Hey, y'all!
Okay, so I'm going to make this real short and sweet. (I'll try--lol) I've been pondering this all day long, because what I'm about to say honestly hurt me. And, when I was thinking about what I wanted to write on the blog today, I reminded myself that I made a promise to always keep it real.
So, with that being said...
I was at church this morning sharing some exciting news with someone. And, after she rejoiced with me, she said, "Lady D, are you going to make this announcement to the church?" I said, "I sure am. Why not?" Well, in an effort to do what she felt was protecting me from my haters, she said, "Well, you know some people are complaining that they are tired of hearing about what's going on with you and your book, etc, etc."
Y'all I was floored. I was like, huh? Are you kidding me? You can't be serious! Why would any real Christian have an issue with me testifying about the goodness of God? I'm like the church family should be able to rejoice with you even when the haters in the street won't. I am going to be honest. This made me mad. And, I mean MAD as you know what! Ugh! Now I know with every blessing comes persecution. But, goodness. I can't testify in church?? Really?? Like for real?? You know what? I feel that if someone is attending church and get tired of hearing about the goodness of God in somebody's life, one should question whether church is even a place they should go.
See, this is the kind of stuff I was talking about on my earlier blog. CHURCH PEOPLE. Christians don't hate on other Christians. They rejoice with one another. They applaud one another. Because I believe if God is blessing my neighbor, that means He's in my neighborhood!
Point being...don't let jealousy consume you. Your day is coming. God is going to do something supernatural in your life. In the meantime, give Him praise for what He's doing in the lives of those around you. One day a blessing with your name on it will land on your doorstep!
Hope I haven't offended anyone. I'm just what? KEEPING IT REAL!
Love you to life!
----
The One & Only,
D. Wash
Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, June 18, 2010
Sometimes I Just Don't Give A...
Hey, y'all!
First of all, please don't stone me for the title of this segment, ok?? You know I must keep it real. I had planned on continuing the story from the other day on this blog. But, I just wanted to share what's presently on my heart. I must admit. I had sort of a rough day. I'm sure you've had one of those before, too.
As I was saying the other day, church folk can be a hot mess! So, what tends to happen in the lives of church leaders after living a continuous life for other people; is you lose yourself--within yourself. You sorta forget that you have real feelings, real emotions, real hurts, and real pains. I know for me being a first lady, it has been hard trying to mask those things. But, that's what I was taught. Never let 'em see you sweat. Never let 'em see you cry. I truly believed at one point, that expressing emotions were a borderline sin unless you were jerking and twitching because you felt the Holy Spirit move you! I felt if I had a bad day, I was allowing the enemy to defeat me. I felt that if I thought the wrong thing, the Lord himself would send down legions of angels to chastise me. God forbid I made a mistake, or sinned on purpose--you couldn't convince me that life wouldn't be over for me and all of my blessings would cease. The pressure to live a near perfect life often times have been extremely overwhelming.
Now, don't get me wrong. I know that with this territory comes a different responsibility to stay above par. I realize that Pastors/spouses are held to a higher standard than what some folk call 'regular' people. But, one should never forget that there are days when we are just 'regular' people. We want to sit back and enjoy life without always being under the microscope. We want to experience the joys and the pains of life without having to always be on display.
So, recently, I've been having more and more days where I just don't give a...
Some people will read this blog and say, "Oh, my God, I can't believe that she--a First Lady--is saying such a thing." But, if the truth be told, a lot of people feel the same way I do. They just don't have avenues to express it, or they are worried if the church is going to blast them for being something I call 'human'. I think as church leaders we have done our congregations an injustice by tempting them to believe that we have it all together. We have become public successes and private failures. As a result, no one is being delivered. No one is truly being set free. I am tired of the front. I am tired of the facade. I have decided that from now on, I am going to be me and feel what I'm going to feel. And, if I don't get the award for being the most super spiritual saint of the year, all is still well. As long as the life I'm living is ministering to someone--even if it means being transparent about my struggles--then I'll sleep at night. My grandmother used to always say, "Whatever you do for the Lord...just let it be real!"
So, let's keep it real, y'all! Take off the mask once and for all. Let the world see who you really are. Some days you'll feel like a warrior. Some days you'll feel you've never fought a battle in your life. Guess what? Either way it is okay. You are still a child of God. You will always belong to Him.
