What a week this one has been. I didn’t think this blog would ever get this personal but I need to purge and I have so much to get out. You know those types of weeks or even those days…those moments that change your whole life…Well I had one of those. I’m going to back up to explain it all cause I just need to get it out of my system. I am about put on my writer’s hat for just a few minutes.

So: Lately Naima (my daughter) had been urinating frequently and being excessively thirsty. I mean, she would pee about 3 times in one hour. And she would ask for something to drink, then drink the entire cup, and then minutes later she would be insisting that she was thirsty. I knew something wasn’t right but couldn’t put my finger on it. The urination pattern started a week prior to the thirst pattern. It started slowly, but suddenly at the same time. She would have to go to the bathroom frequently. One day she had to go and we were in the car so I told her she had to hold it until we reached our destination. When we got there, we rushed her to the bathroom, only for her to get right in front of the toilet and pee on herself. I mean right in front of the toilet. Obviously I was upset (as the pattern hadn’t quite set in and I didn’t know yet that there was a reason for this). I made her sit in time out for like 10 minutes or so and looking back now I feel so bad because I realize that she couldn’t help herself. Fast forward a day or two and we are at the arboretum for a jazz fest and she had to go to the bathroom about three times. Once was right when we left and then we drove maybe 20 minutes to a restaurant to get something to eat and she had to pee again right when we got there. It was after 8 so I didn’t let her have anything to drink (only a sip to wash down her food) because since she was going to the bathroom so many times in the night (once 3 times in 1 hour) and a couple times peeing on herself in her sleep, she couldn’t have anything after 8 thinking that would prevent the pattern. It didn’t. All these things were odd, and I made note of it, but I thought that she was just drinking too much during the day and that is why she was urination so much. She had been potty trained since she was 2, so the peeing in the bed thing was highly unusual. She would even pee on the sofa if she fell asleep there. It started to become obvious that she simply couldn’t control her urine in her sleep and not that she was just having accidents. It wasn’t until the thirst pattern began when I knew something was really wrong. I begin to suspect that maybe it could be a UTI. This was towards Friday and I had to work the weekend and so I decided to hold off and see if the pattern continued a few days and if so I would make her a doctor’s appointment. The pattern continued and the thirst pattern over the weekend grew intense. Monday morning I had two photo shoots scheduled so I was like I’ll make the appointment for Tuesday. The early one got cancelled so I decided to go on and take her in and that I could drop her off home (my mom happened to be off that day and her daycare was closed this week) and then go to the second shoot. It turned out that when we got to the doctors and I explained what was going on, the nurse asked if anyone in my family had diabetes. I said yeah, several (type 2). I couldn’t fathom that Naima would be at risk based on that, as theirs was all more lifestyle related–and Naima’s lifestyle was at least slightly better than the average kid her age. She wasn’t the healthiest child by any stretch. We both skimp on veggies sometimes, but we ate lots of fruit and I did my best to limit her junk food consumption-particularly at home (though that was often a battle with my mom always buying things I asked her not to and Naima wanting and often getting those things. Things like pop-tarts and fruit snacks. I had just stopped fighting it long ago. Also her daycare snacks were horrendous on most days-but that too was a battle I didn’t have the energy to fight-so I just let it be, and when I could I tried to get there early enough to get her before snack time).

Anyway, after checking her urine and a blood glucose reading, they sent us straight to the ER. I cancelled my shoot and scooped up my mom and we took her straight to the hospital. We were there for a while and they concluded that she had type 1 diabetes. I went numb. I couldn’t believe it. At the doctors her blood glucose was 500 by the time we got to the ER and checked it was at 600. They admitted her and we were there from Monday until Thursday night.

I must say first that Naima was a soldier. She handled everything with so much class…it was really amazing. She lightened up everyone’s day in the hospital. They couldn’t stop raving about her. She was so still for the needles and didn’t cry not once. Well not about the needles anyway. When she did cry, it was because she couldn’t have something she wanted to eat. That was the hardest part for me…and still is. Restricting food to a 3 yo who doesn’t understand why she can’t have XYZ is not an easy task.

she didn't really need the band-aid, but she wanted it. It made her feel better!

The hospital stay was stressful to say the least. They were not able to get in her a normal range. She kept jumping from high to low blood glucose levels. It was either the first or second night where she was very lethargic. I just assumed she was sleepy and was tired from such a long day. The doctor noticed that her lips were pale and it turned out that her glucose was low they had to give her juice, then next morning she was back high again. I just couldn’t make sense of it all.

