Harvest

The season of change is fast approaching and I cant help but wander what will transpire in my life and in the lives of those I love. My spirit has been secretly asking God to do a new thing for me in 2012. For so many years Ive sat and watch individuals claim their year of breakthroughs and manifold blessings as I sit back in the shadows happy for them yet sadened for myself. As I sit in church each new years eve and listen to the "2008 is gonna be great" "Its my time in 2009" "I shall win in 2010" "2011....blah, blah, blah" I smile, not quite convinced just smiling. I have mastered my "all is well" smile while my heart is filled with doubt and uncertainty. Although the new years approach the forces that controlled the years before seem to follow me, which causes one year to look just like the next. As my spirit in secret asked God to grant "even me" a year of undoubtable favor that would change the course of my life and shift me from the feelings of defeat to a woman of victory; His response: I am not yet done with 2011. Then I am reminded that I serve a God that could change the course of my life RIGHT NOW. There is an akward balance between knowing you are blessed and being grateful yet feeling: I know there is so much more. I cry because I feel my potential is not being fulfilled and I cry because there are so many who I know would love to wear my shoes. I cry for them, and I cry for me :...(.

As I drove to work today I had a flashback of my bedroom growing up in Charlie Parker Square on 10th and Woodland. I saw myself writing my name on my bedroom wall in red fingernail polish. Every day for years I laid in that bed on a cardboard board box spring and stared at my name. I fell asleep to that image and woke up to that image. I dont know what my intent was then when I wrote it...realizing I was no stranger to beatings but today I am aware that I was able to drift away into that image. The walls of a young girls bed room is here safe place. When the world has had its way with her she is able to return to her room and day dream into the Word Up magazine cutouts of Tupac, Lil Wayne, Usher... and they become the drug in the needle that she shoots up every night to numb the pain. Being married to Tupac in my daydream gave me a reason to live. His hard knock lifestyle provided me with the safety and security I needed and always longed for. Ebony (painted in red fingernail polish) and Tupac with his rag tied around his head created a life of possibility. Ironically, today my favorite color is still red and Tupac is still alive.lol.

During the season of Harvest I cant help but wonder if God is still keeping count of the stolen moments of my youth with the intent of restoring them. And then maybe when I am 50 he will restore the moments in my 20s as I have relived the abuse I suffered. Or maybe, just maybe in 2012 he will restore it all at once and I wont feel like he is on back child support. Or maybe he doesnt owe me anything at all but just because He loves me my latter will be greater. Either way...my cup is out and I am ready to receive!

"All is well, in 2012"....sorry I had to do it.lol. Church folk really crack me up though but you gotta love em,

~even ebony~