White Boys & D'Angelo

     

     Sooooooo, this post is mostly written for Tiffany, Cousin Brandi, Toya, and Tia. But I do hope you enjoy reading it as well. xo

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     So apparently, my most popular board on Pinterest is my "The Land of Milk and Honey" board.

     I never really set out to start an interracial love story board per se. I just started "pinning" images that struck a chord with my heart. And before I knew it, most of these images of what I considered beautiful love and a reflection of the type of love story I wanted to have, happen to be images of Black women with White men.

     I remember being in high school, and having a crush on this White guy named....Let's call him "Billy".  I was bold and brazen even back then. And I told Billy through a serious of random classroom notes (The era of pre-cell phone texting...) I happened to have a crush on him.

     And what did our precious Billy say to me. Or rather to a friend of mine. "I believe mixing races is wrong. So that's that." And that ladies and gentlemen, was the end of that crush.

     But unbeknownst to me a weird seed of self-hatred and insecurity nicely nuzzled itself into the deep crevices of my heart.

     I had an almost idealistic upbringing and an amazing schooling experience with almost every nation represented. My mom used to call my friendship circle: The United Colors of Benetton. But I had never encountered blatant racism in such a way until that fateful day with Billy.

     Now, today we see an array of beautiful interracial couples, but that was not the case when I was in high school. And the thought of a Black girl being with a White guy seemed rare and unattractive to many.

     It wasn't until I went to Paris in 2000 with one of my best friends, that my mind was blown. I was seeing interracial couples everywhere! It was like an interracial utopia made up of so many different races. But what was really blowing my mind was that I was seeing so many different types of beautiful Black women with a variety of White French men. I was convinced I wanted to move to Paris for that reason alone.

      Because you see, it spoke to something deep in my identity. And it brought healing in the most unexpected way. I felt validated somehow.

     I've always been attracted to a variety of men, but those that I'm most drawn to and seem to have the most in common with happen to be White.

     And so, when I started this board on Pinterest, I treated it like a vision board and didn't take much thought to what I was pinning, I just wanted it to flow and be fun...until a Black lady friend of mine said,  "I love your milk and honey board! It's for girls like us right? For those of us who love White boys."

     And without skipping a beat and honestly with complete contrast to every other intention I wanted to mention, I simply said, "Yep. Yes it is."

     At first, I couldn't believe what came out of my mouth. For some reason, I felt a little ashamed and a little confused. Like I somehow exposed a secret too soon. Because my mind hadn't caught up with my heart until that point.

     But then I realized what I had been doing all along, in a bit of subconscious way. Thus, I decided to own it fully via my Pinterest page. And I'm glad I did.

     So years after my high school experience with "Billy", there are tons of blogs, Tumblr pages, dating sites, websites, and Pinterest pages that strictly focus on relationships between Black women and White men. And how beautiful people think that they are. And I find it all quite fascinating, especially the fact that my own little Pinterest page is just one of hundreds.

     So just recently, within the last month, I started Netflexxing (It means what you think it means) the show, "Hart of Dixie". Long story short, it's MY NEW JAM. (And for those die hard "Hart of Dixie" fans, yes, I'm late to the party, I know.)

     The premise: "New Yorker and new doctor Zoe Hart accepts an offer from a stranger, Dr. Harley Wilkes, to work in his medical practice in Bluebell, Alabama. She arrives to find he has died and left half the practice to her in his will." - credit: imdb.com

     And I was just minding my business, you know, watching the show when character, Wade Kinsella has a new arc in his story line and I was like, um, Hi-hello. Who are you?? Why have I never seen you before, like really seen you?!

     The actor who plays Wade, is none other than: Wilson Bethel

   


     Yes. Let's pause for a moment of silence.

     According to my stalkery research he was also on some other prominent shows, but I had no idea who he was until last month.

     Side note: Nothing gets me more in life than a guy that listens to 90s R&B, dances like a thug, has good shoe game, uses the word unequivocally correctly, and/or can quote something from the movie "Coming to America".  And if this guy happens to be White...Uh-ohhh.

     So during that night of "research" on Wilson Bethel, I came across this old tweet:



     Wait. I'm sorry what? Did you just say D'Angelo?

     Nope. I Cannot.

     Everything about that tweet was just next level. Tiffany, Brandi, Toya and Tia know exactly what I mean.

