The Marriage Dinner

Matthew 22:11-13

“Hey! It’s me, Donnie. I have something for you. Can you come over today?”

Ericka looked at her phone, contemplating whether she wanted to make time for this. Donnie had been introduced to her a few weeks ago by a friend. She didn’t think he was her type, but he persisted anyway. It was refreshing, yet a little annoying at times.

How many times can a person hear someone tell them, “I will never leave you”?

It was just something she wasn’t used to.

“I only have about an hour, then I have to go to work,” she texted back.

“That’s plenty of time,” he replied with an eager tone that came through even in text.

Ericka didn’t know why she agreed. When she arrived at Donnie’s house, her eyes nearly fell out of her head! His home was a sprawling mansion hidden behind a nine-foot wrought iron gate adorned with intricate designs of vines and birds.

She pulled up further, her bumper nearly touching the gate. As the gate slowly swung open, her eyes widened to see the massive house up close. Thoughts rushed through her mind as she took in the sights. Donnie didn’t look like he owned a house like this!

The polite voice on the intercom interrupted her internal questions. “Hello, how may I assist you?”

“Uh…” Ericka hesitated, “I was invited over by Donnie?”

“Wonderful! He’s been expecting you,” the voice replied cheerfully.

It felt like Ericka had to drive a mile just to get to the door. When she finally made it, Donnie was standing outside, his face lit up with excitement to see her.

“I hope you didn’t run into any trouble getting here,” Donnie said, helping her out of the car.

Ericka was too focused on the sights before her. There were fountains and hundreds of flowers planted around, bursting with colors so vibrant it was almost like she was seeing them for the first time.

“It was actually pretty easy to find,” she finally replied. “Who owns all of this?”

“I do,” Donnie admitted proudly. “Thank you for accepting the invitation.”

Ericka felt like she hit the jackpot! She didn’t care about how Donnie looked. If this was how he was living, she could learn to deal with him. Still focused on the exterior of the house and the garden area, Ericka didn’t even realize that Donnie was leading her to the front door. They were ten feet tall and elaborately designed. Ericka looked closely, running her fingers across the design.

“Was this handcrafted?” she asked, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings of mythical creatures intertwined with floral motifs.

“Yes, my son made it for me,” Donnie said, a note of pride in his voice.

“A son? Wait a minute. How old are you? You don’t look like you have a son old enough to do this!”

Ericka’s question hung in the air, mingling with a faint breeze that carried the scent of jasmine from the garden. Donnie chuckled, a warm, infectious sound that made Ericka’s initial apprehensions seem like a distant thought.

“I might look younger than I am,” Donnie replied with a wink. “Let’s just say I’ve been blessed.”

They stepped inside, and Ericka was immediately enveloped by the grandeur of the foyer. The ceiling soared high above, adorned with a crystal chandelier that scattered light across the polished marble floors like stars in a clear night sky. Paintings that looked centuries old graced the walls, each frame telling a story of heritage and timelessness.

Donnie noticed Ericka’s awe-struck expression and smiled. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. This place has been in my family for generations. Each piece you see has its own story.”

Ericka felt a mix of admiration and insignificance as she followed Donnie through the sprawling hallway. The air was cool and smelled faintly of old books and lemon polish. She couldn’t help but touch the surfaces as they passed—an ancient oak table here, a velvet-upholstered settee there.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect this,” Ericka confessed, her voice echoing slightly in the vast space.

Donnie paused before a large portrait of a stern-looking man in Victorian attire. “It’s not without its challenges and responsibilities. Everything you see comes with a story of struggle and triumph.”

As they approached a heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor, it creaked as he pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit room that contrasted sharply with the rest of the house’s opulence. Inside, the atmosphere was solemn, almost sacred, setting the stage for a revelation that Ericka could never have anticipated.

Donnie smiled warmly, shifting the tone to something more personal. “There is so much to tell you, but first I wanted to show you something.” He handed her a big purple box that shimmered in the sunlight, captivating Ericka’s attention. It was unlike anything she had seen before; the hues shifted with the light, mesmerizing and mysterious.

