A Knock? A Prank? A What?

...I think the knock was a prank.  Or maybe not.  Either way, I will wait. 
((See yesterday's entry to undertand))

I was discussing with a friend today that if you are prayerful and discerning you can not only hear what people ((ok male prospects)) are saying to you, but know what they mean.  All we have to do is listen really closely.  Listen more than we talk and we will hear what they are saying, or not saying. 

As single women, it is important that we listen for the voice of the Spirit in the journey toward being partnered.  Drown out the voice of your flesh when it insists to be heard and lean in to hear the gentle voice of the Spirit who chooses never to raise her/his voice.

Today, I can laugh at the inconsistencies of the choices I am presented, while still rejoicing in knowing that G-d's got me in all of this. 

I choose not to be anxious and relax and enjoy the process of personal transformation, spiritual preperation and the liberty that comes with solitude.

Today, I believe in full faith that my man is coming. 

I have not been able to say that for some time; but I dare to believe again, hope again and know again.  I choose to wait, faithfully. Patiently.  Maybe it was a prank, maybe not.  But it is what it is.  Time will tell if what I experienced was a "knock" or a prank.

Nonetheless, today is a great day.  No man called to make me feel good.  No email arrived to give me hope.  No text appeared flirting to confirm interest.  Just me and my choice to believe that my man is coming!


Hope you are having a great day. I am!

Toodles, Godiva

The Pursuit of Happiness

A few years back I watched the movie The Pursuit of Happyness with Will Smith and his son Jaden (who debuted on the large screen with this award winning film).  It was a moving story the chronicled the life of Chris Gardner, a single dad trying to make a way for his family.  Chris was a man who found great joy in being a good father to his son, a gift never given to him by his own dad.  Yet, despite this joy, happiness had evaded him.  Having hit rock bottom with a business venture gone bad, Gardner begins a relentless pursuit of his own happiness.

As a Christian, it is not merely some religious platitude that “the joy of the Lord is my strength;” it is fact.  There is nothing like knowing G-d for yourself.  It provides a joy that cannot me quantified or qualified. That is because Joy, is pure, essential and is indivisible.  It is Joy. Complete. Satisfying. Strength-Giving.

My relationship with G-d is what makes life livable during the difficult times.  Obviously, knowing G-d is phenomenal when things are going well, but it is in the time of trouble that I am able to draw needed strength from within the embrace of G-d’s love.  My relationship with G-d through Christ keeps me grounded and from going totally over a cliff in troubling times.  It is what gives me courage to believe, despite facts to seem to deny the fulfillment of my hopes and dreams.  But there is a difference between joy and happiness.  Joy comes from within and can exist even when the details of life do not make you “happy.”  I am so glad I have joy!  But during this season of my life I am pursing happiness. 

My therapist gave me an ultimatum this summer that I wrestled with.  He told me if I wanted to be in a relationship (of course one that leads to marriage was the implication-- I need a husband, not a boyfriend or boo) do something about it.  I was a bit taken aback by this challenge.  I was like dude, if it depended on me, trust I would have been married a long time ago and would be raising my kids with my loving husband.  But yet there it was, a huge pink elephant, he had paced in the corner of the room with his challenge whispering to me…pursue your happiness.

He argued that if my very-life depended on my finding a mate, I would find one.  He went on to insist that I could do so in as little as 6 months.  Really?! I protested, “it is by no means that simple, especially for women.”  But I must admit it made me wonder what role do we play in the pursuit of our own happiness?

Doc was right; we know how to go after everything else we want.  Why not here?  He wasn’t suggesting that I go searching, as much as I do what I could to make my dreams come true.  No time at the moment to discuss my theological musings about what it means to be “found,” but suffice to say, I opened myself up to the idea of the pursuit. 

So in July I decided to experiment with 3 months of on-line dating and see where that led me.  Look for a future entry “tales from the crypt – dating in 2011.”  I wanted to allow myself greater exposure to men.  I am not the kind of girl that will chase a brother, but increasing my exposure seemed to be a reasonable step toward the challenge to pursue my happiness.

