Broken Mirrors

The problem is that our view of ourselves and our sense of worth are often determined by the input and opinions of others. We have lived our lives and defined who we are chained and attached to prison bars because we have accepted what broken mirrors have said about us.

Often times the people that we have listened to is looking through shaded glasses and defective lenses, their vision is distorted and blurred. Their input and opinions puts us in chains and we now become associated with bondage. We end up looking into broken mirrors and having our hopes become shattered dreams, we draw false conclusions about ourselves. We must realize that how we see our lives are not really seen through broken mirrors but by broken minds.

I throw no stones when I publish or post my blogs, because in some way we are all broken, we have all looked into broken mirrors and have had our hopes and dreams shattered. There are many reasons for us all to have been broken, past abuse, addictions, damaged relationships, wounded spirits and broken hearts, and just plain bitterness and anger. In my own broken mirror, the vivid reflection I see looking back at me is the reflection of loss, failure, and heartbreak, but I also see hope and happiness, faith and redemption.

When we look at our lives through what we see as broken mirrors we see cracks and shards, disfigured images, afraid to touch it because we fear the damages that the sharp edges may do to our skin that has already been maimed and bruised, cut and scarred.

No matter how we think about trying to salvage what’s left of the shared pieces we fail, we are unable to repair what’s been broken, no amount of self-applied glue can hold together the edges, there are going to be missing pieces and pieces that are mis-fitted. We must come to realize that there is only one who can repair and replace the cracks in our mirrors.  When we see our lives in the broken glass of our mirrors we see it as worthless, un-useable, un-repairable and we are ready to toss our life into the garbage. Oh but you see when God looks at our broken mirrors He sees worth and opportunity, he sees what his perfect love can perfect in us. He sees our pain that his perfect healing can replace.

He is the only one that can replace the broken pieces with his infallible love. And when he gets through mending and repairing and replacing it is then that we can take that step up to that mirror and finally realize the greatness of an omniscient and omnipotent God and look at ourselves through the lenses of a magnificent God. Suddenly our reflections are no longer distorted and blurred we see no cracked lines and images; we see only beauty, healing, and hope. We see ourselves as amazing created by an amazing God who made us in his image, not the cracked images that others want us to see. You see God gathered up the pieces of our broken mirrors no matter how deep they cut into his flesh he never gave up, he never complained about the blood that dripped from his brokenness, to repair our brokenness. His shed blood covered our broken glass, shard by shard and cutting edge by edge. He brought life to those broken pieces, they began to fit together bound by his blood and his amazing love. We no longer have to get tired of looking at a broken reflection in a cracked mirror. So when someone comes along with their shaded and blurred lenses, and tries to remind us of our broken mirrors, let’s just reflect on his word Psalm 34:18 ~ The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Although others may want us to continue to look into cracked and distorted mirrors, our vision is greater than theirs, our repaired and replaced mirrors reflect who we are and whose we are, because He tells us in his word; Matthew 5:2-12  ~And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied. Love you all to Life, until next time be Blessed!!! ~~Indigokiss~~

 

 

TRUTH OR CONSEQUENCES

 

Once again I found myself sitting at my desk at 5:30 am Thursday morning, wondering what in the world is wrong with me. It’s quiet all around me, the house is dark and still the only light that penetrates my thoughts is the office light. As I lean back in my chair I can only try and imagine what would have me up at this crazy time of the morning. I look at the pile of bills that lay on my desk waiting to be opened and I just push them aside, I stare at the ceiling for a few moments with a blank stare. I remember tossing and turning , pushing the covers off then pulling them back on again, the sound of the hubby snoring, I realize is not what woke me up, but the words Identity……… Truth…….. One word I heard over and over again was Courage.  Courage to step up; courage to believe God is in the hard places; courage to be obedient; courage to accept God's calling on my life; courage to say "yes" Courage to know the truth, tell the truth and accept the truth. Courage to know what my true identity was and is, the courage to understand truth or consequences. My thoughts go back to the game show Truth or Consequences, where people were invited from the audience to perform different outrageous, crazy messy stunts, because they could not answer the question correctly before the buzzer buzzed. Do you remember that? And the Truth or Consequences logo had a little halo over the word truth and there was a devil’s fork running up through the word Consequences. Bob Baker would end the show with, “May all your consequences be happy ones!”

