You are on the right path. Listen more to Me, and less to your doubts. I am leading you along the way I designed just for you. Therefore, it is a lonely way, humanly speaking. But I go before you as well as alongside you, so you are never alone. Do not expect anyone to understand fully My ways with you, any more than you can comprehend My dealings with others. I am revealing to you the path of Life day by day, and moment by moment. As I said to My disciple Peter, so I repeat to you. Follow Me.

She sobbed until the tears wanted to fall but there were none to command. She felt a halo of lightness all around. She at first was afraid to notice. She did not want to scare the new moment away. So for very long passable moments she sat very still. And then without a clear sense of purpose she extended her hands into the air, upward to where she expected God to be and in a low yet distinguishable tone she spoke aloud,

"Lord leave me unashamed, unrestrained and set free. Allow me to live with a knowing purpose. Give me light where now I find only darkness. Allow me to see me as you see me. Create in me a new beginning with tomorrows filled with anticipation. Do not allow me to continue to live on my belly looking down, feeling down, behaving unworthy and down trodden. Allow me to live knowing, believing, and expecting victory where now there is only a weightiness of defeat."

"I am believing you at your word. Now I command you as my Lord and my shepherd to take back what the devil has stolen. Step out in front of my enemies and lead me onward toward the promised land. You said seek and I will find.  I am a willing vessel. Fix me so I might serve you with a fullness of  heart. Allow my eyes to see a better way that only you could have prepared. Allow my works to be fixed on creating a new path leading to righteous outcomes where you get all the glory. I rejoice in knowing you have never left me. You are with me always.  I will never be alone. And as a chosen child of your creation I WILL NOT live my life lost at this intersection of Lonely and Alone. You created me for greatness!"

Amen.

She knew something inside her was not as it should be. It was mostly just a feeling. A Feeling that did not go away easily. Sometimes it subsided some. Kind of resting only to rebuild its strength, tucked down but never hidden. And the hardest thing about carrying around this unwelcomed guest inside her was the undeniable fact that she became completely used to keeping it around. It was the intersection of LONELY and ALONE. And what added complete insult to her injury was no one else suspected except the intersection and herself. I think the intersection liked it that way.

When you see her out she appeared to be all put together. She showed up on time and stayed until it was unfashionably obvious it was time to go home. She smiled through cracked upward grins. She repeated jokes she had heard others laugh at on previous occasions. She pitched in when the check came. She "friended" those she met for the first time in real time, just to appear social and accessible.

At the end of the night and she turned on her street, she knew things inside her would become untucked and the intersection would join her wherever it found her. And so it went. And so it was for her.

At the crossroads of that intersection she sat, like a body being enveloped by a foam mattress. It swallowed her whole and inside she felt completely helpless to do anything substantial about it. So she surrendered always to that intersection.

She heard a story on the news that she wasn't even watching. The true story of a tragic car accident on a freeway. An innocent car driving along sideswiped by another causing the struck car to veer off the highway and become enveloped in flames. Thanks be to God the driver was pulled to safety seconds before the car itself blew up in combustible flames. When the fire was extinguished the only remaining element of any kind was the KING JAMES BIBLE sitting unscorched on the passenger seat, pristine in presentation.

And with this knowing, she did what she should have done a long time ago. With this knowing she opened her Bible and began to pray.

I remember a time when I used to work out with a personal trainer. I only lasted as long as I did because he was super cute. It's true. I did not like working out. It wasn't until I started seeing results did I even think it was worth the time I had invested. I made excuses for not going. Once I was there I gave even more excuses for not giving it my all. My behavior was all very silly really as the personal trainer got paid either way. I was not fooling anyone. I could tell at times his patience was being tested by my obvious lack of exertion. But even with my bother to this super-cute trainer, I still went in there thinking only about how quickly I could get out. Fast forward a few months and I quit going. Of course I told Mr. Cutie I would be back, just taking a little break I insisted. That break has lasted nearly two years.  Then one day I ran into him. What he told me, caught me. It stunned my senses.