My pursuit has also caused me to do continual introspection as respects to how I relate to men.  How open I am and how vulnerable do I allow myself to be?  I am undeniably “all girl,” but often shield “my girl” because of the roles I have held professionally.  Corporate America had made me a bit hard (no-nonsense, name taker, bottom line shot caller, deal maker).  Yet, any man, who gets to know me socially, is clear that I am a lady who is eager to follow strong leadership.  Despite this fact, those who only encountered me casually could easily miss this nuance because of my poise and professionalism. 

I also realized that I usually harnessed my “feminine mystique”  ((future entry)) until I encountered a man who had expressed his interest.  Then I would turn it on.  Honest talks with male friends over the last 16 months have taught me that I needed to soften myself.  I am strong.  No changing that.  But did I always need to come off sooo strong?  Fact: some men will not lean in close enough to see your softness and learn that beneath the very accomplished businesswoman turned minster is a girl looking for her prince charming. I know now, I have to let my soft show. It is critical to my pursuit.

So today I am pursing my own destiny.  I have learned it is not just about happiness; but more about doing my best to cooperate with 

G-d’s destiny for my life.  That means being open, being wiling to change and keeping my eyes and ears open for glimmers of the future.  Who knows sometimes when you least expect it, opportunity knocks.

Wait, I think someone is knocking now… 

So I wait...

          I have been waiting...

                    I will wait...

                              for the one God will send.

                                                     --Godiva

A Moan...then Silence

I apologize for the silence.  It has been a tough few weeks.  I have found it hard to write the whisper, because all I had to give was a moan.  My moans were about loneliness.  My moan was about feeling alone while in crowded rooms.  Also I need to write about my own journey of survival of sexual abuse.  The Penn State incident has raised old issues for many.  While my own issues have been well worked out in prayer, worship and therapy.  The experience does play strongly into the whisper of my life.

So I owe you an entry or two.  Additionally, I feel the need to respond to the pull in me to write here more.  So I may take to two times a week in January.  I am still journalling to separate this from that.  Yet, at moments I see the need for overlap between the two.  I'm still learning how to do that.  Please be prayerful with me as I discern what to share in this sacred space.

Sacred because hopefully in my own transparency, you can hear G-d speaking to you.  Unless I am absolutely compelled to do so, I resist the preacher in me and never take a text.  But hopefully you hear the Word in between the cypher of my prose. But I believe (or at least think) if the experience of G-d's people and G-d interaction with them was deemed holy and become G-d's word in the past; then stories of today's Christians have sacred connotations, because of the power of story.  Our stories matter; and because God is involved in our stories they are Sacred.

Fact: I am a wordy girl.  So despite my attempt to shorten my next blog to 500-750 words, I am at what seems to be my sweet spot, about 800.  I guess that is who I am. So I own it.  My hope is that these entries take no longer than 7-10 minutes to read.  We rush rush rush all the time.  I sure do.  But what is a few minutes a week to hear the whisper of our souls?  So I will continue D & T to try and shorten these entries, but "I am what I am..." (in my best popeye's voice) wordy.  Lol.

Godiva

Too Desperate to Be Blessed

Lately, I have been having a series of interesting conversation with some of my single and married male friends.  They have been eye opening and have caused me to think about how I am situated within the truth that they shared. 

The initial conversation was between me and a friend, lets call him ATL.  ATL is a 30 something married minister with an awesome marriage of six years to a beautiful sister who too is my friend.  We were talking about my blog and some different topic ideas I was considering.   He asked me how I was doing with my active waiting– now that’s another entry for another day- and my current prospects.  Anyway in the middle of that discussion today’s topic emerged.  Here is how our conversation went…

ATL says to me “within moments of entering a room I can tell which women are available and which ones are not; which are open to be approached and those who are closed; I can even tell which ones are desperate to be in a relationship” and by implication married.  I think to myself, yeah really.  Then he shared that the last group were the ones he “used to avoid.”  He explains, even when he was ready for marriage and wanted to find his mate, he would avoid those who seemed desperate to be married.  My response was first silence and then out loud I skeptically barked “really!”

I must admit, that I am not sure what I objected to the most:  the idea that “being ready for love” could be misinterpreted as desperation upon casual observation OR that men are really that perceptive to discern so much about us without one word being shared. 

