What the Hamburger Helper

It has been a pretty rough thirty days. Starting with what I thought was going to be a blessing actually adversely affected my health. Walking up and down the stairs of an outdated school building, walking the concrete halls retrieving students for remediation took its toll on my hips. I couldn't figure out why my leg and thigh were hurting so severely. It caused me to pull out my trusty cane and seek the advice of an orthopedic doctor. I had so much to do during that 30 day stint; finish the long term assignment, attend a woman’s conference, rehearse the students for a play I had written and continue to help the students in my after school program, launch a new student program, build my website were just a few of the things on my immediate agenda. Oh, I didn’t mention I had been appointed by the new pastor to take on secretarial duties during our time of transition. It was a bit much, but I have always been a multi-tasker. As I struggled each day to get out of bed just to do the basic things, each step I took was like needles and pins shooting up my leg. I refused at first to see a doctor, because I guessed it was simply a pulled muscle from all of the walking, sitting and standing I had not been accustomed to in the last six years.
During massage therapy the therapist kept asking if I could remember where the pains might have originated. As I lay on the table my mind drew a blank. Once in my car it all started coming back to me. I remembered I had had a slip and fall in the cafeteria at one of my former schools, hit in the shin with a flying chair by a rowdy student, wrapping both legs around him to keep him still as teachers are instructed exacerbated that condition. At another school I was kicked in that same shin by a different rowdy student. It was all coming back. And in none of the situations did I call foul and try to sue the school system. Hmmmmmm! Dwelling on these things serves no real purpose except to let the therapist know where my problem spots were.
Scheduling an MRI with the orthopedic service was the best thing the doctor could have done. Although he could not find the problem looking at a mere x-ray, he promised to prescribe something for pain and inflammation and order massage therapy. He forgot to call in the prescriptions and order the therapy that would relieve the pain. Whoo boy here we go. I was asked if I were claustrophobic, had metal anywhere in my body etc. etc. On the day of the MRI I arrived early prepared to get in that chamber and once and for all find out what was up. Lying there quiet and scrunched up I was determined to get it over with. Relaxing my mind and telling myself to take a nap was the simple solution to being in that thing. But oh no, the attendant rolled me back out saying the machine wasn’t calibrated correctly. Back in again. Relax Miss Lady, just relax. Back out, back in. The third time was the charm, not doing this today I authoritatively told the technician. If the machine is not working today let’s do it another day. I’m not going back in that chamber again. Claustrophobic? No, just didn’t want to be practiced on that day. So now they have to find another machine, preferably one with open sides and of course in good working condition.
Back to the rough 30 days…it had been unusual and perplexing, but what I have learned from this is that we don’t always control what we think we control. My family was there to help me get over the rough spots. I sat in a rolling, backless chair to do small chores and prepare dinner. I guess the downstairs neighbor wanted to know what in the heck was going on upstairs. Even though I am not quite out of the woods I know that when the Lord wants to get our attention He will get our attention. He did not put more on me than I was able to bear. For that matter, I might have put it on myself trying to be superwoman. It is not for me to do everything, but learn to call on reinforcements and pray and seek Him for the answers. I’ve also learned that I have to “take a little time and enjoy the view.” Okay Whoopie.

FOLLOWING THE SCRIPT

I’m lying here with nothing really in particular on my mind. The telephone keeps ringing. It’s 6:30am and I’m a little tired from the night before. My husband and I had dinner with friends and the drive was long. The dinner was great, the conversation was lighthearted and loving, making the drive that much more bearable. I’m ignoring the telephone hoping my son will answer so I can go back to sleep. It rings two more times between 6:30am – 7:30am. I’m still not budging to answer. Whoever it is obviously is not calling for me. When I finally do stir I check the caller ID to make sure it wasn’t the service calling with an assignment. Ah well, if it was important they’d leave a message or call back. Well now I’m up and I start my routine. As I said, there’s nothing in particular on my mind and nothing that I really want. I post this on my Facebook page and ask if anyone else feels this way. Perhaps my senses are a little dull from the lack of protein and dairy I’ve had little of in the past two weeks. I am in a state of contentment. Projects are still due; interviews have to be scheduled, becoming a charter member of a national organization, and planning a showcase are a few of the things on my immediate radar. I am not rattled by all of the work that must go in to make these activities successful. It’s just God fulfilling a promise he made years ago. I am amazed at His perfect pitch, His wonderful orchestration of my life and the lives that are intersecting. Perhaps my lack of aggression this morning is God’s way of saying, “Why are you struggling to make things happen? I am your Father who cares for you. I am setting the stage for what is to come.” These last few words are so familiar; they’ve been audibly spoken to me before. I have a quiet excitement and anticipation of those things that are to come. I’ve remembered more words, “Just follow the script”. Awesome! And so I know my life is in His hands, I’ll do just that.