   When I started this post, I was simply going to state the discovery of Wilson's amazing taste in music. But instead, like my writing often does, I ended up taking a major detour and giving you some backstory on my life.

     But at the end of the day, if you take anything from this post, it's this: Be brave in matters of love. Let the past go. And be willing to start fresh, to take risks, and to learn from your failures.

     And in the end, if someone rejects you, we all know it's their loss.

     But again, I urge you, be brave in love, just one more time. Your love story and life journey may look differently than you thought it could or would. But be brave.

     And of course, you can't always judge a book by its cover. People can still surprise you....even in the very best of ways...



     Wisdom's Knocking:

“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.”

- e.e. cummings




   



   D'Angelo Video Link:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAfuUZRou7g





   




You Have a Tenderness Within You

     


     Like you, I often find myself wandering the open seas of the internet--you know, just because.

     But in my wandering, or as I liked to call it, my unintentional searching, I always seem to stumble upon some underplayed, yet life changing gold of sorts.

     It's that moment when you think to yourself: how did I previously live without ever reading, seeing, or hearing this very gem of culture and life?!

     And so it happened one fateful day, in my mindless internet behavior I came across images taken by the photographer, Rog Walker and I was moved.

     Subsequently, I've been holding his images like a feather--or rather like a single lone, loose diamond in my clammy right hand.

     I wasn't ready to share, not just yet.

     But then words came to my spirit earlier this week. Words meant only for you. And the only images that I wanted to marry to these words, were the images and photography of Rog Walker.

     So I reached out to Rog, for both our sakes. "Our" meaning you dear reader and myself. So that we might learn something much more significant about ourselves in the days ahead.

     And yes, I also reached out to Rog to honor the man. I didn't want to merely strip images from a website. I wanted him to know that I would tread far more lightly, like one dancing the waltz--gliding with precision and humility.

     So it goes. He appeared even more lovely than I could have ever imagined via our brief email exchange. And he has granted me permission to share his images with you.

     Thank you for indulging me in this small preface. But it was important to me.





But now, I want to remind you of something.

Something that you may have forgotten.




You may have just forgotten.

Or you may not even remember when you have forgotten.

But nevertheless, it has been forgotten.




You have a beautiful tenderness within you.

You still possess fire.



You still take someone's breath away.

You, yes you, are still loveable.

I don't know why and when everything had to get so complicated.



Growing up is so hard to do.

But you are becoming.

She is becoming.

He is becoming.


We are becoming.

Don't let the hardness of the way, make you cold and bitter and hard.



Open yourself up.

Let that tenderness seep through the cracks of your eyes and your skin and your ears.

You were once full of childlike laughter.

But somehow you've been robbed.



Even so, you know what.

I was once robbed, but someone literally mailed my stolen wallet back to me.

This is a true story.

So your heart won't be lost for long.

Your heart will not remain broken.

I can dream for the both of us tonight.



And I'll believe--I'll believe that the tenderness within you will be met with great affection, adoration, and adulation.

Because you are...so much more than you know.





Wisdom's Knocking: 

It is not tenderness that makes you weak, 
but rather bitterness that makes you brittle.








Photo Credit: Rog Walker



Tantrum

     

   
     I was at a wedding and saw this girl act so incredibly rude and a bit stank.

     Most people shrugged it off, but I was amazed that someone had the cojones to be so bold about their own wants and complaints during someone else's big day.

     For some reason her own pain was causing her to implode and say and do things that were just down right rude.

     For a moment, I was like, "Um, you do realize you said that out loud, right?...You do realize we are at a wedding, like where other people can hear you? And you do know that this is not your wedding?"

     Our immaturity and tantrums are often coddled by our fair-weather friends, yet challenged by our real friends and family.

     And then we either decide to ignore them or isolate ourselves so we don't have people "Telling us what to do."

     Newsflash: They're not simply trying to tell you what to do, but rather, how to be a kind and tolerable human being we actually want to be around and can trust.

     Do we realize how ugly and unattractive we look as human beings when we throw tantrums.

     I mean, it's funny/annoying when a 2 year old does it. But now imagine how you look...

     You do know that you're not the only one who has ever gone through rejection, pain, and disappointment.

     And yet, some people learn to go through these valleys in the Gene Kelly way:




     And then some people develop a habit of going through the valleys the Ratchet-Sheneneh way:





     If I'm honest, my current tantrum rating is somewhere in the middle...


