Tag: Joy

Ok… so you know I’m really superwoman, in my mind anyway 😂. I started walking around yesterday and progressed with each trip. Progress equals an additional 3 steps, don’t get too excited. I quickly realized I am really made out of al dente pasta. I get reassurance from every doctor that stops by that everything is going along nicely, But you know me.
So I keep my music (Richard Smallwood) pumping in my room and keep those unceasing prayers floating up. It really is all about His Timing. I’ve even rekindled my hospital bed side ministry! Sometimes just speaking to someone brightens their day. Keep me in your prayers as I try not to get too anxious about the slowly awakening Karen the Kidney. They told me she was sleeping and if she’s anything like me, we don’t get up too fast

So much to share and so Blessed to be able to do so. My birthday was last week and it was just after my appointment at UCLA transplant services. If you know me, you know I’ve been kinda depressed with a bright smile and totally anti-transplant. I’ve been in dialysis for 9 years and my constant prayer was for stability, cause amusement parks had Nothing on this rollercoaster. I left that appointment with a feeling so foreign that I had to meditate and pray for identification because I truly didn’t know what it was. Hope! That feeling was the flicker or reemergence of hope. Instead of wishing for this life and all its pain to go away, I was now looking to the future and tentatively making plans!
8 days later I was in my way to dialysis, just like every morning, stopping to get breakfast pt1 when I got a phone call. There was a kidney with my name on it!!!!
It never even crossed my mind to say no. Insert Divine Wisdom and Timing right here!!!
July 5, 2017 I became a kidney transplant recipient!! 😇😇😂😂
Everyone, meet Karen the Kidney!! The newest and most welcome addition to my body!!!!
Ps….I really don’t like this phrase……BUT….
Won’t He Do It???!?!

Song: Still in Control by Kirk Franklin

I don’t know about some of you, but I struggle with my faith. So during the week I listen to sermons via podcast. This week I heard something that lit up the whole lighthouse; “the devil is in the details, because details derail your faith”. Never a truer word was spoken.
I like to make analogies for how I feel and what I think so others might relate. So I liken my faith struggles to a tantrum. The first hit of bad news or a trying situation, I’m usually good. I acknowledge that God is in control and nothing catches Him by surprise. But, as the details of this situation becomes clearer or other situations decide this would be a good time to join the bandwagon, I can feel a tantrum building. Literally. I get a tingle at the base of my spine as my back prepares to slip and bow. My feet start thinking of what beat they want to tap out as I flail out the unfairness of my life and why has God forsaken me and boo who and whaa! For real, the whole process.
I’ll confess that I’m getting better, I’m catching myself right at that first tingle now, but it was a rough trip.
Sometimes God gives you a vision but it’s usually the end result. The how you’re going to get there and what you’re going to go through seems to be missing from the revelation. I wonder if Joseph would have been as excited about his dream if God had shown him the details. Or if David would have been as accepting if God would have told him he might feel a bit bipolar at times, specifically during the writing of Psalms.
My point is nothing is a surprise to God. He is already at where we are trying to get to. So the major snags in my life, where my faith is the strongest are just as important but not more important than the barrage of minor situations that truly test what I believe. I constantly have to remind that God stays in control and He’s for me.
He’s got you too

