Tag: personal blogger

Dad

I never knew my Dad. Actually, I never met him but he met me. You see, I was adopted. My Dad never had a say in this adoption. I wonder if he knew he could have a say. It was 1959, the girl was 15, her Daddy was a pastor at the Black church, it was the South and the boy knew only to stay away.

They, who knew the story of my birth, told me my Dad stood at the window while my Mom pushed me out. In the country , black babies are delivered by a midwife in a grey wooden house, with one window, no back door, way back in the woods, where no one will hear the teenage mamas’s screams. They tell me my Mom passed out from the pain. My Dad stood looking in the window and the adults brushing him away, telling him to move now, he had no business there.

The other story is that my Dad found me, so they say. I believe them. They say I was about five or six years old, riding my tricycle in our front yard. It’s interesting that my adopted family was only twenty mies away from the grey wooden house with the one window, where the teenage mamas scream. They say my Dad drove in our yard, got out of his car, walks towards me, looks down at me and ask, “Do you know who I am?”. I guess I said no. In my mind, I can imagine seeing this tall, elegant black strong man, smiling at me with glistening teeth, a brightness in his eyes. This moment had to be so special for him. The man says back to me, “Well, I am your big brother.” They say I just rode away on my tricycle and my Dad got back in his car and drove away.

I hold on to these stories. I am so grateful that no one pushed my Dad away when he drove up in our yard to see me and speak to me, if only for a few minutes. I can only imagine how nervous he was and how grateful he was that no one stopped him from approaching me. I really wished I knew my Dad. He died. The last story they tell me was horrible. My Dad was killed by a police officer. I hold on to this story too. I wonder before he was killed by that officer, if he knew he had a say and if he used his voice to scream out, “I have a daughter who likes to ride her tricycle!”

I love you Dad! Happy Father’s Day.

Be Well My Friends,

Rev. JacquiP

The Struggle is Real

  • Photo by Mental Health America (MHA) on Pexels.com

There is a struggle as you embrace your authentic self. To “Be” causes one to look inward and not only deal with the awesomeness of you but also deal with the “ugly stuff” that has been placed in your mind, body and soul by others and yes, also by you. Often, to get along in this world means there are things we have embraced knowing that those things don’t feel right or set right in our spirit. Inwardly we know what is good but instead we choose what is not. It is even crazy that we choose what is not good because in actuality, we choose what is not good to be accepted and loved, until it no longer becomes our choosing but instead becomes a demand to be who we are not.

So how do you break out of a cocoon without the struggle? Sweetheart, you can’t without the struggle. The struggle is necessary because it is the push that keeps you moving everyday to love you. We struggle in relationships with our partners, our children, our careers, making ourselves fight for the people and the things that we love. It is not always pleasantries coming home from a long day of work to put food on the table or listen to our partners’s complaint of their day, but in this struggle, we find that dinner is served and we listen to their complaints. It is in this same way, that we must struggle to be and see that beautiful authentic self, because we love and care for ourselves the way we love and care for others. Because you are worthing fighting for; because I am worth fighting for. You are worth the struggle.

Learning to “Be” is taking the time to listen to your body, mind and spirit. Getting real with yourself; taking inventory of yourself; purging what needs to leave and watering the beauty that requires growth. The struggle will not always last because as soon as you realize how much you love yourself, baby, your walk becomes lighter, your head is raised higher and your arms sway with a stride that hits the ground and leaves behind glitter from your soul.

Are you loving yourself yet?! I am!

Be Well my Friends!

Rev. JacquiP

“Walk Together Children, Don’t You Get Weary!”

There is a new rising happening, not just in our country, but globally. We are beginning to hear new voices, new songs that resonate love and freedom. There are more people who are not afraid to stand with the vulnerable and ones that so-called Christians have deemed to be unworthy. In fact, we who are followers of Jesus the Christ, are taking back a religion that has been categorized as un-just, unloving, unkind, and just down right hurtful. We are working together for a just society, where all of God’s children are free, where all have enough to live, where all are loved and have a right to be loved.

