Where has the time gone?

Hi everyone,

I can not believe how fast this year is going out! One minute it is January and the next its August. Man, time flies when your having fun :) Time to start making the old Christmas list. Ok...I must confess that I am a last minute shopper. I know...that is not a good thing.

But I like the adrenaline rush I get, as I scurry to my destined shopping places. Any whoo, although, I like my adrenaline rush, I have decided to start my Christmas shopping early this year. Can I do it? hum, I honestly do not know :) But, I am sure going to try. I have been busy working on my next book tentatively titled "Love Found Me" this is Christian Fiction. I am sure your going to enjoy it :) Until then here is a short inspirational I hope you enjoy!

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A woman's heart should be so hidden in Christ that a man has to seek Him first to find her." ~ Maya Angelou

It was dark and I found myself walking a path that was unfamiliar to me. The unpaved path was rocky and steep causing me to stumble and fall several times. Although, scarred and bruised, I continued my lone walk. I had no choice in the matter, really. Walking the unfamiliar path, I desperately tried to 'see' but visibility was next to none. I had never experienced such darkness as I had that fateful day. It was an strange occurrence for me, as I had suddenly became aware that darkness had a way of enhancing unseen sounds. I could not see... but I could definitely hear. Trust, I did not like what I was hearing.

The sightless sounds was causing me to lose my sense of focus. My heart accelerated due to fear of the unknown. My steps were becoming shaky, and again I stumbled and fell. This time with each stumble and fall, I purposed in my heart to emerge, as the victor God purposed me to be. My destiny called for me to complete my sojourn. No longer resisting, I submissively answered destiny's call. You see, some people have to dig deeper than others and stretch wider than others. Brushing the dust off me, determinedly I sojourned onwards, I offered up a prayer of strength to God.

Oh, how I prayed for the illuminating presence of the Sun. If I had just a sliver of light, I thought everything would be all right. Why was I alone in the dark with just my turbulent thoughts for company? I openly confess that it seemed as though I was going to lose it. I thought I was not going to make it. I thought I was forsaken. Wrong script, it was time for a rewrite. God is all knowing and He knows this woman’s heart. He knows my thoughts and desires and my hurts and my pain. I will hide myself in Him and not from Him.

There on my dark path; God became my hiding place, sheltering me from the storms of hurt and rejections. When the waves of life grew ten feet high, He covered me. When I felt lost and insecure, He would lead me. I burrowed myself so deep within Christ, no one recognized me; many looked for me and saw God first. The move although unexpected was the right thing to do as it caused viewers to become awe inspired. My walk was not an easy one. Yet, had I not walked my path there be no testimony for me to share. I walked through the dark narrow path many has failed. I did not look left or right, although the pull to do so was strong. I clung to Christ tightly. He had my heart, and I lovingly trusted Him to lead me past the noise of sickness, confusion, and doubt. It is again, He had not failed me and He will not fail you!

God knows my name and He knows yours, too.

Suddenly, she was hit hard. The unexpected impact sent her sprawling to her knees. She could hear the sound of the rain pelting against her large bedroom window. It was all a strange phenomenon, to her. Dark billowy clouds had gathered hovering and intimidating. It was a remarkable sight. The howling winds were a frightening thing to hear. The ominous sound causing chills to dance over the lone woman’s slight frame.The forcefulness of the blow was numbing. There on her knees she was stunned with disbelief.

She watched the hands of time move. The clock on the mantle revealed that only minutes had passed. To her the moments seemed an eternity; hurt can make time feel that way. Hurt painful claws were fiercely embedded in her, refusing her release. The pain was enough to cause a normal person to lose their sanity. A glance around the room revealed nothing had changes. Her bed was still nicely made up, her mass of pillows was still in order.

