Weighted Average

Thu, 3 Dec 2009 09:37 am

Weighted Average:

An average in which each quantity to be averaged is assigned a weight.

These weightings determine the relative importance of each quantity on the average.
What a wonderful mathematical concept!
Even with an F on the final, weighted average made it possible for me to pass this class.

I’ll take it and RUN!

God is sooooooooooooo good!

Preparation

Wednesday, December 02, 2009 9:01 AM


This morning as I drove into work, it was still pitch black outside. The standing water on the roads I travel to come to work was invisible in many spots and I’m glad this morning that I chose to travel at or below the speed limit on the surface roads. It is wet and cold, the two together making today of one my least favorite weather days (ya’ll know I’m ALWAYS cold, but wet and cold is the worse!) I got here early, 6:12 to be exact, logging onto my computer well before 7 am for the third day in a row, feeling pretty good. Navigating through the computer prompts, I made my way to the Blackboard site to see if any of my instructors had posted grades. In particular I was looking for my last Tax Memo grade and Final Test grade. I eagerly clicked on the highlighted message that a grade had been posted, excited about it.

56. I had to search the page to see what that meant. How many points was that out of? My eyes darted across the page, looking for an indication of scale, a standard, the measurability factor that would tell me what a 56 was. 56 out of 100? 56 out of 100! 56 OUT OF 100?! What grade is that? Let’s see, seventy is a C, sixty is a D, less than sixty is an…… F. Oh my God! I got an F on my final. My heart sank like it was tethered to an anvil and thrown into the lake. I sank to the bottom quicker than I anticipated, bubbles in tow as I lost my breath, hoping to be buoyed back to the surface by perhaps something I might have missed in my reading. But there it was on the screen: 56 out of 100. DANG! I failed my final exam. DANG! I failed my final exam. DANG! I failed my final exam. How did that happen?

I know you’re wondering: did you study? Yes, I studied.

My studying was obviously not enough and obviously not the right items. Since I made a B on the first test (mid term), I knew how to study for this class and I felt pretty confident going into the test, especially since I had gone over the problems, understood the concepts-especially concerning distributions and redemption of stock and all that (or so I thought). I had that down pat. When I got in there, there were a few things I didn’t exactly remember, so I made an educated guess using the process of elimination and went on. When I left Monday I felt ok about it. It was one of those “I think I did ok, but I’m really not sure” feelings as I drove home after class. I was not expecting to see such a profound indictment against my preparation and skill ability in this class for these particular chapters. I’m wondering what kind of sign this is. All I keep thinking is “poor preparation leads to piss poor performance.”

I’m embarrassed to be sharing this, but it’s me. Before sending this email, I reviewed my “POSSE” distribution list and saw all the names on it of people I admire, respect, love, and cherish. Some of the names on this list are those who I would rather only send the “good stuff” too, if you know what I mean. I strongly considered taking them out of the recipient list, because this is bad and I didn’t want them to know about this. But while reviewing the list, my spirit reminded me that my standard is not other people, regardless of their status in my life. My standard for excellence is not dictated by others, but comes from the One who created me. So each of you is receiving this email, unabridged and without discrimination (even though I’m more embarrassed to share this with some of you than others). I have to share the good and bad, right? The pretty and ugly (this is pretty ugly). I’m hoping sharing it is going to help me get it off my chest and into the atmosphere so I can push on. I’m also hoping that my failure on this test will help someone who reads this. (Chris and John, this is especially for you. Sometimes things just don’t work out and at the end of the day, you have to cut your losses and move forward.) Even down the last second before sending this, I contemplated scrapping the entire email. But I’m sending it.

In a strange way I feel that a conversation I had with the Lord (not Lyord) yesterday morning in prayer prepared me for today. In our conversation he was dealing with me about preparation time, how I needed to spend more time in preparation for what was to come. I have always been what the world calls a “one-take” kind of girl. A lot of things I am able to do without a lot of time and prior preparation because I was just good at it. For assignments, I could do things a day or two before, turn it in and get an A. For creative ventures, I could make up things on the spot and it would turn out great. But yesterday, the Creator clearly told me that the things that I am to do in the future will not be able to be done in “one-take” and that I would have to prepare extensively for their success. With that hovering in my spirit like a humming bird over a fresh bloom, I stepped into today and walked right into the manifestation of those words. I studied for two days, ample time for me in the past. But obviously, this was my first lesson in my revelation. So to the Creator I say “point taken.”

So as disappointed as I am in myself, today will pass and I will prepare myself better for what’s ahead. Are there things in your life you need to be preparing for? I’m learning through the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People that the Quadrant II Things are where most of our time should be spent (See below). Don’t spend your entire life in Quadrant I, III, or IV. Not sure what the Creator is dealing with you about, but when you see it or hear it, take heed.


I’ll be alright. I definitely have some more praying to do, more fasting to do, more listening to do. And as embarrassed as I am, I’m grateful to be able to share my weakness. I’m trading this weakness in for a strength. If you see me veering off the path, you have my permission to call me out.

Side note: Would you share your preparation techniques with me? For life, for tests, for presentations, for whatever. There is a wealth of information in you and I’d like to draw on that. Please share something with me, if only a little nugget.

Embarrassed but growing,

Crys

Aye, Dios Mio- Tuesday, December 01, 2009 9:22 AM

Tuesday, December 01, 2009 9:22 AM

We have an onsite cleaning service in our building and the Mexican gentleman and I have brief conversations in Spanish if I run into him around the building. We have built camaraderie around my wanting to practice my Spanish skills. So in passing, we share our salutations, talk a little about weather, and our weekend plans in Spanish. This same guy checks the restrooms every morning to be sure they have supplies like toilet paper, hand soap, and he also cleans the mirrors. Before entering the restroom, he uses this metal thing to tap on the door to see if there is anyone in the restroom before he comes in. I’m not sure what time he begins this ritual in the morning, but sometime between 7 am and 10 am, it is done. If someone is in the restroom, he waits outside the door until they come out.

Now call it coincidence or what have you, but in recent days, it has been in the morning, sometime between 7:30 and about 9:45 that my body indicates to me that it is time for our “Talk with Jesus”, if you will. Always having reading materials with me (lately my articles for class or something I’m proof reading for someone else), I slide my literature and a pen (for taking notes) into an interoffice envelope and travel to another floor’s lavatory to handle my business. Sometimes I go to the 3rd floor, sometimes to the 5th floor, sometimes I stay on my own floor (but don’t do this often because I don’t want anyone recognizing my shoes… you know what I mean). Now in months pass, there have been several times when I was “talking with Jesus” and heard that tapping on the door. Needless to say, my immediate reaction is “Dang!” followed by a loud and clear, almost melodic “SOMEBODY’S IN HERE…” And depending on whether I had just arrived or was midway through my visit, I dreaded the inevitable face-to-face meeting with this guy, the same guy who I greet with a “Buenos Dias” or a “Buenos tardes” when we greet around the building. And it’s not like you can hurry up or anything like that when you’re “talking to the Lord.” It takes its own sweet time. And with each passing minute, the embarrassment, irritation, and dread builds like a bricklayer stacking mortar-brick-mortar-brick, until all you see is a wall of inevitable, uncomfortable meeting that must be climbed over. I’m sitting there, thinking to myself “Maybe he’ll go on to another floor and come back this time….” wishing to make a stealth escape without him knowing I’m the culprit- again. But to no avail. It doesn’t matter how long my “talk” ends up taking; when I am through, and open the door to the lavatory, there he is, all smiles of course, saying “Hola” and there I am, sheepish and embarrassed saying “Hola” in response, rushing away like a blushing school girl, wanting to be a flea so I’d be so small he wouldn’t see me come out. Just last week I was “caught” on the 3rd floor.

This morning I did it big and went all the way to the 6th floor for my daily “talk”, thinking that I would dodge the Mexican’s silent, patient guard, trying to tap into his strategy for the task. Maybe started on the bottom floor or better yet, maybe he hadn’t started at all and I wouldn’t run into him at all. But no such luck. Once I was settled, on the second page of my literature, there was the tap-tap-tap on the door. “DANG…” I thought. “SOMEBODY’S IN HERE…” I replied to the tapping. The time drug on like a lecture class taught by an attorney and I promise things seemed to slow down like the trains going through Alabaster, as if they weren’t moving at a turtle’s pace already. But finally, literature neatly slid back into the interoffice envelope and sealed, hands washed and properly sanitized, paper towel in hand so I don’t touch the door handle on the way out, I emerged to face him yet again… “Hola” I say first. “Hola” he says in reply, his mouth smiling but his eyes definitely saying “not you again.” You could see the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly as if he wanted to giggle or laugh at our chance meeting. At least he was gracious enough not to roll his eyes. I think I would have died if he had.

