Warrior Wounds

When we hurt, from the hands of others who selfishly or thoughtlessly harm us, we can be doubled over in pain. Wounds so deep they have us bent and twisted, walking wayward toward unweeded paths that choke our very lives. We may seem erect, head held high, but our souls suffocate, unoxygenated, weak, running on emotional empty. We have been complicit with our culprits. They hurled the hurt and we caught and carried it, nursing our wounds with pride, pointing fingers at our offenders and saying how much better we are than they. We clean our cuts with cursing the air and them, choosing not to say anything but instead waiting for them to come talk to us.

We can bandage our bruises with bitterness and wrap our hearts with hopelessness, and our self-concocted antiseptics are really creating septic souls, too diseased for anything healthy to grow. But we have a choice to negatively nurse or nutritionally nurse our wounds. We can choose to start with prayer.

Nothing brings such leanness into a man’s soul as a lack of prayer.—Charles Spurgeon

Prayer is not designed to inform God, but to give man a sight of his misery; to humble his heart, to excite his desire, to inflame his, faith, to animate his hope, to raise his soul from earth to heaven.—Adam Clarke

Trouble and perplexity drive me to prayer and prayer drives away perplexity and trouble.—Philipp Melanchthon

And prayer begins with praise. Here, in the praise, is where God meets us (Isaiah 61:3). On Wednesday and Thursday, when I sought him to help my hurting and angry soul, the praise produced this: “You are in the presence of greatness,” as I saw my offenders’ faces in my head; and “You value people,” the word a daughter of mine told me when expressing her amazement at my ability to spend time with others and not neglect my family. I told her this was God’s grace and God reminded me that I can deal with my offenders by His grace.

His grace enables me to see greatness and not the grief they caused me. They are fearfully and wonderfully made, complex creatures made in His image but subject to human frailties. And when they fail me and I want to tell them how they failed me I must remember that I “value people,” and treat them with the respect worthy of a person of greatness. When I devalue them, I devalue God and have suffocated my soul. God’s grace nutritionally nurses our wounds and helps us speak the nourishing truth.

I praise God for a healed soul, for helping me think of my offenders with love, not anguish and languishing, and for helping creating in me warrior wounds, spiritually fought battle scars that remind me to seek God and apply only what He says. Jesus is the balm we need.

Copyright 2011 by Rhonda J. Smith

My One Thousand Gifts List

#51-60
The Bloom Book Club
My many journals
Justus staying the night in the crib
A good night’s rest
Time wht Flynn away from the house and children
Bobbi for babysitting
Winston for shoveling the snow
Fellowshipping with Darryl and Marcy
Accepting I have to develop a new friendship
Family devotion

Power of Faith and Parenting

For years I shrunk back from the power of faith, seeing its might like an approaching Mac truck in the next lane. I wanted to play it safe, not wanting it to hit me, thinking it might damage my existence, mangling me into and maligning me as a fanatic that favored faith over the God that demanded it. Yes, I believed God could do anything and wanted Him to do what I believed He placed on my heart, but I would have a hard time seeing my life play out in the visions He showed me.

“…Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

God did. I would feel an urging in my spirit to obey God, just follow the path he showed me: Marry Flynn; join his church; submit to the church’s biased leadership; keep my mouth shut and show my husband through my actions; quit my tenured job; be a homemaker; and a host of other demands that at the time I could not see how they related to my life mission: to encourage Christian women, particularly black Americans, to be biblical all their various roles.

“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to [his] purpose” (Romans 8:28).

The more I obeyed, the more I saw God work in my tough moments. Obedience increased my faith in God and in the visions coming to pass. So from the hidden spaces of my house to the unveiled vastness of the Internet, God has recently given me some platforms to carry out my mission, the latest one being Empowering Everyday Woman Magazine, where I am the new parenting columnist for this online news source for Christian women of color. Check out the introductory feature on me in the latest edition.

“. . . [T]tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope:” (Romans 5:3-4).

Now my faith is strong, knowing that I may not know exactly how God will bring His vision for my life to pass but confident that He will.

“And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him” (Hebrews 11:6).

So today I thank God for His faithfulness. Through it I have become more faithful.

My One Thousand Gifts List

#41-50
AAA Road Service
A husband willing to wait for AAA Road Service
A mother-in-law I can talk to
Being able to hear God’s voice
The Holy Ghost giving ears to my spirit
Keeping me safe on the road with three flat tires
A loving church
Deacon Elijah for telling me about my flat tires
Brother John Malloy for noticing the first flat tire
Brothers Leartis and John for attempting to change one tire and get air for the other ones.

Copyright 2011 by Rhonda J. Smith

Complain No More

The life of gratitude is not easily lived. Filled with complaints of what didn’t happen and what we don’t have, our lives can easily get lost in a what-if world, one that didn’t happen and may never occur. For too long, as a recovering strong black woman, the what-if world is where I lived and no modern-day destroyer kept me from complaining. I just wanted what I wanted and in pursuit of it would moan about not yet having it.

What about the here and now? What about what we already have? Are we thankful for that, satisfied for now with that? I’m working being consistently thankful and satisfied. I have left the what-if world, only visiting and doing so less and less. I’m on the gratitude road, traveling to the place where my lips always sing God’s praises no matter what the circumstances. This is a place I am enjoying getting to and very much different from the anxiety-ridden road of complaint.

Two and a half months ago I took Ann Voskamp’s challenge to begin a gratitude journal, daily writing down up to 1,000 as they occur the gifts God places before me: the smell of flowers, my children’s laughter, a hard day that came to an end, anything that reminds me that God is ever-present, ever-powerful, ever-giving; He is faithful and I can be grateful just because of that. Today begins my official declaration of joining Ann on her challenge and journey. Monday now on my blog until whenever God changes the direction will be Multitudes on Mondays, the day I share items from my gratitude journal. As I share I hope you are prompted to thank God for your blessings, to do so right where you are, and maybe even begin a journal of your own. Join me in living a joyous life, one that only comes from giving thanks.

#1-10
a good night’s rest
food for Joshua’s lunch
warm clothes to dress Joshua for school
snuggling with Nate
reading two books with Nate
praying for an old friend
quiet in the morning house
a take-care of business husband
fresh fruit in the winter
warm pajamas

Copyright 2011 by Rhonda J. Smith

Remember the Work of Grace

When I was in college a friend told me that one of her friends thought I got everything I wanted. She didn’t even know me, but had watched from afar my entrance and acceleration in my sorority, work on the school newspaper, internships at top daily newspapers and a gang of people to hang with. This woman had long-distance envy, and I, with my sinful gloat coat that all strong black women wear because we do things that people should admire, got a kick out of her envy, thinking, “Dang, it’s too bad she ain’t me.” Continue reading