Joy

Tue, Nov 6, 2012

Me:
My friend who was at my place said to me this morning "Were you talking to a guy? You sounded so happy" lol.  I said no it was just my boo M hahahhaha

M:
Awwwwww! That's so funny! I mean... I am pretty awesome but ur joy is definitely from the Lord! :)

-End-

The Lie I Believe(d)

I would skate up and down my block in Brooklyn.  Not skate.  Blade.  I loved my roller blades.  I remember a camp trip to Chelsea Piers; I danced in my roller blades!  We bought my favorite pair from Toys 'R' Us -- the one down the road from Kings Plaza.  I loved my roller blades.

Now, here I was, in graduate school... at a fun event with my colleagues... and I could hardly stand.  My sister, the one who I taught to blade, was now holding me up.  She pulled me around the rink while I shrieked with bits of excitement and lots of fear.  Every time I mustered up the courage to try a solo skate, I fell... hard.  I could not keep my balance.  My core was weak.

During that time, I was fragile.  It was as if all the wounds I had endured presented splinters in my heart that were all meeting at one critical point. I was breaking apart.  Katy Perry's "Firework" became my motivational song because she sings "Do you ever feel/like a plastic bag/drifting through the wind/wanting to start again?"  That's what I felt like. I was experiencing a dearth of joy, peace, clarity, direction, guidance, and truth.  I remember days when I had to remind myself to simply take a breath. I could not see.  I especially could not see ME.

I searched for relief.  I searched for freedom.  I searched for counsel.  I had to find out what was in my weak core.  There was a lie I was believing.  It went something like this: "Elise, you're not worth the time or effort.  Elise nobody wants you.  You're a mistake." I was believing that I had to work for the affections of my family and friends; I believed that they merely tolerated me.
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I was born in a Jewish hospital.  A rabbi blesses each baby that is born there.  (My mother likes to remind me that I was the only brown baby in the nursery lol.)  The rabbi brought me to my mom and said, "God says this is a special baby."  If God calls me special then how can I be a mistake or unloved?

My core is getting stronger day by day.  It is being filled with God's truth.  I am created for this time.  I am wanted. I am loved, not just tolerated.  I can stand now.  I can fight.  WARRIOR PRINCESS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Floaters

Here's a week's worth of some of my thoughts.  Welcome to my mind LOL

Why are the police around during rush hour?  They slow everybody down... gaahhhhhhh!

Hmmmm.  Well I guess I feel comfortable driving the speed limit.  Less crazy.

If somebody on their cell phone almost crosses into my lane one more time, I am going to hunt them down and curse them out.  Yup.  No, I am going to start a public health campaign to limit cell phone use.  There are too many accidents here.  Just.too.many.

Sir, I do not care if you're driving a Bentley.  If you cut me off, I am going to catch up to you and give you the stink eye.

I made a list of preferred husband qualities.  I re-read it and it turns out I was just describing my ideal self. What does that mean???????????? Should I marry myself???????????

I miss jumping on the bed.  Well, I  guess I could try it in the morning.  No I am going to hit my head on the fan.  Must.find.way.to.jump.on.bed.

God you really do talk to me huh?

Why have I started putting all my business on a blog.  Am I crazy??

My body apparently likes to gain weight when I'm happy.  That's okay.  I'll take it!

Me and my sisters should make music videos when I come home for Christmas.

Leota is going to kill me for not making my appointment to go to the cardiologist.

I mentioned both of my parents in a Facebook post and they both liked it.  Now, how can I orchestrate them becoming friends on Facebook?  Oh no!  Am I planning a parent-trap, Jess from New Girl style???

Ugh... should I take Spanish?  No, it's too late.  No, I can do anything.  Ugh.  I hate learning.

Do I really have to do Christmas shopping?  No seriously, do I?

Must find Tootsie Rolls.

Must forgive. 

Must buy an ironing board.

Must get an oil change.

Will do all of the must things next week.

 

Diamond

The motto of my high school is "Dare to be True"; I was failing to live up to it.  I felt like a poser.  I recognized that I behaved differently around different sets of friends and I felt like a phony.  I pined to God about my lack of authenticity.  His response: "Elise, you are a diamond."  Lord, did you mean to say dime (as in real cute)?  "You are a diamond.  When my light hits you it is refracted in different directions."

I received the revelation.  Now for the interpretation.  With those words, I heard God say that my different behaviors were not a reflection of a damaged personality; rather, I behaved differently because His light inside of me was reaching my friends, coworkers, and loved ones in different ways. I am reminded of Paul’s declaration:

Though I am free and belong to no one, I have made myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible.To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all people so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings. (1 Corinthians 9:19-23 NIV)

Diamonds not only refract light, they also absorb it.  In my diamond state, I absorb His light.  It propels me to walk in peace and joy.  It propels me to pursue him.  I desperately seek my light source.  1 John 1:7 says "But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin."  Without a light source, I would be sitting in the dark.  There would be no light to refract and I would be hidden in the shadows and poverty of sin.  I brilliantly shine and relate to others by his light.