He says, when you are ready I will be here. When you do come back though be prepared to sweat. If you are not able or not ready to work for the results that will inevitably come don't come back. The body will only do what the mind allows it to do. If your head isn't in it your body never will be.

He was calling me out and we both knew it. He ended by saying this. I am willing to meet you where you are but I must know you want to become better. Once you train your muscle it will remember. And once it remembers it will not take as much effort to maintain what you worked so hard to achieve. The hard part is believing you can and will get there. There is no proxy for the hard work. You must be willing to own the journey every step of the way. Everything you do, everything you think, everything you put inside of you will either help you or hurt you toward achieving the goal you have set for yourself.

As he turned to leave he says, "You must always be keenly aware of what you want. There is no rest for one who has unfinished work."

He was talking about my physical body and the only thing I could think of is my Spiritual development. There is no rest for one who has unfinished work. No one can stand in for you in your spiritual development. You must be willing to do the work. And once you become who you want to be, your entire self will remember. There is no gain in faking it. When you are truly ready He will meet you where you are, but until you are ready no need trying to convince others you are something you are not.  The hardest part is making the choice to get ready and show up and never ever give up. The muscle will remember. The muscle is our spirit. 

Our lives are made up of a trillion opportunities. It is interesting that in the bible there are 38 verses specifically related to choice. Most of these refer to the choice of knowing Jesus. The bible talks about basing our choices on God's word. The beautiful thing is that our life is made up of infinite choices. It is in the choosing that we become who we become.

I hear people talk all the time about what is missing in their life. By inference I take it they mean that one, they seek something they have never had, or alternatively, they want back something that was taken from them. Whichever their meaning, they are without something that in one way or another has some value to them. So what does a reasonably minded person do when they are missing something? They try to find it right? Well not really and not always. Some people seem to get greater satisfaction out of the telling of what is missing than the seeking of that which is missing. They choose to remain lost to that which they proclaim belongs to them. How is that? I think I know.

It is because if they find it, there comes with that the added burdened responsibility of having it. Whether they admit it or not. They have made a choice to elude the very thing they say they need. We can be talking about companionship, new job, better education, new craft/skills, breaking the yoke of destructive vices. Unless you have made the choice to find a better way, you have by default made a choice to remain lost to all that is missing in your life. You can't have it both ways. Either you are being drawn toward that which is bringing you into light or you are complacent in its darkness. Light and dark do not appear at the same time.

So here is something to consider. We were not created to be missing in anything. Never in anything of God is there room for a thing to manifest in a state of lack. God is about creating opportunity for his chosen. And in that He wants us to seek Him and what he is chopping at the bit to reveal to us, He will put bait on our hook each and every day. In every aspect of our day there is bait being presented to us. He does this by having people intercept our lives, occurrences we might call happy coincidences perhaps. He does this by allowing for moments of correction in our course. Things we might call set backs. In all of this, there is His bait. And as God, He gives us the free reign of choice. He is a patient God waiting for our nibble. And if and when we choose to take the bait, He will take us upstream to a place of our greatest catch and to all that we thought was lost.

It was never lost or missing. We just had not yet made the choice to find it. It was never lost, we were.

Everything I am about to tell you about money, begins and ends with education. I can say this because I do not have a trust fund. And I already used up my forty acres and a mule.

On my fortieth birthday, one of my closest friends asked me, "How does it feel to be a millionaire?" This was not a question I was prepared to answer. CONTINUED

I wanted to say a million dollars is not a lot of money. But how would that make me look and sound? I wanted to say a million dollars is a lot of quarters. That is how I really felt. I wanted to say money changes you. It takes a whole lot of self-awareness to live with money. And you can never ever fall in love with it. Money does not work that way. Money does not love back. And no amount of money is a panacea for any amount of unaddressed pain.

I have much respect for the value of money since my early days of growing up without a lot of it around to count. When I first began to acquire wealth I knew things would be different. I grew up saving money. I also tithed 10% of anything I had in terms of money beginning at age 13. That continues today. I graduated from college with $13,000 in the bank. On the day before graduation, I was sold a brand new Ford Escort straight off the lot and I did not have a driver's license. I had only a permit.

