Reminders from God’s Calendar

Monday night before bed, I reviewed my monthly goals. Goals are easier to chew when you take a bite each day. Say no to overindulgence, my friends.

I said to myself, “When I wake up, I’m going to do this, this and this.” Gratefully, the sun rose and I had another chance to strive towards my goals. I hopped out of bed, ready to take on the day, listening to my favorite YouTube video I listen to every morning: Who You Are Message to All Women https://youtu.be/uWi5iXnguTU.

I jumped in my car and headed to my first stop of the day. I planned in my head and iPhone calendar I would be out by 10:00am based off of historical information given to me by others who had the same experience.

As I sat in the waiting area, sipping my hot coffee black, I engaged in light conversations with a few other people who were also planning the rest of their day and stating how much they HAD to do before the day was over.

Time quickly passed and 9:00am was upon us. I began to think how “I” could hurry this process. How “I” could make sure I was on to the next thing as “I” had planned the day before.

I shifted in my seat this way and the other, cleared my throat, checked my watch again and again, yet nothing happened.

I was slowly coming into the realization that I was not going to be able to leave when I expected. Isn’t it funny how we think we have control over others, the environment and the circumstances?

I was quickly reminded I could only control my reactions and attitude to what was going on around me. As I was asked to stand, shortly after I was asked to sit again as I was chosen to serve a civic duty.

Was I mentally, emotionally or even spiritual prepared for what I was walking into? No. Was I present to what had to be done over what I was desired to do? Yes.

I was called to make a shift and here are 7 reminders God’s calendar notified me of as I sat in a freezing cold room surrounded by people I had never met or even seen before.

1. What God wants you to do will always prevail over what you are choosing.

2. You are not nor have you ever been in control of anything other than yourself and your actions.

3. When you are present you are not missing anything.

4. You can fight for what you want or allow God to give you what you need.

5. You are progressing even when it feels like you are standing still.

6. There are people who need your presence more than you often realize.

7. Four hands on a steering wheel causes accidents, take yours off. Trust God’s.

I deleted all of my calendar plans for that day and quietly, gently whispered to myself “I want your calendar God, not mine.”

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The Spirit Virus

What ever happened to soul food? I’m not talking about the collard greens, the cornbread, the yams, or the dressing. I’m talking about the infectious, tasty conversations people use to bring to the table. Now, it seems like we as culture drink spoiled milk and vomit on others in public. Our attitudes being as tasteless and dry as a chef cooking homemade Mac and cheese for the first time.

Who do we turn to for answers? Or do we turn to ourselves? I believe we turn to ourselves. That’s the only thing within our control. Our reactions, our responses, our choices. Even not choosing is a choice.

This week, I got extremely sick at work. Sharp pains started at the top of my head to the soles of my feet. As I finished one customer, I went to speak with my manager. He greeted me with “Brit Brit, what’s up?” I replied “I feel very ill.”

He ordered me to the back to sit down for 10 minutes and to drink water. I did what he said, but I felt like I needed more than physical nourishment. I thought it may be a bad response to the food I had just eaten. I thought it was the bipolar weather of the south that had triggered my immune system to break down.

With tears running down my face, my body in physical pain and my eyes closed shut, I simply prayed.

When my 10 minute timer went off, I headed back. Still not physically or mentally up to the challenge of offering our latest promotions with a smile, I called it a day. I grabbed my things. Leaving my beloved cheesecake behind, I headed home.

For the next 36 hours, I took medicine, drank lots of water and meditated. The most effective of the the three turned out to be meditation. What was happening internally had a direct effect on my physical ailments.

My spirit was infected with self-doubt, frustration, irritation and toxic energy from others I encounter on a daily basis. So I turned to myself for answers. For a response. I decided I had the cure. Even if the food left me terribly ill, there had to be seeds already there to manifest such a horrible reaction. I won’t diagnose anyone else but here are symptoms of the spirit virus and things to avoid:

Symptoms:

  • Feelings of unworthiness
  • Lack of joy and peace
  • Challenge in communicating
  • Tension in the neck and under eyes
  • Doubt of a hopeful and divine future

Things to avoid:

  • Patients who have the spirit virus but do not desire treatment
  • Your own negative thoughts
  • Environments where toxic energy of normalized
  • Comparing your life to others
  • Revisiting memories without an intent to learn a lesson or choose gratitude

I believe the Human spirit is one of the greatest assets we have. When it’s sick our bodies let us know.

Peace and blessings,

Britney

Flower Gardens in My Heart

As I reflect on the month of February, it’s been a great one. The month started with intense workouts in the training facility I consistently go to.

The second week I celebrated my 28th Birthday in beautiful Orlando, Florida. The week ended with a dim light dinner with 14 of my closest family and friends.

The third week I returned to work with high energy, smiles for days, and love in my heart for the job I *get to* do everyday.

This week, I exceeded my sales goals and won an award I’ve been gunning for since last year.

All month, I’ve been realizing the blockages in my heart as it relates to romantic love. I’ve been amazed at how defensive I become when I’m treated how I deserve to be treated.

What’s foreign to us normally scares us.

However, persistence is winning. Seeds of love are being planted in the garden of my heart daily. Many I plant, many others do. Isn’t it a beautiful time for blooming with Spring right about the corner?

We all have so much to be thankful for.

I hope you’ve been gardening, pruning and trimming in your own life.

Beautiful things can’t bloom with weeds, underutilized space and under fertilized soil.

B

The Day I Grew Strength From My Ancestors Wounds

I used to consume history in high school like popsicles on a sunny day. I was intoxicated with learning what happened before my existence. My mind swelled with knowledge of how what became what and how who become who. I would go through trails in my head with the intent to get to the end of how I ended up here. In America. After years of slavery.

On a cold Thursday afternoon, I made my way to the new Mississippi Civil Rights Museum located in Downtown Jackson, Mississippi. As I walked through the doors, I was met by two police officers. The lady said “Take everything out your pockets. Step forward.” I did so. It was procedure, but I instantly felt a small sense of what would be ahead.

As I made my way to the beginning of the eight exhibit museum, I started here. Instantly taken aback by what I was reading. My eyes glazed over metal chains used as restraints, documents of laws and pictures of cotton, poverty, and politics. I was on an emotional roller coaster that hadn’t even reached its peak.

Before proceeding to certain simulations and presentations, the museum had warning signs of how graphic the pictures may be. As I stepped in certain spots, the intercom said “Hey! What are you doing here? You better get out of here if you don’t want any trouble.” It was in real voices. The same voices my ancestors heard day in and day out.

One went as far as the sound of a rifle being prepared for action. Although I was in a safe place, my mind started to imagine what it must have been like living in the times of slavery and post-slavery.

I imagined punishment for little or no reason, deep senses of fear in the bellies of every black person in those times, the rise of faith and doubt, the organization of movements and companies, the birth of children and the death of some. I imagined hymns being moaned when words couldn’t be mustered. Oh, I imagined a lot.

When I exited imagination, I reentered reality. I was grateful to have gained a small glimpse into my history. I was saddened by the lives lost to fight for the freedoms I have today. I was inspired to press on another day knowing my ancestors had endured far worse than I ever have.

Many of the wounds are still open today. History is living in the present. I still see injustice, poverty, slavery of the mind, depression and systematic oppression. But in the eye of my soul, there’s light, there’s hope, there’s freedom, there’s truth and there’s time. I walked out of the Mississippi Civil Rights Museum with my curly head held high with a bandaid of strength over my ancestors wounds.