I could say more about the properties of a diamond.  I could tell you about its strength, lack of contamination, and its pressure-cooked perfection.  (If you are curious, Wikipedia has the scoop.)  Instead I will end with something I heard a conference. "There is a difference," Lisa Bevere said, "between something that is real and something that is authentic." She continued, "A cubic zirconia is real.  A diamond is authentic."

Radio On

When my mother and her siblings were young, they would visit Grandma Josephine every weekend.  And every weekend they were required to clean up.  She had a chore for each and every one of them.  To help them work a little better, she would turn the radio on; it was always tuned to a gospel station.  When Grandma Josephine would leave earshot, they would all try to turn the dial to a station playing popular music.  Unfortunately for my mom, aunts, and uncles, the "possessed radio", as my mom likes to call it, could not be tuned to any other station but the gospel one.  There was no reception, only static, when they changed the dial.  Why did Grandma Josephine's radio only play gospel?  I believe that the radio had been tuned into that station for so long that it did not know how to pick up the radio waves of any other station.  I want to be tuned into God like that radio was tuned into the gospel station.  I want people to try and turn my dial only to find that the only sound/information that comes from me is of God.  I want every other station in my life to be static if that means that God's station/position in my life is crystal clear, easily audible.

September 18, 2008
Age 21

Walking

My mother loves Oprah.  I wandered into her room and of course she was watching OWN.  Maya Angelou was on the screen.  It was her Master Class.  When she was a young girl, she was raped by her mother's boyfriend.  The rapist was sent to prison for one day and was later found kicked to death.  After the police informed her family that the man was dead, she stopped speaking, believing that her voice had killed him.  A neighbor, Mrs. Flowers, told her that she would never love poetry until she let it flow from her mouth, until she spoke.  She went into a crawlspace, recited a poem, found her voice, and hasn't stopped speaking since!  This woman can speak six languages!  

My dad told me that it took me forever to walk.  I was nearing the age of three before I finally took the plunge.  (I maintain that this was the first indication that I would be a late bloomer lol.)  My dad went on to say that I did eventually start walking, and haven't stopped moving since.  HA! 

We all know that Dr. Angelou is a teacher.  She speaks and writes wisdom.  Her poems come straight from the heart.  Her voice is loud and clear, and given her legacy, will forever be present.  Well if my childhood immobility is similar to Maya's period of muteness, what does that mean for my future?  What will my walk look like?


Dr. Angelou tells that during her six years of not speaking, her grandmother would comb her hair and say "Sister, Mama don't care what these people say, that you're an idiot, a moron because you can't talk. Mama know when you and the good Lord get ready, you gon' be a teacher.  Sister you gon' teach all over this world."  I love this!  I like to imagine that during my years of immobility God was saying to me, "Elise, I don't care what everybody else thinks about you.  They may think that you're a lazy child who does not want to walk.  Maybe they think you never will.  But you know what I know?  I know that eventually you are going to take your gifts and talents all across the globe.  You will travel to all of the cities I have placed on this Earth in order to share my message of love and hope with everyone you encounter.  Get in your starting position.  Get ready.  Stand tall and go one step at a time.  I am with you." 

:)

Journal Entry 11/12/12| About Hope

Last month I contacted an area church about joining their prophetic team.  The leaders instructed me to listen to a series by their pastor regarding the prophetic.  In  one sermon, the directive for listeners was to observe people and listen intently for God to give insight.  I went to work and listened for something for residents who live across the street from my site.  I heard "hope".  I was certain that it was just me.  Maybe my brain is fixed on President Obama or something.  It turns out that it was from the Lord after all.  In another sermon of the series, the pastor said that "a timely word of God is the cure for hopelessness... it is the fuel for hope needed to stand".

God is training  me to give timely words, prophetic words, in order to fuel hope in the community.  I have always believed that the negative health and social outcomes observed in communities across this country not only stem from systematic and institutional obstacles but also from the loss of our chutzpah. (See that, I threw in some Yiddish there.  Thank you Brooklyn!)  We have lost hope in achieving more; we have lost the sight to see ourselves beyond poverty, STD infection, and abuse. What's new is that I now understand that God intends for us to reclaim our chutzpah.  By equipping sons and daughters to encourage and comfort through prophecy, He is giving our global community permission to stand in the midst of trials in order to move forward in claiming victory. 

We yearn for that, don't we?  I understand why President Obama's 2008 campaign resonated with so many people.  We yearn for hope; our souls know that it never fails. 

