I Love You, Man

Yesterday was a very onerous day for me. I cried most of the day, so much that by the end of the night, my head was killing me. I felt lost and confused, and in need of guidance. So before finally drifting off to sleep, I prayed that today would be easier. What can I say? When God answers a prayer, he answers a prayer.

As I sat and chewed on the word that God was using my pastor to bring forth this morning, the weight on my shoulders became lighter. The corners of my mouth started to turn up into a smile and my spirit began to rejoice. I sat there and started thanking God for what he was doing to me and for me, and then something that I never expected to happen, happened.

We have all been someone else on our lives. I mean, we were someone else before we were who we are today. I am not always proud of whom I used to be, but I am thankful and grateful for it at the same time. I think in my past I always collected enemies instead of friends, and as much as I would like to place the blame on everyone else, I admit it was probably me.

So today, as I sat in the house of my father, someone who I thought had wronged me to the point of hate, appeared. The last time I saw this person, I was chasing him down the street with a knife for something that I couldn’t even remember when I saw him.  He walked through the door, battered and broken by life. He looked tired and helpless and like he had more weight on his shoulders than I thought I had this morning. Like real problems that brought about real tears. Problems that lead to death and destruction. Problems that I am grateful aren’t mine. And I didn’t think about all of the things that I have said I would do if I ever saw him again. I forgot about what he called my mother and father before I pulled that knife out and chased him. Just like that…I forgot to hate him. When I looked up and saw him walk through that door, I felt love. I was overwhelmed by it. It moved me to tears and as he neared my row to walk past me, I grabbed and embraced him. I was happy that he came to the house of my father. He needed it. I could tell by his eyes and how tight he held me when he accepted my embrace. He needed it. So, I loved him today—I love him today, because he wants my father and my father is love. I was healed from yesterday, today, because I let someone see my father in me.

(Matt 5:44) But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.

Staying Me

So I didn’t know which of my blogs to post this one to. I ended up here because even though I am writing about character in terms of writing; I am referring to character in terms of self. So here goes…

Today I called Arnold (my husband for those of you who don’t know) at work and we had a long conversation. For the past few weeks, I have not been myself. I mean I really haven’t been myself. I have been digging extra deep for anger and tears, thinking about things from the past (not my past), and creating drama from what I dig up (again, not my past). I am taking a novels class that is way intense, so I started living the life of my character before I actually birthed her. I gave birth to her this past Monday, and after she was born, the real me re-emerged. I failed to explain this to my husband (and myself). So my depression, which is something that my character battles in this novel, took my husband by surprise.

   “Why are you so down?” He asked a couple of weeks ago.

   “I wish I had a purpose.” I answered with sincerity.

Confusion crossed through his eyes before he tried to talk some sense into me, but I wouldn’t give. He walked away defeated and told me that he was praying for me. I have never suffered from depression, but I am drawing it out deeply in my new character. I didn’t realize it until I birthed her, but I let her, a figment of my imagination, take over.

I am in the process of sketching a very sad life. A person who knows no gain, only loss. A very sad life. I realized that I am tapping into some very spiritual and powerful stuff in these creations. I am bringing shamans from Guatemalan villages and witch doctors from Africa into my life. These creations can become part of me—can influence me. And if I let them, they can control me.

I always try to birth my protagonists from somewhere inside me—inside my mind. I have had some really messed up ones, too. I don’t hold onto them. I know how to birth them and move on to the next one, but I found it fascinating and startling to know that I become them for awhile, and not because I have to, but because I’ve let them take over.  

This revelation helps me stay me. My husband didn’t marry Gemini (from “Gemini’s Release”) or Marie (from “More Lipstick, Please”). My children don’t want Awiti (from “Dying Room”) as a mother, so I have to stay LaToya for them all. I have to pray before stepping into their worlds, and I didn’t know that until I birthed Fatima.

