Ink to Paper Drought

 

W R I T E R S    B L O C K

 

I tried to compose whatever emotion I felt towards this semester, I could not. Things had already been said to the ones I care & speak to most, why would I need to elaborate more? The usual lessons learned, another semester passed, did not seem too important that I could find the words for it. Next.

 

I knew better than to be vague or cruel or too heart - on - my - sleeve. So I spared those who ever care to read this thing of my restless nightmares & wounded heart, due to my own hand it once seemed. I have dried those lost eyes now, & fixed them on something much more capable of handling wild things like me.

 

Then there was a more lighthearted vibe of donuts & white chicken chili. Food. Fellowship. Friends. I could share the stories of seeing my city through fresh eyes not from here & accepting the assistance in parallel parking on Euclid Ave. But of course, no words came & I again rolled over in my twin bed, surrounded by black & magenta walls my younger self compromised mom for. Defeated.

 

Read a few chapters in a book I bought for half price in Atlanta. Even watched my favorite movie. Hoping to find some sort of inspiration anywhere. Chicken scratched away more confusion, questions, & words that were much too seasoned with anger for shared growth. There was no music in those words. I was stuck... honestly I'm still kind of stuck, I am just writing about it now.

 

Maybe the constant struggle I had (have) with setting high standards for myself at a young age. Now seeing the base/mid way point to some of these hurdles (mountains) I am beginning to question the 14 year old me. Nope. Can't muster up enough humility to admit that what I chose has me sobbing in a mini van, fumbling for that dumb cell phone, to call the only person I know who mourns and celebrates like me. Or maybe when I took my best friend out for coffee (the stuff I can't have anymore cause my heart is too much of a freaking risk) And she hears the screams on the other line of a phone call. Sorry but it was hard enough to tell her what a mess this was, let alone tell the public.

 

Along with those high standards for myself - I also mess up a lot with my sisters. Both. Older & younger. Unfortunately for the younger though, she's had to deal with me everyday of her life. Gross. Family issues never really seem pleasant to write about though - so we stick to the pretty, the well groomed, well mannered, hush hush, kind of family life. Thankfully my sisters & I know how to fail miserably - but own up to those failures with grace, honesty, & a willingness to get back up again. This season of our lives we are now old enough to look each other in the face (or in some cases on the phone) & deal with things. Lay them out. Yell, cry, breathe, & hug. No, family matters couldn't be delved into just yet though.

 

Maybe if I wrote about the goodness & simplicity that was this last week? Playing house in the at home store with my best, cuddling a new puppy in a house off of E Louden, in that neighborhood I used to take hip hop class. Or playing kemps on the floor with all of the 2nd fam - new house - same full hearts. The dusting off of old records & reminiscing with my dad. Finally sending off an application that held some big moves.

 

If I wrote about the end of the year - or the coming of 2015 - I might just die now. Many people who know me, know that C H A N G E for me comes as hard as W R I T E R S   B L O C K for someone located on Oprah's book list for sure.

 

Anyway. All of this is too much for me to think about now & I won't stress myself out on not having anything to say in a poetic or learned way. There's some fresh paint tattooed on my heart & there are only 4 days left in 2014.

 

I'm praising God in this ink to paper drought & rejoicing that He isn't done writing my story just yet 

My Beat

This story started out with a beat - sometimes with a reproducible rhythm... and others, well let's just say they stuck this story in the back of the drum line it was so off beat!

 

This story is also known as mine.

 

This story came with themed music. Drums.

 

That's why this place filled with simple honest words is called, The Drums in My Heart.

 

Little did we know that a couple of scares, visits with grey haired, simple faced men, and a nurse who saw a strong young woman hold back tears because she couldn't control this, would prove that there really were drums in my heart. And that mine was special. My beat.

 

I've always been told that my heart was SO big.

 

And I have been able to get away with a few heart jokes this semester-  but since then things have gotten more real. The black outs, the racing heart, and can't hardly tell if my heart was beating days, made the story a lot more real.

 

Regardless of the unknown and hopefully soon-to-be known... I know that God made my heart. And no matter if there is a solution or more questions. I know God made my heart to do big things - after all my heart is SO big.

 

Tonight my best friends held my hands and prayed.