Over the three days, there was lots of education thrown at us. There was a diabetes specialist named Steph who came and taught us about diabetes, the do’s and don’ts, and how to use the glucagon pen if need be, and the signs of high and low BG (blood glucose) etc. etc. The nurses and staff were all nice, of course except for one lady. And we got her for two different nights. Go figure. She was there the first night and the last night. Her bedside manner was totally missing. The only other person whom I wasn’t feeling was the dietician. That’s because she sat there and lied to me in my face to try and tell me artificial sweeteners are safe for consumption like I was some dumb Joe off the street who didn’t know better. After that-everything she said to me went in one ear and out the other. I mean, I do realize that conventional medicine doesn’t accept these evident truths-but when I tell you why she can’t have anything with “sugar free” or “light” or another buzz words that may indicate artificial sweeteners—don’t try to tell me it’s in my head and that there is no evidence to support that, and that you use Splenda yourself, and that studies show it is safe and so on and so forth. I wasn’t feeling that-but I just clamped my lips once more. I did ask her to show me those studies. She said she would but the next day there was a different dietician who came in her place. I don’t know if that was intentional or not. Either way, I never got them.

There were some people however who were absolutely amazing to talk to and made the stay much more enjoyable (if I can use that word). That was Mrs. Annie, Mrs. Laura (Child Life Specialist), and our case manager Trish. All three of these ladies stood out to me and we each had deep conversations and their words were encouraging to me. Now I don’t know if all of these ladies are married or not, but I’m gonna just call them all “Mrs.” just because, but Mrs. Laura had an understanding of holistic health and the connection between body, mind, and spirit and we talked extensively about it. We also talked about snack ideas and she showed me a children’s book about diabetes and we discussed my concerns about why daycare will be a big hurdle in this new race and she was just a great resource and help. She copied some pages from that book for me that was written to be for the teacher of children with diabetes in school. That helped tremendously in just making me feel prepared to face the world once we stepped outside those four walls. Same with Trish. We sat and talked for probably more than an hour. And she listened so intently and all of my concerns and fears and her words were encouraging. Mrs. Annie just loved Naima. She came in to check on her and she is a type 2 diabetic. We just chatted here and there, but her spirit was nurturing. She was an older lady she talked of her grandkids and she was just so taken with Naima. We clicked almost instantly. I gave all the doctors and nurses whom I liked and interacted with a photo of Naima with a handwritten thank you on the back. They all adored it so. There were a few people who I wanted to get one to but I couldn’t find them and couldn’t remember all their names well, so that didn’t happen.

In the hospital they kept asking if anyone in my family had diabetes and I was like for type 1 not that I know of, but yes for type two. After some digging, it came to light that on her father’s side there were some people who did, so it’s likely that is where the gene may have come from. I now worry about his other children and I hope that their other half of genes carry a protective one, however the truth is that they are susceptible to developing it as well. Hopefully God will have other plans for them.

I know they say God works in mysterious ways and that is true to say the least. Something happened during this bout of her hospital stay that I think will positively impact her future that was an unintended consequence of her diagnosis. So most who know me already know that her father hasn’t really been there for her like a father should. I will spare some of the details but he wasn’t totally accepting of my giving birth and he had wanted me to terminate the pregnancy, which of course I did not. We didn’t speak at all after he asked me to do that-because I was just so mad I said fine, if he doesn’t want to play his part he doesn’t have to. However 3 months after she was born, I did let him know and we got a paternity test to prove that it was his and after that he began to ask to see her. He had never told his family about my pregnancy so of course they all treated me like I was some random chick who just showed up on his doorstep saying hey this is your baby and he never knew. I never corrected them because I felt like it was his family and it was up to him to let them know different. He chose not to and so I just let it be. Anyway around the 6 month mark of her life, he must have been going through something but called me and audaciously asked me why I had her blah blah blah. I realized then that even though he had put forth minimal effort-he still didn’t accept her so ii hung up on him and never called him back. He never called me back either. So we never spoke again for the next year and a half. I kept thinking he would eventually get over himself and return to his child’s life, but that didn’t happen. I had been doing ok financially, my mom was helping me out a bit, but my finances were dwindling, so I finally went downtown to file for child support in Feb of 09. It took everything in me to do it. People and been trying to convince me to do it from the beginning, but I honestly didn’t want his money. It was a pride thing for me I think. I had even told him while I was pregnant that I would much rather him be a father than a paycheck. But when he refused to do that, I reluctantly decided to settle for the paycheck. And in my mind it was very much a settlement. It didn’t replace him in her life at all. But I needed it and was prepared to take it if that was all I could get.