Her Bible was on the right side of her nightstand. Her slippers were by her armoire. Nothing had changed. Yet, for her everything had changed in a moment’s time. She could not breathe. She felt as though she were in a movie; cast in the wrong role. Enough! Deciding that she would no longer play role of the helpless victim, she raised her chin. It was time for a change, yet she needed answers. What was the right answer? What do I do? How could this happen? Her kneeled position would be the beginning of her transition.

For it was there on her knees, she began to pray. Normally words would fail her, (hurt can do that to a person) today was different. She encompassed with words begging for release and she obliged them with out restriction. With the winds howling ferociously and the rain continuing to fall, still on her knees, her words flowed, as did her tears. It was ugly but necessary. Yes, she was in the right position, there on her knees.

However, the unction to get lower was strong. You see, some people have to dig a little deeper, stretch a little wider than others do.Stretching out on her stomach, the words continued to flow. Suddenly, startled, she looked around the room in question; for a brief moment, she thought she heard the faint call of her name. There in her humbled prayer position, she made a self-conscious decision (and it was a decision) to be free. Praying not out of defeat but belief, she fought past the pain and called God’s name.

Time lapsed, how much she may never know, but what she did know is this--prayer works.She prayed in the storm and God guided her through it. She prayed the necessary prayer of the ugly and God made her feel like new. This was the process: I prayed, believed, and received. Renewed, she got up. Smiling, she dried her eyes assured that everything was going to be all right. As if consenting, in agreement, the rain had suddenly stopped and the wind had calmed. What a phenomenal display of authority! At this, she was reassured; that she is never forgotten nor forsaken, God knows her name and he knows yours, too!

Picture by WAK

Inspirational: Running

It was a winter wonderland. The tree limbs hung limp burden from the fallen snow. The moon was full, illuminating the night with its revealing presence. Confused, she continued her lone walk. She was hurting, not a physical hurt, she thought; that would have been easier to deal with. This was an emotional hurt. The wind pulled mercilessly at her trench coat; the woman ignored its pull. Not even the rapid falling of snow could stop her painful sojourn.

She was numb, not from the cold, but from her situation. She was walking with out seeing, her demeanor completely at odd with mother nature’s divine work.

The passerbyers were hastening to their planned destinations. They were wisely aware, that they were no match for Mother Nature's awesome display of authority. In passing, they cast curious glances her way, wondering what was causing her to act out of the norm. The echoing words in her head became her antagonist. The hurtful words reverberated, causing her to pick up speed. Not fast enough. She had to get away from the problem. Why her? Why? Still not fast enough, she ran faster. She knew not where so was going, pure instincts were driving her.

Everything was a blur to her. She was not aware, when the snow ceased its descent. The wind was tugging at her long braided locks; angrily she shoved them aside. The winds force was trying to slow her process, but she was persistent. Her black scarf went sailing to the ground. She did not stop. A woman sipping a cup of coffee in a cafe’ glanced up in shock at the speeding woman. She noticed the beautiful scarf’s descent. Going outside, she retrieved the fallen garment from the pavement. Standing, she looked at the scarf. It was beautiful. It was embroidered with bold red letters that read TBJ. Looking in the direction, she had last seen the running woman, she sighed. She recognized the running woman. She never met her personally. She used to be her, running. Sighing again, she stood. Running from the situation would solve nothing. There comes a time, when you have to simply deal with it. Bowing her head, the woman offered up, small prayer for the fleeing woman.

Faster, faster, faster. The words became her litany. The wind continued to whip at her, as if rebuking her, for defying its authority. Her hat came off. She did not attempt to capture it. It was a stark contrast against the fallen snow. A homeless man noticed the fallen garment, staggered awkwardly to his feet. Placing the hat on his head, he smiled. His head and ears were now warm. He looked in the direction of the running woman, scratching his head; he wondered what could make her abandon such a precious gift. Shrugging his shoulders, he figured, one-man trash is another man’s gain. Whistling, he staggered back to his make shift pallet.