I’m thinking why must we meet like this so often? Is this some form of weekly punishment? Is this a candid camera type thing? Did my coworkers put him up to this, sending him my way soon after I leave my office? WHY are we meeting like this? I wish this would stop. I just want to “talk with Jesus” in peace. Is that too much to ask?

As I typed this, I laughed out loud several times. I hope you did too.

Lining up my ducks

In an effort to prepare myself for the coming year, I took about 20 minutes this afternoon to browse through my Outlook calendar to reflect on what I've done in 2009, mostly perusing the entries since January for a small glimpse of how I've spent my time. The first thing I noticed is I didn't use Outlook during the first quarter of the year for anything other than birthdays and anniversary's, which puzzles me because for the last three quarters, the calendar was full of events, perhaps indicative of a more active life calendar that needed closer management and reminders to keep in tact.

I'm attempting to learn how to live more by principle, wanting my decision making to be consistent with the things I truly value and build towards the legacy I want to leave behind. So after making a list of things I've done based on my Outlook calendar, I found my values worksheet I'd prepared earlier this year from my 7 Habits of Highly Effective People planner and was looking for a place to plug all my "life information" into so I can really be intentional about mapping out the important things, or, as they say, being sure first things are first.

A google search for a life planning template led me to the website of Michael Hyatt, and began to peruse, in search of easy to use spreadsheet or other document to try to plug all this "life" stuff into. As I read over the articles, I began to hear echoes and even quotes of the things taught in 7 Habits, and found the information quite helpful. One thing that interested me is his an annual time block that gives a visual picture of time that you can block off for annual important things so they don't get pushed to the wayside by the immediate and urgent.

http://michaelhyatt.com/2009/01/creating-an-annual-time-block.html

So those of you who are looking to live your next year or several years focused and intentionally and with specific purpose, perhaps the resources and articles found on his site may be of assistance to you.

Here's to a new beginning at an old life,

Crys

Source VS Re-Source

Today I believe I got a small taste of what many unemployed or reduced hour employees are experiencing in the United States. Today is payday, a usually non-eventful day. On this new time sheet system, if your time sheet isn't approved, you will not get paid. Period.

So this morning, my usually non-eventful payday was met with confusion and inquiry when I logged onto my online banking portal to find a deposit amount that was half of what I was expecting. We just switched over to this new time sheet system a month ago, so I was wondering if there had been some discussion about there being another one week pay period that I had forgotten about.

At any rate, I asked a coworker to check their deposit to be sure it was correct, just to be sure others were or were not in the same predicament. As she searched, I looked back through my time sheets and discovered this week and last week’s time sheets unapproved. I couldn’t make out what time period should have been paid today, so I inquired about the last time sheet was approved for a colleague and sure enough, there was one week not approved on my own.

While IM’ing her, I realized that for the next two weeks I would have a gap, a lull in my otherwise steady flow of cash. I immediately began to think about the bills that would be coming through today, being the 16th of the month, and the ones that would ensue during the next two weeks, some automatically deducted from my account to ensure they are not forgotten, and others that I would have been writing checks for. I thought about the possibility of my gas options, the necessity for me to carpool for the next two weeks to conserve as much as possible, and what I had at home to eat since I would be limited on grocery/eating out. I went into survivor mode.

I started to get angry, questioning whether I had entered a time sheet too late (I don’t think I had), what may have happened. But the spirit of God ended my silent tirade just as immediately as it had begun and shifted my focus to others whose predicament was similar: the thousands of Jefferson County employees who were placed on administrative leave for the last 2 months due to county budget problems. I thought about their mortgages that still have to be paid, families that still need to be fed, gas they still needed to have to get around, and just how much they depended on that pay check to be there every week to satisfy their needs.

“What if I didn’t get a paycheck?” I asked myself. It sat on my chest like a sumo wrestler, heavy and not budging. “What if I didn’t get a paycheck?” I asked again, my head trying to comprehend what that might mean for me, a family of one, with all the same bills of a family of 6, theirs, of course, trumping my own in monetary value. What if this were all gone, just like that?

My colleague, at this point concerned for me, offered her help for anything that I might need and I thanked her with this reply. “Thank you. God will provide.”

There are two reasons that come to mind for my response to this situation. The first is because I needed to type or speak out loud a promise I know to be true. It was a calming statement. Second, because this morning when I prayed, I asked God to show me how I could be a blessing to others, and in the midst of this situation, I needed her to know that I knew who my source was and hopefully, if she is ever in a similar predicament, that God will provide for her too. We also prayed “Lord we know you are our SOURCE,” and today he is testing how well I really know that. We are supposed to be LIGHT, show others that our God is our stablizer, not the circumstances. I pray that's what she saw today.

As I write this, I’m feeling the tears well up in my eyes and I want to cry. Perhaps I will before this morning is over, but I’m pretty good at having a set countenance even in the midst of irregularities.

God is so funny, because I had a situation happen last week that caught me off guard. But as a result of it, all my bills for the beginning of this month are already paid with the exception of 1 or 2. So although the next two weeks will be short, my expenses are taken care of. And although the situation may have LOOKED adverse last week, God knew today was coming. Perhaps it was a set up because He knew the RE-SOURCE would be short this week.

I will not pretend to have an understanding of the financial situation many families are facing now. But today I got an inkling of the concerned thought and prayer that is going on about their livelihood. So I offer this word to you, in hopes that it will bring some peace of mind to your troubled hearts.

Luke 12-22-34
22And [Jesus] said to His disciples, Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious and troubled [with cares] about your life, as to what you will [have to] eat; or about your body, as to what you will [have to] wear.

23For life is more than food, and the body [more] than clothes.

24Observe and consider the ravens; for they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn; and [yet] God feeds them. Of how much more worth are you than the birds!

25And which of you by being overly anxious and troubled with cares can add a [e]cubit to his stature or a moment [unit] of time to his [f]age [the length of his life]?

26If then you are not able to do such a little thing as that, why are you anxious and troubled with cares about the rest?

27Consider the lilies, how they grow. They neither [wearily] toil nor spin nor [g]weave; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory (his splendor and magnificence)
was not arrayed like one of these. [I Kings 10:4-7.]

28But if God so clothes the grass in the field, which is alive today, and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, how much more will He clothe you, O you [people] of little faith?

29And you, do not seek [by meditating and reasoning to inquire into] what you are to eat and what you are to drink; nor be of anxious (troubled) mind [[h]unsettled,
excited, worried, and [i]in suspense];

30For all the pagan world is [greedily] seeking these things, and your Father knows that you need them.

31Only aim at and strive for and seek His kingdom, and all these things shall be supplied to you also.

32Do not be seized with alarm and struck with fear, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom!

33Sell what you possess and give donations to the poor; provide yourselves with purses and handbags that do not grow old, an unfailing and inexhaustible treasure in the heavens, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.

34For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.

Remember that God is your Source and just because your Re-Source dried up, God will provide another Re-source. Continue to trust Him, lean on Him for everything- your sanity, your peace, your joy, your strength, your comfort, your EVERYTHING. He will take care of you!

I pray my sharing has convinced someone to keep holding on to the Master’s hand. He will provide for you! Instead of crying, I am smiling, because I know who is taking care of me.

Thursday Morning Musings: Chik Fil A Break

And now the morning story…

Company volunteers for the Susan Komen Race for the Cure manned a table in our lobby this morning selling breakfast and I wanted to purchase a biscuit both to support them and to support my hungry belly. Being charity, the biscuits were 3 dollars and all I had was 1 dollar in change. So I stood there, counting my nickels and dimes (where are quarters when you need them?) and a guy comes up with a 5 dollar bill, purchases a biscuit and tells them to keep the change. Immediately seeing an opportunity, I asked my friends at the table if I could borrow the 2 extra dollars, put my 1 with it and get a biscuit. They both looked at me and chuckled. Understanding my rationale they agreed. I immediately held out my handful of a dollars worth in change like a kid handing a store clerk their allowance for a candy treat, and in turn, they handed me a chunky foil wrapped chicken biscuit.

