People Always Fail, God Never Does

I was told one of my posts was too long. So here's the short and sweet version. In the past few days, I've witnessed what happens when people fail other people both in my personal life and in the public spotlight. The problem is not that someone failed somebody, but rather that the somebody had too much faith in the someone. If you catch an unsavory character doing an unsavory act there won't be too much surprise. Perhaps one would still be disgusted or even offended, but not shocked or appalled. However, if you catch a righteous person doing an unsavory act you're going to be floored! Both scenarios include unsavory actions, but only one ends in devastation.

I have to KEEP learning this lesson the hard way. I keep letting people get too much access and putting them on pedestals that are way too high. Eventually winds blow or the ground shakes and it all comes crashing down to the ground. The humanity is shown, wrong is done, and hurt it felt. What's worse is that I KNOW I take things to heart and am somewhat sensitive. So while I'm processing whatever emotions and many times getting physically sick, the other person is living their life carefree. At the very least, they are not thinking about me and our strained relationship.

What does this mean? Realistically, I cannot change the part of me that has a sensitive heart. I tried and failed. Plus, there's a reason why God made me the way I am. On the flip side because my heart is the way it is, sometimes God allows me to feel empathy for those that no one else sees. Since, I can't change my characteristics, I can change the way I manage myself. If you're anything like me, perhaps these words will bless you too.

In order to avoid further heartbreak I must:

Fully rely on God alone: Godly people are not God. It doesn't matter how sweet or on the path they may seem. They will fail me. Why spend time fussing with the creation when you can interact DIRECTLY with the Creator?

Realize that everyone else is in progress too. No matter how much I want people to be whole, they are works in progress just like I am. I shouldn't be so taken aback when their humanity shows through the cracks. God's not through working yet.

Hold firm to a godly standard of appropriate and inappropriate ways for people to interact with me. If I make it clear (to myself as much to other people) that I only accept certain kinds of treatment, hold fast to that standard! DO NOT say one thing and then change my mind trying to appease that person. Straight up: anyone who can't treat me right doesn't need to be in my life. There's only growth or decay. THERE IS NO IN BETWEEN OR STANDING STILL!

Anyway, this is already too long. I'm done for the day. Peace.

Jill Scott's "Nothing is for Nothing"

I love this poem. Unfortunately it hits close to home for a lot of women I know. Me included.

Video here:

http://www.goldmic.com/video/Def-Jam-Poetry-Jill-Scott-quot-nothing-Is-For-Nothing-quot/22020

Lyrics here:

I had been turning tricks longer than I actually knew it.
Being whatever they wanted me to be whenever they wanted me to be it.
A freak, inside, outside kitchen counters, laundry mats, two at a time,
hotels, motels, and backseats of leased cars, vans and jeeps.
Made myself like it ’cause they liked it and I liked that they liked it
and so I continued being the perfect image of a wet dream.
Nasty, wild, exotic, erotic.
Freak was they wanted so freak was who I was.
And everybody was walking around talking about me.
Like teenage pregnancy wasn’t becoming synonymous with being black and woman.
Like America wasn’t suffocating our thoughts.
Like there was nothing to talk about what was doing or screwing.
And I thought the whole damn thing was ridiculous, which it was.
‘Cause I was content giving my men a little heaven
between their struggle to breathe and contemplation of suicide.
Wasn’t I good for the cause?
Closed mind, open legs, making niggas forget why they’re so damn angry.
Wasn’t I good?
Then the mood swung as well the tempo and I became an ideal.
They want her pretty and docile, caring and stupid
and there I was on your Mark, Seth, Joe and I was Suzy Homemaker on the hunt for love;
Cooking and cleaning, ironing and faithful and a freak cause that’s what they liked
and I liked being what they liked so what they liked was who I was.
A prostitute, selling my soul for emotional gain,
struggling not to be the third generation of lonely women in my family.
Struggling to gain but gaining nothing but confusion, frustration, illusion, ’cause there was no love,
just empty condom wrappers on the floors to be discarded like me.
A prize performer long before I actually knew it too,
’cause I was faking me out of the me I would become.
The me that I see now.
The me that holds onto herself with both hands and all feet.
The me who must have love and give it.
The me who brings more to the table than good looks and a wet hole.
The me that is confident, and intelligent and filled to the brim with respect for me.
And a freak ’cause that’s what I like and I like being what I like and what I like is all a part of what I am.

Sometimes it gets lonely on the battlefield

Imagine you're a soldier in a large company assigned to overnight duty in preparation for an early morning assault in a strange land. (Disclaimer: I am not a military person AT ALL so if this is incorrect, just focus on the point of the story.) It's cold, dark, and wet in the trench where you're posted. You know that there are hundreds of other soldiers in the area doing the same thing that you're doing, but you're separated from them so the contact is limited. You may be able to occasionally check and see if they're ok and vice versa, but for the most part you're on your own. You can't fall alseep and you can't call home. You just have to be on guard with your weapons ready for the next order. You don't know what that order will be nor do you know when it will come, but the moment it does you must spring to action. So what do you do in between? You wait, make sure everything is in order, and keep an eye on your surroundings.

I've never been in the military, but I can completely relate to that scenario. I am in this particular space and time because I have a specific work to do. I'm not exactly sure what it is, how I'm to do it, or when I will know that I've completed the task, but I'm here. Like any war vet, I've seen my fair share of casualties and experienced hardships. This is what gives me the sense enough to stay put and not try and take the reigns. So now I'm (almost) content with the uncertainty, but sometimes it gets lonely on the battlefield.

