Sunday, December 7, 2014

Holy Chic

Saturday, November 29, 2014

I'm pissed off


One day while shopping with one of my friends in high school, I discovered that she had a terrible habit of going into the dressing room at department stores and slipping the tags of designer clothes with clearance tags.  The day I learned that I was completely shocked. We both came from privileged families and never wanted for anything. Stealing was not something that ever crossed my mind. After I figured out what she was doing I never shopped with her again because I knew if she were ever caught, I would be the natural suspect. Surely the cute little blonde girl in her brand new sports car wouldn't be the one stealing. 

If she had been caught shoplifting no one would have ever called her a thug. 

So here we are. I was scrolling through Facebook yesterday taking a mental writing break and came across this post. It pissed me off, made me sad, hurt, confused the hell out of me because my only resolve was to think "you wouldn't understand." The response I received after that was filled with even more vitriol. 

"That was less of a statement and more of a fact. If you're going to rob a store and then assault a police officer, than you're a thug...period. If it walks like a thug, acts like a thug, and talks like a thug...then quack, it's a thug."

Pissed off. Sad. Hurt. Confused. What's left to say. She will never understand.

She'll never understand that at the age we met each other, I was smart enough to know that if me and one of my white friends were in the mall and my friend stole something, I'd most like get the blame. She'll never understand what it means to raise a little Black boy who may be called a "beast" just because of his skin and stature. She'll never know what it's like for little Black boy after little Black boy to be shot and killed in cold blooded murder and for their killers to get off without any consequence for the life they took because they were "scared" of our son's skin color. She'll never understand.

She'll never understand that her three little white boys will get a chance that our son's won't just because of the color of their skin.  That should they be pulled over by a cop, they won't immediately become a threat just because of the color of their skin. She'll never understand what it's like to know that my little Black boy is 21% more likely to be killed than her little white boys. She'll never understand what it's like to have a White friend call Black boys a thug. Then throw it around as if it justifies them being murdered. 

She'll never understand and she'll continue to justify her hurtful words without thinking twice of why it's not ok. 

That's the world my little brown boy is growing up in. 

I'm pissed off. 

I'll leave you with this well articulated response to another person's misguided ignorance of the facts. http://benotafraidoffear.tumblr.com/post/103724293886/mike-brown-wasnt-some-innocent-child-he-was-a

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Casual Saturdays


Busy weeks and busy weekends call for this mama to find a casual style that's comfy and chic. We're in the last of our soccer season with Munchkin playing in a tournament this weekend. Go Rebels!

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Survive


Over the past few weeks I've been doing a lot of surviving.   You know that moment when you know God is getting ready to propel you into something you were created for that's bigger than you could have ever imagined? The attack that comes with that is almost unbelievable. That's how I know God is at work.

The movie reel of every mistake I've ever made has been playing over and over. Of course I surrender it immediately, but gosh that glimpse can be hard to cope with. I'm so imperfect, y'all. I've made a lot of mistakes. A lot. I've lived imperfectly. It ain't always been pretty.

Last night in an argument, my ex-husband reminded me that during the height of our marriage falling apart I threatened to kill myself.  I have searched every inch of my memory to remember that and I can't recall it. I can't remember every saying that or in what moment I would say that but that's how dark it was.  Even though I can't remember it I don't dispute it. People don't realize how much despair one walks through when they are desperate.  I feel a need to share this in this moment because I honestly don't remember those words ever being spoken from my lips or those thoughts forming in my head, but I don't want to be that good Christian who is never honest about some of my darkest moments.  Who doesn't openly share the valleys I've been through and who sits on the mountain top looking down at those in the valley as if I've never been there.

I've been there ya'll.  

That's what this walk is about, isn't it?  To live through our valley moments so that when we do get to the mountain top we can use our testimony from the valley to encourage and inspire those living their own valley moments to just keep walking...keep living.  I remember when the Psalmist wrote "Come and hear, all you who fear God; let me tell you what he has done for me." Psalm 66:16.  There is full life ahead that is so grand you won't even remember just how much despair you really were in.  The dark comes to show us just how glorious the light is.

I loved the recent commentary that accompanied that scripture recently:

There is power in our stories. The account of a changed life can give a weary heart hope. You may think that you don’t know the Bible well enough, but we overcome the enemy by the blood of Jesus who forgives our sins, the power of our story and not shrinking back from telling that story. Being a witness is not being an expert; it is telling others what you have seen, felt and heard. We can all do that.
I wholeheartedly believe this. Even though I was reminded of these dark days in an attempt to hurt me, I'm grateful for the reminder.  I'm grateful to know that I have walked over glass and through fire but still smiled. We're all surviving something. 

I want to thank you for surviving.

Monday, October 13, 2014

Balloon Fiesta

Every October magic happens in Albuquerque.  It's called the International Balloon Fiesta and it brings travelers from all over the world to witness a sky full of hot air balloons. We are so fortunate to have this in our backyard and for us locals, the smell of gas lighting the balloons, the crispness of air, breakfast burritos, and hot chocolate signals that Fall is here.




During the first weekend of the fiesta this year, I volunteered with my church to spread the word about Spoken For NM. High tourist times in New Mexico bring much excitement and attention but also expose some of the darkest elements of our society. Spoken For NM exists to bring attention to human trafficking in our state and to raise awareness of these activities, which often increase during high tourist seasons. 


The second week I went all for fun with my little one. It was raining so admission was free and parking was free (a nice surprise). 



Even with the rain there was still plenty for us to see, do, and enjoy!



I love the Fiesta. For those from New Mexico, what's your favorite part? For those out of state, would you ever consider coming to NM for the balloon fiesta?





Friday, October 3, 2014

Domestic Violence Awareness Month


October is domestic violence awareness month. There are so many important issues to raise awareness about but this issue is one I am devoted to making sure does not slip into the shadows.

Here is my latest op-ed piece published in the Valencia County New Bulletin.

Until the violence stops...


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