 

Tomorrow the story continues, and I will go through the motions in that office -

unveiling to knew faces just how special my beat is.

 

Aunt C

They tell me I've been an aunt for 17 years now... but I didn't feel like an 'aunt' until last night.
Maybe a cousin, or like a really, really, long lost older sister, to two beautiful girls.

I am the only sister that doesn't look like the rest.
And even the nieces look like my sisters more than I do.
But this week, last night to be exact. I felt like we all belonged together.
We share long, dark hair. Most of us have hints of the Cherokee skin, minus two who came from the Northern part of the country.
Blue Green eyes aren't uncommon.
Our heads are strong, and our voices are heard. Audibly and written.
Majority is tall. Majority laughs till we pee a little... we got that from Mom for sure.
We have learned more from experience and life, than the text books people have handed us.

My baby niece, who is the same age as some of our kiddos, is a giant. She has my body. My once bone straight hair. And my timid, but passionate personality when put in a room full of extroverts. She is curious. And I want to tell you about how she stole a hotel Bible.
I haven't been around long enough to tell her I am proud. Or to hug her after a competition, or watch and cheer her on in anything. But Tuesday night she showed me a Bible she took from a hotel "Only after I asked if it was ok." I was proud. And I still get teary eyed thinking about it. "I wanted to read some of it" she said. And I told her it wasn't stealing at all.
This is a big deal. That is all you need to know.
Little Rose. I am so, so very proud of you.

The oldest niece is a babe. Almost the shortest out of the bunch next in line to Grandma. She believes in love, but the love that is something you work for, and there is still a hint of Disney magic to it also. Her talents are many, and she is nothing short of vocal on what she thinks - her mom and I share that with her too.
Grown before I could be apart of her childhood - she is wise but still finds humor in everything. We have been up late the last couple of nights - until 3am actually.
Missed the first sprain, and all of the braces faze. You have a boyfriend now.
And I will break him if he gets any ideas to do you wrong!
It's hard to claim being an aunt to someone who holds a closer rank in your heart.
Ayla. Bold. Beautiful. Strong. I am so, so very proud of you.

I bought a dress. And it's not a big deal. But now that I know what it feels like to be an aunt, I don't ever want to forget it.

This day is to celebrate thankfulness. And I am thankful that even though I have "been" an aunt for 17 years. Yesterday, I got to claim it. And own it. And fully embrace what that actually looks like in real life. I am thankful for this crazy family. I have  a lot of titles - that's been said before, but I think I like this one the best. I am thankful for this city, my education, my friends, and for these two girls who see me bigger than I could ever see myself.


- Aunt C

Hello November

Surrounded by my favorite girls, all sleeping over in the big room like we would have as little girls. We watched Hocus Pocus of course, considering it was Halloween and all, but we had to be careful to not watch anything scary or the youngest and the oldest of the group would have nightmares.

All snuggled up, tuckered out from the days events. Dressing up, dancing alongside your classmates and dear friends, laughing till tears stream down your face. Halloween may not be my favorite holiday, but last night was one for the books. As I drifted off to sleep hearing quiet giggles and sleepy breathing, I couldn't help but thank Jesus for this life.

-

 

Lazy Saturday's - with my sunshine filled friend, Eve, looks a lot like getting the winter clothes out for layers - not those "Oh this is cute" layers... nah. The "we just need to survive the icy wind" layers. It also looks like brunch with a sweet bearded, gentle soul, Stephen. The grey that hangs over us is almost unnoticed. The wind is felt but doesn't keep us from enjoying a game of ultimate up the hill. School spirit is something I have never really lacked. And it wont decrease at this Bible school or in the winter. I love this place a lot more now that I can willing say it's hard to be here some days. If it was easy it wouldn't be right.

 

Eve and I made our way back to the big room got under our covers in hopes to find some sort of warmth after a few hours in the freezing November 1st weather that Knoxville has produced. I had to thank Jesus again for such good friends, ones that play on sports teams and rep Jesus no matter the score. Ones that can just be in the same room as me in silence and be ok. Friends that will let me be me, call me out when needed, and be such examples of what Jesus' love looks like.