Well that act opened up a door because ever since then he decided he wanted to be a part of her life. At least somewhat.  He appeased his conscious by calling every now and then. He had since gone out of state to go to school. When he would come home on break he may come and visit her once or twice, and in time, I was (slightly) comfortable letting her go to his house (that came much later). I wasn’t satisfied though. I felt like when he was home, at the minimum he should be coming to see her once a week. He would be home all summer and saw her maybe a handful of times. And the child support that was ordered—let’s just says sometimes I get it, sometimes I don’t. I haven’t even complained much about that. I could easily make a fuss over it but I pick my battles. This summer while he was home, I think he has seen her about 6 times. Not sufficient if you ask me, but I let it be. However I bring us up to now and why there were some unintended good things that came from this entire diabetes thing.

Monday when we were admitted to the hospital, I wasn’t sure if I should even call him. I really didn’t think he would show up. I figured he would be like he always had been and have reasons why he couldn’t like transportation, work, whatever. Nonetheless, I did call him and let him know what was going on. He said he would come by when he got off work. That didn’t surprise me. I figured ok, he’ll come by once. But not only did he come day one, he stayed all night! That was the shocker for me. I’ll admit I didn’t really want him to stay the night, but that was only because I needed to cry. But my pride again wouldn’t let me do so in his presence, so I held it all inside and bottled it up. I slept on the bed with Naima, and he slept on the chair next to the bed.

Naima was quite mean to him the entire time. She would tell him that she wanted him to leave and that he should go home. Understandably, she doesn’t know him THAT well and while she knows that he is her father-she may not understand all of what that means. At one point she told him that she didn’t want him there. He asked why and she said “because I don’t love you!” I imagine that cut like a knife. I told her that wasn’t nice and tried to get her to apologize but she wouldn’t. I didn’t continue to force an apology because while it was rude, and I knew it wasn’t completely true, I also knew that to some extent it may have been. I mean he wasn’t around for most of her life, and though he calls and talks to her occasionally, she doesn’t see him much and doesn’t really know him all that much. I think (and these are just my thoughts) that in that moment-something got through to him. FINALLY. He realized what he was missing out on—which was a relationship with his child. He came back to the hospital each night and stayed for a decent stretch of time. Even though she was mean on and off, she did warm up to him a bit.

I think there was one more “aha” moment for him (again-this is my thoughts only). Thursday my boyfriend came by and when her father got there, he was there with her in the playroom. When they came back into the room, he saw her father and decided he would back off and let him have his space with Naima, but when he was leaving, Naima called out for him to come back into the room. Then later, a family friend from my childhood church came to pray with and for Naima. Naima wanted to go back to the playroom and I told her to ask her father to take her. She said no I want David (my bf). He too tried to get her to go with her father but she didn’t want to. So I suggested that she go with both of them, and to that she agreed. They both took her to the playroom. Let me explain further. David has been there since she was about 8 months old. She knows him. They have a great relationship, and I don’t hesitate to say that she loves him. She even tells him that on her own. It is my belief that her father (Chris) saw her relationship with David and realizes that he doesn’t have that. And with all that’s going on, I think he finally is beginning to realize that he should.

I recall thinking how hour-for-hour, I believe he has spent more time with her in these past 4 days since her diagnosis than he has all summer. That’s sad to me on one hand, but on the other hand I’m thinking “if that’s what it takes for him to come around, so be it”. I still would rather her have a relationship with him. Sad that it took all this for him to realize it, but “they say” everything happens for a reason. Maybe this is what was necessary for him to get his act together.