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     My response to rude girls and boys that throw tantrums at other peoples weddings, parties, graduations, and other outings in public:  Don't be a selfish son of a ........hurting person.

     If you are known to throw adult tantrums on the regular, let me help you out.

     Because soon, no one is going to want to be around you. And then you'll be surrounded by fake friends and wonder where the heck all your real friends went and how your life spiraled...

     When you feel a tantrum coming on in a public setting:

     Be big enough to first hush your mouth. Stop spewing garbage. And go take a breather. If someone asks what's wrong, just let them know (Without attitude, thank you very much) that you needed to take a little bit of a breather, but you'll be fine.

     If you're in the presence of a true trusted friend, be vulnerable and tell them what's really irking you. Is it that fact that you've been wanting to be married all your life, and the one friend who vowed they'd never get married or didn't care if they did, is now married and in a blissful state of existence and you find yourself hurt--worse than hurt...somehow betrayed.

      I know. I get it. Please believe.

     But being a in a tantrum isn't going to change anything for you.

     Choosing to be kind and forgiving towards yourself and others will change things, and inevitably help in an effort to be kind and relatable to those around you.

    And lastly, sometimes you just need to laugh about it.

    Don't take yourself so seriously. And when you find yourself on the verge of having a tantrum, just know, that this too shall pass.

    Plus, laughing about it all is a much hotter look than that of the tantrum.

    Little redirected moments like this help us learn how to be kind and thoughtful human beings.


      To the girl at that wedding: I understand. Your moment of selfishness and pain blinded you. Nevertheless, your tantrum was stupid. But thank you for giving me good blog material. xo





Wisdom's Knocking:

“Temper tantrums, however fun they may be to throw,
rarely solve whatever problem is causing them.” 

-- Lemony Snicket, Horseradish

In Hiding





     We try so hard to fake the funk.

     We want to give the constant illusion that we're okay, even though something is rumbling and wrestling within our skin, right underneath the surface.

     And then we snap at the most inopportune times.

     I could feel myself wanting to hide. I'm in a season of transition, and I have a feeling many of you are too.

     With that said, I've made the choice to transition out of youth ministry in the summer of 2015. This was in no way a result of any drama going down at my church or me being tired of teenagers. In fact there were many tears shed on my part to even consider such a move--such a transition.

     The decision was made in love. Because you see, I wasn't running from something, but rather running towards something.

     I'm pretty vocal about the fact that I'm about being married and having a family one day. And I knew, the pace of life that I was living wasn't going to leave room for either marriage or family to truly exist and thrive in my life.

     It's becoming clearer and clearer to me that one of my main callings in life is to cultivate family. That's why I love pastoring. Because I get to be a mama every week and love young thirsty hearts with God's love.

     Therefore, my heart is always to pastor, it will just take on a different form in the seasons to come. And you'll still find me at my local church on any given Sunday, ready to give you a hug, a listening ear, cry with you, laugh with you, or simply pray with you.

     Youth ministry has been my life for over 10 years. It was a call that I was drawn to at an early age and in many ways effortlessly transitioned into in my twenties and thirties.

     But now, seasons are changing.

     Without such labels, I'm struggling a bit to understand who I am now at this stage of the game.

     Taking off one coat makes you feel a bit defenseless...until your other coat arrives.

     The natural reaction once that initial coat comes off is to run, and to run as fast as you can!

     The time passing between one coat leaving and another so firmly wrapping itself around your body feels no less than an eternity.

     But stand your ground.

     We love labels. We love knowing where we stand.

     But I think we can gain a new appreciation for labels, by sitting in the moment of unrest and not running.

     It's like you don't know what you really have until you experience the opposite.

     Plus my personal favorite, "wherever you go, there you are."

     And whatever it is you might be trying to outrun is most likely connected to your own heart first--An undealt with issue within your own heart and skin that needs attention; and needs to be taken care of first, before a new season and chapter of your life can fully emerge.

     Have you heard of that song, "Deliver Me" originally by the British group, The Beloved and later covered by Sarah Brightman, and then David Crowder?

     Well, I LIVED off of that David Crowder version from 2003-2006.

     David Crowder turned what appeared to be a unique love song, into a mystical and beautiful worship song, of a heart crying out to God as well.

     It spoke so deeply to me. To my core, like down to my toes.

