
A true friend knows your weakness but shows you your strengths; feels your fears but fortifies your faith; sees your anxieties but frees your spirit; recognizes your disabilities but emphasizes your possibilities.
~William Arthur Ward

Today Brandon posted a photo that was disturbing to me. It was of a young man from Kampala, Uganda. As you can see the young man is sitting among broken pieces of furniture. The young man is quoted as saying, ‘The landlord doesn’t care how much furniture you’ve sold this month.’
No one should be homeless. No one! And no one should live in fear of becoming homeless.
What makes this photo so distressing to me is that I can’t help. And I’m sure if I could pay his rent for six months, his landlord would exploit my gift by raising his rent.

Love isn’t perfect. It isn’t a fairytale or a storybook and it doesn’t always come easy. Love is overcoming obstacles, facing challenges, fighting to be together, holding on and never letting go. It is a short word, easy to spell, difficult to define, and impossible to live without. Love is work, but most of all, love is realizing that every hour, every minute, every second of it was worth it because you did it together. [Author unknown]

About a year ago my husband and I were having marital problems. I hated him. He hated me. He blamed me for our financial problems. I blamed him for our financial burdens. It was clear to see my husband and I were at war. And, sadly, those that loved me took my side of things.
With a hint of amusement their marital advice normally centered around sex came at the wrong time in my life.
It was bad enough that I was dealing with a bad marriage. But having to deal with accepting my loved ones as out of control horny women just complicated matters. I wasn’t in need of sex! I needed sound judgment and advice. But what I got was the freak show extraordinaire! And when I write “horny women” I mean they were and are ‘horny women.’ And God bless their little hearts!
Beyond question the conversations between me and my loved ones made me blush of shame. I was so embarrassed for them, especially when they started going into details. OMG! Who were these women? How could I have not known these wonderful women walked on the wild-side of freakishness? Who knew? Cause I didn’t know! And when they became willing to share their sexual adventures I became scared for them!
One Caucasian friend was full of sexual suggestions. First, she told me I was in my prime and I needed to find a young man in his prime (age 36+). What! Sorry! But I’m not into younger men. However, I’m not going to say I didn’t consider having an affair but a younger man never enter my thoughts. And as a mom I would feel creepy having sex with someone around my children’s ages. I was in disbelief that my friend could even suggest that I date a young man! But! Hey! To each their own! Right?!! Right.
Needless to say my facial expression took on many forms as she was giving me poor advice. I knew her indiscreet but caring words were expressed to help me overcome my marital woes. Yet, had I followed her bad advice I would have made matters worse. And, besides, what woman in her prime really wants a sweaty young man pouncing on her fragile and aging body. Seriously!
I think as a person gets older they recognize their body is becoming fragile. And because of aging the perception of people really seek to find the truest meaning of intimacy to sexual pleasures.
Honestly, I no longer thirst for sex like a young woman in heat. I stopped allowing men to abuse my body years ago. And as I’ve grown older I want intimacy instead of acrobatic sexual encounters.
I would calmly write, after years of searching for wholeness, my age, my soul, and my spirit are now on one accord. And all the parts of me agree that I’m older and passed the desires of uncontrollable lust. Unconstrained lusts that make people do foolish things for sex! So, like I said, my friend’s suggestion, if taken, would have only complicated matters. And I’m so glad that my prayer “Lord, help me grow old gracefully” won out.
But when I didn’t take her advice on getting a younger man she came up with another plan to help me. I inwardly thought, “Does this woman ever quit giving bad advice!” because her second plan was funnier than the first. Below is the conversation between her and myself one-day:
Joyce: It looks like I’m going to have to pull out the blue boy since my hubby will be working late hours.
Me: (Inwardly Thinking) “blue boy?” (Finally asking) Joyce what the hell is a ‘blue boy?’
Joyce: It’s my toy!
Me: Your toy! You got one of them things?
Joyce: Yeh! Don’t you?
Me: Hell! No! (laughing historically)
Joyce: Well! I’m going to buy you a BIG black one when I get some monies!
Me: Oh, no! I don’t need one of those things!
Joyce: Yes, you do, little Missy!
I was so appalled that my friend would state that she was going to by me a sex toy. I thought she was overstepping her boundaries. And, regrettably, I didn’t have the nerves to tell her such. However, I did have the grit to discuss the matter with others.
After sharing the story with those in my circle I found out many of them had sex toys! OMG! What’s wrong with people! Why has society become so sex craved?!!! What ever happened to modesty?
Each found my reaction to my friends’ statement hilarious. They laughed and made jokingly comments as if I was out of touch with the birds and the bees. But I have news for them: As long as I am alive I will always have sexual thoughts. I will always want to be sexually pleased by my husband as I am pleasing to him. And if I gotta have a toy what does that say about my husband ability to satisfy me? And how will having a toy make my husband truly feel as a man? And what types of sexual deviants will I open when allowing such into my bedroom? I don’t even want to imagine what would or could happen!
Flash back moment: I just thought about that movie by Tyler Perry. Now what was the title? Hum . . . Temptation! That’s it! That movie was so true to life. I could only stand to watch it once. Once was enough for me to get the message about self-destruction being nicely wrapped in a pretty package of promiscuity and naïvety. Well any-who-how . . . The conversation that pushed me over the edge when it came to owning sex toys was with a younger family member.
Family member: You need to get you a toy.
Me: You got one of them, too?
Family member: Yeah! Don’t you?
Me: Hell, no!
Family member: You should get one. As a matter of fact mines need new batteries. I’m working on my second one! That’s all I give to brides at bridal showers.
Me: (Laughing too hard to say without chopping my sentence.) I don’t think so!
Family member: Why not?
Me: I like the real thing. Besides I would never want my kids to find such should I die.
Family member: What the hell will you care. You’re dead!
I must admit her last statement was true. I would be dead and my cares for this world would no longer be an issue. But I’m a wife to a wonderful over the road truck driver. I’m a mother of three awesome black men. I’m a step-mother to four beautiful white women. I’m a grandmother with eight grandchildren. I’m a daughter to a wonderful and lively old woman. And even though I don’t like my sister’s, I love them and respect them despite of our differences that keep us apart. I have some amazing nieces and nephews that I love as if they were my own children. I have wonderful aunts and uncles and a host of cousins I consider closer than siblings. I have an array of friends that I love like brothers and sisters. And with so much love abound I’m realizing I’m blessed! Truly blessed! And the one legacy I want to leave all that love me and all that I love is self-respect.
What I leave behind should not become a final moral issue for my family, friends, and loved ones to deal with. And more importantly I do not want my son’s to see nor neither handle such a personal item as a sex toy. The thought of them discovering such a thing makes me sick as their mom and as a woman. I know my words sound prudish but I’m not a prude by any stretch of the imagination. I just think people are jumping off the cliff of self-respect and killing themselves morally because they can’t control their sexual impulses.