Her chest was beginning to hurt; she began laboring for breath. Her body fought against the strenuous demand, she was placing on it. All this, and the echoes would not stop. She wanted them to stop! The taunting words pursued her. Suddenly there was a shifting in the atmosphere. If possible, the skies darken. Dark clouds loomed up ahead. Lightning pierced the midnight sky, the booming sound of thunder sent shivers down her spine. The woman stopped. Up ahead was a sophisticated couple, of African American descent. The man leaned in close, in a valiant attempt, to protect the woman from the cold. Their steps hurried, as they sought refuge from the coming storm. The woman looking trustingly in into her companions eyes. She smiled; assured he would get them both to safety. Not far ahead, the couple entered a brownstone terrace apartment, safely beating out the storm.

The heavens opened up then and the rain began to fall. She stood there, trembling, watching the rain melt the ice from the tree limbs. She was tired of the running. The piercing cold was beginning to penetrate. She gasped, realizing she lost her protectants--her hat and scarf. How did this happen? Her hat was a cherished gift from her father. The scarf was lovingly hand woven by her mother; scribed with her initials. Gone. She lost her precious gifts while running. There she stood in the pouring raining, watching the water carry the debris down the gutter. At her precious loss she realized, she should have simply dealt with her issues.

*picture courtesy of WAK*

Who Will?

Hi Guys--

It is Friday! (Hey, hey..... Doing a weird type of jig) I made it through another second, minute, hour, day,....I think your getting my meaning. The weekend is at hand and I got plans.... to simply chillax. Hopefully, I will be able to catch up on some reading, as my TBR ( to be read) pile has grown. Man, am I grateful. I have learned not to sweat the small stuff and not to obsess over the things, that I have can not change.

As, a newly published author,I am learning so much about myself. Writing is a skill and art. It is the business side of writing that is difficult. I am challenged consistently. However, it is these challenges that aspire me to sharpen my saw or my vision. Friends, if you do not believe in you, who will? Having braved this week...and what a chaotic week it was. I am left feeling....hum, grateful. It is a humbling feeling.

I am grateful to God for seeing my through the chaotic week. I am grateful to my family and friends like you! With all this love and gratefulness-- why should I sweat the small stuff?

I am focused. So, my friends, continue to be encouraged... as greater days are ahead of us!

Blessings,

Vanessa

The Healing Process

Hi Everyone,

I want to share with you a wonderful find. I have been studying the healing process for some time now. Upon studying, I came across a wonderful site that has been a tremendous help to me. Those who are close to me, knows that for years, I suffered from several health issues. I ate, slept, prayed, and believed in the power of healing. I decided to study up on the healing process. Healing is just that...a process. It was then I discovered, Dr. Lawrence Wilson.

Dr. Lawrence Wilson(http://www.drlwilson.com/) has a medical degree and 26 years experience as a nutrition consultant and have authored five books. Dr. Wilson's article, on the healing process, was very enlightening, I gained a wealth of information and applied that information to my life.

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Doctor Wilson: Healing is different from, and so much more than eliminating or suppressing symptoms. This is confusing because symptom removal can look like healing, while healing may not produce symptom removal for months or even years. A healed body does not have cancer. However, just getting rid of a cancer, whether by surgery or by natural methods, is not healing. It is symptom removal. Nor is 'healing a broken leg' the kind of healing I am referring to. That, too, is usually just symptom removal.” In fact, healing is a path that can be embraced. It is a process foreign to our medical system and to our culture. It is essentially a reversal of the process involved in becoming ill, and at the same time an awakening to one's true nature and the meaning of life.

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Dr. Wilson's words rang true with me. After my treatment (chest tube insertion) and I was released from the hospital to go home, I was not healed, although the healing process had begun. Truth be told, I was scarred and hurting both physically and emotionally. Healing is a process which requires much pro activity. What ever, I could do, to help aid in my healing process, I did. By that I mean eating right, exercising, and eliminating (as much as possible) stressful elements from my life. Too, I had to see and believe, that I was going to be healed, in spite of my repetitive hospitalizations.