 Ephesians 6:12

 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

Tears of the Son

I just finished watching Tears of the Sun, the 2003 film, written by Alex Lasker and Patrick Cirillo. I have viewed the film many times before, and I think that I classify it as one of my favorites because of the way it moves me. I feel God’s hugeness—no, God’s allness, each time I watch it. I tend to get a bit down by the state of humanity. I wonder where compassion has hidden herself, or where right lies in the midst of wrong.  I wonder if goodness has abandoned the hearts of men, and if mercy chose to flee behind her. But this movie, on a very small scale, shows me that there is good. That someone out of nowhere will be willing to stand for good during a time of evil. Amidst the chaos created by the Nigerian rebels in this movie, God chose a comforter—a savior, for his people. Though it is but a work of fiction—a happening in someone’s mind, in order for it to be written, God had to inject, even if only for a moment, the vision of this goodness into the hearts of the writers.

And then it makes me grateful, for I can see God on the television screen, in a Michelangelo sculpture, and in the weather cycles in my state. It tides me over and makes we understand that things happen in this world as they do for a greater cause. It shuts me up from my whining and complaining about all the horrible injustices of life, long enough to see God in almost everything around me. It humbles and prepares me for my chance to change the world. And then, it makes me smile at God. For he’s sent me a message, and I have received it, and I hear him say to me:

Matthew 13:16-17 “But you are blessed, because you see with your eyes and hear with your ears. I tell you the truth, many prophets and good people wanted to see the things that you now see, but they did not see them. And they wanted to hear the things that you now hear, but they did not hear them.”

My Opportunity

I don’t know if you know this, but I gave birth to a daughter on January 23, 1996. I was too young for a child and did not want her. I was about to graduate high school and had plans of attending college the following year. Anyway, I was attending summer school (so that I could graduate early) when I found out I was pregnant. I immediately decided that I was getting an abortion. I called the clinic and set up an appointment. When the lady on the other end of the phone said, “This will be a two-day procedure,” I panicked. I didn’t even have a car to get there the first day, but I had a close cousin who did. I set the appointment anyway, and then asked my cousin if I could use his car to go to school the next day. He asked no questions, just looked at me and nodded his head up and down.

At the time, I was only seventeen. I don’t know that I even believed in God, but my parents did. I don’t know why I didn’t get the abortion, but I didn’t. I lay down on the table, and they showed me the dot on a machine that was supposed to be the fetus, and even though I didn’t want that baby, I didn’t do it. I liked to think (then) that it was because I didn’t have a ride back for the second part of the procedure, but I know better than that, now.

When my mother found out about the baby a few months later, she did the whole shocked and horrified momma thing, but then she went on and asked, “what do you want to do?” I answered, “have an abortion.” See,  I thought it would be easier to do with her around. The support was what I wanted. But she looked at me with disgusted eyes and shook her head, “nuh uh, cause as much as I didn’t want this for you, God allowed it. You having this baby.”

So, I delivered a baby girl that January. I didn’t love her right away, but she was perfect. My mother didn’t do my job, either. She made me do it. I did late night feedings and diaper changing, while my mother stood over me and smiled. I remember the day I realized that I had fallen in love with her. She was two weeks old, and I had taken her out with me to the grocery store. As we prepared to depart, after picking up a few things, I loaded her infant seat into the backseat of my warming car, and when I closed the door, I realized that I had locked myself out. I was hysterical as I beat on the windows, attempting to pound my way inside. “My baby!” I stood there screaming.  “My baby is locked inside.” I started slinging snot and crying, telling her calm and sleeping form that it would be alright.  A bag boy finally called the fire department and they opened the door to the car.

I bonded with that child for six months. I would watch her sleep and plan our futures out. She became the princess that I never wanted. She became what life was all about for me. I worshipped her. She was my God… and then she was gone.

On August 8, 1996, I thought she caught a cold, but she died the next morning.