My life was just like that game show, and some of the consequences were not happy ones. My life; just like the game show was about choosing the right drawer to find the right bonus prize. I think about all the times I came away with what I thought was a prize or a bonus, one sided relationships, un-healthy relationships, baggage that was not even mine, scars and bruises. I was worn out, worn down, beaten, and I saw myself as damaged goods. I was reliving my identity all over again, the identity of who I use to be and what I use to identify with, I was facing the truth of my past once again. I remember not wanting my life to be an open book because it was so banged up, I lived in fear of others judging me, pointing fingers and branding me. The consequences of my past were not happy ones, but they were surely markers and road maps that I had used when I traveled.  I traveled into uncharted waters and lands, relationships that were really not meant as a journey for me, but blind and hard headed like a wayward disobedient child I still played the game of Truth or Consequences. There were no bonuses or grand prizes, but a lot of tears and heart ache and pain. I had to wonder okay Lord why am I revisiting my past………. Quietly I listen for a response …………….. I hear nothing………..okay Lord I’m waiting here………………………….still nothing…………………………..then I heard Him!!!......................... GRACED LACED!! Graced Laced? Okay Lord I don’t understand, it’s 5:30 am and your daughters brain is in slow mode. I heard it again………………………………..Grace Laced! The things that must be addressed in your life seem much bigger than your time or energy……or your faith, there is but one choice TRUST Me, choose the truth and not the consequences. Little did I know the enemy was about to rear his ugly head, it was not that God was making me relive my past; it was that He was giving me a heads up on the enemy. And sure enough as daylight came so did the tricks of the enemy. He made me think that my present identity was farce, then the question started to flood in, who are you, are you really saved, really a child of God, do people really know the real you? Remember your first marriage, you claimed then you were a child of your God, but he failed you because your marriage failed, remember when your son was murdered, and you asked your God why and He never gave you an answer, did you get that answer yet?

Ahhhhh wait ….wait so called child of God, remember when you were suicidal, and you had a nervous breakdown, and family thought you were too crazy to be around, and they all talked about you? Ha ha remember when I had you on the run from your identity, and you left town to try and find yourself, did you? And better yet, remember when I made you believe that you were always alone because God left you alone by taking, your mother, and both brothers and your children were prodigal? Remember when I influenced you and them and your ex-husband to turn against each other, and your relationship with them were estranged, or how about this one, how about the time you were sexually molested by two family members? So you so called daughter of a King what is your identity, are you foolish like Job, though He slay you yet you trust Him? Whose spirit do you carry? And I will not lie a sense of fear rose up in me and for a moment I did feel all of those things the enemy combatted me with, I began to cry for a moment I felt defenseless, defenseless against things I could not see, against old drama, baggage hurts and pain, indiscretions, damaged relationships, Truth or Consequences. By now I’m crying like a baby and praying my husband do not come down to go to the bathroom, because I’m a wreck. And then it came to me TRUTH…………..GRACE LACED………..TRUST HIM……………….IDENTITY…………….COURAGE………COURAGE…...COURAGE!!!! After praying I felt a release in my spirit a reassurance of my identity, I know the truth, I trust Him, and I do have the courage to face the things in my life that must be addressed, even if it is past mistakes that keep popping up to make my faith and belief wavier. Prayer changes things, and scripture solidifies who you are and what spirit you carry, God is amazing and he has this amazing way of talking to me through scripture even when I think that he is not hearing me. I randomly opened my Bible that morning to the book of Romans and as reassuring daddy reassures His daughter that she is most defiantly a real daddy’s girl He spoke: For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” Romans 8:14-15. Now I understand GRACE LACED! I am so laced in his graced, because of the deliverance that it brings about, and because I did cry out Abba Father, I do not have to suffer the consequences of bondage, and fear, I do not have to think about the banged up life I use to identify with, It’s not who I am. Because I am GRACE LACED. I have mended relationships with my children and some family members. I am not so alone because I have a husband who goes out of his way, to remind me, to prove, to show and to cover me that my identity does not identify with my past and past people. And through all of this I have come to the conclusion that the only consequences of not trusting my father God is a life filled debauchery, broken dreams, heart ache and yes death, and the real beauty of my TRUTH or CONSEQUENCES is that I am forgiven for my past, and that in my present identity there are bonus prizes and grand prizes, the greatest prize and bonus is I know where I will spend eternity, because I am a  daughter of a King, my prize is an identity that says blessed, delivered healed, loved, alive, and redeemed, peculiar, amazing, gifted, I could keep naming some bonuses and prizes, but there is so much more to my journey that my now TRUTH or CONSEQUENCES are sweet , and in my best Bob Barker voice”” May all my consequences be happy ones””………………………………………..THEY ARE!!!  ~Indigokiss~

                  

 

 

Vines-of-Life: WHY ME LORD ? (Grace).