Ericka turned the box over in her hands, absorbed in its unique beauty. She didn’t notice the door opening or the older man who entered, looking like he might have been picked up from the men’s shelter north of Conway. It was only when the door closed behind him, releasing a tantalizing aroma into the air, that she glanced up.

“Oh my goodness! What is that? It smells… that smells fantastic!” Ericka exclaimed, her curiosity piqued not just by the box but now by the scent wafting through the air.

“I had some things whipped up for some guests,” Donnie explained. “We can go in and see what’s there, but I need you to open the box first.”

Ericka looked at Donnie, her expression a mix of confusion and a faint irritation at his insistence. “Wooow,” she said, her voice tinged with forced enthusiasm. “This is… different.”

“I had it made just for you,” Donnie beamed, clearly proud of his mysterious gift.

As they spoke, another person shuffled past—a woman who looked to be struggling with her own demons, her lips blistered, and eyes bloodshot. Ericka’s eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed the woman was wearing the same peculiar fabric that was in the box.

“I thought you said it was made just for me,” Ericka questioned, her tone laced with skepticism.

“It was,” Donnie insisted. “A lot of love, and suffering, went into having that available for you.”

Ericka’s gaze hardened as she scanned the area, noticing more individuals making their way to the door, each adorned in similar attire. “So why do they get one, too?” she asked, her voice carrying a sharp edge of accusation.

Donnie’s expression remained unfazed as he explained, “It’s a robe. You’ll need it to come inside.”

“Why can’t I just wear what I want?” Ericka challenged, her skepticism mounting.

“Well,” Donnie began, pausing to greet another passerby before returning his attention to Ericka. “I invited you here because I know you’re a special woman. I know that you’ve experienced a lot of hardship in your life, and I wanted to offer you a better one. With me.” He gestured broadly at the surroundings. “All that I have here would be yours. You don’t have to do anything; I already have help for that.”

Ericka couldn’t mask her skepticism. “There’s no way you’d be willing to take care of me for nothing. What’s the catch?” she asked, her instincts telling her that there was much more to this than a simple invitation.

“There is none. I just want to spend eternity with you. I love you,” Donnie declared, his eyes sincere.

“That sounds desperate. Besides, if you knew what I’ve done in my life, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere near me,” Ericka said, her arms crossed defensively. “I don’t want to wear this ugly robe anyway. Why can’t I just come in like this?”

“Well,” Donnie began, his smile gentle yet unwavering, “I have someone special I would like you to meet. Because he’s clean, I’ve given you something that will make you look like him.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than this robe to cover up what I’ve done,” Ericka grinned, half-mocking the simplicity of his solution.

Donnie smiled at her lovingly. “There is so much for you to learn, my dear.”

“I want to come in, but I’m not putting this on.”

“It’s the only way you’ll be able to come in, though.”

Ericka looked up and saw masses of people, all wearing the same robe, filing into the open door. There were people of all colors and backgrounds. Some skipped in with excitement; others were weeping so hard with joy. Ericka took it all in, her head swirling from all the people, before locking eyes with Donnie.

“Who are you for real?” she chided.

“I’m Donnie,” he laughed.

This time Ericka took a moment to calculate an appropriate question. “Is that short for something?”

“Actually, yes. It’s short for Adonai. I’ve been waiting to see you again and, this time, I want to invite you to live with me forever.”

“This is ridi—” Before Ericka could finish her sentence, she jumped as someone touched her foot. It was a woman, weeping so hard she could barely stand. The tattoo on the back of her neck was all too familiar. “Tiff?” Ericka was just hanging out with Tiffany the night before. She was shocked to see her like this. Tiffany was always scrappy, loved to fight. Ericka had never seen her like this before.

“Tiffany, get up girl! What are you doing?”