So my experience with money has been saving it. Outside of lifestyle-sustaining necessities, I like spending it only when it creates more wealth, or when I am helping someone in need, or when I am creating a memory. Most everything I spend money on falls into one of these categories. And this has worked for me.

I have made mistakes in each of these categories too, big ones. Hundreds of thousands of dollars in bad investment deals, money given to help someone and they were not good stewards of the blessing, or paying too much for vacation because I had the dates all wrong and had to pay hefty surcharges. But these too have shaped my treatment of money. Through my and my husband's  generosity we have provided fantastic opportunities for others, mostly anonymously. Once we paid private school tuition for a year for a African-American young man whose parents simply ran out of money. We never learned who he was, we only knew he really needed it. We have sent people on mission trips to South Africa, they never knew where the blessing came from. We have loaned our family down payments for first time home ownership. That kind of stuff.

But we have also said no. We have said no a lot. I have gotten better at it. Like I said, money changes you. Not only those with it, but also those looking in on those with it. I don't give or loan money to anyone who brings with them a spirit of expectancy. No one comes out ahead. No one. I should also mention I rarely ever loan money any longer. I must be willing to give it before I can loan it. Otherwise lots of feelings get hurt, starting with mine.

So why is all of this important? For me this is the point. You can never do enough, spend enough, give enough in God's eyes if done through a prism of his purpose. He is always waiting to outdo you. He has and he will repay our giving. I believe those that have should give with a giving heart. It is a test of our stewardship over gifts from above no matter big or small. And when we show ourselves worthy and ready, he will give more and more and more, until there is not enough room in our storehouse to receive it.

My growing wealth is a true testament to my obedience and his promises kept. Every time I do something with his name on it, he completely blows my mind. And there is no monetary value I can place on that!

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Everything I am about to tell you about money, begins and ends with education. I can say this because I do not have a trust fund. And I already used up my forty acres and a mule.

Let's establish that I grew up poor and on welfare. Well Momma was on welfare. She always worked 2-3 jobs too. She cleaned office buildings, she was a bartender at the Elks Club and she at one time worked I am not exactly sure doing what at a hospital. She worked hard, that I know. I tell people from age of about nine, I was raised on quarters. That was her tip money and she rolled them in quarter rolls. She would save those quarter rolls and she handed them over sometimes unwrapped to buy things. Groceries, thrift store clothes, meat, shoes, school supplies, bus fare, gas. One quarter roll equaled 40 coins or $10. I remember that. I remember too my wayward brother stealing from these wraps, we all did at some time or another. Just to get a little something innocuously extra for ourselves. I have always respected the quarter to this very day. I love quarters. My mother worked extremely hard for rolled quarters.

One Christmas the only things under the Christmas tree were assorted Christmas fruit someone gave Momma and two unwrapped skateboards. One for the girls to share and one for the boys to share. The only thing I could think of that morning staring under that tree was Wow! Momma did a great job with the tree this year. Everything else was a complete blur of childhood sadness.

My parents achieved GED educations, most everyone in my immediate family did. I was a breakout, and chased book smarts. Now, let's be clear, they got PHDs in street smarts, no doubt about that. But those stories I will save for another time.

With my college education from Howard University, I leveraged a Harvard Business education to follow. With these two scripts added to my DNA, my life would change profoundly. On my fortieth birthday, one of my closest friends asked me at my roasting among 20 other friends, "How does it feel to be a millionaire?" This was not a question I was prepared to answer. It isn't even a question I had ever been asked before. So I fumbled it. I sort of went for a two point punt rather than go all in on my response. I think I was caught off guard and maybe even a bit embarrassed by the question.

