Something About Boaz

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It’s a good thing Boaz didn’t look at how much money Ruth could bring to the table. When he saw her getting the scraps and found out her story, instead of judging her, he saw that what she could bring to the table was priceless. Loyalty exceeding death, beyond bloodlines, doing what she had to do, commitment and the ability to love and labor for those she loved. He would have missed out. #SomeThingAboutBoaz

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Sunday Morning Coffee Musing: Big Spender, Small Giver

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Hey! Hey! Big Spender! Trips, vacations after vacations, casinos, shopping, expensive hair do’s, tailor and custom made, video games, gadgets and high tech devices, fast food and fancy restaurants. Tithes and Offerings…zero to five bucks. Charity? You “ain’t” got it.

Where your treasure is, there will be your heart also. Obviously.

~Nikki

Sunday Morning Coffee Musing: The Good Daughter

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Growing up both of my parents were pretty healthy parents. I remember an occasional flu or a minor surgery. I can’t say I know what it is like to have to “deal” with an ill parent at a young age. I don’t know for sure how much it affects the child later on in life but, I am certain it makes a world of difference what the illness is and how the parent themselves handles the illness or disease. If the parent is any parent at all, they naturally carry a bit of guilt for being sick.

My daughter is 16 and it was seven years ago when Rheumatoid Arthritis Disease came out of remission and imploded into our lives. She was 9. I pushed on five years after that working, being a mom (because well you can’t stop doing that) and my daughter has always been the most caring and concerned child through this ordeal. And I have tried my best to make sure the unpredictability of RA doesn’t take a toll on her childhood as much as it takes a toll on my body and life.

When RA first resurfaced, we didn’t know what it was. I remember waking up one morning with the Holy Telit across the foot of my bed laid there by my daughter. I remember when I had to have surgery twice, she was ready to do her part. Through my crappy attitude at times and unbearable mood swings, she has learned to either let me know or just stay out the way. I have often, come back to apologize and try to make sure it doesn’t happen too often because I don’t believe you can use your pain as an excuse to be mean to others! But, it does happen unintentionally sometimes. You have to be the type of person that is reflective of self and responsible for your behavior. That takes deep commitment to being the best you, you can be and a whole lot of Jesus, God, Holy Spirit, Creator, etc in my case.

Yesterday, she took care of her mother. It was almost like she was prepared because she knew I had a class where I would have to use my hands and sit for some time. I didn’t ask her to do anything. She just stepped right in. I have to say, I have been blessed with a good daughter. I hope I am being the good mom. I hope I have been the good mom before RA came into our lives.

~Nikki

Sunday Morning Coffee Musing: Dealing with Adults that Play the Victim

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It’s a heavy topic, but it’s been on my mind for several weeks. There are a few reasons adults play the victim role such as: it gets them attention, it gets someone to feel sorry for them, it allows them to manipulate the situations and feel in control. Somewhere along the way, perhaps in childhood or with someone in their life, they found this role comfortable and acceptable. They are especially clever at using this role to create a situation, blame someone else, never say they are sorry, and then get people to be “on their side.” It’s a victory for them.

The way I deal with adults like this is the same way I deal with a child. I don’t give in to their tactics and I point out where they are wrong with logic and if necessary, scripture. Sometimes no response is the best response and to carry on with your life. Really, if you have someone in your group, crew, circle, church that is a “master” at playing the victim they need the Master to makeover  them over. They need to master their feelings. People who play the victim want you to be responsible for their feelings. They need to be responsible for their feelings!

Why with love? These people are wounded and they have become accustomed to a false sense of power. Playing the role of the victim for your entire life, or whenever it is necessary is a weak position that renders you no real power. Real power comes from:

  • accepting when you are wrong
  • healing the wounds of the past
  • dealing with your feelings maturely
  • asking for forgiveness for your lies and games
  • not needing attention from negativity or period to feel important, to validate your opinion or your feelings
  • accepting that things do not have to go your way
  • living from a position of honesty and truth is power

~Nikki

Pretty Little Daggers

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I’ve seen the power of a pretty face and body work magic on men. I’ve been skipped over, looked over, pushed out of the way to get to the prettier girl. I’ve been not spoken to standing next to the prettier friend. I’ve been in mid sentence and a man sees a hotter option, a bigger butt (in my community), a smaller waist, longer or straighter hair, and rushed to end our good convo to get to what his eyes are attracted to. I’ve had men get my number and constantly ask me about my friend. Let me be real and raw, weak and emotional in the eyes of others and un-christian like for many…but that shit used to hurt and every now and then those pretty little daggers grazes my self esteem. Either being out right told you’re not cute, you’re cute, you’re “alright”, if only you had a bigger ass, did it’s wear and tear on how I viewed myself and how I allowed the misuse of my heart, body and emotions. Side Note: If you have this super self esteem and can’t relate then this article is not for you and you’re “I never felt that way” is not welcomed here.

