Sunday, November 26, 2006

I'm Looking Up

I wanted to use a little space on my blog to post some of my not so positive writings. Well, I did... I decided not to post as much as I previously decided to. No point in giving negativity too much glory.

So for now on, I will post positive ideas and thoughts. From time to time, I'm sure that I will use this blog to vent about some of the challenges that I face. But that's different from having a pity party.

I decided last year to pop the baloons and throw away my party hat. No more pity partying for me.

Well, have a great week. I pray that God's grace is with you.

The former party girl,

Miss Angie

Darkness to Light

At the tender age of ten tribulation crashed upon me like a boulder to my head. Without any perceivable warning, I developed a severe case of Glaucoma in both of my eyes. The discovery of this thieving disease, unmercifully engaged my parents, my doctors, and me into a seven year, painstaking war to save at least a fraction of my fleeting sight. I endured 14 painful surgeries and countless visits to my eye specialist.
It did not take long for me to run to the arms of Jesus for comfort. I also wanted him to grant me perfect health. I had been told all my life that God was a healer. I earnestly believed with all my heart that God was going to heal me of my illness. Why wouldn't he?
I continued to fast and pray for the next few years. But instead of getting my sight back, I eventually lost it all. The light of day was captured in my head, only to serve as a mere memory. I was now totally blind. I never imagined that I would ever be visually disconnected from the world. What was I going to do? I never planned for this to happen. In fact, I never believed that this miserable day would come. I thought for sure that God would have healed me by then. How was I to function as a blind woman?
Because my persistent prayer for healing seemed to be ignored, I collapsed into a greater depth of depression than I could have ever imagined. A storm of defeat washed over me, and my mind began to travel to the land of sorrow. I trembled at the thought of living my life as a blind woman. I began to ask myself, "Will anyone marry me if I have a visual disability? Who wants a 'blindy' for a wife? How can I be a mother with no eye sight? Do I still have a chance at a promising career?" I knew one thing and one thing only. I would rather die than become an old blind woman. I became consumed with the idea of being "blind forever."
I had trouble sleeping. My heart hemorrhaged with pain. Fear caused me to lie restless until the rebirth of dawn. I was so frightened that I would fall asleep and wake up still without the vision of day.
Desperately enough, I wanted to die. Thoughts of suicide fought to apprehend me. I was obsessed with the idea of death. I would daydream about creative ways to kill myself.
All my life, I was told, "If you believe, then you will receive", "If you ask in Jesus' name, it will come to pass", "All it takes to be healed is mustard seed faith." Well, I began to believe that God's promises were all a lie. Why wasn't I a recipient of the promises of God?
Then I began to wonder was something wrong with me. Perverse thoughts began to storm through my head. "God must not love me. If he did he would give me my sight back. God will never heal me. I am paying for the sins of my forefathers."
It seemed that sound reasoning had been evacuated. The devil convinced me to believe the pack of lies he tossed my way. I started to decay within, due to my deprivation of truth.
The cloud of depression grew thicker, and the light of Jesus Christ seemed to diminish. Hope for my healing had vanished, and the love of God was no longer visible to me. Not only did I lose my physical sight, my spiritual vision had also been blurred. Spirits of heaviness, despair, defeat, and fear swarmed around me and attempted to choke the life from my soul. I was dying, both physically and spiritually.
But I wasn't dead yet! God can restore and heal the wounded soul. The Lord breathed the restoration of life into my soul, and I embraced the comfort that He affords believers who trust Him even when they are in confusing, hurtful, strained situations.
I am so thankful to God that He used the faithful, kind, and persistent ministry of a college friend to rescue me from the depths of sadness and sorrow. Yes, I am still physically blind; however, God has granted me spiritual vision. Vision that will enable me to press forward and remain focused on maximizing my life potential.
God wants us to love, trust, and maintain our faith even when times get hard. I am a living witness that it is difficult to follow God when the way is dim. But we must stand on his word and know it is true. We are commanded to walk in faith and not to base our decisions in accordance to the things we see.
When the darkness of night falls all around us, the sun is not visible to the eye. But that does not mean it is not there. The earth has revolved and caused a delusion. The sun seems to disappear at the dusk of every evening. Then the moon makes its nightly appearance. The light from the moon is simply a reflection of the sun, reminding us that the sun is still alive.
It wasn't until I loss my sight that I began to “see”. Over the years, I began to understand the difference between sight and vision. Sight is a function of the eyes. But vision is a function of the spirit. There are many people that have sight. But very few possess vision.
The Lord desires for us to utilize our spiritual vision by way of faith, so that we might see the plan of God. God does not work off of facts. He is a God of possibilities. Don't become blinded by what you see. Look beyond the physical rim and focus on the promises of God. Never forget that God is able to do what man deems to be impossible. Open your eyes, and see the glory of the Lord!

