Self Love

self-love
“You’re only as beautiful as you let yourself be baby. If you can’t see the beauty in you, then how can anybody else.”

Sand rocked back in her chair then forward towards young Cynthia. She looked over her glasses deep into the girl’s eyes before saying…

“A bad man don’t love nothin’ more than a woman that can’t see the beauty in herself. Can you see the beauty in yourself?”

Cynthia shrugged and tilted her head with a shy smile on her face.

“I don’t know, I guess so?”

Sand shook her head slightly then smiled softly at the young girl. Cynthia became curious as to the woman’s thoughts.

“What. Why are you smiling at me like that?”

Sand responded joyously.

“Jesus sees the beauty in you.”

Then she nodded her head in the affirmative.

“Yes it’s true, HE loves you same as HE loves me. Jesus sees the beauty in you always so you should always see the beauty in yourself. Can you see it?”

Again Cynthia responded meekly.

“I guess so.”

Sand shook her head from side to side before taking a more stern tone with the esteem challenged girl.

“It’s time you wised up girl! It ain’t only you, you got to worry about; you got that baby to worry about too. If you can’t see the beauty in yourself right now maybe you can try seeing the beauty in that little girl. Jesus loves her too. Do you love her enough to keep her and yourself out of harms way?”

She then reached down into the carrier and picked the infant up and kissed her gently on the cheek. Sand’s words seemed to finally awaken something deep within the girl.

“I love my baby and I’m gonna take good care of her.”
“Taking good care of her don’t stop with just feeding, bathing and clothing her. You got to put her in a safe, loving home where she can grow learn and thrive. Expose her to the WORD at a young age and she will be a blessing to you in the years to come.”

Tears slowly streamed down Cynthia’s cheeks.

“But I love him Miss Sand. I love him.”
“Does he love you child? Has he even demonstrated the ability to love himself? If he can’t love his self then how can he love anybody?”

Cynthia began to sob harder and mucous dripped from her nose. Sand handed the girl a handkerchief and continued on. Her point had to be made.

“I’ve got some place for you and this baby to go. You can get out of this wicked place and start anew. Your life is only going to get better if you put Jesus and the welfare of this beautiful child first in your life. No man should ever come before that. The Lord blessed you with that pretty girl. That’s Jesus’ baby, same as your life is his and so is mine. We were put here in this place temporarily for his purpose. This is not our last stop; this is just a drop in the bucket of time. This life is a trial, a test and a trust. He’s trusted you to do good by the life he gave you to govern over in this foreign place. Heaven is our true home. Do you understand?”

Cynthia looked up at Sand now crying openly and answered.

“Yes.”

Sand continued on.

“Do you love Jesus?”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust in him?”
“Yes.”
“Well to love and trust him is to love and trust in you. Don’t ever put your trust or faith in man, only Jesus. When that boy gets out of jail you will be out of town and on to a better life.”

Cynthia’s weeping had slowed some at the mention of her beloved boyfriend.

“This is still his child too. I can’t just disappear with his child.”

Sand patted her on the shoulder before further encouraging her.

“Child if he cares he’ll come here and I’ll make sure that if he wants to send some money or a letter that I will pass it on. I don’t know if it will happen or not but if it does you can be sure that I will do exactly what I say but don’t count on me to seek him out. He got a responsibility to you and this child so he needs to be a man and live up to his responsibilities. Don’t be foolish enough to invest your energy into thinking about how he might feel about the situation because I can assure you that staying here and waiting on him would be a huge mistake. Now is your bag packed?”

Cynthia nodded her head in the affirmative.

“Good, now Chookie ‘round back ‘wit the car runnin’. C’mon and give me some sugar now and be on your way.”

Sand kissed the baby again and then put her back in her carrier. She then placed a Bible in the girl’s hands and kissed her on the forehead. Sand helped the young girl and her infant daughter into the vehicle and they were off to start a new life. Cynthia’s courageous decision led to a loving and productive child hood for her daughter, Carol, filled with laughter and serving. Loving ourselves is a blessing given us freely by our Lord. Sadly we are often too blinded by sin to accept and appreciate our blessings. Carol would later become a journalist exposing the ills of the world, while never making her father’s acquaintance. She was never blessed with the urge to seek him out. It just goes to show, God don’t make no mistakes.