I didn’t see it coming. I didn’t know what to do. I needed something to hold onto, something to believe in. I needed to understand. And my mother stretched her hand out to me and said, “Try my God.” I did.

I told that story to get to this:

Matthew 25: 13-30

13 Watch therefore, for ye know neither the day nor the hour wherein the Son of man cometh.

 14 For the kingdom of heaven is as a man travelling into a far country, who called his own servants, and delivered unto them his goods. 15 And unto one he gave five talents, to another two, and to another one; to every man according to his several ability; and straightway took his journey. 16 Then he that had received the five talents went and traded with the same, and made them other five talents. 17 And likewise he that had received two, he also gained other two. 18 But he that had received one went and digged in the earth, and hid his lord’s money.

 19 After a long time the lord of those servants cometh, and reckoneth with them. 20 And so he that had received five talents came and brought other five talents, saying, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me five talents: behold, I have gained beside them five talents more. 21 His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.

 22 He also that had received two talents came and said, Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained two other talents beside them. 23 His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.

 24 Then he which had received the one talent came and said, Lord, I knew thee that thou art an hard man, reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where thou hast not strawed: 25 And I was afraid, and went and hid thy talent in the earth: lo, there thou hast that is thine.

26 His lord answered and said unto him, Thou wicked and slothful servant, thou knewest that I reap where I sowed not, and gather where I have not strawed: 27 Thou oughtest therefore to have put my money to the exchangers, and then at my coming I should have received mine own with usury. 28 Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents.

29 For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath. 30 And cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness: there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

God sent me something very special, though I did not want it at first. I did not expect it (Matt 25:13), as we are not always privy to when God is working in our lives.  I do not mean my daughter, either.  I mean the opportunity to believe in him. The chance and choice to know that he would rescue me from the pain that I felt from the loss of that child. I took that opportunity (that talent) and multiplied it, instead of burying it.

This time of year gets rough for me. She would be celebrating her fourteenth birthday this month. But I can’t help but rejoice as I reflect on her birth. Fourteen years ago, I pushed out my opportunity to believe in something worth dying for.

My Opportunity

My Good Energy

Galatians 6:7-8 (King James Version)

 7Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.

 8For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting.

 I stumbled across this thought today while I was researching. Do we think about this daily? Imagine what life would be like if we all did?

  If we said to ourselves before we acted:

  If I frown at someone because I’m having a bad day, I’ll reap a frown when I need a smile (or worse).  If I sell drugs to someone else’s loved ones, what going to happen to me? What’s going to happen to my loved ones? If I beat this man out of his last dime, what’ll happen when I’m down to mine? If I break in and steal what they have worked for, what’s going to happen when I decide to work for something? If I try to take this woman’s husband, because I don’t have one, when I get one, will someone take mine?

 I mean the list could go on forever, but imagine what the world would be like if each individual questioned the consequences of their actions… before actually acting.  Call it wishful thinking, heavy dreaming, or whatever you want. I’m not delusional. I know that we won’t get there. We’d almost be perfect. That would mean that we really hear the word of God.

 We’re not perfect. We won’t be as long as we are bound by this flesh. But does it hurt to try to be? To make life easier? To be more like HIM? See, we suffer here on earth for things we do, too. Think about it. We sow seeds with our choices. If I make the choice to puff on a cigarette everyday for thirty years, there is a possibility that we’ll get lung cancer and die one day. Or, if I make the choice not to pay child support for my children, when the mother decides to take me to court, I am subject to have to deal with some back pay. We sow seeds to ourselves, too. I’ll make the choice to take care of the temple that God has blessed me with, and not smoke. Or, I’ll make the choice to take care of my children, and back pay is one less thing that I have to worry about.