“E!” Tiffany greeted her, stumbling to her feet. “E, you have to come meet his son! I met him last night after I left you. I was riding home, and my brakes went out. I couldn’t stop. All I could do was cry, ‘Jesus, if you save me, I promise I’ll follow you.’”

“What?” Ericka held up her friend, “What happened?”

“I met him, E. All I know is two tires went flat and I was able to stop. I jumped out of the car and fell to my knees. Then he showed up. E, he saved my life. I know I’ve been doing wrong and I don’t deserve him, but I felt a love that I’ve never felt. You have to meet him!”

Tiffany pushed away from Ericka and ran the rest of the way until she disappeared behind the doors.

Adonai stood by with a soft smile on his face. “Ericka, I will never force you to come this way. It would have to be your decision.”

Ericka looked at the door, trying to see if she could spot Tiffany, but it was no use. There were too many people flooding in. She took in a deep breath and pushed the box into Adonai’s hands. It seemed like she stared at him for eternity. Clenching her jaw, Ericka took off the top and put on the robe.

Adonai smiled. “So much for you to learn. Good thing we have the time now.”

Matthew 22:11-14

This Image in My Mind

Theres an image that replays in my mind

It’s a woman

Secretly holding onto a dream that one day, he will be there

That her smile won’t have a hint of “I know my day will come”.

Don’t get me wrong, she’s grateful but slowly losing fragments of hope

She’s out somewhere

Maybe a store.

Theres a guy she doesnt see

He’s sitting with friends.

He sees her.

He’s wrestling with this thought to give her a hug.

Just one.

They have never met

But he feels strongly about it

His friends are talking but he’s not listening.

He’s studying to find an opportunity.

It happens.

She drops something

An accident. No big deal

But it may have been the only straw she had

He gets up and walks over to her

She catches his eyes

Looking for relief behind swelling waters

Slowly, he embraces her

He waits.

She doesnt pull away.

With an exhale, he whispers,”It’s going to be ok.”

Squeezing her tighter gave her permission

She inhaled deeply, grabbing his waist

Before she could fight it, the levy broke

He gently rested his chin on her temple

Every voice ceased

It was just the sound of her breath

Trembling on the exhale, fighting to steady on the way in

Again, softly, he said, “It’s going to be ok”

She believed him

Grabbing for a lifeline on his shirt

Letting him gently rub her back

All she could think was how much she appreciated this stranger.

And that she didn’t want to let him go

4 Ways Movement Saved My Life

I’ve been away for a while. I’m sorry.

I was in between passion and providing. Having to provide won over for a bit. Trying to merge passion and income has been tough for me but I’ve finally reached a place where I have nothing left but to try this out. For real this time.

It didn’t dawn on me how much I needed to move. It kept me on track. It kept me optimistic.

The moment I stopped moving, the more the weight of life really started to settle on me.

But thank God I got up and exercised!

I figure I would share four ways that movement saved my life.

Goal Setting.

It may not sound like much but it’s amazing how your day, week, month, or year can be shaped when you sit down and write out your goals.

The funny thing? I had written out goals. I generally write down my goals for the year, but that was it. I left them collecting dust on my nightstand. I never revisted the goals I had written and therefore lost my focus. It has bee easy for me to do that trying to raise a boy. I thought I was super mom at one point. But I was failing miserably because I had lost sight of my goal!

I was consumed by my current circumstances that I didn’t allow myself to dream again. Have you ever done that?

Things just wasn’t fun anymore. I was losing a grasp on what was important. All because I didn’t have something to look forward to.

When I finally sat down after being unhappy with being 50lbs over weight, I set a goal. I wanted to start by losing 5lbs and see how I felt from there. I lost the 5lbs but I knew I had to go further.

2. Weight Bearing.

I was used to taking the easy way out of things. I was hypersensitive as a child so a bit of that carried over into adulthood. Anytime I felt challenged, I cried. I felt that it was a personal attack. I was a light weight, if you will, on dealing with life and all that came with it.

After having my son, I knew it wasn’t about me. It couldn’t be. Motherhood was heavy! It still is sometimes, but I had to carry the weight of it.

