God and Wine

i started preaching on accident. and my life has been in complete chaos ever since. On a cold day in February, a colleague of mine emailed a few people asking if we wanted to preach a chapel service at Union Theological Seminary . Upon first read, I said "Hell No!" I mean like, WTF? I had never preached before in my life. Matter of fact, I started seminary telling everyone that I wasn't a preacher . I simply wasn't interested in doing ministry in that way. But there was something that whispered to my soul that brisk morning that led me to reply with a hesitant "Yes. I'll do a lil somethin' somethin." I hadn't planned on writing a homily. I thought I'd do a spoken word piece that was infused with a lil scripture here and there, maybe even squeeze in a song or two. Some kinda way my spoken word piece turned into an exegetical exploration as I fell in love with the wonders of hermenuetics more and more. It was a beautifully frightening moment...

When I was 8, I went to a cousin's wedding in Lansing, Michigan. My mom and I stayed after the wedding festivities to sight-see. One afternoon, we were walking to the public bus and it flew passed us to the bus stop, a good distance away. My mom told me to run! I took off jogging, casually. Frustrated and annoyed, I stopped running. I turned around and proclaimed that I was tired and our efforts were futile. She told me to keep running. Rolling my eyes, I took off in a light sprint and the bus driver was gracious enough to wait for us to catch up (this clearly wasn't anything like the brutal NYC transit operators who could care less about you). We winded-ly climbed on the bus and to this day, my mother uses this story to lecture me about the benefits of not giving up--of not quitting. Although my mother would never want me to stay in a toxic situation, that experience has shaped the narrative around my vigorous fight against being labeled "quitter." I'm an o...

On Sunday I quit church... for the day, at least. It was the most beautiful and painfully passionate act of self-care I've ever done.   Hi. My name is Mia, and I live with an anxiety disorder.  It's 4:30 on Sunday morning. My first alarm intrudes on the three hours of sleep I've managed to acquire. I begrudgingly assess the state of my vocal cords and decide whether or not they are well enough for me to sleep another thirty minutes. I hit snooze. Minutes later, my second alarm assaults my rem cycle. I pimp-slap my iPhone and decide whether or not I'm going to steam (a process in which I stand over a pot of boiling water for fifteen minutes to lubricate my cords). I, instead, opt for the less time consuming process of making tea, buying me an extra fifteen minutes of sleep. at 5:15, my third and final alarm goes off. I roll out of bed and into the shower. As I lather, I do minor vocal warm-ups and meditate. It's 6:05. I'm clothed, tea is made, hair is done,...

[Read Living My Best Life Pt. 6] Angela and I A Promise This past Wednesday I cried real thug tears as I hid behind opaque sunglasses in a bus terminal in upstate New York. I couldn't believe that I had gotten to this point -- somewhere between trusting God and not knowing if I'd have to hitchhike my way back to New York City. If this fast has taught me anything, it has taught me perseverance. Several times I almost backed out of this trip due to financial constraints placed upon me by the student loan gods. ( Girl, you know Sallie Mae and 'em done wiped out my savings from now until eternity. ) Last minute planning for school paired with paying off debt left me scraping for barely enough change to get from NYC to Syracuse. Now add "Living My Best Life" to that mounting pile and you can call me broke as a joke! As I waited for my connecting bus to take me from Syracuse to Auburn, I broke down and wept ... covertly, of course. I was exhausted. I wanted to qu...

[Read Living My Best Life Pt. 5] I've always loved bridges. There's something magical about their ability to carry you over troubled waters. There's something so necessary about their power to hold you up and connect you from one place to another. They give access to places you may not otherwise have access to. Or, they simply make it easier to get to the place you desire to be. I'm still processing the revelations of this evening. Today, I feel like God punched me in the face...in the nicest way possible, of course. What the hell does that have to do with bridges? I realized tonight that people can be bridges...connectors that help you get from one place to the next. My girl, Crystal, is a bridge. Tonight, I was blessed to attend an event hosted by her organization,  F.L.A.W.E.D. Inc.   that brought women of color together to chat about how to love, purpose, and spiritual gifts. I was inspired and moved and in awe of the amazing sea of melanin I was swimming...

[Read Living My Best Life Pt. 4] My first trip to Coney Island! Ever woke up super emotional and was confused about why you were so emotional? No? K. It's not the first time I've been alone in something. My morning started out weird. Perhaps, it's because I'm extremely tired and decompressing from a whirlwind week with my godson. Maybe, I had a dream that shook me but I couldn't remember what is was about (that happens often). However, I really think the reason has to do with me surrendering to my sober self--dealing with my sober feelings. Fasting is a detoxification process. It's not just about sacrifice and abstinence; it's about cleansing and purification as well. It's amazing what clearing your channels can do. There are all of these emotions that clog up our spiritual arteries that have been contributing to the deterioration of our hearts and minds. This morning, in the midst of my brief emotional breakdown, I experienced my first moment of c...

[Read Living My Best Life Pt. 3] What does #LivingMyBestLife mean?     Day 4 of Fasting... I left the house without eating...rookie mistake. Except, I'm not a rookie. I've done this before. Lack of preparation is probably the downfall of many plans/dreams/aspirations. "When we fail to prepare, we prepare to fail." Somebody mama said that once. I didn't fail, but I was severely challenged at the Bronx Zoo when I realized that all they had to offer was fried foods, burgers, and lunch meat sandwiches. Gratefully, I made it through to dinner. Also, being a parent this week to my 9-year old Godson doesn't help. It's extremely hard to fast when you have to care for little ones who aren't fasting, who don't understand fasting, who keep asking you why you're not eating chicken tenders with them, who demand meat with every meal so you end up having to cook two separate entrees. :rolls eyes: But he's worth it.  We were out and about ...