Dr. Wilson:Certain axioms or themes are involved in the healing process:
* We are each powerful, mysterious, complex, multidimensional beings, no matter how frail and dysfunctional the body may be.
* There is an oneness of body, mind and spirit. There is also an oneness or collective consciousness shared by all beings.
* Events originate from within. We create our lives. This power is never taken away, though it may be given away temporarily.
* Healing has to do with taking full and complete responsibility for all of one's creations.
* Techniques, methods, and therapies may facilitate healing. However, ultimately, life heals or love heals, not a pill or operation.
* Healers, doctors, and therapists are facilitators only.
* Desire, allowing and surrender play critical roles in healing.
* Forgiveness of self and others are important aspects of the healing process.
* Discipline, derived from same root as 'disciple', is an important aspect of healing.


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Good stuff, Dr. Wilson. Friends, you do not always have to see it to receive it. You know, what your it is. Just believe it. For those who are interested in the healing process by Dr. Wilson, I have included, a link to his article from his website, there you can also learn about his books and Cd's.

Happy readings,
Vanessa


http://www.drlwilson.com/Articles/the%20healing%20process.htm

Friends and Lovers

The Song by Aretha Franklin Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves. Comes to mind when I think about Michelle Obama. This Princeton and Harvard grad, both fascinates and inspires me. She is beautiful not just aesthetically, but skin deep. Michelle is a wife, mother, and a working woman. Wheew! Those are some pretty heavy balls to juggle. Yet, she makes it all appear effortless and, we women all know, that those functions are in no ways easy to do. I heard confess in an interview about the help she receives from her mother in helping with her daughters. Thank God for Mothers.

I gotta confess that, I was so enthused, when Michelle initiated the dap/ pound ( or bump as mainstream America hails it) to her husband, Barack before he addressed, the crowd in Minnesota. Then, giving the thumbs up in her exit. That move endeared the Obama's to me forever. For me it showcased their bond not only as husband and wife but that of friends as well. I openly confessed that Michelle has played a key factor in my consideration for Barack. They are a couple on the rise and I don't mean for the white house, but as an example that true love does exist, especially in the African American community. I pray the best for them. Together, they are history in the making and I am glad to be a witness to it.

If you would like further info on Michelle or that of Barak visit http://www.barackobama.com/

Here is a brief summary of what I have learned about Michelle from there: Michelle was born on January 17, 1964, to Marian and Fraser Robinson on Chicago's South Side and graduated from Whitney M. Young Magnet High School in Chicago's West Loop. After high school Michelle went on to Princeton University where in 1985 she graduated with a B.A. in sociology and a minor in African American studies. After college, Michelle continued her education at Harvard Law School, where she earned her degree in 1988.

Happy readings,

Vanessa

My Time With God

What a wonderful birthday gift, I received from my cousin, Linda. This book is now dog-eared. I try to take it everywhere that I go. Did I mentioned that this book is now dog-eared from my constant readings and from its many journeys with me?

My Devotional Time With God. I don't exactly have a routine, when it comes to my devotional time with God. I tried, honestly I did...but I just can not stick to the regime. I go through phases. I have my morning phase. I have my evening phase and I have my late at night phase. I am currently in my evening phase.

This book "My Time with God" is simply delicious and I highly recommend it. It is easy to read and is very informative. 15 minutes a day! Come on...there is no excuse when it comes to our devotion to God.

Marrying praying with my daily reading has given me the strength to endure my tests and trials. When no one can see the screams from with in and I desperately need... something. When I weary with rejection and I desperately need... something. When I am hurting and confuse and I need... something. I go to the rock of my salvation. God. He is my something. My time with God is my moment to release the negatives. My time with God is indescribable . In a word it is just delicious.

"When a man's ways please the LORD, he maketh even his enemies to be at peace with him." (Proverbs 16:7)


Blessings and happy readings,
Vanessa