The biscuit was not as crunchy or brown as I like them so I decided to toast it in the small toaster oven over in payroll (the next room over). I put the biscuit into the toaster oven with the wrapper on it, thinking the wrapper is aluminum foil (it’s shiny ). At any rate, the part of the wrapper burnt up a little bit and caused the payroll department to smell like a campfire… and looking up at the ceiling, I noticed that we don’t have any sprinklers in the room in case of a fire. So I begin asking the employees, “what are we going to do if there is a fire up here?” and found out there is a fire extinguisher in the room, all the while trying to distract them from the horrible burn smell coming from the toaster oven.

Needless to say I quickly discarded the burned wrapper, wrapped my only semi toasted biscuit in napkins (the wrapper blocked the red light from browning it up and I did not want to put it back in the toaster oven after I had caused such a stench in the department), grabbed my hot cocoa and high tailed it back to my desk.

Moral of the story: 3 Lessons to take away…

1. The wrappers on Chik fil A chicken biscuits ARE NOT 100% aluminum foil. SO, do not put them in the toaster over AND do not put them in the microwave. Either occurrence will make them burn and cause a horrible stench or even CAUSE A FIRE...

2. You should support the Susan Komen Race for the Cure if all you do is purchase a pin or buy a biscuit. Breast cancer research needs your help. (Especially my sisters... your sisters are dying) Remember Dr. Lisa Newman http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/07/21/bia.triple.negative.cancer/index.html )

3. For a safety check at work, find out where your nearest fire extinguisher or heart defibrillator is. It could save a life, maybe yours.

Uncle Henry: No trouble at all...

I just got off the phone with my uncle Henry, my mothers brother. He’s here in VA visiting with my grandmother. He lives in Germany and usually visits Pi (my grandma's nickname) once a year.

He’s in his 50’s and has recently been diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. During our conversation he forgot my name, asked me about family members repeatedly, and at one point you could tell he was a little confused. During our conversation, however hey said several things that stick out to me and it is a reminder to me that when you boil life down, it’s the smallest things that mean the most to you and others.

Keep in touch

He appreciates me keeping in touch even though he lives in Germany. I still send him an occasional card to him for birthdays and just because. And in his slowly failing memory, that’s what he most about remembers about me. I'm humbled.

You can’t be everything to everybody; so don't stress yourself about it. He said I should be in no rush to do anything. “Live," he said, but take it step by step, day by day. “Enjoy your life, it’s all you have.”

Family is family...they belong to you...

...to which I replied “… and sometimes you wish they were not…” to which he replied, “no, I’m glad I belong to this family, and the rest, the other stuff, you just gotta take day by day. But I never have wished for another family.”

It made me ashamed that I even joked about wishing some family members were not connected to me. I will try my hardest not to entertain the thought that “getting rid” of someone else will alleviate my own life’s frustrations. We were born to bear one another.

Proverbs 17:17
"Friends love through all kinds of weather, and families stick together in all kinds of trouble."

Trouble comes for everyone...

I'm thinking about him, and the troubled days ahead. I think I understand he may be saying to me between the lines: If I can jokingly push off a family member because they've made trouble in their lives or are causing trouble for me, I could justify somehow leaving that person behind, wishing away their presence. And in terms of Uncle Henry, how cruel would it be if my casual thoughts caused me to leave him behind because he was that "trouble."

He mentioned that he was ready to go back home and that he just didn't want to be no trouble for anyone, and I know what he is saying. For the first time, before hanging up, we exchanged the words "I love you." And in that instance, hearing his voice, the intonation, and the words felt like a hug across the miles. And for that, I am truly grateful.

This afternoon, I share with you the same message and give you the words of my uncle who is in his own right still a young man battling with the prospect of forgetting the ones he loves most to a condition that steals memories and identities is the subtlest of ways.

And when I'm asked to step in to stand next to my loved ones in time of trouble or happiness, I'll use the phrase that I've heard so many times in movies from times past.... "No, boss, that's no trouble. No trouble at all... I'll be on..."

You'll be telling your grandchildren 'bout us...

Just wait until tonight... I've got a story to tell you.

Long Days Do End

Today, sometime between 12:41 and 12:53 pm, I hit a Lexus. When I saw the car, it was already too late and "crunch," I smacked right into the front of this right turning vehicle. I backed up slowly, hoping that the damage was so minimal that this would be a "it's ok, no damage" type thing, but to no avail. My front headlight was shattered and the drivers side slightly bent, and the Lexus' sported a scratches and my bumper's periwinkle blue paint.

Thankfully I was going less than 5 miles per hour, and I was in the parking lot at my company. Aside from the sheer embarrassment and frustration generally associated with accidents, the only harm done was to the vehicles. Neither one of us sustained any physical injury.

Ironically the person with whom this accident happened was the same person I walked into the building with this morning, had engaged in conversation with on the ride up the elevator, and had bid a "have a good day" as I exited on my floor.

What's even funnier in the context of today's story is the necessity that prompted my lunchtime excursion outside of my building in the first place: lunch. I had just spent my "lunch" hour in a safety training with the company's training director. Not having read over the entire announcement for the training, I didn't realize that lunch was not being served. So after hearing about how much safety costs companies who do not have great programs in place, I thought I would slip out to grab a bite before getting back to work. Too bad my 10 minute quick trip turned into an hour and a half lesson in ____________.

*(I still hadn't figured this out... maybe you could help me- I thought maybe it could be related to the can of soup i didn't want to eat at my desk, or perhaps my internal debate about going out in the rain, hadn't gotten an answer yet.)

At any rate, there we stood in the rain, waiting on the Jefferson County police to come file a report. Did I mention the Lexus was a loaner from the dealership as their care was in the shop for servicing... another unforeseen circumstance. We chopped it up with each other, with the security guard, until we fell into silence, waiting for the police officer to return with our licenses and insurance cards. (Yes, I took pictures with my phone... Gwen, that's for you... you knew it didn't you... hahahaha)

Being that I had already been a little weepy from the morning, I shed a tear or two in the car, mostly out of frustration, but remembered something Amy Grant said in her book Mosaic about her daily morning affirmation. Each morning she goes outside and says "this is the day that the Lord has made. This is the day, not tomorrow, not yesterday, this day, right now, that i'm standing in, is the day the Lord has made... and I will rejoice in it." And it came up in my spirit, so I repeated it to myself, over and over and over, emphasizing different parts of the scripture like she says she did, in an effort to reverse the negative feelings that were quickly creeping up.

And just to be transparent, I felt a hint of self pity, and probably wallowed in it for just a second, the whole "why me?" question we sometimes ask. But just as quickly as that thought came, my spirit told me to look for the lesson. What was too be gained from this? Now that I have not yet ascertained, but I know it will reveal itself in time.

As if that weren't enough, this evening when I got to class, I realized I did not have my book, and we were doing a major in class writing assignment that I needed to use my book as a reference. Talk about panic! As I scanned the room, I saw every person in there, book opened to the reference page, whispered to the girl next to me that I didn't have mine. Her face told her disbelief and sorrow for me. In the next second, I settled within myself that this may just have to be the writing assignment the instructor throws out, and prayed that I would have what I needed without the book to at least complete the assignment. Thankfully I did have enough information to write somewhat intelligently about the topic.

So in the ending of a LONG, rather eventful, somewhat disappointing day, I feel the need to redeem it through affirmations of gratefulness for good things that happened during the day.

Things that happened today that I'm thankful for:

• my coworker and the security guard gave me lunch money (free lunch! HA!)
• when I returned (after the accident) from getting lunch, there was a close parking space so i didn't have to walk far in the rain
• I had a chance to talk to my best friend before class
• I learned that any safety accident on a job is pure loss because estimators do not include it in their estimates for bids.
• that God's love is spread to kids in the Dominican Republic from sweet ladies who didn't necessarily want to go up and sponsor a child, but did anyway and is loving the fact that she did
• when we lose babies and feel great loss and sadness, we can find some comfort in knowing they are resting in the arms of God
• my life, it could have been worse.
• that when I see President Barack Obama on tv, like on David Letterman, I get excited again and relive the joy that came from him being elected Commander in Chief. He's just so "cool"
• that I am in love with a wonderful person (something I wasn't sure I would ever experience)
• that people still give hugs and still sympathize with one another
• In less than 5 days, i will be in the same room as Maya Angelou.