That's Not My Name

(Contains explicit language)

Oath: A solemn promise, often invoking a divine witness, regarding one's future action or behavior

Elise, derived from Elizabeth, means "Oath of God".  Traditionally, when providing testimony, witnesses swear by God that they will tell the truth.  The act of swearing in is an oath. But to be God's oath... does that mean to be God's own swearing in?  I turn to part 2 of the definition, the one given above.  A solemn promise.  I still do not know what that means in terms of me.  Seriously.  I don't.  Am I the manifestation of the act of swearing by God?  Am I a promise... or will his promises to me come forth because he's sworn by his nature?  I do not know.
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I love music.  I know the words to songs that came way before I was conceived.  I know songs with some pretty explicit lyrics.  Friends are always surprised when I can sing Doo Wop and rap hip hop lyrics without missing a beat (pun intended). My parents are music lovers and they passed down that trait to me.  Recently, however, my enjoyment turned to disgust.  I heard some names that did not fit me.  I heard men telling me that I was a bitch and that my job was to lay "it" down and spread "it" open.  And I suddenly understood why parents get so undone over certain songs.  For me, it's not only that the songs spread the wrong message; the songs, and artists, threaten my identity because they are calling me by the wrong name. 


I was rapping along to some song and the word "nigga" slipped out of my month.  And I was grieved.  That name does not describe my people.  It does not describe me.  It saddens me to hear people say that we have taken ownership of a derogatory name.  So, we want to claim trash?  NO!  As a black woman, a princess, a daughter of the Most High, and most certainly a warrior, I reject bitch, nigger, whore, and every other name that contradicts the loving, empowering measures of my identity that the Father has given to me.  

Some days I imagine my run for office and I practice being interviewed by the press on my ideals.  (Don't judge me.)  I practice what I will say when they ask me about my heritage.  Here's what I have come up with - "Yes, I acknowledge my blackness and I am not ashamed.  I remember growing up in Brooklyn and being one of the few non-Carribean, non-Hispanic, Black Americans in the neighborhood and classroom.  My own cultural misunderstandings led me to believe that I did not have a culture to celebrate.  Media told me that all I could own was imprisonment, teenage pregnancy, poverty, violence, drug abuse, absentee parents, Hip Hop, oh and maybe hair.  I now know that I have license to celebrate entrepreneurship, inventions, social cohesion, intellectualism, sportsmanship, artistry, and good old fashion hard work. And while Black Americans bring those things to the table, I know that all of the cultures blended into the fabric of this country bring equally important contributions.  We will all celebrate our culturally-unique and fantastic differences together to make this country strong."

How about that?  By publishing this, I have probably ruined my chances of winning haha.  But if writing what I think means someone's mind has been changed regarding his or her identity then so be it.  
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I couple my cultural identity with my Kingdom identity.  God composed me of both not to hinder but to propel me into radical living for Christ.  My name is Elise and so far here's what I've gotten:  Elise ("Oath of God") - promise by God, bound by his own being/nature/character, to establish and accomplish all (of the abundant life) that He said he would bring forth. 


That's the name I am going to walk out. What does your name mean? 

Imagination

Excerpt from an original essay entitled "Go Fly A Kite"

Daddy, I hurt.  I was lying down on my living room floor with my eyes closed and arms straight up in the air.  In my mind, I was sitting in God’s lap.  We were chest to chest so that our hearts were near each other.  I imagined hearing his heart beat in sync with mine.  I began to whisper in his ear.  I told him that I was disappointed that my parents divorced.  I revealed my fear that I would never get married.  It seemed that no Christian man would ever take the time to get to know me, want to have fun (rollercoasters and mini-golf), and initiate righteousness in a relationship.  Sigh.  I told him that I had no idea what my next career move would be or how I would ever finish paying back my student loans.  I told him that I wanted to live free and be whole.  I told him that I loved him with my whole heart and that I would never stop chasing him.

 

He told me that I was his.  And that his thoughts towards me were those of peace, love, and prosperity.  I learned that I was a woman of joy and that my gifts included teaching and healing.  He told me that I was not lost in the crowd but that he has had his eye on me since I was in the womb.  I actually caught a glimpse of him looking down at me when I was a little girl with big hair puffs.  He told me that when I was lonely, there was a place for me in heaven to come and play.

 

Since then, I have imagined walking down the beach with Jesus, enjoying a swing in a park with God, and sitting atop the Great Sphinx of Giza with Jesus in a beach chair beside me.  My imagination led me right into fellowship with God.  (And let me tell you this, the more I use it for intimacy with the Father, the less room there is to entertain past regrets and sexual fantasy.)

Intimacy... with Him

As soon as I graduated from grad school, it happened.  Suddenly the pressure was on to get married and produce grandchildren.  I'll admit it.  I am not ready.  I like being in charge of my own time.  I like spending my money the way I, oh and Sallie Mae, want to spend it.  I like having time to volunteer and (not) learning to cook.  I love learning more about myself, and I don't feel guilty about spending time figuring me out.  I am not ready.

I am ready for the sweet intimate moments that Daddy and I share.  I intend to record our love story here.  Some days, it does not seem like we're communicating and I am not sure that he's actually interested in me; then He calls me beloved.  Other days his love and joy overtake me to the point of overflowing; thereafter, he pulls me close and lets me listen to his heartbeat.   I do not doubt his affections toward me.  They are the same for you as well.  Journey with me as I let Him into every piece of my heart.