I do know that if asked today, I would have a surprisingly different response. My thinking about money and wealth might surprise you, but I hope it also helps you by seeing a profoundly transparent perspective. END OF PART ONE

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Sometimes I still scratch my head that I am a married woman. No really. I did not grow up with real role models in the area of love relationships. I just didn't. Mostly I saw illustrations of people trying to recreate love, hang onto love, get love back, pretend not to love, fake love for gain or something like that. And when love failed, I saw the extreme opposite. This was when people around me tried to hurt the ones they love. This kind of love was hard to watch. But not only did I watch it, I studied it. It rubbed off on me too.

So I carried some pretty bad love habits into my early relationships. When I saw my love getting tested, I sabotaged it. This was my defense mechanism not to be carried downstream with love as it drifted away. I acted unbecoming of love just to keep from hurting more than what I saw coming. I was not going down alone. It was nothing for me to break up with someone for reasons in my mind, not of my heart. Again, I drew on what I saw in my surroundings growing up.

It would take a pretty strong-minded person to wrestle my love to the ground. And that time came in 1990. He was fine, he was balding, and he dressed straight out of GQ magazine. He spoke about worldly things, he was a gentleman. He did not ask me for anything above what I demonstrated I was able and willing to provide. His values had deep roots. He was a keeper.

But it did not take long before my bad love habits came out to play and they tested the resolve of the relationship. What I remember is him saying, I am not going anywhere so stop behaving as if I am.

When he proposed to me he did so under a couple of conditions. First he insisted I stop swearing. My response was oh damn! Second I had to promise him I would never ever divorce him. He said, I want to leave a legacy with you and I never want you to start this if you are unwilling to finish it. That was nearly 30 years ago.

I became love able only when I loved me more than him. I became love able when I loved him as much as he loved me. I became lovable when I could show him love no matter how I was feeling.

Because above all, love was the promise I made to him and the promise I keep to myself. In all things return to love. Love is the most important of all. I tell my young friends all the time, in most matters, he will test everything about your relationship against your love for him and his love for you. If you have love, you have a chance at forever.

The world is made up of the most textured souls. People who are built in layers. You ever felt as though you have known someone all of your life but never really had the sense you really knew them? Ever claim you know everything there is to know about someone but when tested your "knowing" is superficial, never got off first base?

People are really good at hiding behind their true selves. We all share what we want others to know. What you don't know, we don't want you to know. I see it everyday. People who paint these pictures of themselves by enlisting artifacts and tangibles. Things like the house they live in, car they drive, their choice in clothes, shoes, jewelry, where they send their kids to play, the things they spend their time talking about. All items stitched into their layers designed to display a canvas of something they are fully invested in you believing. And God help planet earth if you don't take notice. If you act arbitrary or indifferent toward their canvas. What then?

I think this painting on display is all well and good, all be it I much prefer seeing a few additional  layers stitched in. These layers I call the plain Jane layers. Plain Jane because they can't be bought. They are not for sale. They don't come on parking lots, on store shelves or from dialing 1-800 numbers. They are values. Values that don't come off and on depending on who is stopping by or who else is expected to be there or because it is nice to be seen in it. These layers exist because they are innately a part of knowing you.

They don't look for attention, they are the attention. They are things like, honesty, integrity, sharing, caring, listening, sticking, trusting. They are layers woven into consistency, predictability, available, and lasting. They are layers like discretion, flexible, and loyal. Values that once they land they stay put no matter who is looking.

And you will know you have them if someone is asked to describe how they know you and they don't begin or end with  a single artifact or tangible.

So as I was being fired by this 20-something I just looked at her, nothing more. She came out of her haze of words mid-sentence and asked, “What’s wrong? Why aren’t you saying anything?” I responded, “I would like you to finish. Are you finished?” This young pea-pod looked like she had soiled her diaper or something. What did she think I was going to do, wig out? So while she was daggering this mischief of firing my way, in the meantime Jesus had already taken over my body and my tongue. And as fully as your heart will allow you to believe, he said this to me unmistakably, “Don’t you say a word to her. Let me do the talking. Don’t speak. Let her finish and look her in the eyes.” And then he spoke, “Why do you carry me around inside of you, if you won’t bring me out?” Left on my own, I wanted to smack the sweet milk out of her young mouth or put her in time out, I wasn’t sure which. My turn.
 