Sometimes carrying our own weight is hard enough. That’s before we even take on anyone else’s. When I learned what I could handle, it helped me master that.

After losing 5lbs, I knew I could do 10. Gradually, I started increasing repetitions or the physical weight that I was lifting.

I had a slip up because I was trying to lift more than I could carry. I was going too soon too fast. But eventually I caught my stride. It brings me to my next point.

3. Progression.

Again, I had to master carrying the weight that was already in front of me. It wasn’t a challenge any more. I had finally reached a point where I knew I could do more.

The same was true for motherhood. That is quite an adjustment for any woman to go through. I don’t know if it was the environment or just me, but I was trying to rush back into the ‘normal’ things. But anything new comes with the need for a new normal.

Lifting 5lbs became easy. Not long after, 10lbs became easy, too. But I gave myself grace and allowed myself to adjust to the changes.

One reason I was feeling stuck is because I was running away from a challenge. A challenge is the stairway to a new level. Often times we think of it as a way to expose a weakness.

It’s not. Take it one step at a time, but keep moving forward.

Ok. Last point.

4. Consistency.

One way to really frustrate yourself is to be inconsistent, but expect the results that only consistency can bring. That was me for a while. If anything, I was consistently inconsistent. Remember, I did admit to writing out goals and not looking at them again! I also admitted to crying at the sight of any thing seemingly challenging.

Choosing to show up once in a while is not going to get you anywhere. Just like this blog, for instance. I enjoy writing, but I wasn’t writing.

This was probably the biggest lesson I learned.

Getting up and moving helped me realize this. With consistency, I lost 50lbs. Even today, I’ve kept it off and I’m blessed to help other women do the same.

There is power in movement. It not just about losing weight but it can help every area of your life. Maybe you need to move on an idea. A t-shirt line. A business venture. Maybe you’re feeling heavy because you’re going in a circle with no goal.

Whatever you’re dealing with, I know that these four things can help you move forward because it helped me. It’s more than just fitness for me.

I have a 21 Day Challenge coming up in October and I’d love to see you in it! More details will come, but I wanted to give you my very first e-book for FREE. I thought it was a flop but a lot of people have found it useful. Click the link to get yours! https://bit.ly/3rbgdFC

Come back for more about wellness and life!

Love ya!

Crystal

My son called me out!

All I could do was smile and shake my head. It was something I saw coming for a while, I just didn’t expect TODAY to be the day.

Like…literally. This just happened two hours ago. [Note: It is now a week ago since I forgot to post this]

The reason why I am writing about it two hours later is because I thought I was just a personal tap on the hand and I could write it in my journal. But the more I wrote it down, the more God revealed that this is something someone else needs to hear.

So here we go…

I’m a single parent. Have been for a while. Now I had to say that, not to loathe about the fact that I have been single now for nine years, eight months, three weeks, six days and counting. No. That’s not it at all (blank stare), but it’s so you can have a little background 🙂

His dad had just arrived to pick him up for a few hours and I had just opened the door. As I was instructing my son on some last minute chores, he spoke very casually.

“Hey Mom, I’ve noticed something about you. Whenever my dad comes to get me, or you see him or something, you get really serious. Like you stop smiling.”

Well…in the moment I stopped smiling. I felt caught.

My child, who can walk by all his toys on the floor and professionally ignore the dishes in the sink, noticed something I wasn’t fully aware that I do?? Ok.

Since his dad was at the door, I told him we’d pick the conversation back up at a different time. He left and I thought that was the end of it. But it wasn’t. It started to bother me.

Now I had questions and I knew I had to dig for answers. So here’s what I got:

First of all, and most important, I don’t want my ex.

It’s more about me missing my kid. Yes, I am that mom so get over it. As much as I know I need a break sometimes, I do miss my Beloved when he’s away. Deep down, there’s a comparison thing happening but there is not comparison between a mother and father. They are both necessary and unique.