I am a Christian. I am a follower of Jesus who stood before the hierarchy of his day and demanded health care for all to be well and enough food for all to eat. I am a follower of Jesus who spoke and stood with women whose society called them prostitutes and shun them when they were unmarried. I am a follower of Jesus who allows children to share their ideas with community, making room for them to lead. I am a Christian. I am a follower of Jesus who stands and speaks truth to power before a Roman Empire and the church that supports a government that bows down to the highest corporate bidder. I am a follower of Jesus who cries when black boys and girls, women and men, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Walter Wallace, Jr., so many more, are killed by police. I am a follower of Jesus who shows love and compassion to all, not based on their religious ideologies, but based on only love! I am a follower of Jesus the Christ. I am a Christian.

So in my voice to all of you who have the audacity to believe that health care will be provided to all, food will be plentiful for all, jobs will pay livable wages so that all mothers can take care of their children, there will be places that all can live and be happy, there will peace among nations, my children can love who they love, that we are endowed by the Spirit of our Creator to do all we can to make this world a more loving and safe place. I say to you, keep walking, don’t get weary!

We can do this y’all! I know there are moments, shucks, there are months, years, where many feel like we are constantly going around in circles. Reminds me of the Exodus story; Moses trying to lead folks who were complaining about nothing ain’t happening. Well, I got news for you. We still complaining, but we still walking, we still moving! Don’t give up now. It is better to love than to bow down before a wicked, unjust system. Keep moving, keep fighting, there is a great camp meeting in the promise land!!! That promise land is just around the corner!

Listen as the Fisk University Jubilee Singers (2020) uplift their rendition of the song, “Walk Together Children”, by Moses Hogan. (*I do not have rights to this music)

Happy Juneteenth! Happy Pride!

Be Bless My Friends!!

Rev. JacquiP

Why?

I recently received an email from a group I am a part of, asking me to participate in taking a Myers-Briggs personality test and share it at our next gathering, so we can see how we can “effectively work” together. The group, I believe, is an advocacy group. I think. The group is still trying to figure out who they are; yes it is complicated. I am not knocking Myers-Briggs. I believe it is a handy tool for personal growth. But I am struggling with participating and coming back to a table with a description of my personality that dictates to you how I will fit into the group or dictates to you how you will better control my actions to fit into the group. I am feeling this is all about judgement and I am having a tough time accepting this request. Should I be struggling with this?

There is something about being isolated for over a year. Over the past year, I have reflected on my self-worth. I realize that I no longer will tolerate anyone or anything that believes I must first prove myself to them to fit in. Not gonna happen! There are lessons I gained and maybe others gained as well, that as awful as this time is or was, we found a piece of ourselves that we had hidden beneath a pile of debris so deep, that we thought we lost all site of our beauty. But because we found time to breathe, to be, forced to deal with who we always were, this hidden beauty rose up out of the burial ground and reminded us of our worth.

This is the thing for me here…I am not afraid of the personality test. I am afraid of sharing the personality test with the group. Why? Because now I wonder how the group will perceive me going forward. How do they view me now? What actions would they allow me to lead or not lead because under the personality with my name on it, they have power to decide how we can “effectively work” together.

Why do you say I am struggling with this? I am reminded when this group first started. One person came up to me and said, “We were wondering what type animal you are, whether you were a lion, a bear, or some other type. It’s hard to pinpoint who you are.” I took offense then. I’m taking offense now. Why do you need to pinpoint who I am? For those who have worked on your self-esteem and are still working through rough patches; for those who have gone through the pain of breaking the cycle of always being down on yourselves; for those who are still climbing out of the spaces that tried hard to keep you hidden from your glorious selves; keep going, even in the midst of asking the question, “why?” Y’all I need to be my best self and unfortunately this group will never get to know the best of me. Oh well!

You are. I am. And that’s all that matters!

Be Blessed my friends!

Rev. JacquiP

A Different Path

I walk at least three miles, three times a week. I enjoy walking, attached my EarPods and listen to something meditating or walking to the stories of amazing Black women in history, offered by GirlTrek, “a national health movement that helps Black women to be change makers in their lives and communities, through walking”; I love this organization started by two powerful young Black women! I always walk the same route, simply because I know the path will get the mileage results I want. One day, I extended an invitation to my daughter to join me on one of my walks; I did not think she would accept because in reality I really enjoy walking by myself, but when she said yes, how could I say I was just joking, right?