 Today, I thought about being younger and making foolish decisions about life and people. I thought about friends that I could have gained and people that I should have shed. I thought about choices I made as a child, a teen, and a young adult. While I don’t regret a single lesson I’ve learned, I wish I could have gone through life without hurting anyone, being mean to anyone. When something or someone hurts me, I am sure I have hurt someone before. But when someone smiles at me or embraces me, I am proud. For that is my good energy, returning.

Happy 2010 World!

I thank God for life. I thank God that I am still here. I thank him for his word, and for being God. As I step into the new year, I do so with the resolve to be a better servant, reciever of his word, messenger to his people, and nuturer to his creation. I will strive harder to be more like him than I ever have. I will attempt to put his will before my own. My desire is to please him. I will.

Happy 2010!

As He Molds Me into What He Wants Me to BE

The name of my Web log is LaToya S. Watkins: The Mind of An Ex-Loser. I think he draws me closer everyday, but I’m still not there yet. Truth is, everyday I shed a portion of who I used to be, and become more of who HE created me to be. I am not perfect. I anger, still. I worry, still. Sometimes I am selfish, still. But O what a joy to grow enough to see that. O what a joy to be ashamed when I am not an example! And O what a joy that I choose not to make the same mistake tomorrow that I have made today. But today is my testimony, so here it goes.

I’m wounded y’all. I realized today that I am still hurting from some things that I thought I let go a long time ago. I have been praising God for years for bringing me out of situations, and for teaching me lessons from those situations. For allowing me to see where and how I have grown from those situations, and for being with me always–in and out of those situations. But I also realized that I have not let go. Those that things/experiences that I am so thankful for. Those things that I keep praising God for getting past. Those things that had me–that tried to take me out, have been running my life. I burden my children with over-protectiveness, coldness, and barely enough affection, because I am afraid to loose another child. I work harder than I should, because I don’t want them to go to bed hungry or without lights. I am afraid to get comfortable in the arms of my husband, because I fear that he will abuse my comfort in him.  I turn away from speaking engagements and attention, because I fear that I am not smart enough to be listened to. I constantly wonder why my family (my kids, my husband, my mother, father, siblings, etc.) love me. All these things–all these things are from my past. My daughter came to this earth and lived with me half-a-year, and then she was gone. Somebody couldn’t love me, so he wouldn’t stop fighting against me. I have gone to bed hungry and without lights. Somebody who I thought was smart, called me dumb.

BUT I THANK GOD FOR HIS GRACE!!! FOR HIS MERCY!!!

I thank God for true delieverance. I thank God for allowing me to see the anchors that have been holding me down. Tonight, I kissed my children. I sang to them. I laughed with them. I ran with them. I chased them. I fell with them. I cuddled with them and watched them sleep. I do these things with my children. I love my children. But tonight when I did it–I didn’t think about losing them. Tonight, I didn’t close my office door on my family to work. I didn’t even go into my office! I visited my sister and took the kids to the feed store to get reindeer food for Rudolph. Tonight, when I kissed my husband goodnight, I didn’t pay attention to where his fists were. Tonight, I promised him from now on that I will love him with the same freedom and comfort with which he loves me. Tonight, I replied to an email, agreeing to lecture humanities to college level students. Tonight, I know why I am loved.

Tonight, I let go of my past.

Yes, I can, too!

 So, the past few months have been rough. There has been a voice ringing out in the back of my mind, chanting the same thing over and over. When I decided to leave my job in July to further pursue my education and writing career (which go hand-in-hand, by the way), it whispered in my ear, “you cannot make it…you cannot do this…you will fail for sure.” I ignored the voice and kept on trucking, like God taught me to do. Because as soon as that voice whispered negative, I heard, “I’ll take care of you.”