Sometimes I am on a spiritual high, and the devil himself can't get or take me down.
Then, there are times when I just really don't give a...
Today was one of those days. Tonight was one of those nights. So, as the old people used to say, "Pray my strength in the Lord!"
Can you handle that? ;-)
--
The One & Only,
D. Wash
First of all, please don't stone me for the title of this segment, ok?? You know I must keep it real. I had planned on continuing the story from the other day on this blog. But, I just wanted to share what's presently on my heart. I must admit. I had sort of a rough day. I'm sure you've had one of those before, too.
As I was saying the other day, church folk can be a hot mess! So, what tends to happen in the lives of church leaders after living a continuous life for other people; is you lose yourself--within yourself. You sorta forget that you have real feelings, real emotions, real hurts, and real pains. I know for me being a first lady, it has been hard trying to mask those things. But, that's what I was taught. Never let 'em see you sweat. Never let 'em see you cry. I truly believed at one point, that expressing emotions were a borderline sin unless you were jerking and twitching because you felt the Holy Spirit move you! I felt if I had a bad day, I was allowing the enemy to defeat me. I felt that if I thought the wrong thing, the Lord himself would send down legions of angels to chastise me. God forbid I made a mistake, or sinned on purpose--you couldn't convince me that life wouldn't be over for me and all of my blessings would cease. The pressure to live a near perfect life often times have been extremely overwhelming.
Now, don't get me wrong. I know that with this territory comes a different responsibility to stay above par. I realize that Pastors/spouses are held to a higher standard than what some folk call 'regular' people. But, one should never forget that there are days when we are just 'regular' people. We want to sit back and enjoy life without always being under the microscope. We want to experience the joys and the pains of life without having to always be on display.
So, recently, I've been having more and more days where I just don't give a...
Some people will read this blog and say, "Oh, my God, I can't believe that she--a First Lady--is saying such a thing." But, if the truth be told, a lot of people feel the same way I do. They just don't have avenues to express it, or they are worried if the church is going to blast them for being something I call 'human'. I think as church leaders we have done our congregations an injustice by tempting them to believe that we have it all together. We have become public successes and private failures. As a result, no one is being delivered. No one is truly being set free. I am tired of the front. I am tired of the facade. I have decided that from now on, I am going to be me and feel what I'm going to feel. And, if I don't get the award for being the most super spiritual saint of the year, all is still well. As long as the life I'm living is ministering to someone--even if it means being transparent about my struggles--then I'll sleep at night. My grandmother used to always say, "Whatever you do for the Lord...just let it be real!"
So, let's keep it real, y'all! Take off the mask once and for all. Let the world see who you really are. Some days you'll feel like a warrior. Some days you'll feel you've never fought a battle in your life. Guess what? Either way it is okay. You are still a child of God. You will always belong to Him.
Sometimes I am on a spiritual high, and the devil himself can't get or take me down.
Then, there are times when I just really don't give a...
Today was one of those days. Tonight was one of those nights. So, as the old people used to say, "Pray my strength in the Lord!"
Can you handle that? ;-)
--
The One & Only,
D. Wash
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
The Day I Realized I Didn't Like Church Folk!
Hey, blog-a-boo's!
I gotta get accustomed to this blog thing! Lol! I totally forgot to write something yesterday. Then again, am I supposed to write something everyday?? Oh, well...
So...I figured today I would talk a little about my childhood and growing up as a preacher's kid. The reason this is so important to note, is because you would think after seeing what my parents went through in church--and with church folk--the last thing I would do is marry a preacher!!! But, Lord have mercy. That's exactly what I did.
Growing up, it was fairly easy being a preachers kid. Although nobody knew my name, and only referred to me as being "Reverend Winter's daughter", my younger years went pretty smooth. It wasn't until I was around twelve years old that I begin to see the dark side of church and ministry. As a matter of fact, the first time I ever saw my dad cry was after a board meeting at church with a group of Deacons. So, from that day on, I despised Deacons. I thought they were all sent from hell--by the devil himself--to torture my daddy! You have to know that my dad was my hero, and it's a tough and hurting thing to watch your hero be brought to tears. O. Em. Gee. I wanted to march my twelve-year old little self right up to those Deacons, and kick them where my momma told me to kick any man who ever tried to hurt me. (Don't stone me, I was 12 y'all--lol!) And, if I had had the nerve to do it, I would have done it and would have taken the butt whooping I was sure to get later, with pride. (Told y'all I have to keep it real)
So, anyway, that was about the time when I started viewing ministry more as a burden than a blessing. I would watch people shout on Sunday mornings,and act like heathens at choir rehearsal. They would argue and bicker over who was going to lead this song, and which choir member they were NOT going to sit by. Just petty. But, seeing that even until this very day, I've never gotten an opportunity to choose my church, I had to observe such things--often in silence.