First I turned to my “friend” who looked like she mouthed, “I’m sorry.” I looked at her with eyes that said you had your chance to fix this and you chose this. I will deal with you later. In truth, she hired me, she should have fired me. She sent in a rookie.
 
Then I turned to the young sap and I said, “While I appreciate your interest in my family, they fully understand when I am expected home and as always, whenever that time, we will be most joyous to be reunited. My work speaks for itself. I will make no effort and feel no need to defend it here. I will invoice in full for the entire commitment I planned to make to this effort and that you on good faith intended. I think I will have a bite to eat. While doing so, I am happy to capture in writing, the much anticipated  insights from the remaining night’s groups of which our distinguished and most eager colleague will be moderating.” And then I sat down. I ate alone, the leper in a sea of dodging stares.
 
Fast forward to the end of the night on what would have been the eve of NYC the next day. While debriefing as one big group I sat quietly. Then I heard this deep husky voice from the back of the room, I think his name was Nick. He was the most senior person present and the true client, US MARINES. He said, “Why don’t we hear from the earlier moderator. What do you think are the key insights from tonight’s groups? What should we take from this?”

And as if Jesus put me on a soft red carpet, I moved around that room like I was holding court. You could hear a pin drop. My thoughts were fantastically clear. I used carefully crafted word illustrations to paint what if’s beyond what we had heard that day.  I sounded sure, concise, organized, and profoundly innovative in my thinking. Their eyes followed me around that room thirsty for more. My articulation danced in rhythm to what they needed to hear. They, ALL of them, were drowning in jubilation. And when I was done, Nick said, “Wow, I can’t wait to see what NYC brings. You will be in NYC right?” And before I could answer Miss 20-something jumps to her feet and spews as loudly as  the room could comfortably tolerate, “Of course she will. We can’t wait for NYC!”
 
 
EPILOGUE:
Following NYC, my “friend” asked to talk to me over drinks. I had totally ignored her after Chicago to this point.  It had become sad and awkward between us. I was angry and confused by her actions. She had even asked me not to speak in NYC, to defer to her if the client wanted any additional insights. I didn’t. During drinks she started confessing that she had sabotaged me from the beginning in order that she would be able to take over moderating. She was successful in convincing the new to the business, 20-something that I was going about moderating poorly.  Hence the firing. She apologized and even as the words left her mouth, I knew our friendship  and any future collaboration was impossible and unwelcome by me.
 
When I returned to Atlanta, I sent my “friend” an invoice for all of what I expected to earn. She paid promptly, then came a call in the night. She needed my help to finish the project strong. Would I help her off the clock, write her final client report for the project? And though I said no, Jesus spoke for me and said yes.

I have been working non-stop since I first started working at say about 12 years old. My first job was baby-sitting. So that gives me about 40 years in the work force. Pretty decent I would say. Since my days of baby-sitting, I have also worked drive-thru at a fast food restaurant, been a sale clerk at classy boutique in the mall, been a sales lady at a department store in women's clothing, a paid summer intern and so on. Since getting my post college education from Harvard Business School, I have been carving out a living in marketing, leading teams of smart people along the way. My last job is working for myself. And this is where this story begins.

We will need to go back just a few years. I was say 46 or so. Like literally hundreds of times before, I was referred to do research consulting as a focus group moderator. For me, pretty pedestrian. It is what I do. The difference is the person hiring me wanted to do the job of moderating the groups herself but her client said no, we want La Detra. Therein lies the rub, but I will get to that soon enough. So I am hired by someone I knew fairly well, even counted her a friend, to moderate several focus groups in several cities including Chicago and New York for her clients, THE US MARINES and a notable international ad agency. The clients wanted to know how African American mothers feel about allowing their son(s) to enlist. Easy enough I thought. Not so.