Second thing: It’s a reminder for me to forgive.

It tears a piece of my heart when I hear my son express how he misses his dad because I know this is not the way God intended things to be. Whether it’s because of a divorce or in my case, two unmarried people having a child, it was never God’s intention for children to be raised by a single parent or in a split household.
Sometimes guilt tries to creep in. Other days tears are my only expression. Either way, I have to trust God like never before. I have to choose grace and love when accusations and disagreements try to surface. As a believer, it is my responsibility to walk as God is directing me regardless of where the other parent is in his walk to God. As much as I can get upset about certain things, there was a time when I wasn’t following God or care to follow Him. It’s not my place to sit as judge but to stand as an equal receiver of grace and love.

Lastly, it let’s me see fatherhood up close.

Unfortunately, we live in a society where a lot of adults don’t have a good picture of fatherhood because of a distant or absent parent. Mines was the latter. I had men in my life since I was a little girl, but none who poured into me as a father would. I walked around with hurts that weren’t dealt with because I blamed my absent dad and the men in my life for not giving me what I thought I needed. Truth is, they were dealing with their own voids and, in the case of my dad, he wasn’t absent by choice but manipulation and force.

I get to see what a ‘dad’ does with a kid. Of course all dads are different and express in their unique ways but seeing it up close is a different experience for me.

It reminds me of my mother standing in the delivery room with me when I was giving birth to my Beloved. She stood at the end of the table, where my left were spread wide, and watched my son come down the birthing canal. She didn’t flinch. She was in complete awe. It was something she hadn’t experienced in her two pregnancies because she had c-sections.

As irritated as I was (mainly because I was in pain and on drugs), I let her have her moment.

Most people go through life not even considering where someone else is coming from. They don’t give it a second thought. It’s not a matter of selfishness as much as it is a matter of ignorance.

People just don’t know. Especially now-a-days with a whole pandemic happening and different mandates keeping people away from one another.

There are so many conversations that need to be had. If we take the time to be open hearted and give a listening ear, so much healing can take place in our families and communities. Forgiveness is key, though.

Be kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you
Ephesians 4:32

This was a more personal blog today, but I pray that healing takes place in your heart. If you know someone who is in need of this, please share. I really enjoy reading the testimonies and words of encouragement.

Love you,

Crystal

Don’t watch the cracks

Photo by Nataliya Vaitkevich on Pexels.com

There was this game I used to play as a little girl. It was one that caused great belly laughs and some arguments. Mostly among the ‘common’ thinkers.

It was called “Step On A Crack and Break Your Mama’s Back.”

To this day, I take pride in the advantage that having big eyes would give me…and that my dear mother was not victim to the incessant taunts of tiny and teening tyrants!

Now that I’m a parent, I remind my son, who often walks like he has two left feet and wears blinders that are upside down, that as his primary provider and caregiver that he must keep the tradition of expertly avoiding those wretched crevasses! Yet I cringe at every step he takes, knowing that, if this were just decades before, I would be considered the sister of Mr. Glass.

But I digress.

As an adult, I look at those fissures a lot differently.

Now that I think about it, the majority of my life consisted of me focusing too long on what was broken or unavailable. I zeroed in on my missteps, mishaps, and mistakes. Looking at the ‘cracks’ caused so many delays and allowed fear to grow in places there weren’t supposed to.

So I stopped.

I stopped walking with my head down and you wouldn’t believe what I saw!

I saw that steps I did walk. I saw the happenings in my life that were pretty great, even when they were done in apprehension.

I saw the progress I made.

Was I where I wanted to be? Better yet: Am I where I want to be? Not by a long shot. But I’m not where I used to be.

Even sharing my thoughts on this platform, on a consistent basis is sometimes hard because I care…a lot! I know what it costs to lead people. I care about what I say and how it can make people feel. That was me looking at the cracks and that’s not an easy thing to say.

It’s ok to care about people (and I care a great deal!) but I also understand that I will say things some people won’t agree with. I’m good with that now!!