One Sunday morning, I decided to sit next to my mother. I was probably around fourteen years old at the time, which meant that it was a rare Sunday morning to find me sitting next to her. When I was growing up, it was a big deal when you were finally released to sit with your friends during church. But, on this particular day I decided to be a kid again. Service was underway, and before long an usher came strolling up to my mother, passing her a note. I turned away, but no sooner than I could refocus my attention on what my father was saying as he began his sermon; my mom was nudging me in my arm. She had tears in her eyes. Immediately, I thought maybe someone had died. I took the note from her shaking hands, and what I saw caused rage to swell up in me like an ocean's tide. I swung around to try and find the usher who had brought the note. I wanted to know where it had originated from. Not able to hold in her tears any longer, my mom rushed out the side door that led to my father's office. I was dead on her heels, because I wanted her to know that she should never let a hater see you cry.
Once in the office, she released her hurt and anger. I stood speechless not knowing what to do, as my mother cried. I wanted to punch the walls. I wanted to go grab the microphone from my father and challenge the note writer to a one-on-one outside. I wanted to tell my dad that he had to quit this church. First, I'd seen my father crying because of Deacons. Now, my mom was crying because of some insensitive woman who had written her a note that said, "I f*cked your husband last night." Some people said she should have ignored it. But, when you're already under pressure to present yourself as Superwoman, it doesn't take much for you to crack. And, that one note had her wondering so many things. Who sent it? What did she look like? Was it true? If it was true, did anyone else know? Yes, she wanted to trust her husband--she did trust him. Yes, she knew he had been at home with her the night before. But, had he been there the entire night? When you're caught off guard like that, the thoughts go from one extreme to another.
It was that day that I realized that I didn't like church folk. I had no problems with real Christians. But, church folk I couldn't stand.
Whew! I better stop right here for the night. Lol! I'll pick up tomorrow.
Until then, keep it 100!
The One & Only,
D. Wash
I gotta get accustomed to this blog thing! Lol! I totally forgot to write something yesterday. Then again, am I supposed to write something everyday?? Oh, well...
So...I figured today I would talk a little about my childhood and growing up as a preacher's kid. The reason this is so important to note, is because you would think after seeing what my parents went through in church--and with church folk--the last thing I would do is marry a preacher!!! But, Lord have mercy. That's exactly what I did.
Growing up, it was fairly easy being a preachers kid. Although nobody knew my name, and only referred to me as being "Reverend Winter's daughter", my younger years went pretty smooth. It wasn't until I was around twelve years old that I begin to see the dark side of church and ministry. As a matter of fact, the first time I ever saw my dad cry was after a board meeting at church with a group of Deacons. So, from that day on, I despised Deacons. I thought they were all sent from hell--by the devil himself--to torture my daddy! You have to know that my dad was my hero, and it's a tough and hurting thing to watch your hero be brought to tears. O. Em. Gee. I wanted to march my twelve-year old little self right up to those Deacons, and kick them where my momma told me to kick any man who ever tried to hurt me. (Don't stone me, I was 12 y'all--lol!) And, if I had had the nerve to do it, I would have done it and would have taken the butt whooping I was sure to get later, with pride. (Told y'all I have to keep it real)
So, anyway, that was about the time when I started viewing ministry more as a burden than a blessing. I would watch people shout on Sunday mornings,and act like heathens at choir rehearsal. They would argue and bicker over who was going to lead this song, and which choir member they were NOT going to sit by. Just petty. But, seeing that even until this very day, I've never gotten an opportunity to choose my church, I had to observe such things--often in silence.