So at 12:07 AM, yesterday was over 7 minutes ago and when I wake up, it's already a new day.

Thank you Lord!

You've Got to Be Carefully Taught

Today, as I was listening to some of my favorite soundtracks, Roger & Hammerstein's South Pacific soundtrack began playing in the rotation. Being a fan of the big bang sound, this is one of the funniest soundtracks I have. As the song list progressed, one in particular caught my attention and I have it on repeat now to hear it again and again.

In the last two years, although full of historic memories, landmark activism and a general waking up of the American people surrounding the electing of President Barack Obama, our country has been thrown into a "washing machine" of sorts and the shaking and twisting has uncovered the hearts of many Americans.

In my own lifetime I have not been so amply and repeatedly exposed to the raw, uncut emotions of our population as I have been in the last two years. The most prevailing emotion I see in the eyes of people and hear in their speech is embedded hate. People aren't born hating, they are taught it. Growing up, we are all taught things; some good, some bad. It's how we grow, know what to do, how to act. So I look at the social climate of our nation and I know this behavior is a symptom of deeper heart problems, something that was sown and took root, in the hearts of these people. I am interested in seeing how the love in creation will address and cover these hearts. But in the meantime, I am not expecting it to get any better. On the contrary, I expect it to get worse.

To that point, the message of the attached song pierced my heart this afternoon with its truth and I am compelled to share with you it's beautifully bittersweet and sobering message. What's funny is that the song is so short, that you might miss it in the rotation. Kind of life the subtle way hate attaches itself to your heart... As you listen, may your own heart reflect on your "teaching" and cause you to revisit what may need to be un-learned from your life conditioning and psychic imprinting.

Lyrics:

You've got to be taught

To hate and fear,

You've got to be taught

From year to year,

It's got to be drummed

In your dear little ear

You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught to be afraid

Of people whose eyes are oddly made,

And people whose skin is a diff'rent shade,

You've got to be carefully taught.

You've got to be taught before it's too late,

Before you are six or seven or eight,

To hate all the people your relatives hate,

You've got to be carefully taught

Black In America 2: One Woman's Take on What She Saw

Three observations about last night’s Black in America 2: (Since I was in my car singing with my sister and niece at 8:15 pm on my way home, I only saw the last 5 minutes of the Journey for Change segment of last night’s show. I’ll comment more in depth on that when I see it. But from what I saw, exposure always creates hope and opens doors to places we would otherwise did not think existed. Where have you gone lately and where are you taking your kids?)


1 Steve Perry, a principal of a small magnet school he started, picks up kids to go to his school. Although a small beacon of light in a mostly dismal education dilemma, it is light nonetheless. I appreciate what he's done with what he has. The opportunities he's created for these children and the stern tough love he's shown them. The exposure to college classes by sharing a campus with a community college. The standard that each of them will go to college. It makes a difference.

I cried with the young lady as she awaited hearing if she was going to have a chance to go to college. Her story is a lot of our stories. Even though I did not struggle in my grades in high school, the emotional turmoil of home life made college the furthest thing from my mind my senior year. I was concerned about where I was going to be living for the next year, NOT what college I would attend in the coming fall. I had a senior counselor that all but dropped me off at the school herself in terms of re-focusing my mind on my educational future. Ms. Linda Griffin at E.B. Erwin High School in Center Point, AL was a vessel used to save my life. I tell her every time I see her. Who saved yours? Be sure you thank them.

I found it interesting that even with the success of Dr. Perry’s school and its students, the parental involvement was still SO LOW! What’s going on with some of our parents? How can we engage them in ways that work for them (knowing some are working tirelessly just to provide basic living needs)? Where can I fit in to fill the void of the absent-at-school parents (maybe I can go to the conference for them) for these kids so they have a adult presence who can help in that role? Is there a need for adopted community "people" to take one or two children under their wing to see them through their journey? Definitely something to think about, even for the professionals who do not have children and have the time, emotional and intellectual capital, to invest in these children.

What schools in our community could use some support so they can do what he is doing with these high school kids? Have you looked lately? What are the magnet schools in and around Birmingham? With all the displaced educators in the city, why not start another school with these teachers? The community has the money to fund it, we have just got to start looking under stones. I'm glad to be apart of one solution, the Birmingham Change Fund, because with our combined resources, we are addressing these issues in the Birmingham community. http://www.birminghamchangefund.org/

2 John Rice and his program Management Leadership for Tomorrow (MLT) remind me of INROADS in its execution. Those of you who are INROAD Alums remember the leadership training we went through, especially those intense business breakout sessions where all HADES breaks out (like dealing with a major oil spill in the gulf), much like what we saw on the show. INROADS is the reason I have my job. I’ve been with my company for 6 years (9 including the three summers I interned with them). Great program. I also found out something new about John Legend and it made me smile! How do you get in? Check it out! http://www.ml4t.org/


3 I believe it was my sophomore year in college when my suite mate brought home a book entitled Our Kind of People by Lawrence Otis, Graham to read about the black upper class. (Great read by the way. If you’re a history buff, I know you’ll enjoy it). Numerous conversations ensued behind reading that book about wealth in the black community and the society that existed just above our heads that we had only heard discussed in kitchen conversations between aunts and grandmothers about the “other blacks” who lived in places like Mountain Brook, AL or Hyde Park, IL or Prince George County, MD. I’ll have to add that book to my reading list for the next year.

How interesting to hear last night about the needs of this economic bracket of MY people. It further confirmed Maya Angelou’s saying that “as human beings we are more alike than we are unalike,” and it prompted me to think how too many times we perceive and categorize ourselves and others in ways that separate us instead of bring us together; that divides us rather than unify us.

The Tuxedo Ball they highlighted is the same as the mixers and meet and greets we go to meet people. The bottom line question is how do you create opportunities to build relationships for yourself and others to allow you to live your dream life? I believe we ask ourselves that question all through life. What's your answer?

Overall, I'm looking forward to the conclusion tonight of this much touted documentary. I'm also looking forward to Latino in America, set to air in October of this year. I hope she continues the series for many ethnic groups here in America. I'd want to hear and see, read and understand. I'm sure I'll be better for it.

Life tainted by tragic end: Steve McNair

I heard about Steve McNair from B on Saturday when he received a text message from his friend. I’m saddened and disgusted. This man was phenomenal. Awesome in his own right in his football career, his community service, and leadership, but I can’t even see all that anymore because his girlfriend killed him. So sad. How tragic and unfortunate for his family to have witnessed the end of his life for such a stupid reason.

It reminds me of Proverbs 5 that I just read on Sunday morning:

3-6 The lips of a seductive woman are oh so sweet, her soft words are oh so smooth.But it won't be long before she's gravel in your mouth, a pain in your gut, a wound in your heart.She's dancing down the primrose path to Death; she's headed straight for Hell and taking you with her.She hasn't a clue about Real Life, about who she is or where she's going. 7-14 So, my friend, listen closely; don't treat my words casually.Keep your distance from such a woman; absolutely stay out of her neighborhood.You don't want to squander your wonderful life, to waste your precious life among the hardhearted.Why should you allow strangers to take advantage of you? Why be exploited by those who care nothing for you?You don't want to end your life full of regrets, nothing but sin and bones,Saying, "Oh, why didn't I do what they told me? Why did I reject a disciplined life?Why didn't I listen to my mentors, or take my teachers seriously?My life is ruined! I haven't one blessed thing to show for my life!"


Steve had so many wonderful things to show for his life. His commitment to giving back to the community, his family, his career, all of it is a wonderful story of triumph and success. How many great mens' lives have been brought down by a relationship with an outside woman? It's been going on for ages. My prayers go out to his family and friends. Tell me your thoughts on McNair and his unnecessary death.

29 and Counting: I'm Alive

Hello twenty-nine,



Even the hustle and bustle of morning traffic could not capture my attention as I drove this morning. My heart burst this morning like over filled wine skins, unable to hold more. A heart so full that my body had to adjust to provide a release, so my eyes volunteered and opened tear ducts to relieve the pressure of my heart by spilling its overflow down the profile of my face. Joy and pain find aqueduct paths downstream to the same place, forming a puddle under my chin until the weight of gravity causes individual droplets to splatter softly on my blouse. It’s unexpected, all this spillage, and therefore I have no set plan to make them stop. All morning, at some point or another, they continue to release heart pressure.

“Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair. It’s had tacks in it, and splinters, and boards torn up, and places with no carpet on the floor—bare.” That Langston Hughes is something else. He wrote Mother to Son during a time when life was tougher, harder to manage. This morning is one of those “hard to manage” mornings emotionally. And yes, it’s only 10:25 a.m. But on my way to work, I was reminded that on this day twenty nine years and 9 months ago, my spirit said this to my Creator…

“Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother's
womb.
I thank you, High God—you're breathtaking! Body and soul, I am
marvelously made!
I worship in adoration—what a creation! You know me inside
and out, you know every bone in my body; You know exactly how I was made,
bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book,
you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were
spread out before you, Your thoughts—how rare, how beautiful! God, I'll never
comprehend them! I couldn't even begin to count them— any more than I could
count the sand of the sea. Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with
you! The days of my life all
prepared before I'd even lived one day.”
Psalms 139:13-20

Over a lunch of Buffalo Wild Wings (Garlic Parmesan and Honey BBQ), laughter replaced tears and I was reminded of the proverb 15:13 “A cheerful heart brings a smile to your face; a sad heart makes it hard to get through the day.” Coworkers and hot wings definitely lightened my spirits. Friends in other cities called and left messages of well wishes. Surprisingly when I returned home, I found a bath drawn, a queen chair, and loving family waiting to see what I wanted to eat for the evening. Care wrapped itself around me. I was enveloped with love. This celebration began 5 days ago, however, and I must share with you the story of what the days entailed.

Very seldom have I been so overwhelmed that it renders me speechless, but last weekend’s birthday festivities were one for the record books. Friday B & I enjoyed dinner at Nikki’s West, a local soul food restaurant that’s been around since the 1930’s. Afterward, I laughed until I cried at the movie “Hangover.” Saturday was busy, errands and a baby shower, but by 7 pm, the mad dash had ended I prepared to meet B at a rendezvous spot for my “surprise”. To my delight and excitement, we ended up at the BJCC Concert Hall and enjoyed Chrissette Michelle, Musiq Soulchild, and Anthony Hamilton in concert. Talk about a good combination… Anthony took it to church with his rendition of “Praying forYou”, sent goose bumps up my arms with “The Point of it All”, took it back with “Charlene”, and generally put on a great show, all the while nursing a hurt leg first on a cane, then later in the show, with a full set of crutches. It was an awesome evening of great music with a great man.

Even Sunday I had plans to go to t-town to visit with B’s friends, but had to deviate from that plan due to Youth Day at my local assembly. The service was spirited and completely “youth” oriented. Our guest minister Dwayne Thompson was awesome! He was relevant and refreshing and real. After he began ministering I had to slip out, however, to go pick up the cake from Sam’s Club and punch for the refreshments after church. By the time I arrived back at the church, I walked in just in time to give remarks and rush to the fellowship hall to pour juice. It was hot, I was sweating, and after all had been served, I was looking forward to using the rest of my day to take a nap and relax.

Since B had gone on to t-town, I didn’t expect to hear back from him until late that evening. I accompanied my parents and sister to lunch at O’Charley’s. We ran into my aunt and uncle while there and also saw a few church members. We laughed and talked, ate and drank. To my surprise, I got a call from B saying he was on his way back into town and wanted to meet up with me. We made plans to meet at the shopping center not to far from his house. Meeting up at Lowe’s, we leisurely walked through the store. Our next stop was Best Buy, the next, TJ Maxx. When we walked into TJ Maxx, I went to the home section and found a 1000 thread count king size sheet set for $70.00, but didn’t want to get it then. We were there less than 10 minutes when B asked if I was ready to go. I said sure and we got back in the car. Then B turns to me and says “ok, I’m taking you somewhere but you can’t see how to get there. I need you to close your eyes and keep them closed. Do you trust me?” “Yes,” I reply. He thought better of it, said he needed to blindfold me, so he reaches into the back seat and rolls up this huge sweatshirt and covers my eyes. He then leans my seat all the way back so I really can’t see.

My first reaction is excitement. Where the heck is he taking me? Then the questions come: Are you afraid of heights? No. Ok good. Can you swim? Yes. Good, even if you couldn’t I can so you would be good. My second thought is concern. Same question, different sentiment: where the heck is he taking me? I’m thinking we’re going to end up in the woods somewhere near some water. I think that maybe he’s made a special dinner out in the woods. But after a minute I stop trying to guess and just enjoy the moment. I ask him if he’s a psycho and proceed to tell him that if he kills me, my ghost would haunt him the rest of his life and that people would think he was crazy. He laughed and soon the vehicle came to a stop. He came around to my side of the car to get me and he guided me up some steps and I realize we’re at a house when I cross the threshold of the door and feel carpet under my feet. An arm reaches around me from the left and I immediately ask “who is this?” The room erupted in laughter, the blindfold was taken off, and there stood a room full of my loved ones.

Everyone, and I mean everyone, was there. The first face I saw was my father (it was his arm that wrapped around me). Then my grandmother and aunt (the one i had seen earlier at O'Charleys), my mom, my brother and his wife, and all my close friends, all laughing and clapping and taking pictures. I can’t remember the last time I was completely surprised. I turned to B, hugged and kissed him, then turned around and tried to think of something to say but there was nothing. I was overwhelmed by the people there, my closest friends and family, the effort it took to put the party together, the thought that went into it. When my dad blessed the food, my gratitude poured down my face in tears and I was certain this was yet another way that the Creator was showing me just how much He loved me. I also felt how B loved me. I felt it deep inside, in my core, down in my soul. If I could, I would bottle up that knowing and sell it. Everyone needs to know they are loved like that. Lives would change with that knowing. People would live better with that knowing. Smile more, laugh out loud, dance, and cry, they would feel alive with that knowing. To think the Creator wanted me to experience this knowing in a tangible, pragmatic way is something I will forever remember. It is my prayer each of you experience this too.

5 and A Half Days til 29: The Day the World Stopped for Music

Tonight, in the quiet of my empty home, I put on a cd of Kevin Singleton, sat back in my computer chair and closed my eyes. Having already washed my face and twisted my hair for the night, I settled back, with nothing to do but to let my heart grieve once again. The last three weeks I've been to more funerals than I have been to in the last 3 years. All of them unexpected, sudden, devastating.

As the tears escape the gate of my eyelids and plummet down the profile of my face, my heart aches. Not just for Michael, the young boy turned man who grew up to become the best entertainer this world has ever had the priviledge of seeing. Not just for the family who entertained the world and kept us dancing for decades. Not just for the children who are left without a father. I cry for the loss of innocence, the loss of a light, the loss of an opportunity for new beginnings.

I thought about the pressure he endured during his life. I only have a small idea of the greater intensity of a life exposed. I have a friend that became famous overnight and I watched him manage the delicate balancing act of his public life and his private life. Difficult to manage. So I multiply that times 1 million because this is the King of Pop. The man who sang lead on "Got to Be There", made us move with "Working Day and Night", grooved us with "Bad", introduced the world to a short film video in "Thriller", wowed us with his smoothness in "Remember the Time", compelled us to look within in "Man in the Mirror"... I mean, I could go on and on and on.

He was our entertainer. We loved him. We shared him with the world because we knew they loved him too.

Watching the deterioration of his life, the bad decisions, the lawsuits, the aesthetic changes, the bizarre behavior with his children, the unexplained reasons for the constant surrounding of children in close quarters, he fell out of my good graces and entered a category with me that I would label "Not sure; but something ain't right." I too judged him, made jokes about his misfortune, disapproved of the too skinny nose, and wondered just what the heck was going on with him.

Then I heard he was going back on tour. I was excited and disappointed. Glad that people in Europe still loved him enough to let him perform and disappointed that my financial resources wouldn't allow me to see him in person. It gave me an indication that perhaps there was still a chance for him to put a troubled 10 years behind him and be seen as the wonderful performer, dancer, entertainer and person he's always been beneath all the ugly situations that had piled on top of him. You know life has a tendency of doing that. Piling ugly things on top of you, some self imposed junk, some unrequested junk, and covers up your light, mutes your voice, and cloaks your presence to shadows. I was hoping this was his come back.