Now I walk with my head up. I understand that I will trip up sometimes, but it shouldn’t stop me. I understand that I will bump into some things, but I’ll have better clarity. I understand that I may step on toes or get things wrong, but it’s all part of the process of progress.

So to you I say this:

Don’t focus on the cracks. A crack may take up only 5% of a sidewalk square, but there’s still 95% that you can focus on. When you focus on your mistakes, all you’ll see is mistakes. Shift your focus. Acknowledge the mistake while looking for opportunities to improve.

It may take five seconds to make a mistake but there are still 86,395 seconds left in the day.

Look at what’s ahead and what’s available to you and make things better.

You are a world changer!

Love ya!

Crys

Peace Be Still

I can’t tell you the level of conviction I’ve received in my spirit for NOT writing…but let’s digress for a second.

I was sitting on my bed, reading over the draft of an e-book I’d like to put out about…healthy stuff. I released one last year for Cyber Monday and and I wanted to have more information available to people.

So anyway, I was taking a break and began listening to a short video that I’ve actually heard a few times now. I mean, I made time to hear this message. I took detailed notes about what God was trying to say to me at that time.

I paused the video and replayed what was said, then continue on again. The video is only about 15 minutes long, but it took me nearly ninety minutes to get through it; that’s how detailed my notes were.

But as I’m putting my computer down a moment ago, listening to this message AGAIN, I hear something I hadn’t heard the last time I played this message.

I…MISSED SOMETHING??!!

As the waves of a crisis began to swell in my mind, I had to shake the thoughts away or I’d miss the download that was about to occur.

I needed to hear this particular point at the specific time I heard it. Here’s what I heard:

If Jesus said, ‘Peace be still’ then that means peace was moving.
Pastor Tony Evans

[Disclaimer: Now I KNOW the Bible scholars will say that Jesus was telling the sea to be at peace but it still fits]

Before I could throw my phone across the room, I had thoughts flooding in from every which way but it was two I settled on.

(Spoiler alert: The second thought cancels out the first}

1. So if peace chucked a deuce, it’s because it wasn’t trying to stay around anxiety and fear.

If you go back a few scriptures, this is the story of a storm tossing the boat Jesus slept on while His disciples panicked.

Jesus is the Prince of Peace, which means He rules over it. If light and dark can’t be in the same space, then neither can peace and fear, or peace and anxiety…or peace and frustration, or peace and jealousy. You get the point. So Jesus dipped.

Buuuuuuut…God said He would never leave us nor forsake us (Hebrews 13:5) and Jesus gave us HIs peace!! (John 14:27). God is not the type to run from a battle anyway and Jesus didn’t physically leave the boat…so I had to throw out that whole thing.

But then came the second and most sobering thought.

2. So if peace was moved, it’s because WE(I) moved it.

I instantly thought of my mom’s cat. My parents have a little light that they shine when they are helping the little feline stay active. They wiggle the light on the floor to get the cat’s attention before jerking the light a few feet to the right. As they move the light, Mora is bouncing around the floor to try to get it.

If our peace is not rested on Christ, we have to put it somewhere, right?

Maybe we put ‘peace’ in certain groups of people, (Black or white. Dems or Reps).

Maybe we put ‘peace’ in more money, a bigger house, a new car, another relationship even when we aren’t over the last. There are so many places we can ‘put peace’ but in the end things don’t really work out or, if they do, there’s always a feeling that something’s missing.

Jesus was very specific in the type of peace He gave. Let’s look at John 14: 29:

Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. (Emphasis added)

So there’s FALSE Peace and REAL Peace.

More money won’t bring you peace. More people won’t bring you peace. Another relationship won’t bring you peace.

True peace is contingent on it’s source. In order for peace to be sustained it must rest on a firm foundation. One that’s been tested under the most extreme circumstances and still maintain it’s integrity. One that can endure to the end, no matter how long it takes.