Friday, November 24, 2006

My Loneliness

My loneliness is like a tree trunk
The roots run unimaginably deep
And extends many branches

My loneliness is like a river
It winds and travels to different places
And it empties into a larger body of its own kind

My loneliness is like an ant
So inconspicuous
But so powerful and strong

My loneliness is like a fire
So deeply consuming
And sometimes fatal

My loneliness is like the night
It leaves me for a moment
But it is sure to return

My loneliness is like a flower
So fragile
So innocent

My loneliness is like time
Always evolving
And extremely constant

My loneliness is like space
So empty
But able to contain masses

My loneliness is like the twin towers
It seems invincible
But can be knocked down

Written: December 10, 2001

Brown Eyes

When I was eight-years-old, I stared into the mirror and captured the image of my face. I looked at my lips and took note of their fullness. I looked at my nose and realized how much I really didn’t like it. It was an okay nose, but I would have picked another one from God’s inventory. I then zoned in on my cheeks. Full, but not too fat… Yep, I had a couple of my daddy’s dimples. I wished that I could somehow poke a couple more dips in my cheeks.

“Not too bad.” I shamelessly thought. I had some pretty good looking features carved into my honey brown skin. Not perfect… But I decided that I was indeed a good looking child.

I continued to stare into the face of a girl that I was becoming more familiar with as each second leaped into the past. Next, I caught a glimpse of my long, long eyelashes. I admired their beauty and reach. Those lashes extended above the image that I would zone in next, my eyes. I looked into the intense, yet innocent, brown eyes of a girl, who was unaware of the dreadful days to come. I studied the brown. It was so rich, pure, and honest. A true brown… Light enough to see the brown. Dark enough to be called brown. But in that brown sea, pain, sickness, and death stirred beneath the surface. I didn’t know it yet, but those brown eyes were the deep brown pits of despair. The brown would unleash the fury that hides behind them and life would change. The brown would fade, and the girl’s image in the mirror of herself would fade with it.

Now, the image of the brown eyes in the mirror is a memory, just as the girl’s brown eyes. But the sorrow, pain, and havoc are the reality. When I look in the mirror, I see nothing. I imagine brown eyes that are not there. But they are there. Well, at least one of them is there. And the one that I decided to let stick around is trying to pretend to be something other than brown. It better watch out. That’s why the other eye got fired.

I always thought gray eyes were cool. My daddy’s gray eyes are the most beautiful that I’ve seen. But who wants to walk around with one brown eye and another eye that decides to switch it up on you and fade to gray. That was not the look I was trying to rock.

Why would my eyes betray the brown anyway? I guess they don’t know that brown is beautiful. Well, my eyes betraying the brown are the least of the backstabbing that my eyes could have done. I put blindness on the top of the list of ultimate betrayals.

By and Because

Annoyed by Adversity
Belligerent because of barrenness
Conflicted because of Confusion
Dominated by Disaster
Eclipsed by Economics
Frail because of Failure
Gaped because of Grief
Hindered by Horror
Irritated by Ignorance
Jailed by Junk
Lonely because of Lovelessness
Melon collie because of mayhem
Nullified because of Neglect
Oppressed by Obliquities
Plummeted by Problems
Querulous because of Quandaries
Repulsed by Repugnance
Sad because of Sickness
Transitioned because of Tragedies
Uneasy because of Unrest
Victimized by Violence
Weary because of Warfare
Zonked because of Zealots

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Writing is Theraputic

I don’t consider myself a “writer.” But one thing is true about me is that I write. I don’t necessarily write because I like it or because I’m good at it. I write to be free. Writing allows me the opportunity to release the storms that sometimes rage within my heart and mind. Yes, talking about the things in my head is therapeutic as well. But writing my ideas down documents how smart and/or crazy I’ve been over the years.

When I look over some of my work, I’m amazed at how dismal and depressing a lot of the pieces are. I almost feel ashamed that a “positive sister” like myself would write such hopeless stuff.

But the truth is the truth. My feelings, the good ones and the bad ones, are all valid at the time. Well, maybe not valid. But I would say that each of the feelings were necessary.

So, over the next few days, I will post some of the pieces that I wrote when my faith was being challenged. Poems and essays that were composed in some of my dark hours… Thank God I’m not feeling depressed now. At least, I’m not feeling that way tonight. LOL

Hopefully, you’re entertained… Next week, we’ll swing back to posting positive and inspiring blog entries. Until then, be satisfied and fulfilled.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006


I’ve been blogging for 6 months now. That’s a great accomplishment for me. I’ve been known to start a journal here or there, never really keeping up with it.

I don’t exactly think of blogging as journaling. But it is a way for me to document my thoughts and experiences. The fact that I have stuck to it this long is great.

A great thing happened today. I finally figured out how to use the title field on blogger. I had not been able to figure out how to officially title my blog entries. Even though I would just do it myself, I wanted to do it the right way.

I read through some of the help files on Blogger and found the info I needed to become even more advanced in this world of blogging. I know it may not be important to anyone else, but me. But that’s okay. Advancement and accessibility is quite important to me.

I’ll be posting real soon. I’m even thinking about starting a couple of more blogs. I’ll let you (Is anyone out there?) know. LOL