I was not ready to go home Thursday night, but they discharged us. I couldn’t understand why they would release when they still hadn’t figured out a proper carb: insulin ratio for her. I actually got upset with them and kind of lost my cool because for two meals during her stay they had to take all of her carbs away from her meal because she was high. So here is how they did this: they would say its meal time and have me order and meal and within about 45 minutes it would be brought upstairs from the cafeteria. They would then place the food in front of her. Then they would prick her finger to test her glucose and say “oh wait, its high let me go speak with the doctor”. Then they would come back and say “so we have to take all her carbs away but she can order some of XYZ.” The first time I wasn’t happy about it but I let it slide. The second time I was pissed. I mean, usually the carbs they were taking from my baby was her fruit, and once it was the bun from her cheeseburger. My thoughts: why not check her glucose BEFORE she orders her meal and you tell her that she can have something that she is looking forward to having instead of placing it in her face and taking it away. I don’t think anyone would be happy about that…but at least an adult could understand it. A 3yo—not quite. I mean it was hard enough trying to balance a meal with only 45 grams of carbs per meal (which are regulations she is still on at home) and NO carb snacks throughout the day. What that meant is that she had to try and “fill up” on protein (read: meat) so that she wouldn’t be hungry for a snack later. That too is not the best example of healthy eating in the world…but our options were limited. But I did fight for her as much as I could to make sure she got her extra food to make up for what she lacked in not being able to eat carbs. It wasn’t easy though. I was also a prick about making sure that each snack she got wasn’t full of artificial sweeteners. They put it in her file so that all the staff knew she was not to have any. Thursday when they said we’d be going home all the preparedness I thought I had went out the window. So did some of my tact. Her BG was at 403-far from normal or controlled, so I wasn’t happy with them releasing her like that. I snapped at one of the nurses because at dinner time they decided to take her carbs away again. She asked me what I she can have instead I was so irate I just snapped back “I don’t care what you bring, just bring my baby something” and walked away. She avoided me and the room the rest of the night. I felt bad afterwards, but truly they need to make the policy change. I was mad because Naima was crying when they told her she couldn’t have her carbs again and took away her fruit. Why would they put an innocent child through that? Particularly when a solution was so visible:  check BG before ordering the food and telling her she can have something. Still I feel bad for snapping at her-she was just following the doctor’s orders. Her name was Brianne. SORRY BRIANNE!

I don’t want this blog to be a book, so I will end this one here and talk about life at home in another post. I will add though, that Thursday night, two members of the ministerial staff came by the house to pray for Naima. Even though we are dealing with the diagnosis, we are also praying and believing in God that she can and will be healed—in his time. By faith, it is already done.

My Pen

I left you behind with no intentions of ever doing so
But life came at me fast
And I had to respond
Had to move on
The direction wasn’t really where I wanted to go
And I still look back and mourn for you
Mourn for me
And the pieces of myself I no longer know
The parts of me I loved but yet had to let go
But did I really have to? I don’t know
Just know that life came at me fast
And I had to respond
Had to carry on
And I left you out to dry
Now I water you with the tears that I cry
And I pray
Life come back to you

#clearlyifailed

I have not blogged in some time, but this story totally inspired me to do so. I didn’t even watch American Idol last night, but someone posted it on Facebook and I happen to click the link this morning and I saw this story and it brought me to tears. I was touched beyond words. Real Love is beautiful. The story is sad, but I’m so happy that Chris stuck by her through the incident that would have made so many people walk away. It shows his true character. I’m just happy to know that there are still people out there in the world who are so self-less.

Peace and Prayers go to Chris and Juliana. I pray for her recovery and that they will have a beautiful marriage and life together.

This is just the story of one.
But it’s being put on repeat everyday
With many alterations on the details and the ending
But at the core same stories, different cast
Something has to give and fast
Our babies are suffering while we stand by in silence
Hardly caring. Never questioning…
Blocking out their silent cries
Removing ourselves from the story
As if we are not all connected when we are
Our communities crumbling from neglect
No commune takin place here
Replacing “we’s” with “I’s” and “you’s”
Believing in the illusion that we are seperate
Yet our very atoms are constantly being exchanged
And we share the same breath
Live under the same sky
There is but one earth
One sun, One moon
One song, different tunes
Your pains manifest in me
I open my eyes and hope you can see
Our stories, though different, are the same
The only thing separating us is a name
We must counteract all this evil we’ve became
Cause I’m tired of writing poems like this: it’s a shame!

