Lord, Help!

Lord, Help!

Once again, we seem to be spinning out of control–America at-large that is. I’m guessing, it’s because as a society, we have been far too lenient and tolerant of unacceptable behavior that many have brushed off or under a rug.

No long winded commentary today, just a reminder about where stand in the eyes of the world. Sexual assault, misconduct, harassment are not acceptable by anyone towards anyone else. We are supposed to be civilized human beings and I’m wondering when we’ll demonstrate that to others. No one–NO ONE–should be touched or man-handled by another person unless they are consenting to the act. 14 year-olds do not legally have the right to consent and most don’t. Having stated the obvious, what we are doing in this country when:

Al Franken is never given the opportunity for due process to take its course when he concedes to his party’s requests and resigns.

John Conyers resigns amid sexual misconduct allegations and failing health.

Trent Franks resigns because apparently he doesn’t understand what constitutes sexual misconduct when speaking about surrogacy with employees.

Blake Farenthold is offering to pay back $84 thousand dollars paid to squash allegations of sexual misconduct and to resign.

Both Democrats and Republicans on the surface at least, have demonstrated some sense of decency and responsibility.

But then we have an accused pedophile running for the Senate in Alabama in order to hold a Republican seat in Congress and people are applauding him and claiming his accusers are criminals. I’d like to know where that law is written–if a person accuses someone of a crime–they become the criminal! Sounds like some misogynistic, bigoted premise that only a fool would believe. But then again, let’s look at who’s supporting him. Senate Majority Leader–Mitch McConnell and trump–who has over 12 women accusing him of sexual misconduct.

Neither Roy Moore or TraitorDon plan to step aside or resign. Why? They deny doing anything wrong and claim the women lie. I believe the women, but if the rest of America doesn’t take a stand, the women will never be heard.

Quite frankly, I’m tired of old white and black men thinking they can do whatever they want to do to women and think–the women should be thankful for the attention. It’s time to put a stop to this often overlooked stain on our society and clean it up. We can and we must–by hearing the whole of the matter and not just brushing situations aside.

Until we can put aside tribalistic bonds and see people, we need to create a new environment in Congress, led by women who (hopefully) will not abuse their positions, but do all they can to uphold the constitution and in caring about their constituents. So, in this brief commentary (by my usual standards), I encourage women all over the United States to get involved so we can take care of the business of governing, not fighting accusations of sexual misconduct.

And let’s face one simple fact: none of us is perfect for there are no perfect human beings walking the face of the earth. However, if we wait for a perfect person to elect them, our society will be without government. So, let’s do the best we can to elect the best available for the benefit of all in America!

I Am

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Whose Child Are You?

“Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God—” (John 1:12 NIV).

We are the children of the Most High God; Jesus is our elder brother, we are joint-heirs with Him–when we receive and believe the work on the cross He did for us. Hallelujah!

We have rights–the right to believe every one of God’s promises is for us and receive them; we have the right to expect Him to hear every one of our prayers and respond; we have a right to proclaim His name in promoting the Gospel; we have a right to be heard in our proclamation, but the children of Belial also have rights.

They have the right to reject everything God has said, reject the work on the cross, deny themselves the right to receive God’s promises and the right to cut off any possible ties that would lead to a relationship with God. They have a right to lie, steal, kill, deceive, and destroy. They have a right to mimic their daddy. They have a right to reject the proclamations of Jesus Christ and they have a right to choose their place of rest for all eternity, as do we.

For the over thirty years, I have been exercising my rights as a child of the Most High.  I have encountered many obstacles, but He has created triumph out of trials. He has made me victorious when I could have been victimized. His love has sustained me  and lifted me when love could not be found in other people. His Word has encouraged me when others would not speak to me. I have a right to do all that I have seen my Daddy do. I have a right to proclaim His goodness and Praise Him everywhere I go. I am His Child and He is my Daddy–The Greatest Father Ever Known! Hallelujah!

Whose child are you?