Self Love

 

Addicted to Chaos!

chaos3

“Get ya’ll bad asses in this house and shut up all that damn noise in there! I’m sorry Miss Mary, I appreciate you bringin’ the boys home for me. They’re always into somethin’, wit they bad asses. I don’t know why these kids is so damn bad or where they get it from. I need ta whip they ass more.”

Tamara took a drag off her Newport and blew the smoke in the air out over Miss Mary’s head. She stepped out onto the porch next to the woman and took a seat in one of the plastic chairs.

“Please Miss Mary take a seat.”
“Thank you, but I can’t stay long; I got some neck bones in a pot on low. It’s about time to add my beans. I usually make my butter beans with a left over ham bone and scraps or some ham hock but I decided to make ‘em with neck bones this time. I ain’t done that in years.”
“You sure can cook Miss Mary.”
“Well thank you sugar. I’ll bring you down a bowl when it’s done.”

Tamara threw her cigarette butt to the red concrete porch and stomped it out. Then she sighed hard and looked to her older wiser neighbor and asked a simple question.

“How you do it Miss Mary?”
“What you mean child?”
“How you always stay calm and got three kids, two in college and one about to go to school on a football scholarship. Your husband died when your kids was young and you ain’t got no more money than everybody else around here but you stay doing good. You live good your kids do good and you always got what you need.”

Miss Mary smiled then chuckled at the young girl’s statement before responding flattered.

“Well the first thing is Jesus; trust and believe in Jesus. He’ll give you peace and help you to make wise decisions. Invest your time and energy into what’s important, your children. Show the babies love all the time ‘cause sometimes it’s tough.”

Tamara took a second to grasp exactly what Miss Mary was trying to tell her.

“Well Miss Mary it’s hard to love these bad kids I got, they take after their daddies. No matter how much I holla, scream or beat, they still gonna be bad. Just like their daddies.”

Miss Mary took a moment to choose her words carefully before replying to Tamara.

“Well if it were me the first thing I would do is stop telling them that their bad, ‘cause eventually they start to believe it. Then they start being bad. I would make sure that they had plenty of positive activities to get involved in. Things they love to do, sports, clubs, drama, karate or something. Then instead of beatin’ on ‘em you can take away their special thing until they can behave themselves. Love them; tell them how much you love them everyday and encourage them to do good in their activities. Were their daddies good or bad?”

Tamara frowned up her brow as she tried to think about each of her baby daddies’ and their personalities.

“All four of them ain’t… nothing. They all bad Miss Mary, all of ‘em.”
“Well baby if all of them are no good then don’t keep tellin’ your children that they are just like them. Don’t continue the drama in their lives. If you used to fight and argue with the fathers and the children saw it then you are teaching them the wrong love lessons. When you yell and fuss at them all the time it teaches them bad love lessons. We should want our children to learn that we show the most love and respect to family. We need to protect not hurt the people closest to us. When I say hurt I mean physically, emotionally, spiritually or mentally. Baby you gotta stop being addicted to chaos; it’s not good for you or your babies.”

Tamara smiled then giggled.

“Addicted to chaos? Miss Mary you sure got some way of talkin’ but I hear you. I do like a lot of drama; maybe it’s time to stop all that. I’m gonna start being sweeter to my kids and maybe I’ll go to church with you sometime if you’ll take me.”

Miss Mary rose from her chair with a grunt and a stretch.

“Whenever you want to go to church honey; just let me know. I’ll be here bright and early in the morning to pick you up. Well you just think about it baby, I gotta go tend to my beans. I’ll be back with a bowl when they’re done.”
“Alright Miss Mary I’ll see you when you come back and thank you again.”

Miss Mary winked and smiled at Tamara. Tamara winked and smiled back in an attempt to start being more like Miss Mary as she watched her turn and walk down the road. Tamara turned and walked inside her house to prepare dinner for her boys. She decided that night she would ask her four sons what they wanted instead of just making whatever was the easiest. She summoned them.

“Boys, what ya’ll want for dinner tonight.”