Christ has proven to be the only foundation suitable enough for peace to rest and that’s the place God wants us to rest in. For those who don’t know, the Bible is a compilation of writings by different authors that point to one person: JESUS! God’s whole mission was to get us back in right standing with Him and the only way to do that was to sacrifice His perfect Son.

We have to remember Christ in all things. When we try to find peace in other things, it brings trouble in all things because it’s not the peace Jesus gave to us.

I pray that you let go of the counterfeit peace, the one that fades, and hold tight to the Prince of Peace, the One who’s everlasting!

Love you,

Crystal

“NOW” is Better

As I am getting over a short cold, a thought crossed my mind last night and it followed me into today. I drank my protein shake, drank some water, had some time to reflect and there it was. That thought. It was stalking me. I guess that’s a good indicator to write it out. So here we are.

Welcome!!

The statement that came to mind was this:

“Now is just going to keep coming until you do it.”

Take a moment, like I did, and think about that. For the sake of time, let’s take 10 seconds and see how many times you can snap your fingers.

Every snap represents NOW.

Did you see how many times NOW came and went? It was a lot in just 10 seconds. What happens when we put it off until tomorrow? Momentum is lost.

See, I was never an impulsive person. I like to calculate things out. Measure two or three times before I cut once. Slowly. But some things need to be acted upon immediately. Some things need to be started when you think about it. That first step is important.

Now is a gift that we often overlook when we’re focused on what isn’t or what someone else has. We have to get used to taking immediate action. It could be something really easy, like flushing out the idea in writing or more complex like getting a team together.

When I wrote my first e-book, I had already written out some of the concepts I wanted to share and did nothing with it. It wasn’t until I got pissed off that I actually sat down, wrote it, structured it, designed it, and put it out there. I’m still working out getting used to advertising that it’s available, but it’s done.

Now is just going to keep coming until you do it, so do it now.

How many times have we put things off for later instead of just taking some time and doing it now? If you’re like me, it’s way more often than you’d like. But that can change right now.

Let’s stop accepting failure for ourselves. Let’s stop making excuses. Let’s make the time to finish the project. You never know who it will reach or who’s life will be transformed by it.

The gift you possess is not yours. You just possess it. It’s meant to be shared with others.

Tomorrow is too many NOWs from now.

Now is better.

love you.

Crys

A Father’s Love (Eph. 1:5)

It was bright out.

The rays of light beamed through the paned window as the Father sat on its sill. He turned His head and smiled, gazing out at all that is. He listened to the laughter that echoed its way into the room. It brought His heart so much joy to hear His children enjoying themselves. He took pride in the work of His hands.

His hands. Smooth like the silk of a rose petal yet strong enough to withstand the weight of the world. His gentle hands ready to give everything He owned to anyone willing to hold them.

“Abba?” a soft voice interrupted His thoughts. “Are you ok?”

He turned with a warm smile and said, “All is well.”

“Well, why do I have to leave You?” they asked, reticence in their tone.

His inhale was long enough to call in the deepest wave and His exhale calm and steady, just like the words that followed.

“Come, My child, I have a gift for you.” The young heart beamed with joy at the show of the Father’s love. “This gift I give to you. It will help you navigate your way until You come back to me.”

“But I don’t want to leave you now.”

“I know, My child. My love for you is so great that I’ll make sure you hear about Me. I’ll be with you always. You’ll see parts of Me, but you won’t see all of Me unless you choose to come back home.”

“Abba, why wouldn’t I choose to come home? You’re a good Father,” they leaped, “Better than any father anywhere!”

He smiled at the innocence in the question. “Come, My child,” He beckoned, inviting the young spirit into His embrace.

“The place I am about to send you is beautiful,” He smiled. “It’s full of hidden treasures and experiences like no other. You’ll even be able to see Me in a different way.”

“Hidden treasures? That sounds fun and all, but why can’t I just stay here with You?”

With an unimaginable gentleness, the Father laid His hand on His little one’s chest.

“I want to bless you to be a blessing to others, to show them just how special they are and how much they mean to Me. Some have lost their way, but I want to use you to help them find it.”

