and a little oil in a jar; and see, I am gathering a couple of sticks that I may go in and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it, and die."

The man of God offered no sympathy for her hopeless fate. His response seemed rather selfish at first. "Do not fear; go and do as you have said, but make me a small cake from it first, and bring it to me; and afterward make some for yourself and your son."

'Make some afterward for me and my son?' The widow laughed. He must not know how little flour she had. And the jar of oil had already been turned upside down so that the last remnants could make its way into her kneading bowl. There would be nothing left after cooking for him. He was asking for her last.

But then, there was a promise.

"For thus says the Lord God of Israel: 'The bin of flour shall not be used up, nor shall the jar of oil run dry, until the day the Lord sends rain on the earth."

She heard a word! A word that reversed her death sentence and that of her future. A word of hope, of promise and of provision. And all that it would cost her was her last.

The Bible says that the widow went and did according to the word of Elijah; and she and he and her household ate for many days. The bin of flour was not used up, nor did the jar of oil run dry, according to the word of the Lord which He spoke by Elijah.

God knew that the widow's faith would outweigh her seeming fate. How do we know? Because God specifically sent Elijah to her home, instructing him that He had already commanded a widow there to provide for Elijah during the drought. The widow's heart was already prepared to make the sacrifice. Hers was a faith that superseded her situation.

She had a heart for the things of God. She recognized the man of God when he came on the scene and she believed the word of God to the point of being willing to sacrifice what she could see in exchange for the promise of what she could not.

What does this say to us as women in the 21st first century? In a world where everyone's voice can be heard and individuality is worshiped over collective unity; where death looms daily over our hopes, our dreams, our plans and our families--where does our faith lie? How can we expect God to move the mountains in our lives?

First we must recognize that it is bigger that us.
The widow was not only concerned about herself, but her future as well. Her son would die along with her--death was looking to consume not just her, but any hopes of leaving a legacy in the earth. There are some things that don't affect only us. If we fail to allow God to revive the dead places in our lives, it will affect generations to come and cut off our future. Can't stay in a healthy relationship?  Don't be surprised when your daughter jumps from man to man. Tend to allow your anger to get the best of you? Watch those behaviors show up in your son. We must allow God into those dead places--those places where sin has taken root in our lives--and allow Him to heal and bring us into life and wholeness in Him.

Secondly,  we must learn to recognize the voice of God.
Whose voice are you listening to? Who gets most your attention? Facebook? Your Twitter feed? Instagram? When's the last time you turned off all of the external voices around you and spent time alone with God? Many of us have become so accustomed to the noise of the world, that we have to re-learn how to hear that "still, small voice" of God that Elijah talks about in 1 Kings 19. Because Elijah knew the voice of God, he knew that it was not in the wind, the earthquake or the fire that came upon the mountain. He waited until he heard it in the still small voice. What are the winds, earthquakes and fires that make up the cacophony of your world? Many of us are looking to hear from God in big, loud sounds or gestures, and so when He gently knocks on the doors of our souls, we don't recognize Him. God uses man to convey His Word--so much so, that He became one and dwelt among us to speak to our hearts and help us see the Word in the flesh.

Finally, we must act on what we've heard. 
The Apostle Paul tells us that faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God (Rom. 10:17). The widow's faith moved her to act. She knew what she had, but she wasn't sure of what was coming. Yet, she was willing to give up that in her hand in order to receive the promise God spoke to her heart through the man of God.

You know that feeling you get in church when it seems the preacher spent the previous night looking into your hom? It's as if s/he walked right into your living room, sat on your sofa and kicked his/her feet up on your table. The read you like a book, and you didn't even realize your life was on the shelf to read. Well, that's God speaking through His sent man/woman. So, now that you've heard the Word. Now that God has asked for the sacrifice, what are you going to do?

The widow had two options--go with what she had and die or step out on her faith and let go of what she had to receive the life she was promised.

What do we need to let go of today that we might live? Whatever God is asking you to exchange for life in Him, I pray that you find the faith to live! May we trust God with our almost empty so that He can fill us up and breathe life into the dead places in our souls.

Until the Divas meet again, I remain...

In and for His service,

Jabaria
The Divine Diva

Elephants and Religion

"I believe in Jesus. I love God's Word. I have a passion for Christ's church. It's the church folk that scare the hell out of me." Pastor Michael Jackson, Sr. Aimwell Baptist Church

For the past month and a half, I've been serving as the Interim Minister for my church, a task that has made me question everything I thought I knew about church--and those of us who claim to be a part of it.

Over the course of my 15 years of ministry, I've worked as Associate Minister in several congregations, and for the past five years, as an Associate Minister to Children and Youth for my current congregation; however, when you're not the minister in charge, there are certain things you are shielded from. Being an Associate Minister allows you to minister at a distance thru lenses that have not been discolored with the reality of human nature. For instance, I never knew how double-minded those who are looked upon to be spiritual heads in the church--Officers, Deacons, Trustees and even Auxiliary leaders--could be.