     I would spend some mornings just looping that song over and over, while I lay on the floor of my bedroom weeping before God. Trying to grasp the fact that I was worth being loved, being known, being seen, being respected.

     "All of my life, I've been in hiding..."

     I find that courage often comes by way of love.

     Love makes us come out of our shells.

     But it's not enough to love others.

     Or to fake the funk so well, that everyone and their mom thinks you're pretty darn okay and doing quite well for yourself.

     It's also learning how to love and honor yourself in the process.

     And when the coat is off, it feels as though Love has abandoned us. But Love hasn't. No. Not at all.

     It's just that---a new coat is arriving, one tailored made for the new journeys ahead.

     Loving yourself in this process has a lot to do with simply being honest. And letting the truth really hit you where it counts: In your heart, your motives, and your actions.

     Look, just be honest.

     And if you ever find yourself at unrest and/or trying to run, admit that you're in hiding.


     Because when you do, that's the very moment you're ready to be found. 




Wisdom's Knocking:


"Deliver me out of the sadness
Deliver me from all the madness
Deliver me courage to guide me
Deliver me Your strength inside me


All of my life
I've been in hiding
Wishing there was someone just like You
Now that You're here
Now that I've found You
I know that You're the One to pull me through"

-- Jon & Helena Marsh, "Deliver Me"

-- 


To hear the David Crowder version of "Deliver Me":











To Be Seen & Heard


     I don't talk much about the youth group that I've been pastoring for almost 8 years. Not as a means to negate its importance and weight in my life, but rather as an effort to protect these special hearts from the attention that might detract from their own personal journeys and awkwardly prying eyes of the interwebs.

     But their journey in many ways has been my journey.

     I was a cliche.

     Let me explain.

     Picture the ill-prepared Big City teacher thrown into throngs of Big Country Livin'. In certain ways destined to fail.

     Completely out of her element in every way and constantly doubting if she could even teach given the new circumstances and eccentric characters at every turn.

     The amount of times I wanted to quit out of frustration is almost comical.

     And then this would appear in my email inbox from one of my teenagers:

"Hey Patrice, 
I just wanted to tell you that you are a really great person. You are an inspiration to me. I know this is super random ... But you just don't complain and you don't choose to be a downer all the time.. even when times are really darn tough. I want to thank you for all of the time, love, effort, money, and emotion you've put into our youth group. God has got some pretty awesome stuff up his sleeve for your future. Alotta babies too. I appreciate you. I thank God for good people in my life like you. I really do. Genuinely good people. Those are the kinds I like. Hope you're alright xxx"

     I mean.

     I would think to myself, do they know how absolutely bonkers and emotional I am in life at the moment?? That I actually felt as though I was lacking in love and skill on so many levels and yet...

     It's so amazing how other people see us--when we let them.

     Love is so much about being Seen and Heard.

     And that was the main thing.

     I was learning how to love, just like my teenagers were learning how to love God, themselves, and each other.

     Since the beginning of my time as a youth pastor, almost all of my kids have had direct access to me: My cell number, email, Facebook, Instagram, etc.

     That's been the main tool in my rusty toolbox. Invited Accessibility.

     I knew that these tender and fierce hearts just wanted to be Seen --and Heard.

     And isn't that what we all want in the end.

     And now my heart breaks a little, but not without a fragrance of hope coming forth from its chamber. Many of my first generation youth groupers are struggling with addiction, depression, anorexia, and a loss of faith. And I long for them to come home. 

     And when I say home, let me be specific. It doesn't mean to necessarily come home to me and our old victories.

     No. It means to truly come home to God, to family, to identity, to dreams, to truth, to love, and to new victories.

     To my brave, beautiful, and worthy loves (You know who you are), I simply wanted to tell you once again:

     You are always, always Seen, Heard, and most definitely and fiercely Loved.




Wisdom's Knocking:


“The majority of us lead quiet, unheralded lives as we pass through this world. 
There will most likely be no ticker-tape parades for us, no monuments created in our honor. 

But that does not lessen our possible impact, for there are scores of people waiting for someone just like us to come along; people who will appreciate our compassion, our unique talents. 
Someone who will live a happier life merely because we took the time to share what we had to give. 

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have a potential to turn a life around. It’s overwhelming to consider the continuous opportunities there are to make our love felt.” 

 ― Leo Buscaglia