This struck a nerve, because although I never have been desperate, at least to my own mind, had I ever come across as desperate?  Particularly without saying one word.  What did that look like? Would I know it if is ever creped up in me? Could a waiting woman seem desperate instead or ready for God to bless?  I needed to know more.

A Pregnant Pause - Of course I am not oblivious that we women can give off many messages with body language alone.  Heck I do it all the time.  I well know the power of non-verbal communication – from a look, a brush of the hair, even our posture says something.   But until this conversation, I thought much more about its benefits and our feminine mystique instead of how it could block us from the very thing we wanted most. 

Both men and women know how to use looks, glances and slightest movement to say come close or go away.  As a woman, I even know how to give a glace of indifference and grab a man into my presence within moments.  Shoot my ultra ego Godiva is a consummate flirt.  She knows how to send a look, a half smile or smirk, to shift in her chair or even change her walk just to say “hello.”  Indeed, I know how to discreetly flirt from across the room and let a guy know that it is ok to approach. 

My Conversation with ATL that afternoon seemed to reveal that the non-verbal expertise of our species cut both ways. Dangerous ways.  This exchange was revealing.  I was so intrigued by what he shared.  Like watching an episode of Lie to Me, I leaned in, intrigued, rubbing my chin, channeling the persona of Yoda and said “hmmm interesting indeed, this is.

As I listened, I was forced to relinquish the thought ATL was kidding.  I wanted to convince myself that it was impossible for him or any man to know our disposition about our singleness without us even opening our mouth!  Something was unsettling about his assertion.  The inner me wanted to insist that his claim was ridiculous.  Yet, I knew ATL to always be a straight and honest communicator, so I asked,  “How he could possibly tell all of that upon entering a room? Without even speaking to a woman?” His response and the next hour conversation was an eye opener.

For some of you, this concept may not be a surprise, but for me it was enlightening.  I have a father, a step-father, two extremely doting uncles and a few close male friends, but non of them ever shared the truths I learned that day.  While we covered a lot, the place I want to hang my scarf for a conversation is around this idea that some of us want to be married and partnered so much that our desire reads as desperation to men.  Even worse, it comes across without any direct interaction or intent on our part.  And if that is true, then the very men that we want to be noticed by invalidate us because we come off as desperate.

A moment of silence to let that one sink in…

So I wait...

          I have been waiting...

                    I will wait...

                              for the one God will send.

                                            - Ms. Godiva Sweet

Shattered Dreams & Broken Pieces (a Rewind Entry)

Largely the Whisper was born out of time of emotional crisis in my life.  It was a few years back while recuperating from a surgery that left me barren and led to the chain of events that birthed “a waiting woman’s whisper.”

Surgery: I had a phenomenal medical team and an even better prayer team that supported and surrounded me.  Like any self-respecting charismatic, neo-Pentecostal, crazy-faith Christian I solicited my sister-friends, peers, leadership team at church and family to join me believing God for a miracle.  We had fasted, prayed, believed in faith and possessed a righteous hope for a positive outcome.  I would later learn that God had answered our prayer, because my surgery was far more difficult than I had imagined.  Life itself was my miracle.

A Great Loss: Other than the passing of my grandparents who despite living full lives left a crater sized hole in my heart when they moved onto glory- this was my first great loss.  At least with my grandparents I had been known and loved them.   But this was all together different.  My dream had died!  The thing I had hoped for, even presumed since I was a child would no longer be a reality.  I never new it.  It was dream. 

Sure, there were other ways I could and maybe someday would parent…but at that time I only felt loss.  I couldn’t understand how this had become my reality, my story, my truth.  The little girl who had kept herself for marriage, waited for sex, now at 39 was without a womb!  There were no words.

When I first awakened in the recovery room and my doctor told me the outcome, I had a peace.  I finally understood Philippians 4:7 “the Peace of God that passes all understanding.”  I did not cry, I felt no pain, I had peace.   I would later recognize that this Peace was a gift and a grace given to me by God as He divinely shielded me from the emotional pain while my body began the “two month” process of healing.   Two months, ha! It was more like a year+ before I did not have a daily reminder of some sort of what my body had gone through. 