Is it Love?

I have come to realize over the years how important prayer is in the life of a believer. The sermons on prayer that tell us we only use prayer when things are going wrong are not entirely true. For those who know how to pray, prayer is a daily sometimes multi-daily thing. What is in my heart is prayer for our young adults who think they are in love. By the way, at what age do we consider a person an adult? When they can make decisions? When they find a job or continue school, or move out on their own? For some maturity comes quickly. I remember leaving my parents home at age 18 and never looked back,that is to move back home. No matter what the situation, I was determined to make it on my own. But in doing that I had some bumps and bruises along the way. Does a person’s age necessarily constitute adulthood? At 18 I was much more mature than my 26 year old counterpart. (Typically girls mature faster.) Now I’m dealing with something and praying that these people will hurry up and grow up. The ying and yang of young love is wearing on me and I’m so tempted to put an end to the Romeo and Juliet syndrome. But who am I to interfere?

Time for A Second Act

Amidst the sad faces, the tears and the long dialogue the unspoken questions hung on the tips of everyone’s tongue. The beginning of the end was here. In an agonizing decision to step down from the pastorate and let another lead, my husband the great teacher, trainer, and educator was himself tearful as he explained to the church the proper protocol for his retiring from ministry. The discussion had already taken place with his family and the jurisdictional bishop. The thoughts and concerns of the members were taken into account. After all had been said and concerns were aired,one wise saint asks “What is it that you want to do? What is the Lord telling you about us, the church?" As the pastor bravely stood there trying to explain, the Lord allowed me to prophetically see some things. It would be alright. Dismantling a ministry was not what he wanted and he adjured the saints to stay to make the transition easier. What had happened, what went wrong, why was he having to step away from something he loved, the people the teaching? It’s not easy to say goodbye to loved ones, but in order for the next phase to take place saying goodbye to a pastorate was quite necessary. Two thoughts developed throughout the discussions. One) My husband had so often bragged on the saints; his members, about how strong they were in the word and just anybody would not be able to come and minister to them. They had to really bring it… Two) He knew that the members would not be there forever. Some of the members had come for edification, for training and would move on to the office in which the Lord would allow them to flourish. That had happened on several occasions throughout his pastorate. The revolving door swung wide. A number of reasons surfaced involving who would use that revolving door. But how do you tell your beloved you do not want to burden them, that there is a remedy. In all of the talk I myself wondered if the saints were seeing the bigger picture. We had been trained well and somewhere in the world the students were waiting for the teachers to show up. And now with his decision to retire as pastor my husband would be freeing the well trained members to go into any arena and exercise their gifts. So now the tears that I had only seen on one other occasion would fall, but in relief that he had done what the Lord had told him to do. And now it was time for his second act because God was not through with him yet. It’s so hard to say goodbye.

Tardy for the Party

If you're following the "Tardy for the Party" saga on the Real Housewives of Atlanta you'll know that there has been a real issue with Kandi collecting producer points on the song. Royalties were paid to her as a 1/3 publishing partner but seems there was no agreement for payment for producer credits. If you've ever attended one of my music business seminars you would have heard me speak on the issue of royalties; who gets credit for what. More importantly who gets paid! Kandi was relying on Kim to do the right thing because of their friendship. Because they didn't sign an agreement Kim choose to take all that she felt she was entitled. As the producer, arranger, singer and publisher Kandi's expectations were quite ambitious. I've discussed this too. If you find someone who allows you to be all of that you stand to make a pretty good piece of change. As for Kandi's relationship with Kim, she's not going to burn those bridges. She's no dummy. Even though Kim can't sing worth a lick - she has showmanship and tenacity. Don't cry for Kandi RHA fans, she'll make a pretty good sum on the next Kim snaffu. And the next time she'll get it in writing.

