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how happiness & sadness stops everything



There are moments I believe, where everything stops. The birds chip no more, the gentle streaming river ceases to stream, and the busy overcrowded streets that usually echo noises far into the horizon, become as still as a day out in the graveyard. And if one was to mistakenly drop a few pins on such moments of stillness, one would easily find their whereabouts.

Silence overpowers all.

Mama said, “happiness and sadness have a way of stopping everything.” I wondered then what she meant. As if seeing the puzzled look on my face, she pulled me closer, sat me right next to her on her favorite blue cottage chair holding me so tight that I could literally feel her heartbeat against mine, as she whispered these words to me, “They have a way of breaking the silence in a room, and ushering in a wave of loud laughters and wide smiles and at times my child, at times this wave in all it’s  fury comes rushing in a flood of tears like you have never seen before.” And as mama’s whispers came to an end, her tight grip loosened as she wiped off tears streaming down her face, and reached for her sweet tea which she always drunk as she watched the sunset from the living room porch.

Papa was just returning back home from a week of being gone. I had prayed all week for favor for Papa who was heading into town to see the Sheriff for some help for our neighbor Elijah and his family who were colored folks that kept losing a piece of their land every month, to some greedy land grabbers who had no business stealing from colored folks. As he stepped down from his carriage, you could see sweat dripping all over his rugged once blue shirt. Seems to me Papa’s trip was more like a hunting trip as he came back all rugged, and filthy as can be. He waved for help, and mama sent me down. Papa always returned back from town with some sweets and cotton candy for mama who was the worlds biggest sweet tooth. This time however, as I reached into his carriage, I was surprised to find a group of colored folks, trembling and one child with her forehead bleeding on her mama’s lap. I had never met these colored folks before, and wondered what on earth had happened for Papa to bring these folks our way.

Mama rushed in the kitchen and brought with her a sponge, some warm water and antiseptic to wipe out the blood on this poor child’s forehead. Mama was a mid-wife and knew a thing or two about medicine, which helped the poor girl feel alot better after mama gave her some pain medication to slow down the swelling on her forehead. Papa on the other hand headed down to the stables to feed the horses, and wipe down his carriage which was now drenched in blood and sweat. He looked distraught and said very little concerning the colored folks he had brought home.

Papa, what happened and who are they?,” I finally said. I knew he didn’t want to talk about it then, but my curiosity got the better of me and I finally spoke out. When Papa finished, he called for mama and told her everything he had told me. How these poor colored folks were running away from a man who had held them hostage for three years, working them like pigs in some overheated factory making shirts and pants which he sold to many rich folks others living outside of the country. They had tried to run away before, and were caught and beaten up losing one of their sons in the process. This time however, they had made better their plans and managed to get far far away from Mr. Bird who was this awful man that had kept them hostage all these years. Papa was on his way back home, when they stopped him for some food and help for their daughter who had fallen and injured her head as they escaped Mr. Bird’s compound.

I let go of my bedroom that night for our guests. They said very little, but smilled whenever we gave them food, a place to bath, fresh clothes to wear and a place to sleep. Papa had the fire going, while mama reached for her bible. I still could not get what mama had spoken about earlier in the day out of my head. That happiness and sadness have a way of stopping everything. And as I listened to papa tell the story all over again, I realized that at that very moment in time, our world was filled with sadness, and in many many ways our world had stopped as we digested the cruelty that had befallen this poor family.

Once again, mama’s wisdom surpassed any knowledge that I could ever come up with. She had taught me just how the world stops through happiness and sadness, and just how far we still are from truly loving one another like the Lord has loved us. That colored folks and white folks are all one even though we might not look like one, and that if we are ever to find the oneness in us, we are to look past our colors and look instead within.

Love: Christine


Posted in Life With Christ

The In Betweens Of Life



This life,” she said. “It’s come & go, & all the in between stuff.”

“It was never meant to be comfortable. Never meant to be still. Each day comes & goes to make room for another & another & another until it is no more our home, because it was never meant to be home.”

The in between stuff,” she said. “Now that’s where you find life.”

“Where you find hugs & kisses. People on missions. Life re-birthed & hope given.”

As I stared deep into her eyes, daring not to move even as the buzz of the bees drew nearer and nearer. She was much too intense, I thought. Any sign of disappearance would only prolong the pain of sitting out on the hot cement floor, in the scotching sun grinding the corn we harvested last week, which was to my surprise, grandma’s favorite pass time. Grinding corn on hot cement, with her one hundred year old looking stone, now as smooth as a new born baby after having been used for many harvests in seasons past.

“Yes child, hope. Hope because each day brings with it new blessings & new challenges.” “My papa,” grandma said. “God rest his soul in peace, often told me, “each day is a blessing that needs it’s own breathe of hope. Hope for the smiles, but most importantly for the valleys & hills that await us.”

Papa said that if we found in us the hope given to us each day, then we would find in us life to breathe new hope into an empty vessel, because all of us are empty vessels without hope.”

“He said, “hope is what we all need to make it through the in betweens of life.”

The sun was beginning to set, as the cows from down shore made their way back home from a long day of herding. Grandma was still grinding corn, as I wiped off the sweat out of my forehead. If it were not for uncle Billy, I would have spent a few more hours with grandma on that hot cement floor, listening to her life stories, & how fragile everything in us really is.