Now this. My friend called me this afternoon at work, very disturbed and anxious, asking had I heard the news about Michael Jackson. Their call caught me off guard and actually I laughed because I had never heard that much care/concern in their voice for someone who wasn't a friend or family member. There was an urgency in their voice for me to take notice, make a mark, remember this day. And as the evening wore on I realized just how much it meant to my friend that their childhood idol, our American Idol before the show exited, had departed us at such a tender age, and so suddenly and unexpectedly. They were grieving. My friend made a statement that is true for everyone. It's important that we remember that people, no matter how perfect we expect them to be, are indeed human. And the best thing you can do for a person is to give them a break and let them be. Let's try to remember this the next time we find ourselves judging and comparing and downing another individual.

Tonight, on the way home, my grief hit me. Some of it was for Michael. But also for Rogers Malbrough, for Kervin King, for Mrs. Bynum, for Pumpkin, and a few others that have passed in the last two weeks.

The world has lost a light... may his music let his life shine on...

In memory of Mike... the one who made me dance and sing out loud... I will continue

6 days til 29: Who's World Is it Anyway?

Yesterday I received an article written by Roland Martin, a nationally syndicated columnist and CNN Contributor, entitled “U.S. should leave Iran alone.” In it, Martin asserts that Obama critics wrongly accuse him of being too cautious with Iran and then proceeds to teach a short history lesson on the history between the US and Iran.

You must read the article: http://www.cnn.com/2009/POLITICS/06/24/martin.obama.iran/index.html

During the article, he references a book "Overthrow: America's Century of Regime Change from Hawaii to Iraq" by Stephen Kinzer. Stephen Kinzer is an author and reporter and veteran New York Times correspondent. (Source: http://www.stephenkinzer.com/)

In it, he writes that the invasion of Iraq “was the culmination of a 110-year period during which Americans overthrew fourteen governments that displeased them for various ideological, political, and economic reasons.
(Source: http://www.democracynow.org/2006/4/21/overthrow_americas_century_of_regime_change)

Being a history buff, my friend went out and purchased the audio book version and conversation about the book ensued in a phone call last evening. He relayed to me the information the book asserted, the first story concerning the overthrow of Kingdom of Hawaiian:

Until the 1890s the Kingdom of Hawaii was an independent sovereign state, recognized by the United States, the United Kingdom, France, Japan, and Germany. Though there were threats to Hawaii's sovereignty throughout the Kingdom's history, it was not until the signing, under duress, of the Bayonet Constitution in 1887, that this threat began to be realized. On January 17, 1893, the last monarch of the Kingdom of Hawaii, Queen Liliuokalani, was deposed in a coup d'état attempting to establish the Constitution of 1893.

The coup left her imprisoned at Lolani Palace house arrest. The sovereignty of the Kingdom of Hawaii was lost to a Provisional Government led by the conspirators, later briefly becoming the Republic of Hawaii, before eventual annexation to the United States in 1898. One hundred years later, the U.S. Congress passed Public Law 103-150, otherwise known as the Apology Resolution, signed by President Bill Clinton on November 23, 1993. The resolution apologized for the U.S. Government's role in supporting the 1893 overthrow of the Kingdom of Hawaii.

The coup d'état that overthrew Queen Liliuokalani was led by Lorrin A. Thurston, a grandson of American missionaries who derived his support primarily from the American and European business class residing in Hawaii and other supporters of the Reform Party of the Hawaiian Kingdom. Most of the leaders of the Committee of Safety, which declared the queen deposed, were Kingdom subjects and included legislators, government officers, and even a Supreme Court Justice of the Hawaiian Kingdom.
(Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Overthrow_of_the_Hawaiian_Kingdom)

Interesting enough, the book goes on to outline “regime change” in many countries that have come at the hand of American hands and funded with American capital to achieve national commerce and political goals. As if American sovereignty in world affairs should take precedence over all else, including the well being of other nations. Don’t get me wrong. I understand that conquest and imperialism has been the story of the world. History, however, has taught us also that all great empires came to an end at some point. Past offenses are usually revisited by children who saw it happen and attempts to settle them usually result in war.

But who gets to say what the world is supposed to look like economically, politically, educationally, spiritually or otherwise?
And what gives them/us the right to impose their will on others?

The immigrants that sailed from England to the New World in search of freedom of choice left Europe because they wanted to do their own thing, right? So how is it that the youngest nation in the world now asserts its freedom by forcing other nations to conform to what we see as “civilized and acceptable”, and those who are doing their own thing, we despise, chastise, and try to convert?

Are we the bratty teenager that thinks they know it all?

It reminds me of a story about Dairy Queen, a sundae, and my mom:
My mom’s idea of a standard ice cream Sundae has ice cream, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry. At Dairy Queen, a standard ice cream sundae is ice cream, chocolate syrup. The deluxe sundae includes whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry. She orders a sundae (with her idea in mind), and they give her a sundae (with their menu item in mind). She observes the absence of whipped cream, nuts and a cherry and points it out to the cashier. The cashier explains there will be an additional charge for those items. My mother, not wanting to pay extra, expresses her idea of a sundae. The cashier explains that her idea is a deluxe and costs more. After several minutes of back and forth banter, talking with the manager, and neither side budging on their “standards”, she decides she does not want to pay the additional 38 cents for her “standard”-their “deluxe”, and leaves upset and not wanting to patronize Dairy Queen again, telling others not to go there.

This story is a good example of how I have viewed the US and foreign relations often times (not always). The US, or western ideology, is like my mom at Dairy Queen, having a personal standard of how things should be and forcing that standard upon others who’s views are different. Then becoming angry and walking away when “they” don’t change how they do things after being “enlightened” about her standard. I’m not a political buff, but since I have been living, I have seen the “Big Bully” move played out several times in our diplomatic relations. Even movies like Swordfish (understandably fiction, but understandably realistic) talks about counter terrorism and give a suggestive view of how we are so protected here in the US. (By the way, I do appreciate the level of protection we enjoy here- or at least the perception of it. I don’t walk outside into a war-torn country or have fear of my city being bombed. I’m grateful for that.)

I love my country. I would not trade my citizenship with anyone outside the US. This is, however, becoming a very interesting history lesson. Thanks B!

What do you think?

7 days til 29: Big Mac or Spaghetti

My willpower. Tested. Today.

I promised myself that for the next couple weeks the only food I would purchase would be from the grocery store. Last week I brought lunch from home everyday. This week I've brought lunch from home every day. I have avoided eating fast food or eating out at lunch in my normal fashion.

While sitting here during the lunch hour, I knew I needed to eat but I was not looking forward to the spaghetti lunch I’d brought today. I decided to get up, get out of the office, go purchase a small meal, and to get some fresh air. I considered the nearby fast food restaurants: McDonald’s, Mexican, Krystal, Arby’s… and decided to “follow my nose” to something uber-delicious (or at the very least salty and yummy).

Starting the car, my mind started wandering, grateful that it didn’t feel like Hades was breaking through the pavement, praying with thanksgiving for the cloudy beautiful weather, and welcoming the light breeze blowing in the parking lot.

My “I-don’t-carry-cash” behavior was going to force me to use my debit card to purchase 6 dollars worth of food. My financial goals came to mind followed by several thoughts about my behavior. How weak was I to just have to go get something? If I just decided to get a shake and a small fry (salty and deliciously sweet combination), how guilty would the $2.26 McDonalds charge make me when I saw it on the bank statement? How pathetic would it be to miss my goal by $2.26?

By the time I got to the first light at the entrance to my office park, my decision was this- consistency towards my goal or golden delicious fries. Like the forbidden fruit drawing Eve in with it's "good to eat appearance," temptation stared me in the face. Would I stick to my guns? I contemplated making a U-turn. Go out to grab lunch OR go back to the office, heat up the spaghetti, feast on my free lunch (relatively speaking), and be content with the satisfaction that my restraint was going to speak to my strong will power and ultimately accomplish my goal? Would golden delicious fries make me reneg on my promise to myself?

Well…..

…Since I used my favorite spaghetti sauce, Prego’s Roasted Garlic and Red Pepper spaghetti sauce, that spaghetti sure was delicious. I’m full and have no worries that sometime within the next 24 hours I may have to pay the special room a visit for some unwelcome lunch that I should not have purchased anyway. And guess what? I’m smiling.

This may seem like a small decision but I believe millions of people come to the crossroads of this decision EVERYDAY. So often the instant gratification of our current desire wins out over our long term goals and plans. Sadly we realize the accumulated opportunity cost of all those small decisions too late and find ourselves overspent, overweight, unfulfilled, unhappy, and wondering where the time went and how we got here. We must make wiser decisions.