Growing up as a PK, I called these people my Daddy's "Amen Corner". I believed them to be the spiritual heroes of the congregation because they seemed to agree with everything the Preacher was preaching. They were always in meetings with my father, and he often spent many hours talking with them on the phone. Little did I know that most of those meetings and subsequent phone conversations consisted of him putting out fires, assuaging egos and dealing with offended church folk. As an adult I find it ironic that those who "Amen" the sermons the loudest are usually the ones who walk out its message the weakest.

When my Pastor went out on Sabbatical at the beginning of the year, true to my pachyderm nature,  I asked for the opportunity to lead the ministry and help keep things moving in his absence, especially as we prepare for our 210 year church anniversary this upcoming summer. I know that God has a calling on my life to lead a ministry in a pastoral capacity, and so, I wanted some experience in serving in that role, if only for a short time. My Pastor trusted me enough to allow me this opportunity, and so I began meeting with the leadership of the church find out where we were spiritually and financially as a body. The findings were astounding--not only were we spiritually immature, we were financially fractured, and much of that had to do with the leadership. Looking back, I don't know why I was astounded at the spiritual/financial correlation; finances are the number one indicator of where a ministry is spiritually because our wallets are usually the last bastion that the Holy Spirit has to conquer in our hearts and minds. Finances follow faith.

Perhaps I expect too much from people--I always look for the best in people and want to see that potential realized. I expect people to exhibit SOME indication that they actually know this Jesus that we claim to worship and to reflect his character in their lives--especially in HIS house. So, it befuddled my mind when I began to see members of leadership catching attitudes with one another, sending mean-spirited texts and emails and bickering with one another to the point where their spouses and children wanted to intervene. My phone began ringing off the hook with people claiming some type of offense. I even got offended!! Then I realized that we have all fallen for Satan's bait--that of offense.

Some issues in the body you cannot shout away, no matter how good your good praise and worship may be. You cannot sing hymns and make them disappear. You cannot even pray them away. Some issues you must call out, cast down, root out and destroy through the power of the Holy Spirit. Offense is one of those issues. And that is where the elephant meets religion.

As good Baptist church folk, we want to tip toe around issues so that no one is "offended"; however, Jesus' very presence was an offense to many. His truth offended the religious leaders to the point that they killed him. He was the elephant in the room that called a spade a spade and spared no ones feelings in the process.

Too many times we allow emotions to rule and guide us; however, emotions were not designed to be the compass we should follow for our lives. Our emotions are indicators that sound the alarm that something is not right. The problem is that, most often we are looking to fix the external situation rather than our own internal state. We want everyone else around us to change to accommodate our feelings rather than align our feelings to the truth. This causes us to fall into offense. However, God's Word tells us to let God be true and every man a liar (Roman 3:4).

So what is to be done about offense?

First, realize that the truth is often offensive because it challenges our status quo. It may even challenge our rearing and some of our core beliefs. Even if we have done something a certain way all of our lives, that doesn't make it right or Bible-based. Many things we do because that's the only way we've known or been taught--even though it is wrong. So, when the truth is introduced, we become offended that our status quo has been called on the table. Embracing the truth can be difficult because it requires that we relinquish the relics of religious tradition in favor of faith. Faith is scary because it is inherently risky, but trust me, it's a risk worth taking.

Secondly, we must separate the truth from the truth-teller. We may reject an essential truth in our lives because of our view of the one that is telling it. As my grandmother would say, "The truth is the truth, no matter who tell it." Whether it comes from the pulpit or the pew, a trusted friend or a known enemy, if it is true, accept it and move on. There are two people who will always tell you the truth--your true friends and your enemies. True friends will tell the truth because they want what is best for us. Enemies will tell the truth because they see every flaw and imperfection about us, and they are quick on the draw to reveal it. Either way, when truth is revealed, we must learn to embrace it, unpack it and deal with this new reality.

Finally, there is no such thing as "your truth" or "my truth"--just "the truth". If God's Word says it, then the issue is settled--there are no extenuating circumstances that would excuse or justify our behavior if it opposed to God's Word. Now, we may differ on the interpretation of the Word, and that is where we must rely on and submit to the Holy Spirit to reveal it to us. All too often, however, we tend to excuse our choices and behavior by claiming that we are "living our truth". How is your truth different from mine when we worship the same God? There is but one Lord, one faith, one baptism. (Ephesians 4:4) Our truths must align.

This past First Sunday, I preached an offensive sermon. It offended everyone in the sanctuary, including me. It confronted my behavior and my attitude and forced me to look at myself in the mirror of truth and realize that I come up short. At that point, I knew that I had a decision to make--either remain in my emotions of offense or embrace the truth and change. It meant I needed to apologize to some folk and forgive some others. It meant that this elephant had to meet religion and allow my relationship with Jesus to flow outward from my faith. May God grant me the grace to do just that.

Until the Divas meet again,

Jabaria Jenkins
The Divine Diva