I had my first cry the day after I got home from the hospital, about 7 days after surgery.  I didn’t cry every day, but instead I would cry about once a week.  Almost like on schedule, every Sunday night during my recuperation period I would cry.  But as the feeling came back in my body, my soul was growing numb.

In Crisis: While my crisis began emotionally, after about seven months it had morphed into a spiritual problem.  I was morning.  I was hurting. I had grown numb.  This is where the problem came in.  Numbness creates a distance between you and the God, you and Christ, you and Holy Spirit.  This is because you cannot feel when you are numb.  Ironically, my numbness did not, at first at least, effect my ability to worship.  What I was feeling emotionally had no negative impact on my commitment and devotion to God.  I had decided as a youth there was no turning back.  Plus God’s goodness, despite my present emotional state, could not compare to anything else.  Receiving the gifts and graces of God in one’s life is inexplicable.  Its something you must experience for yourself to fully understand.  So me and God were good.

Nonetheless, a chance meeting let me see that something was wrong inside.  Problem being, I did not care.  I was having uncharacteristic thoughts and was ready to follow through on them.  I saw a rising indifference in me. Why wait.  I was wondering why I had kept myself if this was going to be the outcome.  I asked myself…why had I not gone ahead and have sex as a teen or during college or even in my 20’s and early 30’s?  Why did I wait for a dream that had never showed up?  Where was my love and marriage- the supposed prize for waiting on the Lord to bring the desires of my heart?  I wanted to know.  So maybe waiting didn’t make any sense anymore, others had done their thing, had their fun and repented and had moved on to, what appeared to be full wonderful lives of faith AND they had husbands too.  Maybe I should play with him….

I knew I needed help!  Although a virgin, I was not without sexual, very sexual encounters (sins of days gone by).  But I had been waiting for years- most times completely obedient and without physical contact.  But now with my feelings back, I wanted to be touched.  I needed to feel again.  On a sub-conscience level it was like I was saying to myself, if I could not dream, then at least I would feel.  I was headed for sin.

At the surface it would seem that I was having a full on pity-party, but it was so much deeper.  I was hurt at my core.  Yet, I was functioning fully- showing up, teaching, preaching, coaching, mentoring and loving on the people of God.  But inside a callous was growing around the wounds to my heart.  Tears had long since stopped; except for the occasional inconvenient whimper.  I was hurt emotionally, but I was also suffering spiritually, as I later discovered I was not only hurt, I had grown angry.

Therapy: Being a Pastor, I knew I needed help and this was not a scenario for “physician heal thy own self.”  Yet, at first, I put off going for help.  Like a storm coming upon the horizon, I knew I was headed from trouble.  Having seen it manifest in others time and time again, I was approaching an intimate first-hand encounter with despair, depression and disobedience.  I knew that therapy was necessary, not pastoral counseling. I needed to go take a seat on somebody’s couch.  Shoot, I might need to lie down.

Today I am healthy.  I have been healed of my heart disease and I have again found the power to hope and to dream again.  In fact, now my desire for my husband is stronger than I could ever have imagined.  From the broken pieces of my dream, a more beautiful God-centered vessel (dream) has emerged.  I am grateful to my now friend OB1, who was the object of my affection for a short moment which revealed to me that I was ready.  It’s been almost four years since I woke up in recovery with that Peace of God.  I am grateful to God for my journey with all its intricacies and through it all, though tattered and tested, I still have “that Peace.”  Girl… it feels good to dream again…

So I wait...

          I have been waiting...

                    I will wait...

                              for the one God will send.

                                            - Ms. Godiva Sweet

P.S.  I know I have left major parts out, but the issues of this entry could fill an entire book.  I will periodically do these rewinds that will fill in the blanks.  I appreciate your grace as I continue to whisper (and sometime whine).

An ontological conversation....

Welcome to the whisper,  a conversation space for me to explore, laugh, grow, groan and occasionally scream about my journey in singleness, while I wait for God to send my husband (myMOG-my man of God).  This will not be a blog about destination; even it if sounds like it in my tag line.  Instead, is is about my journey with all it's twists, turns, hills, mountains, plaines, valleys, obstacles and roadblocks. The whisper will not be writings from my prayer journal, instead things I've been wanting to talk about in open space and engage others, but could not do with my face and my name attached to it.  Thus, the whisper will be written anonymously until God says otherwise.  Who knows, one day it will become my memoir.  As if someone wants to hear about my life...I guess we will see.