How do we do that?

In Proverbs 1: 20-21, the writer says "Wisdom cries aloud in the street, she raises her voice in the markets; she cries at the head of the noisy intersections [in the chief gathering places]; at the entrance of the city gates she speaks"

My revelation of this scripture is this: the Creator knows our lives are busy but every time we have to make a decision, wisdom is always there, crying out what to do. At every crossroad (place of decision) she is available. If that's the case, then guess what? All our decisions have the potential to be wise. Whether they are or not depends on you. Look, listen, understand, act.

I haven't always made wise decisions. But today I made a wise decision. And tomorrow I plan to do the same. And hopefully each day for the rest of my life I will choose the BEST as opposed to good for now.

Financial discipline: Check (today anyway... one day at a time)

I challenge you to test your discipline by aligning your behavior with your goals whether it's taking care of your body, finances, education, etc. Test your will in the heat of decision making. If you can develop discipline in one area, it is transferable. I’m going to be a Green Beret in discipline soon. Watch out world… I’m repositioning myself!

"There is a way, no matter what they say..."
Mos Def

15 days til 29: Memoirs

As families go, I have the best. I couldn't have chosen better parents, better siblings, better aunts and uncles, better grandparents. God knew what he was doing when he placed me in this family.

Today I was reminded of why I am who I am right now. I had a long conversation with my Aunt in Arkansas this morning that grounded me. After asking how the family was doing, she shared with me that she was writing her memoirs, which had me all excited and wanting to know what she would say.

She shared with me many stories about growing up in Little Plymouth, Virginia, a small hamlet southeast of Richmond and was reminscent of the values she learned while in that community. She talked about her departure from her 1st college, after being there one year, and her move to Arkansas without telling her parents, them waiting at home for her to come home from a semester at college. She talked about giving birth alone and how she went to sleep and woke up in the dark, thinking she had died and gone to heaven. When she opened her eyes in the pitch dark, she said "Well God, I'm here." Then upon hearing someone else in the room added, "and I guess I'm not alone." And how she really had no idea that she in fact HAD NOT died from the intense pain of childbirth, but had made it alive.

She recounted the friends she made when she first got to Arkansas, mostly elderly ladies who took her under their wings and guided her through her first child (and the remaining 5 to come), her marriage, life in general and how invaluable they'd become to her. Several of them have passed away and she expressed how deeply she missed them.

She then went into stories about her toe that had been broken 7 years ago that protrudes, giving kids something to point at and tug on their mother's dresses about, the mood swings she's experiencing going through menopause and how walking for miles helps her relieve all the "extra energy" she has to expend by way of snappy remarks and anger, but how her broken toe sometimes tries to get in the way of her stress relieving activity.

After about 45 minutes of non-stop laughter, tears pouring down my face, I had to get back to some semblance of a normal work day (although I continued working through our conversation). While hanging up the phone, I couldn't help but be excited about the day those memoirs are in my hand and I'm enjoying her stories on the front porch, drinking some sweet tea, on a cool summer evening.

18 days to 29: Brims

Brims. Those old school hats that your grandpa and uncles would wear with their Sunday clothes (or sometimes just everyday) that gave them a distinct look about them. Looking at pictures from the past you'll see them often and perhaps you never really paid much attention to them because they were common then. But you saw the eyes of the man wearing it, proud, dignified, strong (he probably didn't wear a smile on his face in the picture. Men back then didn't smile much.) But the power they have to transfer a regular man's attire from average to extraordinary is exponential (ever asked a pimp why he's wearing a brim? Powerful piece of the outfit!)

I have a friend whose husband's grandfather used to wear them. In recent months he's made mention of picking up the tradition of a man he loved. Thinking about donning the "brim" himself, in honor of him. Being the observant and giving wife that she is, she began looking for one to give him as a surprise.

The hat came in today. I passed her in the hall on the way to pick it up, smile on her face, excitement in her eyes, excitement in her voice as she whispered, "his hat is here." And when she returned, I got a quick email with the subject line reading "Hey...... come see!"

I walked in as she showcased the black fedora complete with it's subtle black and white with brown highlighted feather. Elegant, beautiful, classy, and quality. It has a silver silk inner lining. I can understand why a man would want to wear a hat like that when he was feeling especially sharp. It's a statement. If you didn't know, you should. I am someone.

Outside of the hat, my observation led me to the joy that my friend about purchasing a gift that she knows her husbands going to love. She's proud of herself for being on point, patting herself on the back for doing something for someone she loves. I'm glad to be witness to what love does for others and how much joy someone can take in blessing someone else.

Now that, my friends is what I call Christ-like. Doesn't our creator admonish us to love one another as we love ourselves? Our very nature is love and to show that to others is human nature and natural. Don't let this world fool you into thinking that to hate is the norm. It is not.

Can we all be so engaged, so attentive, to the needs of our loved ones that we are in fact "more blessed in giving than receiving"?

I believe we are... if we just let it flow and listen to that voice inside that tells you to do those nice things for others. Give yourself to giving... see where that road takes you...

My friend is in the land of fulfillment, joy, and peace. I'm sure your road of giving will lead you there too.

Ride it out... be a giver...

21 days to 29: Fear the Turtle

"Fear the Turtle"?

That's what the tag frame said that I saw on the freeway this morning. i read it, looked again, and read it again. And then I laughed, out loud. And then thought about it. Fear the turtle? Where did that come from? Then it hits me... the story about the turtoise and the hare.
And then i understand.
Fear the turtle.

Dang.
That's deep.
Let that sit.
Marinate on that.

22 Days to 29: Back on the Grind

Last night I tossed and turned and didn't sleep so well. That made for a rough go at it this morning but I managed to drag myself outta bed at the right time and get to work on time.

Today we made it official. We received our entry badges to the building i work at, a sign of the increased security measures implemented due to being purchased by a very public company. As i sat in the chair, adjusting it so the picture-taker could get a good shot, i thought about being in the DMV line waiting on your drivers license. "Look at the red dot and smile," the lady behind the counter would say while she fidgeted with the bulky camera. Click, and that was that. No warning and no 1-2-3 count down to prepare you. And you wonder why drivers license pictures are so mug shot looking.

The day progressed smoothly. No snafu's or major dilemma's.

I had a meeting for a scholarship golf tournament via conference call and it went well. Lasted for about and hour and saved me from having to drive across town to attend.

This evening, I was disappointed when I got home because i was expecting my new modem to have made its way to my house. But opening the mail yielded nothing. So hopefully tomorrow it will be here. I NEED MY INTERNET!

I made ground turkey last night and tried to combine it with alfredo sauce and spaghetti noodles but it didn't turn out good at all. The alfredo sauce, a Ragu cheesy Alfredo Sauce, was nasty and tasted nothing like the Olive Garden delicious I was expecting. Back to the drawing board on that. Thank God I had mixed them together in a small bowl and not in the large pot. I can still eat the turkey and spaghetti noodles today with my regular Prego Roasted Garlic and Pepper sauce. Whew...

Late night phone calls with mom and B kept me up a little longer, but i settled in around 11... that's a wrap!

23 days to 29: Taking it easy

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Considering the hustle and bustle of yesterday, I definitely didn’t want to do much today. It was all I could do to make it to service on time. Service was right on! Near the end, just before communion, we had a special prayer request for a family in the church who had lost a son, 21 years old, in a car accident the day prior. Immediately my heart went out the mother and daughter who were standing at the altar. I was overcome with emotion and began weeping for the family, as many others in the church were, and praying God strengthen them as they go through this time of bereavement. Then my mind began to think about my brothers, their youth, and how devastated I would be if anything like that happened to them. And the more I thought about it, the more I cried. My tears continued even through our communion service and finally stopped just before I went down to hug the family.

I went home, took a shower and came out to chill at B’s. I was introduced to Avatar: the Last Airbender and watched several episodes of the cartoon. Very entertaining and interesting. I had some great spaghetti and had a chance to just chill, something I needed desperately. Again the soothing laughter of a child lulled me back into a place of peace and serenity.