Have you ever noticed that the thing you observe in others, that makes you shake your head, is the very thing You do??
Just take a minute, I’ll wait.
Ok, this is my confession (no chicks on the side🎼).
I’ve often read the Bible and shook my head at the Israelites. They were God’s chosen people (uh huh), they were blessed coming and going (ahhh), no weapon formed against them prospered (yas!). Please excuse me, my church upbringing just reared up. But despite all the second (3rd, 4th, etc) chances, they were still ungrateful. Y’all remember when they cried hungry and got manna from heaven? (Exodus 16) They ate and then complained that it wasn’t what they wanted, they meant meat. They complained about that too, never satisfied.
We read this and break into song about “How Great is our God”, but forget, we act just like them sometimes….
And here is the insertion of myself.
If you know me or st least know of me, you know these last ten years are full of stories about God’s grace, mercy, sustaining power and endurance. If you’ve seen me in the hospital, perhaps you left in awe and reaffirmed of God’s love….And that’s all good and dandy for you.
Here’s my take: I often feel like a disappointed kid at Christmas. I asked for a bike but I got school clothes for the next semester because I’ve grown a bit.
I’ll be honest, I’ve asked God to come on and take me home. I’m tired of being sick and in pain all the time and tired of trying to figure who’s safe enough to reveal how I’m really feeling. So, yes, I might have pitched a fit when my eyes keep opening on this side of glory.
But…those new mercies every morning?
I get those too. I get a glimpse of how I was feeling or how I acted yesterday when I feel new strength to handle it today. I get the chance to repent for my ungrateful attitude and to ask for His Will for my life today. Still being honest here, some stretches of time are longer or shorter than others, but all give me a time to remember the goodness of God and remember He knows His plans for me, even when I don’t.
So I go into this Easter Sunday repenting for my ungrateful and bitter heart. I go apologizing for feeling as if I know what’s best for me and ultimately not trusting Him.
Most importantly, I celebrate Easter with a grateful heart, because without Calvary, I wouldn’t be able to do any of this

There are days when I wonder if I’m a Christian. I seemed to have missed the bandwagon of righteous indignation. People are huffing and puffing about abortions and bathrooms and I’m kinda like “meh”. Being a Christian is more than walking around condemning people with your righteous self. God’s Word is everlasting whether you believe it or not, but may I submit an example for your consideration? If I don’t know Spanish and you keep talking to me about a libro, with no examples or parallels that I understand, our conversation isn’t going to last long. We both are going to be very frustrated and all types of bad feelings are gonna sprout up. If you don’t believe in abortion or birth control or homosexuality or any of the other issues that are red hot, don’t deal with them. But we are speaking a language that is not being received nor understood. Why? Because we have no relationship with the people we’re trying to force this on.
And while I’m venting, I would like to point out that the hot issues are women oppressive; kinda reminds me of the church. It is just in recent years that I’ve noticed a surge in women pastors and ministries. I grew up with women being almost second class citizens. Not the best world view for a girl. But it started in the church and it appears we are rolling back the years.
I don’t know where we’re headed, politically or religiously, but we’ve got to stop these one sided attacks. Remember the woman caught in adultery? (John 8:1-11)
The Pharisees were quite happy to stone her for the act, but how much you wanna bet she wasn’t alone? They brought her before Jesus and expected him to start huffing with them. Jesus didn’t huff nor puff, He simply began to remind them of the rocks in their sandbox. I don’t know about you, but my sandbox has some clearly transparent rocks and it has some rocks that I’m going to need God to allow me some time to explain.
A bit of compassion and consideration would go a long way these days

I recently read a post asking what would you do if your child wanted to be average? My first thought was nothing. Here’s why:
I grew up with severe hero worship. My sisters were on different ends of the personality spectrum, but both were bright stars in their own rights. Seriously, in our church circles they were the “Alford Girls”. People expected great things from them and got way above their expectations.
And then there was me.
I came out the womb fighting for a chance to be me. Naturally all those expectations shifted down and freaked me out. During the earlier years I might not have cared, but once I understood the responsibility, I caught my first taste of rebellion.
I wanted to be average and ordinary. I wanted to fit in and not be noticed.
Not many people know this, but I’m partially deaf. Really. I can not explain how much trouble I got into before this was discovered. Back in the day when public schools had gifted or magnet programs, one could feel really special about being a part of that…I didn’t. I felt like I was a fraud and had convinced myself that I was there only because of my sisters. I spent most of my primary education being pulled out class by a speech pathologist to learn how to work my situation. They wanted to teach me sign language but I refused, I already stood out. So I learned to lip read really well. Frustration doesn’t even cover that process. Do you know you can’t say what you don’t hear? There are syllables, sounds and complete words I couldn’t hear and therefore couldn’t say. It was hard work dealing with this and at some point I decided I wanted to be ordinary. As God and I continue to take inventory of me, I realize a few things. My wanting to be average is a form of rebellion. (I might have mentioned I’m in constant battle with this spirit). I don’t want the weight of expectations and responsibilities that come from other people, especially if those people matter to me. Which is all tied up in fear. I don’t want to disappoint folks, so if there are no expectations there can be no disappointment. Kinda like you can’t fail if you don’t try.
As God changes the view of my past, I notice that I wasn’t that bad. Musically, I can pick out and sing the alto note out of any song. Educationally, I might not have been a genius, but I held my own. As for hearing, most people don’t even know I can’t hear worth a darn. But please know, if I can’t see I can’t hear.
Wrapping this up, if someone says they want to be ordinary, dig deeper. I can almost bet there’s an issue unaddressed there….unless it’s laziness and that’s a tough spirit to tangle with too.