My commitment to you is that I will be honest, even when that honesty will for a moment make me seem unfaithful in my commitment to faithfully stay the course.  I am committed to sharing my truth- triumphs, failures, trails, joys, pains and questions.  I don't propose that I have all the answers, but maybe you will help me find some- or even lift more questions for exploration.  Sometimes my writings will be carefully scripted whispers and at other times they will be simple spontaneous reveals of my experience or emotions of the day.  Either way, I will be true and allow you to hear the whispers of my heart.

About Me...
I am a forty-something Christian clergy-woman of African-American decent living in the midwest. The whisper is about a quest to walk this journey without knowing my husband in the biblical way, until our wedding night.  I have never blogged before and I don't even faithfully follow the blogs to which I subscribe.  I find that I am moving to fast, doing to much and not taking enough time to read.  But during this next phase I endeavor to write and to read not only theological and ministry literature along with my bible, but I am committing to reading things that are for the woman I am on this journey.  It will be my goal to put a post up every week at first and maybe later a few times a week.  But for now, I am putting this introduction up as a story of beginnings.  Remember I am not a professional blogger and I have no clue what I am doing.

Disclaimer...
I apologize now for typos!  I will get better and will have a reader sometime soon.  But this first one has not been read by my editors.  With no ink in my printer, it will certainly have some mistakes, I pray for grace.

In the beginning... 
I have always been a church-girl and have been a committed to a personal relationship with Christ since my teens.  I knew early being becoming one of Christ's disciple was a journey- not a destination.    I began my journey with full resolve to never look back, and I have not.  However, my early life and my life before Christ was not one riffled with sin, in any overt way, but since we are all born in sin...I knew I needed a savior.  In the weeks before I got saved, I knew it was no longer enough to be a good church-girl.  Thanks to my mom, I had been persuaded that I had to know Christ for myself and make a personal decision to follow him as disciple. While I knew that in theory, I am greatful to some faithful young people in my church and denomination that were instrumental in me making a decision for Christ one Friday evening.

Like many little girls, I had typical plans for my life: love, marriage and children (in that order).  Sure I would have an education, but that was presumed; but marriage and children were my dreams.  As I grew in wisdom, knowledge of God and knowledge of self, my dreams continued to take shape.  I journaled (yes I know that is not a true word...but I hate journalized...it sounds fake) about my future husband and even had a list describing my dream guy.  Through the years the list would change;  items would fall off, and eventually I had a very short list.

You see, relationships would reveal new truth that demanded a change in the list.  For example, one of my most brilliant (beautiful to look at, an added plus indeed) male objects of affection, had no formal education past high school.  With him I realized that I did not necessarily need a man with a formal education, because what I desired most between the two, was intelligence.  It is true, that often intelligence is the outgrowth of education, but not necessarily a formal education.  See with the prophetic one, my nick name for him, I learned that some of the most intelligent people are self taught.

Through the years, new truths about life of myself or about what I needed caused shifts in the list.  I would only visit my list annually, but it was not static.  It was dynamic and changed as I changed and grew.  Over the years it went from youthful detailed specifics to essential characteristics that I truly felt I needed or at least wanted in a mate.

But it has been 20 years or more since that first list and I don't really have a written one at this point.  There is a version that is about 3-4 years old and I have not looked at it in at least 2 years.  The why's and what's about why I have not looked at or maintained my annual review is certainly not a ontological conversation.  I will leave that to a later blog.  Indeed, there are ideological things I am believing God for, but as for a list, there is none per se.  Yet, I believe I will assuredly know when he comes.  It will be through prayer, fasting, discernment, accountability and more prayer that I will know when he has arrived.  I sure can not wait to see who he will be and what God will bless me with.

So I wait...
          I have been waiting...
                    I will wait...
                              for the one God will send.


Can you begin to hear my heart's whisper?  
            Godiva...