Vines-of-Life: WHY ME LORD ? (Grace).: Its 5:00 am Tuesday morning, I stand in the middle of my living room, taking in the blessings that surround me. I look down at the hard...

WHY ME LORD ? (Grace).

Its 5:00 am Tuesday morning, I stand in the middle of my living room, taking in the blessings that surround me. I look down at the hardwood floor of rich maple coloring that I keep so brightly polished. It’s getting chilly here this time of year, so I gaze at the fireplace with its colors of amber and orange, that reflects the fall season I took into view the pretty purple pants and sweater that I kept desperately looking for in my size at Wal-Mart until Walla!!! I found them, and I thought to myself “WHY ME LORD”? Sometimes I reflect on the past, my past. And I forget to see myself as art work, Gods art work. Then he had to gently remind me, your identity is not bound up in what you have, how you look or what you wear.

I keep reflecting on all of the women who I thought were true ride or die sisters, the ones who I kicked it with, because I thought they had my best interest at heart, or that they really did understand me and what I had been through. The ones who I truly loved as sisters of the heart, the ones who dressed to impress when ever we had girl’s night out, and I would think to myself Wow, I’m underdressed. And once gain he gently, I created you, can’t you see that you should see yourself as confident in your identity. Do not compare the inside of yourself with the outside of another woman. Grace is that dress makes you look amazing. I had to think about it, “I’ve been in dark places. I've worn the shabby, torn garments of sin. And then something came for me by Special Delivery! I remember tearing into it like a mad woman, Ahhh and there it was! The perfect size, the perfect garment and it was beautiful, and there was a little card attached that said . . . Paid in full. Nothing is due. I love you, God. And I realized that this particular garment was Grace tailor-made just for me. Sometimes we look around us and think about the past and how we were chained to it, all of our brokenness, the excessive baggage we carried, loaded down with other peoples junk and garbage, and we as ourselves WHY ME LORD? Perhaps it is because he see’s something in us that we cannot see in ourselves. He see’s the greatness, the strength, the wisdom; he sees the faith, the hope and love that is so embedded in our hearts. He has given us Beauty for Ashes. Perhaps we should stop wondering if we are good enough, or if we are acceptable, remember we had that special package delivered GRACE! And we wear it well. Lets embrace our beautiful garment, it’s the right size the right fit, we are his art work, splashed on a canvass of brilliant colors, colors of happiness, and joy, colors that identify us as royalty, that brilliant bold Purple, hues that give life and meaning to all that we are as women of God. We soar above the drama that is presented to us, on our jobs in our relationships, our marriages, our families and yes our friends, or at least those who we think of as friends. But just remember God has shaped us in his image, pressed into beauty and destined for greater, emboldened and embodied with the personifications of Queens. We ask WHY ME LORD? And he replies WHY NOT? ~Indigokiss~

Inspiration

 

            

When I think about inspiration, I sometimes wonder where do people look, where do you turn? And I have to remind myself that as women some of our greatest inspiration comes from the women who have walked in our shoes. Why? Because they are the ones who can truly understand us. It is those women who can point us in the right direction, those who have stood for what they believe in fought to maintain their dignity and womanhood and have succeeded despite the odds that were against them.

Inspiration, where do we look and who do we look to? We look to those women who are so like ourselves, mirror images of all the struggles that we like them have faced. Those women that are so like us, and us like them fight the outside forces that would like to keep us oppressed so that we may stay depressed, depressed because of failed marriages and relationships. Oppressed and depressed because we can't find the person to love us for who we are and not because of what we can do for them. There are no magic makeovers and quick fixes that can patch up the holes that we have in our hearts leaving open sores and gaping wounds that bleed the very essence of who we are as women.

The outside world and those who are not so like us, would like to keep us on a leash to be at each other’s throat, going for the jugular vein, in hopes that we will not support one another, that we will keep hating on one another, that I will not see you as a woman of substance as you see me. Outside forces that say settle for whatever floats your boat, I think not! I see you as you see me, woman, sister, struggle, loved empowered, where do I go for inspiration, who I look to, my sisters.

Why do we as sisters and women have to be the Celie’s fighting the Albert's of this world?

Albert: Who you think you is? You can’t curse nobody. Look at you. You’re black, you’re poor, you’re ugly, you’re a woman, you’re nothing at all!

Celie: Until you do right by me, everything you even think about gonna fail!

