"You Have Such A Gift."

i hear words that pierce me.
staring at the lips of the person
who utters them
whilst trying to make sense
of such a profoundly overwhelming statement.

how shall i respond to such praise?
what words could i bother to muster up?
what fake expression of gratitude
could i attempt to
plaster on my face?

"you have such a gift," they say.

i struggle to make sense of such a...
compliment?
if only they knew
this gift was a burden.

i like to believe that i'm learning to
smile and say
"thank you."

there are moments when i'm successful;
but mostly, i shrug my shoulders
in a way i've perfected.
i tilt my weary-full head to the side,
as to suggest deep gratitude for
the acknowledgement--
for the affirmation--
for the chance to share these coveted gifts
that are burdens.

i often try my best to
escape the room post service--
to hastily leave my gifts at
the altar...
or the pulpit.

oh, how i wish to
disappear into thin air after saying,
"amen"--
how i wish to melt into the
cold cement after
vibrato has left my last note.

i wonder
when i'll be able to
stay in the room long enough to
stand up straight
and say
"thank you"

and mean it?

Comments

"We Thought You'd Be Next." 💍👰🏾🤪

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I was very thrilled that he finally proposed to his now fiance and that I absolutely love her. She is so sweet and brings goodness into his world. I'm so excited for them. However, during my last trip home to New Orleans, a family member was chatting with me about it and asked about my relationship, and then proceeded to say,
"I thought you'd be next." 😣
B*TCH, ME TOO! DAMN!
I did not say this aloud as I was in my father's house (#shondo #imchurchy), but everything in my body tensed up. Every hair stood up on my boiling skin and my heart began palpitating as I attempted to calmly explain why I wouldn't "be next" while simultaneously trying not to burst into tears in front of company. I started rambling about my burgeoning career--about "our" careers--and attempting to refocus the conversation while wanting to jump into the large pot of red beans simmer…

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I welcome all to my very public blog and social media pages. I don't share anything that I don't wanna share. In fact, I keep much of my life very private, for my safety and sanity. I write my story because it's healing--because it's freeing. I open the world to some of the most intimate moments of my life because I know that vulnerability is contagious--that transformation is not to be hoarded b…

How My Mom Made Me A Preacher

When I was a kid, I used to travel with my mom to Toastmasters conferences. I went to Baton Rouge, Lafeyette, Atlanta, DC, Florida, down the street from the house, up the street from her job, everywhere. I heard some of the world's greatest speakers. I sat in many executive meetings (because my mom didn't wanna leave me in hotel rooms by myself...she watches too much Law and Order) and I behaved quietly, pretending to doodle but really eavesdropping on conversations regarding new judging procedures and managing leadership conflict (yes, grown people cat-fight🙀). I was present for speaking competitions that my mother judged, training seminars that my mother presented, and galas that I attended with my mother as her young, but show-stealingly adorable, date.👧🏽
And of course, my mother took Toastmasters home with her. Whenever I had to speak in church or prepare a speech for class, she mentored me. She made sure I had a bomb 💣acronym (she's obsessed with corny acronyms)…

God and Wine

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