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

Walking in Stilettos with a Broken Ankle

Anyone who's ever tried walking in heels knows the core muscle, back and leg strength needed to pull off this feat with any type of grace in our gait. Strong feet and ankle muscles are imperative as they ensure that we remain standing and not find ourselves in the same predicament I once found myself trying to cross a busy intersection during lunch traffic in heels--fallen with a broken shoe heel, an even more broken pride and an extremely sore backside. When I went to my doctor to check on my sore bum after the fall, he asked, "Jabaria, when are you going to give up those heels for some more sensible shoes?" My response was, "When sensibility looks as good on me as these stilettos!" He laughed and said, "You'd probably try to walk around in stilettos with a broken ankle!" 

He's probably right. 

There is oftimes a similar heaviness in ministry...one that comes from trying to carry all the burdens of those around you while attempting to maintain some semblance of self and sanity. I call this, ministering out of brokenness, or in diva speak, walking in stilettos with a broken ankle. 

As women, we are faced with many disappointments and difficulties in life--broken marriages, broken children, broken careers and broken finances. And yet, despite our own fragile and broken state, we are called on to help others who are broken. We are charged with keeping our homes and families intact, keeping our careers moving, maintaining our heads above tumultuous fiscal waters, all while balancing on mental, emotional and ofttimes physical stilettos. 

We carry within us the shards of our broken hearts, and as a result, find ourselves slicing, cutting, jabbing those around us with the jagged and sharps fragments of our brokenness. We damage those we are called to protect. We wound those we are called to help heal. Some of us are so desperately trying to hold ourselves together, we dare not stretch out a hand to others because we are using both of ours to hold in the pieces. If we let go, even a little bit, we'd find ourselves scattered all over the floor. Then what would everyone think of us? What would those around us say, if they knew that underneath the well tailored suit lie ill-sown sutures bursting at the seams of our wounded souls? Sores of hurt, betrayal and disappointment leaking and oozing with infection that comes from festering unforgiveness that has soured and turned bitter. What if people saw underneath our well placed make-up and foundation lie lesions that have formed keloids and scar tissue, developed from years of rehearsed pain and self-pity.

How do we minister in this broken state? How can we help others live lives full of God's grace and mercy, when don't know how to apply it to our own wounds and issues?

Since bringing my 2nd daughter into my home December of 2014, my finances have shrunk while my household size doubled. And so, I find myself again, balancing in yet another pair of stilettos-these being of the Wells Fargo variety.

As I stare at the calendar and another birthday has come and gone, I find myself just shy of the dreaded 4-0. I don't think I'd have such trepidation and hesitation if I were closer to reaching some of my personal, professional and relationship goals. I am single with no time to mingle and everything on my body is beginning to jingle (despite my 4-5 day a week workout regimen). I often find myself ministering to people who are struggling to deal with the inner demons of self-esteem, relationship woes and single parenthood, all of which are pain points in my own life. I sit, listening to them while wondering what advice or counsel could I possibly give them. We are shopping from the same shoe rack. The size and color may be different, but the stilettos are of the same brand and style.

The Bible says that we when we are broken, that is when God is closest to us. The Psalmist writes, The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." (Ps. 34:18, ESV)

I take comfort in knowing that Jesus has walked in my stilettos--at least metaphorically. No, I am not indicating any transgender tendencies on the part of our Savior, but as John and Baptist so pointedly stated, his sandals, we are unworthy to even untie. 

Although he carved the ocean floors and painted the horizon with his hands, the creator became the created to redeem his creation back to himself by carrying a cross heavy with my sin. His feet, weary from restless walking from judgement hall to judgement hall, trudged a path spattered with the blood that would save humanity. The shoes he walked in were far more difficult and demanding than any I have or will ever face, and because he has walked in my shoes, he feels and knows my pain. He is well acquainted with the isolation and despondency of loneliness, the pain of having his very identity tested and questioned, and the weight that is felt when others are relying and depending on you for their very existence. He is familiar with the frustration of dealing with church-folk and the hassles of handling haters who try to belittle your gifts and misplace your motives. 

I often think of the Last Supper when Jesus took the unleavened bread and blessed it. He then broke it and gave it to the disciples telling them to eat it, thus ushering in the new covenant of grace. He gives them the commandment, "as often as you do this, you remember me." There are a number of beautiful aspects to this word picture.

The first is that we are blessed to be broken and distributed to others to bless them. Because we are blessed, our brokenness is not in vain. We are broken for the purpose of service. We are broken so that in our brokenness we can remember Christ and the sacrifice He made for us. We are broken to help others who are broken! Jesus shared in the Last Supper with a group of broken men--each with their own set of struggles and issues--yet, God used them to change the world.

Jesus instructed the disciples that whenever they came together--broken and bruised in their humanity and the suffering that they would endure as carriers of His gospel--to remember him. Why is that important? The significance lies in the original institution of the Passover meal. When the children of Israel celebrated Passover, they were remembering God's delivering them from the bondage of Pharaoh in Egypt. When the believer celebrates the Lord's Supper, we are remembering Christ's delivering us from the bondage of sin. We, too, must remember that he was bruised for our transgressions and would for our sins. He was broken for us! and it was when He was broken, that we were healed. It was when he laid down His life, that we were able to pick up the pieces of ours and allow the Holy Spirit to use them to benefit others. 

Paul writes to the church at Corinth, "Even when we are weighted down with troubles, it is for your comfort and salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. We are confident that as you share in or sufferings, you will also share in the comfort God gives us. (2 Cor. 1, ESV)

We are broken so that God may comfort us and remind us of His undying, unyielding love for us. We then are charged to reach out and comfort others in their brokenness with the same love and grace with which we have been comforted. To do this, we don't have to have it all together--in fact, true ministry comes from a place of brokenness because it allows others to see the frailty of our humanity and the power of God's grace and love towards us.

Broken? Perhaps. Flawed? Certainly. But blessed? Always! To God be the glory!! 

Till the Divas meet again, I remain

In and for His service,

The Divine Diva