Well, Nikki, what did you do? It’s a long story, but basically after a series of bad relationships, mistreatment, emotional and mental abuse, via the Holy Spirit and God, books, positive women, self will, I slowly built my self esteem. Last year, I excavated my authentic self and boy did that take my self confidence to another level. Look, I just stopped by to tell you that you really do have other things to do than to be weighed down by if you are pretty enough or pretty at all. Like, who gives a damn. Are you dressing your best, are you doing the best you can with your hair (permed, weaved, or natural), are you a good woman, are you a positive being, are you going after your dreams, visions, goals? Are you building others up, clapping for their success? Are you not letting a man mistreat you and take you “down through there” (southern for drag you down a very bad road filled with heartbreaks aches and turmoil)? Are you choosing life over death? Are you a great mom, friend, sister, auntie, co worker, etc? You got “stuff” to do.

God made me perfect. God made me beautiful in every way. God made me beautiful inspite of.  God also made me strong. God also gave me an assignment. I had a friend who was extremely beautiful. She said to me one day when I asked her why did you sit by me in class? She said “Why not?” This was college. I replied, “I thought maybe you would want to huddle up with the prettier girls.” She laughed. “I thought you were smart and I am smart so I wanted to be around the smarter girl. The one that was asking questions and writing down notes because that is what I do. Pretty girls that are stuck on their beauty can be ruthless. It’s not all that it’s cracked up to be being amazingly beautiful.” Later I learned about her being in a relationship with this guy. She talked about how bad he treated her. She said, it doesn’t matter how fine I am, men still cheat. When you are in that group of fine girls who only care about looks, it’s all about competition. Then you have to deal with women thinking you want their man. I’m only in my 20’s and I am just like every real woman. I want to be seen for my heart, my mind, and not my body. You’re prettier than any of those women in that group in class. I saw how they flocked to me and I was like…nah…I’m just gonna come to school and go home.”

When a man is looking at my boobs and not at my face, I understand. When he talks about my body parts more than he talks about my brain, my geniusness, my dreams and goals, the current state of America, or about getting out and enjoying life, etc…it’s an automatic turn off for me. So, as the pretty little daggers sometimes hit, mostly miss these days…I am reminded…I’ve got so much more to do than to be weighed down by pretty or beautiful. My heart is fiery. My brain is wicked.

~Nikki

 

Hope

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Hope anchors the soul of the anxious and the depressed. -Nicole Jackson

Sunday Morning Coffee Musing: Jesus Walks

 

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Looking through the lenses of a pastor’s child, you see the ends and outs of ministry. As a child I remember going, sometimes being dragged here, there and everywhere with my parents and the church. It was like a vagabond experience when I was young, you know, wherever I laid my head on a pew was my pillow for that service! We were visiting different churches, he was doing revivals, in and out of town, there were evening programs, there were conventions and congresses to attend. I remember it and I grew to understand it. I grew to respect it. I grew to enjoy many of these things as I started to participate and comprehend these things.

As I see some in ministry, even the ministry of helps, running themselves raggedy in the name of Jesus, I see worn out human beings running on Jesus Juice and Holy Ghost Caffeine. Some are stretched and stressed. Some are broken. Some can’t be still because to be still means you are not doing anything and well, that’s sort of kind of the point. Some, when they are still, there is no “peace” in their peace be still.  Their minds are like a broken wind up toy…still going. And some can’t be still because they are trying to prove themselves worthy and move on up the ladder of ministry. They can’t say no to “whatever” others in ministry ask them to do and they certainly can’t say no their leaders, because well, they may lose their position or it’s like saying no to God himself! (dangerous territory). Oh the guilt and shame of being…tired. The shame of growing old and saying: “Here, let someone younger take the wheel” before the wheels fall off. The reluctance of some leaders to designate roles to their disciples. I don’t think Jesus set the table, prepared the food, washed dishes, made the campfire, pitched the tent, etc. just because he could if he wanted to. I mean what was the point of having a crew if you were going to do all the work. And could you imagine one of them telling Jesus “I have been cooking every night. I am tired. Get Peter to do it.” No, you can’t. I can. It probably would have been me. I don’t think I would have been fired either. I think Jesus would have understood.

Side note: I think Jesus was the kind of leader that could read his disciples. I think a good leader would never abuse the willingness of his staff to serve.

Jesus walks. His steps were ordered. I don’t read of him frantic about everywhere he went. It’s almost as if his directions were calculated, orchestrated, and obligated. I do believe he also had some leadway as to where he went and wanted to go. Why? Because I don’t believe God is into micromanaging us.  And even in all of that, he rested and went on a sabbatical. He went to sleep on a ship. We think he stayed up the entire time he was here on the planet. We think he did those things we read back to back to back to back…one chapter after the other.  There was time and space in between those things.

Jesus walks.

~Nikki