They all ran to her feet from different places in the house with different requests for dinner. Tamara stepped back from them and silently looked down into their little faces. She realized how different and special they all were. She brought joy to their little hearts when she announced that she would make each of their meals and they would all eat them together. A group hug was had then they all told her of how they loved her and how she was the best mama in the whole world. Tamara had taken the first steps towards breaking her addiction to chaos.

Addicted to Chaos!
Photo: Addicted to Chaos! “Get ya’ll bad asses in this house and shut up all that damn noise in there! I’m sorry Miss Mary, I appreciate you bringin’ the boys home for me. They’re always into somethin’, wit they bad asses. I don’t know why these kids is so damn bad or where they get it from. I need ta whip they ass more.” Tamara took a drag off her Newport and blew the smoke in the air out over Miss Mary’s head. She stepped out onto the porch next to the woman and took a seat in one of the plastic chairs. “Please Miss Mary take a seat.” “Thank you, but I can’t stay long; I got some neck bones in a pot on low. It’s about time to add my beans. I usually make my butter beans with a left over ham bone and scraps or some ham hock but I decided to make ‘em with neck bones this time. I ain’t done that in years.” “You sure can cook Miss Mary.” “Well thank you sugar. I’ll bring you down a bowl when it’s done.” Tamara threw her cigarette butt to the red concrete porch and stomped it out. Then she sighed hard and looked to her older wiser neighbor and asked a simple question. “How you do it Miss Mary?” “What you mean child?” “How you always stay calm and got three kids, two in college and one about to go to school on a football scholarship. Your husband died when your kids was young and you ain’t got no more money than everybody else around here but you stay doing good. You live good your kids do good and you always got what you need.” Miss Mary smiled then chuckled at the young girl’s statement before responding flattered. “Well the first thing is Jesus; trust and believe in Jesus. He’ll give you peace and help you to make wise decisions. Invest your time and energy into what’s important, your children. Show the babies love all the time ‘cause sometimes it’s tough.” Tamara took a second to grasp exactly what Miss Mary was trying to tell her. “Well Miss Mary it’s hard to love these bad kids I got, they take after their daddies. No matter how much I holla, scream or beat, they still gonna be bad. Just like their daddies.” Miss Mary took a moment to choose her words carefully before replying to Tamara. “Well if it were me the first thing I would do is stop telling them that their bad, ‘cause eventually they start to believe it. Then they start being bad. I would make sure that they had plenty of positive activities to get involved in. Things they love to do, sports, clubs, drama, karate or something. Then instead of beatin’ on ‘em you can take away their special thing until they can behave themselves. Love them; tell them how much you love them everyday and encourage them to do good in their activities. Were their daddies good or bad?” Tamara frowned up her brow as she tried to think about each of her baby daddies’ and their personalities. “All four of them ain’t… nothing. They all bad Miss Mary, all of ‘em.” “Well baby if all of them are no good then don’t keep tellin’ your children that they are just like them. Don’t continue the drama in their lives. If you used to fight and argue with the fathers and the children saw it then you are teaching them the wrong love lessons. When you yell and fuss at them all the time it teaches them bad love lessons. We should want our children to learn that we show the most love and respect to family. We need to protect not hurt the people closest to us. When I say hurt I mean physically, emotionally, spiritually or mentally. Baby you gotta stop being addicted to chaos; it’s not good for you or your babies.” Tamara smiled then giggled. “Addicted to chaos? Miss Mary you sure got some way of talkin’ but I hear you. I do like a lot of drama; maybe it’s time to stop all that. I’m gonna start being sweeter to my kids and maybe I’ll go to church with you sometime if you’ll take me.” Miss Mary rose from her chair with a grunt and a stretch. “Whenever you want to go to church honey; just let me know. I’ll be here bright and early in the morning to pick you up. Well you just think about it baby, I gotta go tend to my beans. I’ll be back with a bowl when they’re done.” “Alright Miss Mary I’ll see you when you come back and thank you again.” Miss Mary winked and smiled at Tamara. Tamara winked and smiled back in an attempt to start being more like Miss Mary as she watched her turn and walk down the road. Tamara turned and walked inside her house to prepare dinner for her boys. She decided that night she would ask her four sons what they wanted instead of just making whatever was the easiest. She summoned them. “Boys, what ya’ll want for dinner tonight.” They all ran to her feet from different places in the house with different requests for dinner. Tamara stepped back from them and silently looked down into their little faces. She realized how different and special they all were. She brought joy to their little hearts when she announced that she would make each of their meals and they would all eat them together. A group hug was had then they all told her of how they loved her and how she was the best mama in the whole world. Tamara had taken the first steps towards breaking her addiction to chaos. Addicted to Chaos!