Just over a year ago, I started a whole new life and moved 676 miles away from home. The transition was ROUGH, but a year later and I'm still surviving and thriving. One of the lessons I learned the hard way (several times I may add) was to let God do what He does. I often tried to fill my space with people and stuff when He wanted me to be quiet and listen. The more I rebelled, the more awful was the repentance and atonement process. This is ESPECIALLY true in the realm of male-female relationships! If I got paid for every time I hugged when I should have given a handshake (literally and figuratively) I would have enough tuition for all of the students at my alma mater. I spent so much time running to get to the destination that I didn't realize I was supposed to take a walk and enjoy the scenery. It's quite possible that after experiencing one too many set of repercussions that I'm scarred. It's also possible that scarring is what was necessary to get me to the place of optimal growth.

Today I said two different types of goodbyes. I had three friends visiting with me for the holiday weekend and they all left earlier today. I enjoyed our time together but we're all in graduate and professional school and our demanding lives require our attention. We knew that Monday would come, but it still sucked to bid farewell. It seemed like the weekend flew by so quickly! We know we're going to see each other again (hopefully sooner rather than later), so this was more of a see you later type of goodbye. Still, I felt a tinge of sadness.

The other goodbye I said was to a part of myself. I was having a "conversation" (can long text message exchanges really be counted as a conversation?) with a gentleman friend of mine. At one point there was romantic interest shared between us, but we realized that we would be better as friends. Nothing bad happened and all the factors that made us attractive to one another remain intact. However, we made a conscious decision to do what's best long term at the expense of short term satisfaction. I'm proud of us for doing it this way instead of vice versa. When I think about it, I still agree with the decision and so does he.

Still, my logical thinking doesn't eradicate the part of me that desires intimate companionship. Intimacy in this context does NOT mean sexual stimulation. I'm referring to someone with whom you can share your innermost feelings and thoughts. For a short while, this friend was that for me. In our "conversation" it became clear that in order to fulfill our personal shared and individual goals, our interactions would never be the same as they once were. Furthermore, I had to say goodbye to the part of me that likes to try and slowly veer over into the path marked "off limits".

Anyone who knows me knows I like to push the envelope. Testing boundaries is an integral part of who I am, but there is a time and place for everything. Now is a time to respect the boundaries both in this specific relationship and in my interactions in general. It's clear that this is not a time for dating. {Sidenote: The concept of dating should be completely erased from my mind and the minds of anyone else who is serious about their mission. Courtship > dating.} I cannot be an effective soldier if I am bogged down by the cares of this life including, but certainly not limited to, the opposite sex. Now is the time to focus my energy on the task at hand and be alert so that I may clearly receive and execute my next set of instructions.

BUT

Sometimes it gets lonely on the battlefield. Sometimes you want to have someone to talk to late at night. Sometimes you wish there was a way someone else could guard your post so that you could do something more fun. Sometimes you just want to go to sleep (and it would be cool if someone else were in the bed with you - let's keep it 100)! So what is there to do during those lonely moments? I would imagine that a soldier probably thinks of his or her family back home: parents who are both proud and scared, siblings and cousins who are missing their running buddy, and children for whom they sacrifice everything including their lives. If the soldier joined the war effort because they believe in the integrity and truth of the mission may remind themselves of the pride they felt the day they enlisted. Still other soldiers may remind themselves of other instances where they felt similar sensations of isolation and abandonment and persevered. All of these are great coping mechanisms.

This soldier has done all of the above. I realize that I do what I do not just for me, but for countless generations before and after me. I believe that the journey that I'm on will lead to a mighty end. I can endure a bought with skin hunger or depression because what I'm about to do is worth so much more. Finally, I can think back on other times where I felt overwhelming feelings of hopeless desolation and see how I don't feel that way about those situations anymore.

The battle isn't over and I still have a long way to go, but I'm encouraged. I hope the reader is too. Stay alert and be ready for the next set of instructions.

*salute*

Into, intro, intro, introDUCING....

This is my third attempt at blogging. Third time's a charm right? Anywho I'd like to give a quick intro to the blog. I'm Joci and I have a lot of opinions. Those who know me would probably say that is the understatement of the year. I am passionate about several things in life and I love to explore ideas and concepts. I've been wanting to blog for a while, but I'm always too busy talking of living life to do so. Recently, I've discovered that the process of writing my thoughts offers a gift that I can't adequately describe. So, I'm trying to do it more. What prompted this attempt is what will be the subject of the next post. I keep finding that there are events, feelings, thoughts, etc. that I want to capture but calling someone doesn't always seem to be the best fit. So I'll write.

The title of the blog is a nod to one of my influences. Steve Biko was an anti-apartheid freedom fighter in South Africa. He lived from December 18, 1946 until his murder at the hands of South African police on September 12, 1977. Before his death, Biko was placed under banning order by the South African government. Some of the restrictions were that he could not write anything, he could not address crowds, he could only be in the same room with one person at at time, he had to stay in a specific banning area, he was subject to random inspection, and he was under surveillance at all times. Despite the harsh restrictions, Biko continued to spread his message of Black Consciousness. One of his methods was an article in the South African Students Organization's newsletter written under the pseudonym Frank Talk. The title of the article was "I Write What I Like" and he did just that.

This space is similar. While I definitely seek to follow in the footsteps of Biko, Huey Newton, Frantz Fanon, Walter Rodney, etc., I do not have a one track mind. Life, love, and faith may also be common themes. I feel no need to be bound by any particular parameters. So here's to writing what I like...

P.S. The title of this post is a nod to my class step team from undergrad. OHH-NINE!!!!