It always amazes me the things that snuggle down deep inside us and forever after colors our view of the world.
With my issues and concerns about security, one would think my childhood was rife with my parents being unstable….so not the case.
I’ve lived in the same house my whole life except for the one year I moved out. I grew up a wee bit spoiled considering I’m the youngest, but I’m really far behind my sisters so sometimes I felt like an only. So no, those weren’t contributing factors. I’m almost ashamed to say this but my security issues arose from the fact that we changed churches like popping bacon grease.
Total tangent, but seemed like we always left before I got my treat in Sunday school. Don’t judge, but that was important back then.
But back to the subject at hand; I’ve been to and belonged to more churches than I can even remember. This was just the beginning of my trust issues, so I’m learning. My parents got divorced after 20+ years of marriage……who does that?!?! I had no frame of reference on how to handle this because churches weren’t teaching about divorce back then. I was so esconced in my religious teachings that I was surprised to find some of my friends weren’t living with both of their parents. (I thank God everyday for that particular deliverance).
I’ve mentioned my past desire to be married (again, delivered from that one as well) and I grew up under the teaching that most of the submission was on the wife’s part. As I watched my mom live this out, I decided that would never be me. Now I know everyone has a different love language and perhaps being so young I missed the reciprocation on my dad’s part, but the tension was so thick in my home that I really don’t believe there was any.
I know I’m rambling, but here’s my point…. I’ve asked God to show me areas I need to change and work on and this is area #1. I have a hard time trusting anyone and everyone, even if I love you….that includes God Himself. I keep expecting love to be expressed like a,b and c; but what I get is x,y and z. God is teaching me to be flexible or manageable if you will. We’re supposed to be like clay but I have a tendency to be like a stick of wood.
Trying to work out my kinks so I can be of some use to God. He’s been too good to me for me to have the same battles I’ve been delivered from. Every now and again a peek in the mirror gives us a not so pretty picture.

I really try to be self aware and I’m always up to learning something new, especially about myself. My problem comes with application. Sometimes I simply don’t know what to do with the new information. So……
With all the time I have since I medically retired from my job, I’ve been in constant prayer asking God to keep me and to show me, me. I just want to say, be careful what you ask for, you just might get it and definitely not the way you think.
So God and I are doing an inventory on me and it’s brought to my attention that there are some strong holds in my life. They are all spirits, but I’m not exactly battling with some of them. For example: rebellion is one I constantly battle with. I can almost feel myself becoming more than a little contrary sometimes and if I don’t catch myself, I will nestle down and stay there for a while.
There is a perverse sexual spirit hanging on my family. You can talk to any female and find that she was sexually accosted some kind of way. This spirit is generational. I know the church talks about generational curses, but they don’t always tell you what to do about them. It’s an absolute battle trying to break them buppies. So, in my case, I try to stay hyper aware of things that might seem harmless, but are actually triggers for me. I don’t watch tv and I rarely go to the movies. So those are no problems. I got trust issues, so tall dark and handsome doesn’t move me….much. But I read everything; or at least I used to. Love scenes leave me feeling so type of way, so I had to change the genre that I read. Homosexuals are cool people, but I can’t kick it too tight with them. That’s a spirit I don’t even wanna tangle with. Not because it’s worse than any other spirit; no, it’s because that type of spirit is like kryptonite to my family.
I’ve got a bunch of other known issues to wade through, but you get the picture.
I encourage you to ask God to show you, you. But be prepared to go to work! I used to think if I asked for a virtue God would wave His hand and Boop! I’d get what I asked for. No, not quite. I ended up working far harder than I expected, especially if it was a particularly tight hold.
I can assure you the experience is way eye opening and totally worth it.

