Child's Play

They say time is money and I have a shortage on them both. This is why I rarely entertain the thought of dating. Now, I haven’t been scorched to the point that I think all men are dogs and none can be trusted or mean any good. But I’ve had many revelations that many of them are full of shit. I was trying to think of a better, political way of saying this, and could think of none. I’m tired of stating that I’m a grown woman and don’t have time for foolishness, but time after time these men keep coming at men incorrectly. I’ve come to realize that they are naïve to who I am. No I am not a superstar or top model or even an undercover queen. I am simply a woman who has matured beyond the boundaries of trivial child’s play. I don’t want to play games like charades, or truth or dare, or hide and seek. I don’t even want to play tag.  I wake up to punch a clock daily. There’s no room for recess or free play. I wish every man who may ever cross my path could read this blog for the sake of my time and patience. Stop approaching me when you have shit on your breath because that’s all your full of. I don’t have any tissue to wipe it, water to rinse it, shovel to scoop, or toilet to flush it. It’s not going to do anything but sit there and stink up my atmosphere. So please take that shit that a way. This situation irritates me, yes, but I am not angry. I know how to look at all these pointless situations with optimism. Hey I could be stuck on that same play ground, playing those same childish games. But thank God for the gift of sight…  I see you nigga and because you seem to not have realized, the bell has rang.

Turning Point

Life is hard. A righteous life is even harder. I am battling everyday with this murderous thing called flesh. The Bible says we have to die daily, but I’ve tried to compromise this fact in hopes that I can let it stay alive occasionally, as if I can override God’s word. How silly we can be. He blatantly told us that He would rather us be either hot or cold because He spits out the lukewarm. That alone is deep to me. But why Lord? Why can’t I still get into heaven with living half way right? Why can’t I do what pleases me sometimes? Dang. This holy thing is hard! Truth be told, it is. Scriptures that tell us to pick up our cross and bare it immediately comes to mind. Off first glance, that doesn’t seem too bad. Yeah it’ll be heavy and everything, but we can do it. So easily we forget that we are walking with Christ and as we walk we will be beaten, spit on, persecuted, lied on and betrayed. He who loves me shall keep my commands. And I must pause there and praise God I haven’t been sent to hell. I can’t speak for everyone, but I, myself, know what he requires of his children. No I may not know them all but I know enough to know that according to His word, I do not love Him. To love Him is to hate the world, and yet I can admit that I still find myself being entertained in the devil’s kingdom. The truth hurts and my heart is cramped with pain. And for this pain I am grateful. Conviction is good; for we know what we are doing is wrong and feel it necessary to stop. Ignored conviction is deadly. People try to justify sin every day. Well God knows my heart. And that should be enough for us to repent and ask for a new one, for God told us that the heart is evil and desperately wicked. Well, God is forgiving and as long as I repent I’ll be alright. Are you serious? Yes God is a forgiving God, but people misunderstand repentance. To repent is not to saying I’m sorry and keep on sinning. Rather to ask for forgiveness and to turn from our evil ways. If I were to punch you in the face and then say sorry, then proceed to hit you again am I sorry? Obviously I am not. I say it in hopes that you don’t retaliate against me. This is what I do to God every Time I stumble in my house after a night out or wash his residue from my body or brush the smell of tobacco from my mouth. I don’t want to keep hurting God and lying with the word “sorry”. I know that if this continues I will feel His wrath and will pay with my life.  So my flesh must be killed by the spirit and my spirit must live in Christ. I must walk on this narrow path, carrying this heavy cross, living by the bloody gospel. To the heathen this would sound like a curse, but the righteous rejoices. How blessed am I?