 

I've seen what people think love is - and I'm sad about how wrong they were/are. I've seen, received, and do my best to offer love that reflects Jesus. Today - on this grey - first of the best winter months day - with Christmas music playing - and no phone to steal me away from being present - I am full of love. FULL OF IT. So thankful for last weeks battles, doubts, and discouragements. His word tells me if I keep pushing through for Him, live in excellence, and still praise His name in the hard things. I will be blessed. And I have seen that time and time again. So take heart. Do hard things. Listen to Christmas music if  you are cranky. Buy a new scarf for warmth and not style. Go out of your way to thank people for being awesome  - because you know how that made your day once - be that for someone else.

-

One day I wont wake up next to my best girl friends. Or be able to watch my friends from college play a sport they love. Or get to be lazy and young on Saturday mornings. So this is me telling myself not to waist it. Happy Saturday. Happy November. This is the season for thanksgiving. And I am so flipping thankful for my family here in this place. For a heartbeat that doesn't match anyone else's. And for weather that challenges me to find joy and warmth in others hearts. Dear almost 20 year old Chloe, live your life in thanksgiving always - not just because a Hallmark movie said to - instead do it because your Savior said to.

Overflowing

Wake up.
Overflowing.
Early mornings without coffee challenge you to be present.

Open fields wrapped up in graffiti covered walls.

Long car rides bring song, uncontrollable laughter, uncomfortable napping positions, and new sights.

Church steps littered with colors, accents, stories, and really cool shoes.

Street lights are almost more beautiful in the A.

City smells.

A memorized script followed by a sigh and lots of eyeballs searching for a homeless mans identity beyond the $4 he asked for.

Hotel beds that are too empty in a building that screams the same.

"Shopping or Business?" asked the fancy man.

Sidewalks that were taken care of - sidewalks that look like a war took place there.

No wifi. Just sky and concrete. 

4 books later - I met a lot of good people in that line. Shout out to my dude from St.Louis.

"For such a time as this"
Overflowing.

Breaking the normal by not being black, or married but I care just as much.

Worship that wasn't defined by the screen or time or voices - but your heart.

Disciples in the city. Opened homes.

Social Justice. Church planting.

Bible theology in the form of a cardigan.

Contextualization. Application.

Resources. Connections.

 Failures. Accomplishments.

Being transparent enough to say the struggle is still real.

A concert that revived my soul. Shook the floor.

And proved Sho is cooler than Crae. Oops.

I'm finna dress like the cats in atl for real.

Patterns. Colors. Layers.

 Simple is better.
Overflowing.

From NYC. to Miami. Those pastors have started a movement.

Public School is crap? Lets start our own school.

Internship in Mobile? Why not.

I shook hands this weekend with people that are out their living life among their seeds.

 Prayed with and for trailblazers. Cried for the broken.

Little boys played football in their small patch of green the project had.

All I wanted to do was join them. Adults get boring sometimes.

A thrift store that sold me triangle earrings and silk pants.

Mary Macs soul food thanks to a handsome local.

Home is found on a couch shared with my favorite boys and sister where we can pretend we didn't get old.
Overflowing.

A church body that raised me - continues to pray and challenge me.
Hugs SO many hugs on a Monday. From so many kids who used to be little.
New faces. And faces I have etched into my soul.
I saw some boys be great leaders and serve their peers food.
I saw kids helping each other with home work.
And J told us to take heart.
 I threw a football for 15 minutes and you would think I was a famous QB after the amazing work I did out there... not. Basketball will always be my sport... but I tried to keep up with my boys today.
I left with paint on my hands. Braids in my hair. And a heart that was.

 Overflowing.



Choose Joy



Listen. I' m no expert in this whole life thing - I don't get paid off of a "here is the key to life" book - I will never be good at giving advice - and I most certainly fail at a lot of things often.

 

What I do know is how to find the little things that bring joy to my heart in the worst of times. Anna used to tell me about the list that made a hard day better. Smile mediation, whipping your hair back and forth, cookies, they all made the list. I've since added things to the list. In the last two years the weather has been a huge resident on the list.

 

Rain. Sunshine. Wind. 

 

Along with movies that demand tears. Small victories like getting everything on the to do list finished on time, or when one of my kids becomes a leader on his street in the midst of turmoil. A facetime with best friends. A text message that made an impact. You get the idea.