 

WE DO ALL THINGS BETTER THROUGH JESUS

Cam Praise2
I have poor handwriting; I was birthed left handed but forced to learn to write with my right. I print mostly, but recently I’ve tried writing cursive in attempts to help my eight year old with her writing. I’ve gotten better but it’s still not very good. My daughter’s handwriting is much better than mine. There is one word that I can always write beautifully. Well, it’s a name actually, JESUS. When I write the name of my Lord and Saviors it looks as if it were scripted by an artist and it was, JESUS. My mother has always had challenges in the area of communication. She speaks rapidly in a repetitious manner; my mother will repeat the same word or subject three times in two sentences. Words are mispronounced and misused with reckless abandon. Well read she is not for she rarely reads but she’ll read her bible; she has to have her daily WORD from the Lord. My mother had been called to address her congregation and was terrified to do so because of her poor speech. When she stood in front of the podium that day and spoke of her love for the Lord it sounded like poetry. People were moved in the spirit by her eloquent speech on the Lord’s love and healing powers. Jesus spoke through her that day and she had never communicated more effectively in her life. She left the podium to applause and spiritual cheer. She shares scripture with me that she’s found encouraging and uplifting in her darkest hour as often as possible and for that I am grateful. I remember when Terrence couldn’t carry a tune; he got booed at talent shows in high school and was kicked out of the band he’d formed because of his poor vocals. When Terrence gave his life over to the Lord he joined his church’s choir and wore his robe with pride. He sang his heart out in the back of the choir for months and was finally noticed by the pastor and choir director. Now Terrence sings solo’s in church at least twice a month and he is always the featured vocalist whenever the choir travels to different churches or competitions to sing. When Terrence finally found a subject worth singing about the Lord let his voice flow free, JESUS. My writing, my mother’s communication, Terrence’s singing, yes we do all things better through JESUS. Is there something that you want to do? Try glorifying HIM while you do it and see just how successful you will be. Be proud of the talents you’ve been blessed with but don’t be mistaken. They are HIS talents not ours. HE has gifted and entrusted us with these talents and they are to be used for HIS purposes, not ours. Hubris narcissistic behavior is not pleasing to him and the joy your talent provides you will be short lived. Humble and appreciative we must remain as well as grateful for our talents and the opportunity to share them. Because remember… We do all things better through JESUS!

Passively Pursuing Passion

paasively pursuing passion
Patricia and Paul are friends, they get along well. Paul values Patricia and her opinions. Patricia likes Paul’s style and most importantly his pretty face and fit body. Paul has always been impressed by Patricia’s mind; he thinks she’s brilliant. Paul values Patricia’s friendship like that of no other, not even his best male friends. Patricia pined for Paul more than any other boy before. She just loved spending time with him, her friend. Whenever Paul had girl trouble, he came to Patricia. She helped him better understand the female mind. He would thank her profusely for her input giving her a hug and kiss on the cheek. She had hearts in her eyes. Paul was grateful that he could always count on his old buddy Patricia. He made her glasses steamy, she helped him to make car windows steamy. All through high school they remained neighbors and friends. Patricia was pursued by a boy or two who saw her inner beauty but she would only see them in an attempt to make Paul jealous. It never worked. He encouraged it, asking how her dates went and if she really liked the guy. He tried to give her advise on how to make her relationships successful. Patricia smiled and thanked him but didn’t really appreciate it. The whole while he would be speaking she’d want to scream out to him… “I don’t want him Paul. I love you! Say you love me too.” But she never did. Instead she stared into his eyes pretending to hang on every word while thinking how much she loved him. Every relationship Patricia had would seem to fizzle out and it would bring her joy. She was joyous because she knew that her good friend would come to console her. Patricia forced tears as she buried her head in Paul’s shoulder inhaling deeply. She loved when she got an opportunity to smell him. With every embrace she took in more of him dreaming of what could be. While trying to comfort his dear friend Paul would pat her on the back and she would pretend to not want to bother him with her problems.