The little one sighed, letting His words penetrate their being before finally asking, “Will there be others like me?”

The Father anointed their head with a kiss, “Absolutely! You’ll know them when you see them.”

They both smiled at one another.

“Ok,” the little one stood, chest forward and legs strong, “I think I’m ready.”

The Father smiled. “I know you are.”

A House is NOT a Home

So let’s address something about race, but first…

I love Luther Vandross songs.

I had aunts and uncles that lived in the house when I was younger so I had the opportunity to get a taste of a lot of different styles of music. Everything from Rock to R&B, to Jazz, Classical, Country and Heavy Metal. I don’t listen to Heavy Metal much anymore…lol.

But the mainstay was usually Jazz and R&B. Luther and Stevie, among a few others, generally stand out.

Anyways…

I was actually reading 2 Corinthians 5:1 because God likes to minister to me through body references. (Because I’m a Wellness Coach and teach people about their bodies)

It reads “For we know that if the earthly tent [our physical body] which is our house is torn down [through death], we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.” (AMP)

While reading this, I felt a bit of sadness come over me and a thought crossed my mind…”They are fighting because the house looks different.”

Ok, let’s put this in perspective now.

I have a preference for how I want my dream house to look. It’s a six bedroom with four bathrooms, and one half bath. There’s a fully furnished basement, a deck out back with more land that I truly know what to do with and a basketball court somewhere on the side. If I find two houses, built exactly the way I dreamed, it would just come down to me making a decision about which one to live in.

A brown brick house is not any different from a white brick house. They are both houses. Build for the same purpose: to shelter, protect, allow for gatherings, to be filled with laughter and other things you can think of.

There is no need to fight over one of the other.

I’m not surprised that ‘race’ is still an issue today because it was an issue in Bible times, but I believe that God is trying His hardest to get people to understand that our bodies are just houses. Filled with a spirit and soul. But simply just a house.

A house is just a structure. Everyone has bones and muscles and ligaments, blood vessels, arteries, a heart, etc. It’s just the structure. But it’s a structure designed to hold the very essence that is the image of God.

I can substitute a few words from Luther’s song and say This House is Not our Home.

God has prepared a house for us to live in once this ‘earthy’ house has been too bruised by the high winds and storms that comes with life. With the current house (body) we live in, we are to invite and share the love of Christ with others. We are to gather together in peace and joy and bring others in to, first, find shelter, but then help them understand who they truly are.

This is just a snippet of the thoughts I had about this subject, but please understand the color of the house doesn’t change the purpose for which it was built.

And we all have a purpose.

My prayer is that you choose to be kind and seek out truth, even if it goes against longstanding beliefs.

I love you with the love of Christ.

Crystal

Two Things…

I guess I should actually use this more often then I have been. Anyways…

Two things have stopped my progress this year:

Complacency
Feeling unworthy

I grew up in a household that did a lot of comparing and never really celebrated the unique qualities that make a person. After a while, I just learned to create a little bubble of security and settle there. As much as this year has taken from so many people, that bit of understanding was something that I gained.

I can talk about how both of those things play so well together, but I wasn’t trying to make this particular post super long. What I will say is that choosing to intentionally be of service to others has allowed me to discover a little more of who I am…and I’m ok with that.

Can I be weird sometimes? Yup. I mean, I poke my little sister in the boob to show affection!

That was just the first example to come to mind so I’ll digress.

Whether I choose to be unusual, emotional, quiet, chatty, or stoic I NOW understand that God loves all of that.

So as I quickly write out my thoughts at 1:38a EST on December 31, 2020, I am making a decision to live. Like…really live.

Like doing whatever ‘it’ is, even if I’m doing ‘it’ afraid.

But knowing how loved I am in the process.

Dear friend,

God loves everything about you and those things you don’t like about yourself didn’t change how Jesus felt about you when He took your sins. He saw you right where you are -right now- and He loves you ever more 🙂

Crystal