 

Now let me be honest. Some days just suck. Some days are grey, melancholy, lonely, exhausting, and I have easily wanted them to be done before they even start - yet I refuse to live this way if I can help it. Negative vibes make me sick. Instead of focusing on the parts that make the day harder, crazier, quieter, messy, etc. I dare myself to find all the piece of glitter people miss. Like that blue triangle on the corner of our parking lot. Or claiming the hot mess and laughing about it with the people in my food line... cause they look like their day was crap too.

                                                                              -





I was in bed this afternoon - curtains drawn - quiet blues playing in the background - hard decisions and the fact I needed to study for midterms was hovering in the room - when all of a sudden my roommate and friend walk into the room ready to throw me a dose of my own theology.

 

WE PLAYED IN THE RAIN.

 

There is no better therapy session than one creation has to offer. We embraced the weather and said - today was a pretty terrible day - but it doesn't have to stay terrible! Jumping in puddles. Running through the parking lot. Laying down on the ground letting the downpour to consume me. Breathing in the air not many get to experience with their umbrellas, rushing bodies, and bad attitudes. I even did a freaking cartwheel. The weird looks from people running from class to the dorms were priceless. They wished they were having fun like us.

 

I don't stay sad very well - and I can tell you it's because this life has more joy to offer than we think. We as a people tend to choose over and over to ignore, and refuse that little things make a difference. I beg to differ.

 

Scream good morning to the people in your 7:35. Hug everyone you can. Praise God for all the good and yes, even the hard stuff, because He is there with you too. Leave your roommate a note about something only you two would understand - we can do better than basic. Call mom. Look up from your phone (unless you're near a puddle then you should be careful...) Clean your friends house because you know their busy and don't have time. You won't regret it - I never do.



 

I am not always going to be perfect at this - and it's not always acceptable to kick off your shoes and run around in the pouring rain - although I wish it was - but it is acceptable to...

 

 

Choose Joy. Always.

Thoughts On The Corner of W. Sixth & N. Limestone

Let me paint you a picture. 

Today is Saturday. I am standing on the corner of W Sixth and Limestone. The sun is shining and everyone is walking home from the farmers market or wearing blue - cheering from the many upscale or not so upscale bars - after every touch down made by our CATS. There are people with dark skin and people with milky colored skin. They are beautiful. All of them. Young ones holding hands as they sprint across the street beating the fast moving cars. The older ones walk with intention, but some with leasure. After all it's Saturday. The buildings have character and the yards are small. I walked past a public garden in an old abandoned lot. Thriving green in the city brings inspiration.

My hair isn't brushed - I managed to paint my nails around noon. No coffee -  I did order several donuts though. Happy Birthday North Lime. You are like a beacon that calls me home with your typewriter in the corner and The Jackson 5 over the radio. My Old Testament Poerty is spread out over two tables staring at me just waiting to become an exceptional paper... Ha.

I'm breathing in long and slow. I never want to forget the joy this Saturday brought me. How simple. How strong. How the boy on the bike wearing a Brooklyn jersey and beats wave to me made me feel more loved than I have in a long time. Strangers love. Maybe that says something about me. Or how the large, loud, laughing, family across the road waking parallel to me make me want a family of my own. Kids that call me mom.

When I drove through Woodhill baby J jumped in my arms without question. Funny God. I already have a family. A big one. A loud one. A laughing one. A family that goes through the good, the bad, and the ugly. Thank God for the crazy mess we are and the non matching faces who scream they love me from the playground. Sometimes being away makes us forget there are people who would scream they love us anywhere. Or maybe people do scream they love me - I just respond differently with them.
 
Last week was hard. My heart wasn't in good working order. My body was sick. And my mind was full of chaotic thoughts. So here I am. In one of my favorite places. Surrounded by broken glass on this side walk, being healed by the company and the sun. Watching time pass and never wanting this to end.  I don't hate reality. I just like this one a lot more. I didn't take pictures - I was too busy living.

One day the dream, the images, the hope of growing a city full of green life and street lights and kids will become a tangible thing for the doubters. Those doubters will look around and shrug their shoulders and exclaim "This is what she meant all along? This is beautiful."

I am thankful. I am blessed. I am broken and being put back together everyday by the lovely and challenging things around me. Sometimes it just takes driving a few miles and sitting in enough silence on W. Sixth & N. Limestone to realize those things again.