This evening, we visited a friends home to watch game 2 of the NBA Finals (Go Lakers!). Being the first one’s there, I was prepared to be the only ones there (in case everyone else was busy who got the “come on over” text) and settled into the plush comfy couch of my friend to watch the game. As we often do, people began to trickle in and before it was over, she had a full house of basketball fans, food fans, and fellowship fans. Her salad and buffalo wild wings menu hit the spot! Kool aid (ya’ll know I love Kool aid) was abundant and we had blast! After the game went off, we had a chance to see a portion of Paul Mooney’s stand up show in Los Angeles and it was hilarious. The brother is soooo talented and soooo funny. He drops knowledge AND makes you laugh until you cry. We’re definitely going to have to see the rest of that dvd. Priceless.

So a much needed day of rest was had. And I am grateful for it!

24 days to 29: I'll never forget Sam Jones

Rrrrrrrrrring. Rrrrrrrrrrring. Rrrrrrrrrring.

5:30 AM came too early for me Saturday morning and when I heard the ring of my cell phone alarm, I immediately hit snooze and folded my legs back into a fetal position to resume sleep. I knew I needed to be in Tarrant city by 6:45 am, and at East Lake Park by 7 am to man the booth at the annual fishing derby. Somehow the tug of the bed kept me captive for at least 30 more minutes and after fighting my sleep induced sluggishness, I made my way to the restroom to get ready for the day.

A. The Fishing Derby 7:45 AM-1:15 PM

I picked up T-Man from his mom’s house (a kid God brought to me to mentor) and we made our way to Eastlake park where my brother was awaiting our arrival. Parking on the north side of the park, we had to walk around to the other side to the tent where the Museum of Art table was set up. Our task this morning was to help kids make Japanese fish prints, called Gyutaku (gee- you- ta- ku).

Gyutaku is a traditional form of Japanese fish printing, dating from the mid 1800s fishermen used to record their catches (‘cause their homeboys didn’t believe the stories they told when they got back to the village”). In order to make a gyotaku print, one places the subject (e.g. fish, crab, scallop shell- whatever you want to make a print of—we had rubber fish replicas) on a wooden bench and paints one side with sumi ink (or paint or whatever you got there. One lady said she used chocolate one time…I don’t know about that). Then they used rice paper and laid it over the painted side, pressing gently over the fish to make a print. Cool art for kids out at a fishing event.

COLLEGE STUDENT TIP: The cool thing about volunteering is that you usually get free stuff at some point during your time. Free food is always great! And sometimes they let you get TWO PLATES when there’s enough!

After making fish prints with the kids, I had a chance to sit around on the pier and watch an eager young man (5 years old) get excited about chicken livers and his worms. He picked up the fishing rod and reeled in his hook and the hook with the worm still wrapped tightly around it almost smacked me in the lips for a kiss. Hahahaha! After lounging for a while soaking up sunlight, we decided to depart

B. Sam Jones & the Long Road Home 1:20-3:10 PM

On the way to take T-Man home, during our discussion about college and business school majors, and football schedules, we came across a limping young man on a back road. It was hot, he looked like he was struggling to get wherever he was going, and it was at least another mile or two before the next residential area. Being the person I am, I stopped and asked him if he wanted a ride and he hopped in and said he was going up the road.

Looking in my rearview window, I asked him his name and took in his appearance. He was cleanly dressed, fresh hair cut, but due to a childhood accident, had a wondering eye, a serious limp and a handicapped arm. Once we reached the residential area, I asked him where to turn. He told me. Then I’d ask him again. He told me. This back and forth went on for about 5 minutes until we were smack in the middle of the neighborhood. By this time, I’m expecting him to tell me which house he was going to, but when I asked him where he was going, there was silence and blank stare. At that point I got nervous. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know his home phone number or address, and wasn’t communicating well. Seems like he came back around and wanted to go to a part of town not too far from where we were. So thinking he knew now where he was going, we went on.

After two more unsuccessful attempts to get him where we were going, we ended up in Druid Hills, near downtown Birmingham, a far cry from where we had started.
At this point I’m very concerned and frustrated. He couldn’t communicate to me anything that would help me get him to where he needed to go, he didn’t have any id, and had no clue where he was. After a few more attempts to jog his memory, I decided the best place to take him was the Police Department to see if they could help. We headed to the downtown precinct (if you ever in an emergency or need help, don’t go there! Slow as molasses!) After about 30 minutes of waiting for someone to help, a unit with male and female partners came and begins inquiring. The female was more empathetic, the male acted as if we were bothering him and hated he was called for this particular situation. You could tell by his constant leaving to take care of other things (one of which included a cell phone battery going dead) while he was supposed to be trying to help us. Eventually, I had to leave Sam Jones in their care. They took down my information.

As me and T-Man left, I agonized over leaving him and prayed that someone would report him missing and come looking for him. Needless to say, the tension level in my body had peaked and I had a pounding migraine getting into my vehicle. On the way home, we discussed the likelihood that he would get home that night, what we had learned, and what we might have taken from that situation. Before T-Man got out of the vehicle, he turned to me and said "I'll never forget Sam Jones." "Me either," I replied.

C. Bowling Fun 3:35 - 5:45 PM

Needless to say, by the time I got home, all I wanted to do was shower and lay down. Unfortunately, my youth had a pre-scheduled event at the bowling alley that I just could not miss. So I showered and changed, took some Advil, and made my way to Lightning Strikes.

There’s something about kids that can lighten burdens. Their laughs and silly banter with one another (that call also get on your nerves) is therapeutic. Once I got to the bowling alley, I was visible wiped out, evident in the parents inquiries about me and how I was doing. After settling in, the stress from my Sam Jones encounter slowly melted away. We bowled, slurped slushees, cheered for one another, laughed, at French fries, and had a great time. I hate I didn’t have my camera with me to capture the good times. It was just what I needed to wind down. Afterward, I went up to the counter to pay for the shoes for my nieces and nephews and the game for all the kids. The cashier rang up the shoes. They came up to 8 dollars and some change. Then I asked him to ring up the games from my lane. He said there was no balance open. I asked him to recheck, because I hadn’t prepaid for the games. He checked again, no balance. So I assumed someone else in our group had paid it, said bless the lord, and left. How great is that?
If you think I went home after that and went to sleep… I got picked up by my girlfriend and went out for ice cream.
I know, I know… don’t worry. By 10 o’ clock, she was talking and I was falling asleep on her… What a day!

"There is a way, no matter what they say..."
Mos Def

25 days to 29: Remember The Good Times

Cab ride to Manhattan from Queens: $17.26
Dinner for two at a swank Manhattan restaurant: $96.37
Ice Cream for two at Chickalicious Desert Bar: $18.54
Visiting places that bring back to your husband’s Alzheimer’s memory the good times: Priceless


As I rode into work Friday morning, I tuned into NPR radio and during Morning Edition I listened to an interesting story about a couple who had been married for years and were being interviewed. The husband and wife had northern accents and during their conversation, I enjoyed their witty back-and-forth banter. They discussed the husband having alzeihmers and how things have changed since he has been dealing with it.

He commented on how beautiful his wife was, how he had watched her body change over the years, but enjoyed her wrinkles nonetheless. “She’s my buddy, my pal, my best friend,” he said. “You know, as you get older, you need different things from your mate.” Then out of nowhere he adds “She’s never been that great of a cook, but she sure knows how to make good reservations,” both of them begin laughing.

His comment about her sub par cooking made me to burst into laughter, in the solitude of my vehicle. It warms me up that this man and woman, at the hilt of the mid 1900’s, when part of a woman’s primary role was to cook, found a way around it, and made it work for them. As I exited my vehicle and headed into the building, I made a mental note that I would share this delightful information with someone else in hopes that they would laugh at his honest and candid expression.

As the day continued, I had a chance to take lunch to my sweetie, and then went to meet up with a gentleman who will be speaking at our church for youth Sunday the last Sunday of this month. His organization Stop the Violence focuses on increasing the peace on the streets of the city. We had a very open conversation about the state of our youth, how we grew up, and ways we could continue to reach out to them. Miss B's is a great place for soul food (if you didn't know. It's on 4th Avenue and 16th Street!)

I received a phone call not long after leaving lunch and was pleasantly surprised to be able to go to Casino Royale, a fundraiser for UAB Healthy Happy Kids Program. Talk about a delight. I got to wear a cute dress, spend someone else’s money, and meet some great people! If you missed it, SHAME ON YOU! You would have had a ball! I met some AWESOME people doing some great work in their careers to help others live better lives. My hats off to my friend Katrina Marshall and her team for pulling off an awesome fundraiser!