This past week my pastor gave an awesome word titled “Love or Lust”. Truly thought provoking stuff, let me tell you. He asked do we love God or are we simply lusting after the things He can give us. I’ll admit, between my heavily medicated induced snoozes, I was thinking about my answer. I came up with neither.
Since honesty and transparency is what I’m striving for, here’s why. Fear has me so bound up in many areas of my life that I am constantly quoting the Word in my head. So…..I’m afraid to lust after the things He can provide because I’m not convinced He will give them to me. It’s all wrapped up in that trust issue I’ve got. I’m getting better, but it’s an arduous and lengthy process. I love God, (you don’t love God, what’s wrong wit chu?) please forgive me, I’ve got a severe case of song Tourette’s.
But really, I do love God, but I gotta be honest, I’m not itching to get to heaven to see Jesus, they have some of my most precious people up there and I miss them. I’m almost certain my peeps are up there, so I got fire insurance to ensure there’s a chance I’ll see them again. In case you are confused, fire insurance: is getting saved just so you won’t go to hell. I’m assuming God knows how I feel, which is why we keep meeting and He keeps revealing and reminding me who He is. I do know that He knows me….He knows I crave stability and knowledge. I don’t like mysteries, surprises and just not knowing stuff; which is why I excel at research. If the answer can be found, I’ll find it. This is why I seem to be perpetually frustrated. I don’t like the “mysteries of God “. I want to know. So I’ve convinced myself that I don’t need a mansion in Glory, I just want in the pearly gates.
Honesty is real, raw and relevant, but it’s where I am. Can’t get delivered if you don’t confront your issues.

I grew up churched. Was there seemed like every time the doors were open. Kids don’t know how good they have it with children’s church. An hour in Sunday school was it…so I grew up feeling like it didn’t matter what I did, I was going to hell. There was a lot of preaching about an Old Testament God. So much so that when this new wave of preaching came talking about God’s love, I had a hard time reconciling the two.
With that being said, I often heard that premarital sex will send you to hell. That’s all I got. No explanations, no defense lessons, nothing. As I look back, I realize my teaching generation was not equipped to treat children like thinking beings. So tactics like group dating and avoiding compromising situations weren’t explained. I honestly think they simply didn’t have the words to express it.
When one of my best friends had sex for the first time, I watched her for 2 years to see if she was going to drop dead…she didn’t. I came to the conclusion the church was lying.
Have I mentioned that rebellion is the strongest spirit I struggled/struggle with?
It was especially easy for me to wander away because I seemed to never be good enough. When someone strokes up what is being torn down, one tends to lean towards the affirmative.
The Song of Solomon (2:7 & 8:4) talks about not awakening love before its time. There’s a reason. Sex is so much more than physical pleasure. There’s a reason marriage is till death. You get joined spiritually and next thing you know you’re wondering why you keep having thoughts and feelings that aren’t yours.
To this day I have to rebuke images, urges, wants and feelings that are not mine. God promised to deliver us from our enemies, He said nothing about our friends. Every now and again I get friendly with these memories because they feel good, BAD idea!
I’m not a parent, but I encourage you to have a real talk with the next generation. They’re smarter than we were at that age and I’d love to save someone unnecessary heartache.