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