“You’re always there for me Patricia. The least I can do is be there for you. What kind of best friend would I be if I weren’t there for you when you needed me most?”

She would look up with the saddest puppy dog look she could muster.

“Oh thank you Paul, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Paul started dating a girl he really liked and Patricia knew her well, too well. That pretty girl was two years Patricia’s junior and went to school with she and Paul. Paul’s new love shared more than that with Patricia she also shared her bathroom. Patricia’s little sister, now a sophomore cheerleader turned Paul’s head as she blossomed over the summer. They shared a lot of stolen moments when Patricia was being coy or pretending to be busy when Paul came over. She always wanted to make an entrance. Neither Paul or little sister Penny knew of Patricia’s feelings for Paul. Paul and Penny’s love was true and all Patricia could do was stew. Years later they would marry all the while hurt feelings Patricia would carry. Always she would wear a brave face while watching her little sister take her place. Passively Pursuing Passion… there is no receiving without askin’.

Tormenting Tyrone

tormenting-tyrone
“Come closer Tyrone, I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Really”

Tyrone said excitedly, hoping that the news he received earlier might actually be true. Tyrone nervously inched forward as his palms and armpits began to sweat.

“Closer Tyrone, what’s wrong, you scared of me?”
“No”

Tyrone said looking shyly at the ground now within range of Ella Mae when she suddenly jumped off of the porch steps and punched Tyrone as hard as she could in the gut doubling him over. She began to scold him as he sat on his knees in the dirt writhing in pain holding his midsection.

“You don’t come ‘round here talkin’ ‘bout do I like you because of what somebody done told you.”
“But Doreetha said that you did and she told me to come down here and talk wit’ cha.”
“I don’t care what Doreetha or nobody else say! You don’t come ‘round here wit that foolishness!”

Ella Mae then opened the screen door abruptly and let it slam behind her while Tyrone looked up from the ground bewildered and confused.

“Mama send Tyrone home”

Ella Mae demanded of her mother once she entered the house.

“Why, I thought you liked Tyrone?”
“I do mama but I want him to go home now.”
“If you like someone you shouldn’t treat them so bad. Stop tormentin’ Tyrone.”
“Mama, how you know I liked him anyway?”
“I overheard you telling Doreetha yesterday when you told her to tell him and then to ask him to come see you.”
“Mama, you were being sneaky.”
“No you were runnin’ yo mouth too loud. If you got a secret you keepin’, you need to speak about it quietly. If you like Tyrone so much you better stop treatin’ him so bad or he might start likin’ somebody else. Stop tormentin’ Tyrone!”

With that said; Lula Mae walked out to the front porch to shoo the pitiful little boy away.

“Tyrone, why you laying down there in the dirt son?”
“Ella Mae punched me in the stomach and this is where I landed.”
“Just ‘cause you landed there don’t mean you have to stay there. You know that girl has been treating you bad.”
“Uh hun”
“But you still come ‘round when she sends word for you.”
“Uh hun”
“You know that once you get here she gonna do something mean to you.”
“Uh hun”
“Well Tyrone ain’t you just the fool?”
“Uhh hunn!”

Tyrone said with a frown of revelation on his face; he finally saw that the girl was playing him for the fool. Lula Mae stepped down off of the porch and helped the love sick boy up while dusting him off.

“Now Tyrone you go home to yo mama, get cleaned up and have a good meal. I want you to forget about that mean ‘ol girl for awhile. Don’t you come a runnin’ down the road like a fool the next time she call for you. The next time ya’ll meet outside the school you make her walk up to yo’ house. Stop chasin’ and she’ll start chasin’ you; ya hear.”
“Yes ma’am”

Responded Tyrone with a smile and then ran along home to his mama. Lula Mae felt good about helping to even the odds between the naive young boy and her spoiled daughter. She was way too much for him at this stage in their development. Lula Mae understood the games little girls play but unfortunately, some woman grow out of childhood and into womanhood still playing the same little girl games. Ladies please stop Tormenting Tyrone!