Albert: I’ma knock you under…

Celie: Everything you done to me, you already done to you. I’m poor, I’m black, I may even be ugly, but, dear God, I’m here, I’m here!

Why can’t we just tell each other I’m here? Just like Celie we have to know that there is no shame in womanhood, no matter if the world see’s us as black and ugly, Know that we are BEAUTIFUL inside and out! Nobody can put us in heaven or hell. Inspiration where do we find it and who do we look to, we look to each other, sisters. Call me old school, but friendship and Sisterhoods are not maintained because there’s a long history of support, confidences shared, and mutual admiration. Sisterhoods and friendships are more importantly because it has withstood the test of time and misunderstandings, disagreements, bruised feelings, and make-ups, laughter, tears, encouraging and empowering each other as women. Telling each other girl we gonna do this; we can make it I have your back. I have found inspiration in my circle of cyber sisters and friends, TRUE REAL women who have known struggle, understand struggle and support other women in their struggle. So I say to my sister’s stay focused, press forward, stay encouraged, and wear your heels high and your expectations higher. let the Albert's of this world keep swatting the flies, sitting on the front porch rocking, because we are the strong Celie's of the world, we may be all that the Albert's wish we were, but Dear God we are here. We are here! I Got Your Back!!

~Indigokiss~

 

 

The Angry Black Woman!!

 

Every black woman I know has had to battle with wearing the breast plated stereotype of her being labeled as the angry black woman. The connotations that we are unreasonable, outspoken the first one to raise hell and uncontrollable. It has been said that we are too emotional and become unhinged at the mere thought of everything and everyone that cross us wrong.

The stigmatism takes no account whatsoever of the possibility that our anger might be justified, and that something’s and some people are so deserving of a black woman’s anger. We are expected to swallow the bitter pill of daily insults to our gender with vulgar words, the insult of being demoralized, victimized and yes even hated. And you say that we are angry! It is said that as black women we don’t wear anger well, it doesn’t look good on us. I have known black women that have risked sanity to hide their anger, and I will be the first to get in line on that note. We risk nervous break downs and carry baggage instead of yelling “back off, right now and I mean it “. Wooosa!!
I am willing to be the first to admit now that I wasted a lot of years’ time and energy in the past being angry. It’s taken a lot of years for me to accept the fact that I’m one of those women who loves hard and feels deeply. Which I finally realized that both are a blessing and a curse. It took me quite a bit of time to figure out that anger is a gift from God.  I soon realized that anger helped me to set boundaries for myself, and put limits on those who cross those boundaries. And in my realization of that I learned how to contain my anger, and aim my anger. I am ashamed to say that I have not always aimed my anger at the right target in the past. I didn’t have to pull out my bow and arrow and hit every moving target that got in my way, are spit fire whenever someone said something dumb and stupid.
There were times when I should have taken the time to heal and grieve, cry, wipe my tears and keep it moving. Instead I developed an Indiana Jones complex of cracking the whip, throwing knives and darts. I should have sat quietly and patiently in solidarity, looking deep within the woman God created, understanding His purpose and His will for my life. I should have looked for the clarity that I needed to fight and survive the fight and come out stronger and wiser than I was before the fight. Anger is supposed to make you want to do something about the craziness and wrong all around you.  The world thinks that it’s an easy job just being a woman, let alone a black woman. Main stream media and television likes to attach the angry black woman, to every black woman. We are not the Aunt Esther’s Bible-toting angry black woman on "Sanford and Son." Or Madea, who carries (peace) Piece in her pocketbook. Pass the popcorn and a tissue please.
Why must we be labeled Nene, the finger-waving, all in-your-face loudmouth hellion on “The Real Housewives of Atlanta? Why should we be defined as having the starring role in I Can Do Bad All By myself, or Diary of a Mad Black Woman, more tissue and more popcorn please? Why do we have to be labeled angry black woman, why can’t we just live in the light of Tupac’s words ““Keep Ya Head Up ““And since we all came from a woman Got our name from a woman and our game from a woman I wonder why we take from our women Why we rape our women, do we hate our women? I think it’s time to kill for our women Time to heal our women, be real to our women”. Now let’s bob our heads and wave our fingers at that. And in the true light of things, when we are still labeled Angry Black Woman, let’s just keep calm, make sure we hit the right targets, and perhaps, just perhaps that’s what the Bible means when it says, “Be angry, but sin not.” Aim with precision. Ha I ‘ain’t mad at Ya!
~Indigokiss~