Jezebel: The Woman Who Killed the Word

She glared, the full force of her hate seething through her eyes. Elijah had to die--and not only Elijah, but all of those God-babbling fools who constantly stood in the way of her plans. Ahab was weak. She came to realize just how weak and spineless he was when he couldn't even get a lowly citizen, Naboth, to sell his vineyard to him. He was the King, for crying out loud! Ahab has sulked for almost a week, not eating, barely sleeping over that thing. She had to step in and handle the situation then--just like she was about to do now.

It hadn't rained for 3 and 1/2 years. Drought had ravaged the land at Elijah's word. There had not so much been a clap of thunder in Israel for over three years. Her gods did not have that kind of power. She did not have that kind of power. Ahab certainly did not have that kind of power. But the God of Elijah, now HE had that kind of power. His word stopped up heaven. And then to add insult to injury, this prophet has the audacity to show his face and challenge her prophets on Mt. Carmel--and then slaughter them all! 450 prophets of Baal and 400 prophets of Ashera who ate at her table and prophesied before her, dead. Oh how she hated Elijah and his God.

More than anything, she hated God's Word. And she'd made it her life's mission to silence His voice among the people of Israel.

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