 

Chastising Charlene

charlene
“Ronald Jenkins, I sentence you to a term of ninety-three years imprisonment in a state correctional facility to be determined by the court. What you have done sir is deplorable and you have forfeited your right to live amongst the rest of the good citizens of this community. Some of the damage you have done to these children is irreversible. You not only violated their bodies, you violated their minds and souls as well. Thirteen years and five children’s innocence have been robbed by your heinous crimes. These are precious years of childhood that these young people will never get back; you took that from them. Fear, shame, emotional and physical pain was felt by these children daily because of your acts of perversion. You sir, are a serial child molester and if I have anything to do with it you will never again see the light of day because I will see to it that someone from my office attends every parole hearing to remind the board of the despicable things you did to so many people and for how long. I pray that these children can only find some healing so that they may learn to live normal- well adjusted lives. I also pray none of them repeats the vicious cycle of abuse you have created in their lives. I am sure that where you’re going sir you will find many friends who will be very interested in you and your crimes. I am here to tell you that every society has its rules, even prison. Inmates seem to always take special interest in criminals such as yourself. I believe sir that you may be granted the opportunity to experience the same shame, pain and fear these children felt on a daily basis, enjoy.”

In the courtroom sat a weeping and visibly shaken Charlene Jackson. It would seem by her actions that she was mourning more for the loss of her man rather than the crimes that were committed against her children. Cheap makeup and eye shadow run down her cheeks as she shed more tears. She even had the audacity to call out to the Lord for His mercy and leniency for her children’s tormentor. Her actions angered the court to no end. The judge looked down on her from his bench with great contempt and loathing, odium burned in his eyes for the willingly negligent woman. He had heard enough of her cries. His detestation of the situation caused him to turn his venomous words of fury on her.

“Ms. Jackson, I wish it were in my power to charge you as well for the harm you have done your own children. These were your babies that you allowed this to happen to while you turned a blind eye and ear to what horrors they faced daily. If not for you this monster would never have been in their lives to do such revolting things to them. You have the nerve to sit here in my courtroom today and shed tears for this monster. Who shed tears all those nights that unspeakable crimes were committed against your little boys and girls, uh! Not you! Our children should always be able to look to us for guidance and protection; from you they received neither. If you can’t run to mama, who can you run to? This is the most grotesque example of child abuse and neglect that I have seen in all my years on the bench. For you to just sit by and allow this to happen for all of those years was nothing less than criminal. I’m just sorry that there isn’t a law on the books that addresses your indifference to the well being of your own children. How do you face yourself in the mirror everyday? How can you look any of your children in the eye and tell them you love them after you sat idle while their childhoods were ruined.

Was this small man that I see before me today more important to you than your own flesh and blood? Did you not hear any of their screams over the thirteen years of abuse? Did none of their cries for help reach your ears? You and I both know that not to be true. You knew exactly what was happening to your children and you ignored their pain, for years! And years! And years! Ma’am in some ways you are more monstrous than this pitiful being I see before me. You birth these children; they were gifted by God to you and instead of loving and cherishing them you allowed them daily maltreatment at the hands of another through your negligence.”

The judge’s words were cutting Charlene deep. She thought about and grieved for her children, more tears flowed. Despite her contrition towards what she allowed her children to endure, she still felt more compassion and sadness for her man who was about to be incarcerated for the remainder of his natural life. The judge sensed this and the ugliness of the situation began to overwhelm him; he had never hurt so deep after presiding over a case. The urge to hug and hold his loving wife of thirty-two years, his adult children and many grandchildren in an attempt to protect them from the world’s ills overcame him. That urge was no stronger than the one he had to do physical harm to the defendant and his passive co-conspirator or the urge to cry for victims of this atrocious crime.

He felt his emotions getting away from him so he summarized his feelings before he adjourned court. The judge gathered himself and continued on.