Sometimes I wonder how it is that people become dream stealers, career crushers, imitators. Never before have I payed much attention to these kinds of people because I didn’t think I ever had anything worth stealing or imitating. But now I know that there are a few who would like to be me. Not like me, but me. Yes I said it. There are a few copy cats out there with my MO. Even now I don’t let it bother me because I know that the truth will shine through. I remember some years ago when I approached a record producer about recording my group. He was into recording choirs so I made the intros and made it happen. I worked on the project to help it come to life. At the end of the session and the records were pressed, I looked for my name in the credits. Hmmm there were special thanks but no producer credits. That credit was given to the choir director. Again when I wrote a song for a major choir I listed the musicians that collaborated with me as I am a fair person. When the royalties were being distributed and the credits were given, one of the musicians was awarded a third of the song. Hmmmm! Now I don’t think as highly of myself as I should but I was perturbed that my work was being claimed by another. Who does that?
This afternoon as I watched cable access I listened to the VP of Tyler Perry Studios as he introduced Kim Fields Morgan, a recipient of the Trailblazer Award for Film I had a thought. Mrs. Fields-Morgan was being honored for her 30 year career in film and it was fitting that the VP of Tyler Perry Studios make an introduction as she is now directing the sitcom from that studio, “Meet the Browns”. My interest followed the story of her career and her work ethic on the set.
I think now of the few kids in my after school program that clamor for attention from anyone who walks through the door. One little boy is a pro at this to the point that he's downright aggravating. He attempts to gain all of the attention as the older children amuse themselves with distractions. I get annoyed sometimes because he interferes with the other children getting their proper time and attention while in my care. Ms. Fields-Morgan the story goes on is on the set of Meet the Browns and one of the extras is over zealous. Before Kim rushes in [angrily] to correct the situation someone else intervenes. I thought of how sometimes we let people get away with stealing our dreams and our goals by not “correcting them”. Today we say “checking them”. If it were not for the Kim Fields Morgan’s of the world who fight for the underdog and the integrity of a scene all of the scene stealers would go on their merry way, content that they have stolen something from someone that they want to be. My motto after having many scenes stolen from me is---make 'em work for it and move to the side so Kim can see them trying to steal your scene.

Perry's Film Another One in a Series of Male Bashing

Okay so the much publicized movie "For Colored Girls" has hit the theaters. It is amazing the various perspectives reported by men and women. The men regard the movie as another one of those "male bashing pieces" designed to put the brothers down. Hmmmm! First, isn't Tyler a man? He simply took the original production of "For Colored Girls who Have Considered Suicide When the Rainbow is Enough" and brought it to the screen. The poetry and dialogue is mostly written by women. I saw the original play years ago and found it quite entertaining. I especially loved the dialogue from Loretta Devine toward the end of the movie...he's taken my stuff...I kept waiting for her to finish the poem with "you've taken my heart, give it back put it down", but oops that was a line from one of my poems. That part didn't dawn on me until 2:30AM. But to say that the movie was about male bashing is an understatement. Brothers we love you-sometimes to death. But until we as women learn to love ourselves and respect one another you'll find our love is limited where you are concerned. The movie depicted the struggles women face when they love a black man; particularly one who is broken. Not all brothers need to be fixed, but some do and to say that we bash you is your opinion. We long for a relationship where the drama is limited to mediocre things. But rape, murder, theft are huge and cannot be swept under a rug no matter who commits these atrocities toward women. I love black men, have always loved black men, am married to a beautiful black man and have raised two black sons. When we are wrong we need to accept the help from strong black women. Do you get me? We can't keep silent when you continue to hurt us.