One Sunday morning, I decided to sit next to my mother. I was probably around fourteen years old at the time, which meant that it was a rare Sunday morning to find me sitting next to her. When I was growing up, it was a big deal when you were finally released to sit with your friends during church. But, on this particular day I decided to be a kid again. Service was underway, and before long an usher came strolling up to my mother, passing her a note. I turned away, but no sooner than I could refocus my attention on what my father was saying as he began his sermon; my mom was nudging me in my arm. She had tears in her eyes. Immediately, I thought maybe someone had died. I took the note from her shaking hands, and what I saw caused rage to swell up in me like an ocean's tide. I swung around to try and find the usher who had brought the note. I wanted to know where it had originated from. Not able to hold in her tears any longer, my mom rushed out the side door that led to my father's office. I was dead on her heels, because I wanted her to know that she should never let a hater see you cry.
Once in the office, she released her hurt and anger. I stood speechless not knowing what to do, as my mother cried. I wanted to punch the walls. I wanted to go grab the microphone from my father and challenge the note writer to a one-on-one outside. I wanted to tell my dad that he had to quit this church. First, I'd seen my father crying because of Deacons. Now, my mom was crying because of some insensitive woman who had written her a note that said, "I f*cked your husband last night." Some people said she should have ignored it. But, when you're already under pressure to present yourself as Superwoman, it doesn't take much for you to crack. And, that one note had her wondering so many things. Who sent it? What did she look like? Was it true? If it was true, did anyone else know? Yes, she wanted to trust her husband--she did trust him. Yes, she knew he had been at home with her the night before. But, had he been there the entire night? When you're caught off guard like that, the thoughts go from one extreme to another.
It was that day that I realized that I didn't like church folk. I had no problems with real Christians. But, church folk I couldn't stand.
Whew! I better stop right here for the night. Lol! I'll pick up tomorrow.
Until then, keep it 100!
The One & Only,
D. Wash
Sunday, June 13, 2010
The Diary of A Mad First Lady
I get questions all of the time from readers wanting to know if my book is loosely based on my life. The answer is, "YES!" And, y'all should know that I'm not afraid to talk about anything that I've been through. I believe strongly in being as transparent with people as possible because I've ran into enough superficial, self-righteous people trying to live so holy that they can't share their struggles. I'ma just keep it real at all times!
So, in my book and in the books to come, I write and will write, about some things that have happened to me, as well as how I reacted to them. I can't say that I've always made the right decisions but I can say that I've tried to.
I got married when I was 16 years old. I became a first lady at the age of 17. Since that time, I've often wondered why somebody didn't slap me before I said, "I Do". Well, actually, they did try to slap me. I just slapped back. LOL! I was very adamant about getting married because I felt that was what God wanted me to do. I was NOT pregnant as I was rumored to be. I just simply did it because I felt I was obeying God. In hindsight, I don't know if I would do it all over again. Don't get me wrong; being a first lady has had its rewards, but the challenges that I've encountered has sometimes blinded me from the joys of both marriage and ministry.
I know people are interested in knowing personal details about my life, and in the next several blogs, I plan to share with all of you in the blog-a-sphere, several parts of my testimony. This won't be the blog for you if you're expecting to read about a perfect woman. But, it is the blog for you if you're ready to read about an imperfect woman who still struggles at times; but who serves a perfect God who is always waiting to pick me up when I fall.
In the meantime be blessed & keep it real!
The One & Only,
D. Wash
So, in my book and in the books to come, I write and will write, about some things that have happened to me, as well as how I reacted to them. I can't say that I've always made the right decisions but I can say that I've tried to.
I got married when I was 16 years old. I became a first lady at the age of 17. Since that time, I've often wondered why somebody didn't slap me before I said, "I Do". Well, actually, they did try to slap me. I just slapped back. LOL! I was very adamant about getting married because I felt that was what God wanted me to do. I was NOT pregnant as I was rumored to be. I just simply did it because I felt I was obeying God. In hindsight, I don't know if I would do it all over again. Don't get me wrong; being a first lady has had its rewards, but the challenges that I've encountered has sometimes blinded me from the joys of both marriage and ministry.
I know people are interested in knowing personal details about my life, and in the next several blogs, I plan to share with all of you in the blog-a-sphere, several parts of my testimony. This won't be the blog for you if you're expecting to read about a perfect woman. But, it is the blog for you if you're ready to read about an imperfect woman who still struggles at times; but who serves a perfect God who is always waiting to pick me up when I fall.
In the meantime be blessed & keep it real!
The One & Only,
D. Wash
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