I wondered then, how much of life was left in each & every one of us. If what goes in the in between of life is what is most precious, how well have I lived my in between life I thought to myself. Could it be that each day, each hour, each minute & each second is much more valuable than silver or gold? So valuable that each day, each hour, each minute, each second is an intentional invitation to live life to it’s fullest? I asked myself.

Going to sleep that night, I thought about the intentionality of life. How purposeful each day is, & how empty it is if never lived fully. I wondered how much of life was still awaiting many of us to grab. How many have lived life, and never truly lived because perhaps life was one big giant they couldn’t ever defeat. And it was at that moment that I truly understood the hope grandma spoke about, because for the first time I realized that many haven’t lived because they are the “empty vessels” grandma spoke about, and how each & every one of us can breathe hope to an empty vessel, and pass that forward to another who needs hope.

That conversation with grandma was a new awakening. Perhaps, I needed to seat on that hot cement floor, in that scotching heat, grind corn with an ancient looking stone, all while listening to grandma pour out wise words freely from her mouth. That is life. So precious & so fragile. It comes & goes, & the in betweens of life, like grandma says, tell the story of who we are & what we have lived for.

And after spending a week on the farm with grandma, it was time to head back to the city. As I loaded my bags in Uncle Billy’s trunk, Grandma pulled me aside, smiled & gave me what seemed like a hundred hugs. She said to pass those around to all who needed a hug, because hugs bring hope, & hugs are free. I promised grandma that I would be a vessel of hope, as she was my very own vesself of hope. “Remember,” she said. “hope is what we all need to make it through the in betweens of life.

Love: Christine


Posted in Life With Christ

broken, shredded, moulded and still broken


Who am I? I asked myself.

The simple answer lies on the surface.

A mother

A daughter

A sister

A friend

A niece

A neighbor


Co-worker etc.

But, the thing is I wasn’t looking for simple or what lies on the surface of simple. I was looking for something more. More tangible. More meaningful. More telling. So that led me to the depths of simple, and into the nakedness of truth and in that came the unravelling of who I really am.

I am a child of God with a broken, shredded, moulded and still broken heart.

A heart that loves and aches at the sight of suffering and injustice all at the same time.

Before I found purpose I often wondered why God gave me a heart such as I have.

What possible difference could an empty vessel bring? I asked myself.

I had nothing, absolutely nothing to offer this troubled world, I often said of myself.

I said this many times in hopes that the aches and pains that still were the beats of my heart would stop. That just maybe if I said it over and over the Man upstairs, our precious Father would see that I truly had nothing, absolutely nothing to offer this broken world, and it was best that He gave these aches and pains to someone much more capable of doing something about them.

Someone who could bring hope, and not just any hope, hope in the most tangible of ways.

Still the aches and pains continued, and over the years they have taken on a life of their own. A life much louder and more visible. Somehow, not knowing when exactly, they seemed to have outgrown the pits of my heart, and found some way to creep up to the tip of my heart, in such a way that has forced some insane movement to take place within me, and usher in some very strange and yet attractive boldness that was ever missing.


at the bridge

Who knew that aches and pains could grow, and not just grow, usher us into boldness and a sense that perhaps this was not at all a mistake. That these aches and pains could somehow be connected to a greater purpose, much greater than what they present themselves to be, and through that perhaps these aches and pains are to be the very catalyst that brings hope, and makes the difference I once saw myself as incapable of bringing.

I think perhaps what kept me asking Our Father to take it all away, was the grandness of it all and how very tiny I seemed in the global scale of things. If the aches and pains were to reside in just one small region, I think perhaps the very little courage in me would have been enough to face it all. But, that wasn’t the case and in fact as the years have gone by, the grandness of these aches and pains have become such that I know without a doubt I am not capable of facing. Not on my own anyway. It’s a burden much much grandeur in nature. A beast if I may say so.

me and them



It is in the grandness of life & it’s circumstances that we find out just how incapable we are, and how capable He is. 

So knowing very well how burdened my heart was with these aches and pains, and how incapable I saw myself as, Father stepped in and broke it all down for me. I realized I didn’t have to do it all. That to walk in His steps, and to honor His will over my life was all I needed to do, and as I took the very tiny steps that He led me to take, the grandness of it all diminished in such a way that it no longer defeated my calling, but rather gave it an insane amount of fuel to keep it going.

And in 2010 the grandness of it all became doable once I took the first step of bringing hope to these aches and pains. This is not to say that the aches and pains have all gone away. Not all all. In-fact, I now realize that they will never go away. They were always meant to reside within me so as to propel me closer and closer to my purpose, and in that finishing this journey of life in such a way that brings honor to our heavenly Father.

What is your ache and pain? Perhaps that is where you will find your purpose.

Love: Christine

Posted in Life With Christ

and love shows up in many ways














“The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:40

“But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?” 1 John 3:17

“Let no one seek his own good, but the good of his neighbor.” 1 Corinthians 10:24

To donate: clothes, shoes & hygiene products or to volunteer contact me @ Facebook, Instagram & Twitter @dream4christ or

Love: Christine

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Posted in Life With Christ