“What was done to these children was the most evil and wicked thing that I have ever had to encounter. I have never felt more powerless than I do now because of the law’s ineffectiveness in dealing with criminals of your nature; the ones that should do something but just don’t because it’s easier or its suits their own needs not to. You wanted this sorry individual in your life above all else. You were even willing to sacrifice your own children to him to satisfy this sick, perverted man’s fantasies. You wanted to appease him above all else, and you have. Now you have to live with the consequences of your actions or the lack there of. Charlene Jackson I pray we get laws in place to deal with people like yourself because until we do, there will be a lot of children out there with no advocate or protector and we will be powerless to assist them. I want the ability to punish all of the offenders and that especially means you! With that being said, I pray that you get your life together and come to terms with what you have done. Get counseling, for yourself and especially your children. This court now stands adjourned.”

After leaving the courtroom that day, Charlene Jackson began intense therapy and counseling for her emotional issues. After several years she was able to repair most of the relationships with her children, some weren’t so forgiving in their adult lives. Charlene would go on to be an advocate for abused women and children volunteering her time at woman’s shelters and community centers the remainder of her life. She even had the opportunity to appear before the same judge many years later in her new capacity as crusader against domestic violence and child abuse.

“Ma’am I must say it is truly wonderful to see the change that you have made in your life and I commend you for it.”
“Thank you your honor, your chastising was taken to heart.”

The two shared a knowing smile and then moved forward with the case. Ronald Jenkins received his first raping the same night he arrived at his new home with is new family. He now found himself as the prey not predator. His hazel eyes and petite frame served him well as a rape victim. He was seen as a delicacy in the joint. Later he became the victim of one of his former victims, how ironic. After years of being turned out, Ronald took up with a mate for protection. He died three years later of complications from AIDS, never having developed a personal relationship with Christ.

Chastising Charlene

My Feet Don’t Hurt No More

my feet dont hurt no more
Lord Jesus today is the day you finally answered my prayers and suddenly…
My Feet Don’t Hurt No More. As usual you didn’t come exactly when I wanted you to but of course when you came you were right on time, always on time. I thanked you for blessing me with this gift and I vowed to be responsible with it. Humbled, I allowed myself to be by this life and the hardships it had to offer. No longer am I the hubris young man constantly praising myself for the talents and abilities you provided me with. Now I use them more to serve you than myself but I still have a long way to travel. I look forward to it why? Because of you… My Feet Don’t Hurt No More. I give all the glory to you Jesus. You have allowed me this dexterity for communication through prose so that I may share my experiences, failures and triumphs with the world utilizing the morals, values and laws set forth in your WORD. I ask forgiveness for my perpetual sin as I trudge through my time in this foreign place. The journey has been long and painful but I survived only through you. Pinned down by gun fire, multiple heart attacks, knife wounds, concussions and almost crushed by a car I’ve been inflicted with or by in my young life but here I am. You’ve always shielded me. Product of an addict and a convict; neglected and abused I was but here I am. You’ve always guided me. Ridiculed by many, sufferer from malice filled misrepresentation, lied on and deceived I have been but here I am. You’ve always loved me. In my darkest hour you have always provided my needs; I never went without the essentials to sustain life. Your love being the most essential. Now that I’ve been blessed with the opportunity I’ve yearned for, for years I must march on! There is no time to be complacent but the journey will be a little easier the rest of the way because thanks to you… My Feet Don’t Hurt No More. Responsible I must be to my faith, family and familiars. I pray that you use me to be that light in the darkness so that we may all see Jesus that only your love can save us and to access it all we have to do is believe. I believe in you therefore I believe in me. To doubt my talent or ability would be to doubt you because you blessed me with this. Questioning it would be to question my faith in you. That will never happen! You are the alpha and the omega, the creator and the savior as well as the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, Jesus Christ. I love you dearly and I can’t wait to return home. I pray you guide my pen while I’m here because I will never be ungrateful as to ever stop utilizing this beautiful tool you’ve honored me with. I just wanted to say thank you for healing me and intrusting in me to lead people to you. I have no problem reaching out to them now because thanks to you Jesus… My Feet Don’t Hurt No More.