July 22, 2006
Harlem Book Fair 2006
West 135th Street
Between 5th and 7th Avenues
11:00 AM to 6:00 PM
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August
19, 2006
2006
Queens Book Fair
Rufus King
Park
153rd & Jamaica Avenue
Queens, New York
11:00 AM - 7:00 PM
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| Excerpt - "The Call - Part
III" |
June 21, 2001
I sat amid the clanging of the
train and the chatter of the other passengers, sinking into a
self-contained cocoon of detachment. It wasn't hard. In New York
no one wants to make eye contact anyway.
Train ride over, I rushed quickly
to exit first and ran down the steps to the street. Walking
quickly to put as much distance between myself and the crowd, I
listened to my footfalls… left, right, left, right, left, right,
left, right… As I listened, the rhythm took over and I chanted
in time to my footfalls, “Come on, come on, you can do this,
come on, come on, you can do this.”
Eyes focused on my feet, I walked
the eight blocks to my home. It was a ten-minute walk but it
felt like forever. I wanted to get there quickly, but at the
same time I dreaded my arrival. The closer I got to my
destination and the sanctuary of my room, the closer I would
arrive at the moment I'd feared all my adult life.
Opening the front door of my
home, I quickly surveyed the hallway. Thankfully no one was
in sight. I eased quietly up the stairs listening for
footsteps and slid my apartment door open with my ear pricked for
the slightest indication that my mom was awake. I tiptoed
through the living room, entered my room, closed the door, dropped
my bags, sat down on the edge of my bed, and, as my father had
done before me, quietly and completely lost control of my mind.
I sat there staring at the wall,
with my arms wrapped around myself as I rocked to and fro.
My mouth was open in a silent scream, tears were running down my
face. If you'd asked me why I was crying, I would have
honestly said, “I don’t know.” I just want it to stop.
It could have been the constant anger I lived with. It could
have been my continual state of loneliness, for despite having
several acquaintances, I had no friends outside my family.
Friendship meant that at some point in time, secrets would be
shared--and I had too many to tell. It could have been my
feeling of abandonment. It seemed as though everyone
eventually left me.
I, who had vowed never again to
be in a situation I could not control, was totally out of control.
My thoughts and memories jockeyed for position, speeding up,
getting louder and faster. I felt like everything inside me was
disintegrating when, in the midst of it all, I heard the voice of
God say, “The Call is real.”
Even in my dementia, perhaps
because of it, I didn’t jump and run. I immediately
proceeded to let God know, in case He’d missed it, what was
going on with me. I even had the temerity to be a bit upset.
“The Call? Where were You,
Lord, when I was struggling to survive? At seventeen when I
woke up to find my father acting like a husband instead of a dad?
When I was twenty and had to beg at the turnstile for money to get
to work? Or how about when I had to make flour pap to drink
and I was seven months pregnant? Or at twenty-two when
someone who came highly recommended kept going when I said stop? And now, Dom left me because I was doing what You said to do?
That’s not how it’s supposed to work out!
“I called You, but You didn’t
come! My life’s been a living hell and I can’t take
anymore! I give up! It’s just ... too ... hard!”
As if those were the magic words
necessary, I suddenly felt a warmth and a peace seeping into my
being and wrapping itself around my mind and heart. The clamor of
my mind lifted, and as if on movie slides I viewed a kaleidoscope
of my life. God showed me the moments when He'd preserved me from
harm. The day He'd used a movie to save me from suicide.
The many times something had held me back from crossing the street
a split second before a car whizzed by, as my guardian angels did
their job. Even my selective memory, that thing the nice clinical
folk call “repressed memories”--it's a built in protective
device to guard my sanity, given to me by my Creator.
The brother-in-law I’d adopted
wholeheartedly and confided in, who through association showed me
that there are men who get angry without raising a hand to express
that anger: a gift from Him. The music that I took so much
joy in, music that calmed and soothed my spirit: Him again.
The many kind acts and unexpected windfalls that came my way; all
Him. When contrasted with my feeling of abandonment, I felt
ashamed, because I hadn’t needed to call God. He’d had been
there all along, wiping my brow through my migraines and
participating in my life, but I was too blind to see it.
At that point I cried like I’d
never cried before or since, deep, loud, ugly tears. No
control, no exhibition of quiet strength, just all over the place
weeping and wailing. I cried in relief, I cried in
repentance, I cried because I could feel God’s love and
acceptance filling up and mending the corners and cracks inside
me, catching even the tiniest splinters. God really hadn’t
abandoned me!
When I could cry no more, I
surrendered my will to God's call on my life to be a minister of
the gospel. Even so, I couldn’t resist asking.
“But God? You know my
story. I’m not worthy. I’m used goods. And I
don’t even like people. I’m always angry. How can
you choose someone who doesn’t like being around people to
minister to people?”
There was no answer.
At the end of the week I was
scheduled to attend a “Power of God” conference in New Jersey.
I’d attended previous conferences and heard testimonies of
astounding healings from church members, so I told myself that I
needed to hold on for two more days. God’s got
something for you at that conference. Your healing is on the
way.
***
To Be Continued...
-
I
think Saturday's ought to be labeled "stinky day"
-
My favorite fruit is a toss up between
mango and watermelon.
-
My feet have been size nine since I was eleven
Name:
Age:
State or Country:
Faith or personal mission
statement:
List
Membership:
What
prompted your joining? (No need to stroke my ego, just tell
me what made you give up the email address?)
What
would you like to hear about?
|
| Divine's Latest Adventure |
June 28, 2006, 3:43 PM
AIJAN E-Book and Affiliate Program in the Hizzouse!
 I'm
just so thrilled I could burst! I've just turned the second half
of my print book into an E-book (all by my little self). I first
got the idea from another author in one of my Yahoo Groups when
she announced her books on the bestsellers list.
I have submitted my book to the same publisher she uses and it
has been accepted, and will be available soon. Then I got
impatient and I got to thinking ... ummm ... why can't you do
that for yourself as well?
So I fiddled and fretted, and deleted and uploaded, and amended
and created and finally ... Look! In your inbox ... it's a bird,
no ... a plane ... nope ... it's ... Age is Just a Number:
Adventures in Online Dating--all 90 pages of it!
To view the table of contents, read excerpts, place your order,
or find out more information about the E-book affiliate program
please click
here.
Reviews and comments about errors or downright snafus are always
welcome.
Peace,
Dee
Update: June 28, 2006, 11:39 PM
I just checked the E-book
publisher's website and AIJAN is
live there as well! There are a few errors with the
listing, but it's up there! Yippie!
***
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