A man was exploring caves by the Seashore. In one of the caves he found a canvas bag with a bunch of hardened clay balls. It was like someone had rolled clay balls and left them out in the sun to bake. They didn’t look like much, but they intrigued the man, so he took the bag out of the cave with him. As he strolled along the beach, he would throw the clay balls one at a time out into the ocean as far as he could.
He thought little about it, until he dropped one of the clay balls and it cracked open on a rock . Inside was a beautiful, precious stone!
Excited, the man started breaking open the remaining clay balls. Each contained a similar treasure. He found thousands of dollars worth of jewels in the 20 or so clay balls he had left.
Then it struck him. He had been on the beach a long time. He had thrown maybe 50 or 60 of the clay balls with their hidden treasure into the ocean waves. Instead of thousands of dollars in treasure, he could have taken home tens of thousands, but he had just thrown it away!
It’s like that with people. We look at someone, maybe even ourselves, and we see the external clay vessel. It doesn’t look like much from the outside. It isn’t always beautiful or sparkling, so we discount it.
We see that person as less important than someone more beautiful or stylish or well known or wealthy. But we have not taken the time to find the treasure hidden inside that person.
There is a treasure in each and every one of us. If we take the time to get to know that person, and if we ask God to show us that person the way He sees them, then the clay begins to peel away and the brilliant gem begins to shine forth.
May we not come to the end of our lives and find out that we have thrown away a fortune in friendships because the gems were hidden in bits of clay. May we see the people in our world as God sees them.
I am so blessed by the gems of friendship I have with you. Thank you for looking beyond my clay vessel.
Point to ponder: Appreciate every single thing you have, especially your friends. Life is too short and friends are too few!
‘Do not ask the Lord to Guide your Footsteps if you are not willing to MOVE your Feet’
Author: Unknown
As I grow in age, I value women over 40 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:A woman over 40 will never wake you in the middle of the night and ask, “What are you thinking?” She doesn’t care what you think. If a woman over 40 doesn’t want to watch the game, she doesn’t sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do, and it’s usually more interesting. Women over 40 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won’t hesitate to shoot you if they think they can get away with it. Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it’s like to be unappreciated. Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 40. Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 40 is far sexier than her younger counterpart. Older women are forthright and honest. They’ll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one. You don’t ever have to wonder where you stand with her! Yes, we praise women over 40 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it’s not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed, hot woman over 40, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year old waitress. Ladies, I apologize. For all those men who say, “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”, here’s an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage. Why? Because women realize it’s not worth buying an entire pig just to get a little sausage!
Author is unknown but this is an embellished version of “In Praise of Older Women” by Frank Kaiser
Mean Spirited PeopleThey’re born everyday! They walk among us and they seek who the can destroy. They spiritually feed off misery and the ignorance of others becomes their playground.
Some believe such people come from homes where there is no love and or where hate is taught. But that is not true! Mean-spirited people come from all walks of life. They are born to every race and every gender; and prejudice of any kind makes it harder to discover such people. For example, I learned in the circle I once traveled that all whites were bad, most if not all white men molested children, white people smell, white people have no color, white people are from the devil, and finally “all white people are rich”. And even though I know better now by understanding people are people, there are still people (white, black, blue, purple and brown) that buy into racial nonsense. And that’s the reason I’m blogging about mean people coming from all walks of life. And had it not been for my encounter this past weekend, as a black woman, with a mean-spirited white man I know I would have not come up with such a blog post; because, like I stated, had I not known about the evils of humanity or understood mean-spirited people I could see where the confrontation could have gotten out of control.
We are all fearfully and wonderfully made. We all have the ability to be bad. We all can become sexually deviant. We all have the capability to smell when we forego bathing. We all have skin pigmentation. We all have the ability to do the devil’s bidding. And not all white people are rich! People are people despite race, creed, religion, gender, and sexual orientation. What make us different spiritually when it comes to our existence are choices. Really, it’s just that simple.
People chose to be cruel. And sadly they use race, gender, sexual preferences, religion, politics and such to carry out their unkind deeds. They’ve rehearsed role-playing so much in their small minds that they seek the perfect conditions to be spirit exterminators. It’s never hard to figure out their agenda after cavy encounters. They’re usually standing/sitting with smirks of satisfactions on their faces. They are usually braggers that are empty vessels. And they try to fill their emptiness by insulting people publicly or privately as they exercise the power of choice.
Never stoop to their level. Recognize mean-spirited people for who they are [empty vessels] and remove yourself from their presence [period].