We started walking my route, me leading the way. I turned my EarPods off so that I can be present with my daughter. Turning off the sounds in my ear to hear someone, something else, was difficult. I was so concern about getting my three miles in and I’m pretty sure this is all my daughter heard, me constantly saying, “I try to do three miles”, “Am I walking to slow?”, “We doing three miles okay?” Somewhere on my path, my daughter says to me, “Hey Mom”, let me show you the path I take. Me, “Will it get me my three miles?” My daughter responds, “It might.” Me, still worried her path will not get me where I needed to be.

Our view of life can sometimes lead us to stay on a path that is safe and one only we control. We allow no changes, no risk taking, no amusement rides. We experience the same environment, the same smell, the same routine, because it is easier. Or is it because we may be afraid to walk a different path because different makes us uncomfortable. Maybe it’s time to venture out and check out a different path, still moving towards your results, but just being open to a universe with so many possibilities that leads you to where you believe you need to be.

On the path my daughter charted out for us, in our same neighborhood, I discovered a street layered with trees that draped like canopies. I saw homes a block away from ours, that had amazing windows where the sunshine sparkled against them and sent a ray of gold down the middle of the street, making us feel like we were were walking down a yellow brick road. I was not aware so much beauty lived just around the corner. On this different path, I discovered something new about myself. I learned that I can’t do life alone. I must share my path with others, as they share with me, walking sometimes in different directions, but appreciating the path we all have chosen. Yes, I got the result I needed. We walked three miles, but that day, I experienced my daughter’s path and it was beautiful!

Take a different path, even in your own backyard. Discover something new about yourself, about your love ones, your neighbors, about this world. We are all trying to get to that same place – a place of love, a place of acceptance, a place of belonging.

Happy Trails! Be blessed my friends!

Rev. JacquiP

Laughing Jesus!

My home is a happy, funny and spiritual place. Two pastors in the home can be quite entertaining, especially when you hear broadway tunes being belted out and our neighbor so graciously smiling instead of telling us to stop the madness! We can be a handful! But that is what I so love about us! My husband grew up Lutheran and I grew up Methodist. Both of those denominations come with liturgies, prayer books, catechisms, books of worship, crosses, banners, and so many other items that make up our religious tradition. We have some of those religious findings in our home, but there is one thing that we did not see in the churches my husband and I grew up in. A portrait of Laughing Jesus!

Laughing Jesus greets us with his squinting eyes, head tossed back in the air, mouth wide open, inviting us each day to join him in the laughter. Laughing Jesus is the joy of watching children run in the playground, swinging and hugging their friends. Laughing Jesus is the being of a young man who snags his first job, swags as he walks down the street, his headphones, slightly turned down, listening to the sound of his generation, greeting everyone he meets. Laughing Jesus is the couple who is now planning that wedding and getting the news that the venue of their dreams is available for the date of their nuptials. Laughing Jesus is the old man in the nursing home who now gets to sit outside in his favorite spot and smoke his pipe, without the staff knowing. Laughing Jesus is the high school senior who will experience a graduation this year and will beam from the podium as they try to quiet the noise from their parents in the balcony who are celebrating to the point of embarrassment. Laughing Jesus is the thrill of being able to see our grandchildren soon and hugging them, never wanting to let them go. Laughing Jesus is breaking free to simply breathe.

Laughing Jesus tells us to love boldly, to fly with no fear, to dream that impossible dream. Laughing Jesus gives us permission to have fun, to run, play and laugh so loud and so hard that the universe shares in the laughter. The humanity of a Laughing Jesus should tell us that laughing is divine. So maybe you don’t have a portrait of Laughing Jesus; you don’t need one. Just raise your head back, open you mouth wide, close your eyes and let out your loudest laughter! Keep that image of yourself locked in your wonderful brain. There you have your Laughing Jesus!

Be well friends! Love ya!

Rev. Jacqui P.

