On Answering

I love any and all shows having to do with history in a broad sense, or, more specifically, the stories of people’s lives. I really love genealogy shows, for this reason, and was recently watching an episode of Finding Your Roots.

While finding out her family’s slavery background, African-American guest, Donna Brazile, recollected what her mother had told her as she was growing up in the volatile racial climate of the south.

“Donna, you remember that it’s not what they call you, it’s what you answer to.”

Obviously, Donna headed her mother’s advice, as she grew up to be the first African-American to manage a presidential campaign, and is now a veteran political strategist. While others may have called her names because of the color of her skin, she chose not to answer.

I have not been called names based on my skin color, but I am called by other names besides Melinda. Honey, Mom, Mimmie, Mrs. Garman, Ma’am; I answer to them all, and proudly. However, there are other names that I’m called in the confines of my own head that no one else hears. These names are whispered, sometimes by me, but mostly by the enemy of my soul. Stupid, Unworthy, Unlovable, Fat, Ridiculous, and on and on and on. And sometimes I’ve been known to answer.

I know I’m not alone here. My enemy is your enemy, too. He never shuts up, spewing venom like the snake he is, and when we start answering to his names, it pulls us further and further from the path God has us on, to the point where hearing God’s calls becomes a little more difficult. Yes, our enemy is relentless in his pursuit, but you know what?

So is God.

And He never sleeps.

Calling out an exquisite symphony of names, His melody floats on the air of our souls.

Chosen.

Redeemed.

Forgiven.

Beautiful.

LOVED.

Perhaps today is the day to tune your ears in a different direction and listen to the LOVER of your soul, and then ACT. Because, remember, it’s not what you’re called, it’s what you answer to.

Screen Shot 2016-02-05 at 8.06.38 AM

 

 

Memories of my Granny

IMG_5374

  I remember her sitting in her red chair, feet propped up on its ottoman, where she would beckon me to sit. She let me try on some of her nightgowns, and since she was often in some sort of lounge wear in her last years, we would sit together, matching, and she would talk…

I Can’t Get No Satisfaction

  Target. For mommies (and grandmommies), it’s the land of bright and cheery aisles, fun and affordable style, and the Dollar Aisle. For kiddos, it’s the land of the free cookie. Well, at least for one kiddo I know. Brody likes to go to Target for that one reason. When I told him we were…

Obscurity

  This weekend, I cleaned out two jam-packed closets, all of my bathroom drawers and cabinets, and my pantry. From them, I took out four big trash bags of garbage, and four more bags and a box for charity. It’s so amazing to me how much stuff I let pile up. More amazing, though, is…

His Words for When You Can’t Seem to Let Go

I was talking to a friend recently who is really struggling with some control issues. She knows in her heart that she’s basically trying manage a herd of cats, holding onto things over which she has no control at all, but she can’t seem to let go. I don’t know about you, but it happens…