 

Promoting Writing

After I got old enough to sit on my own, and then walk and feed myself—people for the most part left me alone.  It was almost as if I wasn’t even there—almost.  I was noticed if I got in someone’s way and shoved to the side.  I was noticed when I cried and sometimes my cries were quickly suppressed by the closest person to me.  I realized early in my life that no one was interested in hearing my voice—for any reason.  This was made abundantly clear when I started talking—the response I heard most was—“shut up!”   My mother tried, I guess to the best of her ability, but she was outnumbered and was not always around to see what was being done to me.  Left at the table unable to get down on my own, locked into the bathroom, unable to leave when I finished doing what I was supposed to do, and left out of feeling loved and wanted—because no one wanted me, not even my mother, I began to think.

As time moved forward and I began to sprout—up and outward—my brothers began to pay more attention to me than they should have.  They began touching me and making me squirm with the comments they made.  I told my sister and she just shrugged it off saying, “That’s the way they are.  They’ll stop sooner or later.”  My sister was three years older than I was so I thought she knew what she was talking about.  It turned out she didn’t.  The boys were all older than us—the oldest one was seven years older than me, the next one was five years older than me and then there was my sister. By the time was ten—I had been molested by both of my brothers and no one believed me when I tried to tell it.  My sister just rolled her eyes, my mother didn’t have time to hear it, and my daddy—he looked me real funny-like. Things got so bad; I simply stopped trying to talk and learned how to fight.  I left so many scratches and bite marks on them, they finally left me alone, but there I was—left to think that this is what life on the outside was all about.

Right after I turned twelve another trap was set for me.  My daddy finally noticed me—at least he noticed my budding bosom and started teasing me. At least I thought it was teasing me until he started touching me—telling me how pretty I was and how I was going to have to fight off the boys.  When he said that, I remembered thinking, “I’ve already had to fight off my brothers, how hard could it be?”  I was going to learn.

While Mama was at work one night—she worked two jobs; one during the day and one at night—my daddy decided to play a game with me.  It wasn’t a game that I liked since it involved him touching me and grinning at me.  I remember his eyes clouding over as if someone had turned on a fog machine and the fog lingered in his eyes and his fingers groping me in places where they should never have explored.  He always told me our game was a secret and no one else could know, but I didn’t trust him and I certainly didn’t like his game.  I tried telling my sister, but she just told me shut up and deal with it.  He had played the same game with her.  “And there’s no point in telling Mama,” she warned.  “I tried and she didn’t believe me.”  I found that hard to believe so I tried telling Mama.

“Shush, girl.” She said.  “You know yo daddy didn’t do nothin’.  He was just playin’ around with you.  He’s like that.”  She sighed and went to her room and went to sleep.

For two years, I endured “daddy’s game” until one night he forced himself upon me. I was a big girl, but I couldn’t keep him from entering me and when I screamed—he quickly covered my mouth so tight that I passed out.  I remember drifting off into another world where people wanted me and kept me safe.  When I woke up, the sheets on my bed were bloody and tangled and I screamed, and screamed until my mother came into the room.  All I could do was point and scream.  When she saw the blood, she visibly paled and walked out the room.  I couldn’t believe she just walked out—never attempting to comfort me or to reassure me things would be all right.  Her reaction unnerved me, but I finally got up and went to the bathroom to clean myself—horrified at the thought of my daddy had done to me.  Before I could get out of the bathroom, I heard the sound of pistol shot.  Terrified, at first I could not move, then when I heard my sister scream, I catapulted out the door.  I could not see anyone, but I could hear crying and as I walked down the hallway, I saw my daddy lying in the floor and my mama standing over him with a 45 revolver in her hand.  I didn’t even know we had a gun in the house.  I think she heard my stifled gasp and she turned around.

“I’m sorry.  I should have listened to you a long time ago.  He’ll never touch you again,” she said woodenly, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so sorry, I wish I could change things, but I know that I can’t, but I am truly sorry.” She stood there still holding the gun.  By the time we heard the sirens in the distance, she had already made up her mind.  She turned the gun on herself and pulled the trigger.

This excerpt from my latest book, Trapped, will be released by Mid-February.  The book reveals the lives of nine women who feel trapped by circumstances, until they discover a way to overcome.  If you’d like to read more of this fantastic fiction, please stay tuned and don’t be afraid to offer some feedback.  Blessings to you!