It’s Complicated

I may have written this before. Somewhere I am pretty sure I have used this same title. For that, I will not apologize. It’s complicated. So here we go…

As a black woman of faith, I am taught to seek joy in time of trouble. I am taught to experience gladness in time of sorrow. Sunday comes and I am reminded that whatever was or is troubling me the day before, my countenance should be as a holy glow, not a droopy woe. I am to clap my hands in praise and shout with joy before my God and be humble and thankful. Do not get me wrong, please. I love extending my hand to my God in praise of all the many blessings. But after one more child being killed by police, it’s complicated.

It’s complicated for me to smile and not show the trauma that impacts my body. It’s complicated to sing a song of triumph when my voice instead wants to moan. It’s complicated to lift up encouraging words when you know darn well the words are falling on ears that just want to hear, “Can we be real before God for a minute, please?” It’s complicated in our preparation that we clothe ourselves in an armor that is tough and hard to break, when in reality we are breaking. It’s complicated that we plan for the future with the past still in the back of our minds and the present showing up with past pains. It’s complicated that still we rise in the mornings and must meet the day like there is nothing wrong, like all is just a terrible dream and we must just get through it.

Just get through it, as we hear of another son’s death. Just get through it, as we hear of another’s son’s death, just get through it as we hear of another daughters death. Just get through it, as we notice the anger and violence that we are facing and the anger and violence we do internally to ourselves as we just get through it. I can’t get through it.

So now, God. Can I be real with you? No, I present myself before God with sadness, not joy. With anger, not gladness, with lament, not a smile. Not clapping my hands to pretend that all is well. Not walking with my head held high so others will feel comfortable. Not making a joyful noise for others who refuse to see my tears or hear my cries. No! For me to do otherwise is just too complicated.

Hear my prayer God. It’s complicated!

Amen

Spring

So, I’m back talking about plants again. Bare with me please! And if you are asking about the last plants I talked about, where I said I would find out the names of the plants…well, I haven’t yet. Don’t fuss, it’s on my to-do-list. I just want to tell you about my morning glories I planted last spring. They were absolutely beautiful, trailing up my deck and then cascading across the top. But, since I don’t know much about plants, I did not realize these were annuals, meaning they were not going to grow back on their own again. I am having to plant these beauties again, hoping I will get the same results as last spring. We will see. But yep, you should know me by now, it got me to thinking; in my amazing southern voice!

When winter comes we all hibernate in our homes, close the door and see no one until the season changes. We may see our neighbors only because we have to shovel the snow from our sidewalks, but once that is over, slightly waving to our neighbors, we enter back into our places, close our blinds and pull the cover over our lives, making sure there is enough popcorn, bourbon for the cold that is, and Netflix; these will be the things that will keep us company through the winter months. I’m pretty sure I am not speaking about myself here! What happens when we finally emerge from our dark places? Will there be some who will emerge full blast with so much enthusiasm that they can outshine the sun? Will there be some who it will take a few moments to peep out and find their grounding? Will some need to be nurture more demanding new seeds to be planted before they can see their beauty?

My daffodils, which are perennials (I’m working it y’all) burst through the cold ground and had no problem, bright yellow and stems so strong. My purple flowers ( don’t ask) peeps behind the daffodils but you notice they are there! The morning glory seeds sit in the unopened packet, waiting for me to plant them in their special spot and once they are nurtured, watch out! Like the song says, “ain’t no stopping us now, we are on the move”.

However you come into this season of Spring, enter in knowing that you are your own unique awesome self. Have a conversation with your neighbor and hey, maybe we can start a garden party!

Be Well!!!! Love Ya,

Rev. JacquiP

I Know…

I know this, whatever this is, will pass and things will get better.
I know that my tears will stop falling.
I know that I will stop struggling day in and day out.
I know that I will experience happiness and joy.
I know that I am loved.
I know that I give love.
I know that the summer sun will shine bright on my face. 
I know that the sound of music will inspire me to imagine again. 
I know that I will have fun sitting on my deck, sipping a nice glass of Chenin Blanc.
I know I will hear children playing, riding their bicycles, as their parents shout, "Be careful!"
I know I will feel excited about making plans for our future lives. 
I know...  that's all...  that's enough...today....I know.

Be well and keep the faith! Love y’all!

Rev. JacquiP