So I am doing my thang like only I can. Something I have been hired to do by Fortune 100 companies all over the country for well let's just say a very long time and for a whole lot of money. Several times that first night of working in Chicago I am called out of the room where I was conducting discussion groups with "my clients" the participants into the hallway. Each time I was told by a young 20-something I was doing something egregiously wrong. Much to my chagrin this went on several times. Each time I was brought to the hallway the air got thicker, and "my clients" back in the room looked more and more confused and concerned.

On about the 4th time, I looked at my "friend" and she could not look at me. She did not look at me. Then I heard these oh so patronizing words from this 20-something from the ad agency and I quote, "Well this is not working out. I am sure you would rather be back home with your husband and children. We are going to go in another direction. Feel free to stay and have a bite to eat, but we will not need your services any longer. "X" (my friend), will be conducting the remaining groups for this project. It is still early, perhaps you can still get a flight out tonight."

And then this is what I said......END OF PART ONE. By all means grab a seat. This gets really good.

I write a lot about pain. I never planned to until I started doing it. I get messages and feedback from men and women alike saying thank you, somebody had to do it. Well no one did, but I do. It helps me and I now believe it helps others. Experiencing pain is a universal truth. Everyone does and everyone will. I invite pain in. I do this by making myself available to others to sit with them as they try to regain their footing. A group of my girlfriends tell me I must slow down. What they say is when you take on somebody else's story it becomes a part of you. They say I must look for ways to be a conduit but also be able to leave other's stories at the altar of prayer. Don't let their stories stay with me. I get that. It is the energy in those stories that get in you and changes you. So I look for ways to turn over pain to God. Through dealing with my own lifetime pain, I am getting better at this. Placing pain at the altar and leaving it there.

Thanks be to God, pain in temporary. Romans 8:18 ESV / For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.
Pain you see is a precursor to glory. Pain is not made to stick around.

Peter 4:12-13 ESV /Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.
Pain is a test of our faith.


Proverbs 20:30 ESV / Blows that wound cleanse away evil; strokes make clean the innermost parts.
Pain is a cleanser.


James 5:14-16 ESV / Is anyone among you sick? Let him call for the elders of the church, and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer of faith will save the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up.
Pain sticks around to see how we treat one another

So now I know. Pain is part of each of us. At any given time we are either personally experiencing pain or we are helping others deal with their pain. Sometimes we are doing both.

The truth is this, pain needs a place to rest. It is within each of us to do our part in making sure it rests without payment.

I recall a phrase my husband uses to describe me. After 25 years of marriage I know the phrase well. He often tells me I am truly special. He says things come to you that the ordinary person has not experienced. You strike gold a lot, he tells me. I understand what he means when he says it. I don't think he is belittling any of the intense effort that goes into my work, he is sharing a feeling he believes. He is sharing what he has personally witnessed. I have found favor.

Thing is I don't think I am any different than the average person. In fact, I know I am not. I don't believe any more fairy dust has been sprinkled in my direction than any other. But there is one difference I am willing to own. That difference is this....I never say never. These words simply don't exist in my vocabulary. I detest the word NEVER.

So since I was a pup, I have gone about my life climbing against the grain of life. Thing is when you are willing to do this, you sign up for getting your feelings hurt. There are too many days to count that you come out on the bottom, upside down in the pursuit of victory.

But if you keep your nose glued to the bullseye. If you maintain your eyes on the prize. If you swallow whole the pain of disappointment and then pull your chair back up to the table, you will feast. The universe will find you and it will reach out to you, pull you in. And you will feel what only those that have lost handedly feel. You will feel a sense of accomplishment. You will taste what it feels like to come out ahead. You will rejoice and dance and jump and cry out. But this feeling only comes to those who have spent time on the extreme other end of the spectrum, losing. That failure prepares you for that moment. And when it comes to you, it is stronger than the strongest boom in the loudest cannon.

It comes as if delivered by God himself. You will hear it because He has prepared you to hear it. It sounds like, IN YOU I AM WELL PLEASED. And then you know in an instant you did not get there of your own choosing.