So time went on and I was still hanging tough, handling business like I didn’t have a husband, three kids, and two dogs at home. I was enrolled in nine hours, held a TAship, and freelanced on the side. But then came a day that I had a full short story, a section of a novella (30 pages; plus to read 4 other peoples’ sections), commentary on my graduate research project to my IDS prof., a few freelance projects (writing and editing) all due in the same week (I had a booksiging in another city that week, too). I nearly lost mind, but as soon as I opened my mouth to speak it, I heard what was no longer a whisper, but a bold voice say, “you cannot make it…you cannot do this…you will fail for sure.” I was just about to give up–or at least I wanted to. My husband looked at me and said in a thunderous voice, “Lord, give her the ability to tap into the strength that you have already given her!” I stopped my whining and opened my bible and what stood out to me most in that sitting was Corinthians 12:9 (And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.) I made all deadlines that week.

Now, my semester is winding down and all things are coming to an end. Monday is my final  class day, then I give an exam on the 16th. This morning, when I was singing in the shower, something screamed at me, “you cannot make it…you cannot do this…you will fail for sure!” I was not shaken, I was not scared, in fact I laughed out loud and shouted back, “I CAN DO ALL THINGS THROUGH CHRIST WHICH STRENGTHENS ME!”

Now, I’m done.

Matthew 26:11 (Full Circle Makes Friends)

“For you have the poor always with you; but me you have not always.”

Three days after Thanksgiving, my family and close friends, stood in a circle and prayed, then we all jumped in our cars with 100 bags stuffed with  big ham/turkey sandwiches, chips, fruit snacks, and cookies that our children had all spent Friday night baking, with love. Then we set off to feed the homeless and give the hopeless what God has giving us. Hope. We were blessed as we blessed them. One of the men approached my sister and said, “God bless you, sister. I ain’t ate in three days.”

It was impactful, insightful, and Godlike for our children. We stood proud as we saw the God in all of us emerge.

 As we marveled at the falling snow a few days later, while taking my daughters to school, one them said with a disturbed look in her eyes, “It’s cold out there. I wonder if the homeless people found a warm place to sleep.” And then, she gazed at me in all her innocence and added,  ”can we go check on them?”

As we approach Christmas (where we’ll break our necks to get our loved ones the perfect gifts), I ask whoever is reading this post, have you done something for someone who REALLY needs it lately?

Big Kid

            Don’t curse loud enough for adults to hear you and make sure you say gotdamn and not goddamn; chew tobacco when your mother and father ain’t looking and make sure you spit it away from their feet; cheat on your homework in nice teachers’ classes; change the sheets early in the morning when you pee in the bed; don’t eat berries off trees outside; Is it true that goddamn is cursing God?; don’t get in the car with nice strangers and run if they offer you candy; close your mouth when you chew beans and weenies; turn on the fan in the bathroom when you’re taking a dump; make good grades and keep your chin up when the mean kids hit you; punch the weak kids soft like you wanna be punched; don’t put matches to the gas stove unless your daddy’s around; eat cornflakes now and throw the Honeycombs out;  but I like Honeycombs and cornflakes make me sick; when you talk back to your folks, do it sly so they can’t tell; ain’t it true that only the berries with seeds will kill me?; don’t doze off before nine p.m. and wait until after midnight on weekends; don’t believe in fairytales; am I one of the weak kids?; trade your lunch at school; don’t let anybody see you change out in P.E., you got things on your body that only you need to see; ride your bike in the street and not on the  sidewalk; don’t  jump rope, double-dutch; can I open my mouth when I chew everything else?; you can chew chewing gum when your parents are watching, but you can’t chew hubba bubba anymore; roll your eyes at the principal behind his back; say yuck when they talk about hog mogs and bacon grease; try carrying your weight and getting a paper route and then keep the money all for yourself; answer the phone every time it rings and don’t let anybody else touch it; can I light the gas stove with matches when momma is around?; hog the bathroom for at least four hours a day and the TV much longer than that; don’t fall in with the wrong crowd, those chess club kids will make you look bad; but I’m a chess club kid?; you mean to say you want to be the kid who is in the right crowd, but hangs out with the wrong crowd? 

Mr. I'm-Officially-A-Big-Kid