*************************************************

So I am sitting in the Toyota Service Center getting my recall work done and an oil change. I’m bored so I’m on my phone and run across an article someone linked on FB and as I read it, as common a story as it is I am brought to tears. I mean I had to get up and go to the bathroom and bawl my eyes out-type tears.
I think why I connected so is because I’m in the process of potty training and I well understand the frustration that can come along with it. But the aggression that this guy expressed is so beyond me.
The story: a little 4 year old boy is beat to death for wetting his pants. What??
To call that response extreme is for sure an understatement. I try to fathom what must be so bad in this guys life to cause him to snap like that? To beat not his, but his girlfriends kid to death like that for something so innocent…an accident.
What kind of rage? Where does it come from? Where does it go?
How do we get rid of it? How do we keep each other from reaching that point??
I’m pondering all these questions and I write this poem as I think about these things. I don’t quite know the answers other than we need to pray for one another. Not just our own families and local communities, we need to pray for each other all over the world.
The devil is loose. Cause that was nothing but the devil.
And not to give this man an excuse or an out: but what if someone could have reached out to him in his own life and all that he may or may not have been dealing with: to reduce his stress and maybe that in effect making him less aggressive. It’s a long shot I know: but everything effects everything else (butterfly effect). Maybe more positivity in his past could have led him down a better path. My point: be a light to everyone whom you encounter. You never know they may very well be in need of that. A simple smile. A “hello.” A “God Bless” You.” An I see you and realize you exist. These little things matter. And they make a difference no matter how big or small. As I always say: there is enough negativity in the world. Be a positive light. Help re-establish that balance.

-Sorry for getting up on my soap box, but this one tugged at my heart strings.

http://www.cnn.com/2010/CRIME/04/15/michigan.child.torture/index.html?hpt=T2

Banging on my ear drums

It’s the cries of my people

Our people

Suffering

A fate we know too well

How can we turn our heads

Close our eyes and pretend we don’t see

Don’t know

Don’t care

Or do we?

Has America really made us so numb

That we can no longer feel

No longer hope to heal our condition

Complacent

For their story is no different from ours

We are but extensions of one another

Connected by the very blood flowing through our veins

It’s about time for that change we sang was coming

Did we forget we have to facilitate it

It won’t be delivered on no silver platter

Fed Ex is not going to leave it at our doorstep

We’ve got to step out

Reach out and claim it

For next time it may be us

One day it will be us

Will we be prepared

Or still sleeping when it comes?

Wake up my brethren!

We’ve been sleeping for far to long

The time for rest is not yet

This season calls for action

Preparation

Teaching

Giving

Healing

Loving

All the things we’ve forgotten to do

Silence is not golden

When there is work to be done

I know you’re tired

Of the spilt blood decorating the concrete

A story put on repeat

This is not normalcy

Why doesn’t dysfunction alarm you?

Death is not something to get used to

Death is not a respite from life

When peace can just as easily exists here

You’ve just got to make room

Life can be pleasant too

But we’ve got to learn how to treat her

With dignity and respect

Not hostility and neglect

Please come correct

Take this time to reflect on your own life

What mark have you left on this world

Or will you die with life never knowing you were here?

What difference have you made?

What thought have you sparked?

Whose life have you changed?

Whose spirit have you touched?

Whose heart have you healed?

Who is going to remember you,

And what will they remember you for?

It is never too late to make a change

We are not living for ourselves

But for each other

Once we recognize the interconnectedness of life

We’ll see our every breath as purposed

We are all here for a reason

What is yours?

Your eyes…
They tell your souls story
Your past
Fear
is getting in the way
Your unconvinced by the words
That I’ve tried to say
But still I’m yours
And there’s nothing
And no one who can pull me away
I see through your mask
Into things you’ve yet to discover
Just lock your eyes in mine
And you will see clearly
What I see
A beauty
That extends beyond
The span of my arm

I’ve painted pictures in my mind
Of our existence
That penetrates space
Far into time
I’ll show you
If that would help ease your mind
Dislodge your doubts
I’m in this for you
I want this for us
Let’s just…

Be happy
Together
Forever
No pressure
No need to try to be
Anything but who you are
No need to be anyone
But who I am
When I’m with you
I’m not afraid to let my hair down
So don’t you be either
Cause I don’t care neither
Your flaws are beautiful to me
I see potential
To grow
To change
Even to remain the same
If that be of your choosing

I’ve already chosen you
So just keep doing what you do
Loving me
Silently
You don’t even have to say it
Cause your actions they display it
And your eyes…

Your eyes tell me the truth
]]> http://urbnvision.wordpress.com/2010/02/03/your-eyes/feed/ 0 urbnvision http://urbnvision.wordpress.com/2010/01/15/random-thought/ http://urbnvision.wordpress.com/2010/01/15/random-thought/#comments Fri, 15 Jan 2010 23:09:01 +0000 urbnvision http://urbnvision.wordpress.com/?p=119 ]]> Do you see it as problematic to question young kids about what they want  to be when the grow up or do when they get older?

It just randomly  occurred to me that the question alone can fo more harm than good.

Here is why I say this: Most times you ask kids what they want to be you get cliché answers  like a doctor or a lawyer or something of that nature. Those are the  things that they are taught subconsciously to say because they think  that’s what we want to hear. Or because they heard those professions  are financially more prosperous.

My concern is that at a young age they’ve already began a process of  capitalistic pursuits that will never allow them an opportunity to  truly explore ideas about things that are more true to them. Maybe  they are great at art and would make a great artist. Maybe they have  musical talents that would serve them well and make them happy.

If you wait until they are preparing to enter college to tell them:  “do what you love and the money will come later”, by then you have already  missed the main window of opportunity. By that time, they can much  more easily dismiss that as fluff talk and go hunting for the dollars.  It’s too late. Also by that time they may have forgotten what it is  they truly love and what makes them happy. They may have never cultivated those  talents often deemed unworthy or unimportant in our modern-day  education system and they become just another machine in the workforce  (with or without a degree) working a job that their heart is not  present in.

Does anybody else view this as problematic?

…

…

I apologize for being your mother

Cause baby girl I wasn’t ready

When I laid down I didn’t consider the ramifications

Though I was raised so much better than that

Don’t ask what I was thinking

Or better yet what I was drinking

It doesn’t matter now anyhow

But I remember how the news of you hit me

Like a train run of its track

Had me wishing I could go back

But you were here now

And only I was willing to live with that

And baby girl, I apologize for your story

And how it lacks of any glory

My apologies to you my dear

For having no more to look up to than me

I fear that you’ll never find peace

Because I can’t give to you that which I still seek

I wish that I could answer your questions

All while looking into your ebony eyes

I want to give you reasons to go on

But even I am plagued by the desire to give up

What kind of mom will I be?

Unable to soothe even my own fears

And doubts

And confusions

Yet trying to appear confident and strong

With hopes you won’t see through me

Like a glass house

I throw stones upon myself

Hoping to shatter these insecurities

So it won’t be my heirloom

I wish to shield you

With words of wisdom that don’t even work for me

They say practice what you preach

But I hope my words can drown out my actions instead

You deserve so much more than what I have to give

You deserve a chance to live and let live

All I have to pass down to you

Are prayers and poems

Wishes and dreams

That you live happy and free

That you be nothing like me

But so much better

When you were yet forming in my womb

My mother said “I hope she’s just like you”

I’m not sure all of what she meant by that

And I know she didn’t mean much harm

But yet I cringed at the thought

It brought me much alarm

To think of such a troubled soul existing unarmed

So my Love,

Let Love be your weapon

Sometimes people say things without thinking

Without knowing

The power their words can carry

Each breath can bring with it a gift or a curse

And I pray her words won’t come true

So baby girl let this be my gift to you:

I pray that you be nothing like me

Wandering this cold world aimlessly

Trembling at what tomorrow may bring

Living in winter, but yet praying for spring

I pray that you keep on smiling so sincere

And be so happy. So pure

Let these qualities adhere

I pray you never lose your sense of self

And when you struggle

That you see no shame in asking for help

I pray that you believe and know you are a blessing

Yes, even despite how your were conceived

Only God can bring forth life

Be ye not deceived…

It don’t matter how you got here

Just stay

It don’t matter what you go through

Just pray

Know that all of the answers are already within

And your destiny in life is much more than where you’ve been

Baby girl, in this life you are gonna experience hurt

There will be much pain you must endure

There are tears that you’re gonna have to cry

So don’t be afraid to let them fall from your eye

Please don’t you ever let this life make you bitter

I don’t wanna hear that you were ever a quitter

You have the power to choose

Rather to win or to lose

And I hope that you always choose life

And never speak strife

I pray you see the glass as always half full

Don’t allow your eyes to be covered by the wool

Some people will try to steal your joy

But don’t let them

Know that God will be your source for more

If you let him

Don’t be insecure, baby girl not like me

There are so many things in this world you can be

Know that love conquers all

And don’t be afraid to give

Don’t hold onto grudges

Forget and forgive

Abhor what is evil

Cling to that which is good

Speak what’s in your heart

despite fear of being misunderstood

Don’t wait for acceptance from this world, cause it’ll never come

For instead of yourself you will be forced to succumb

They say the apple always falls nearest to the tree

And so I push you away from me

But yet I hold you close

Because I love you

And I need you

Even more than you need me

You remind me what love is

And how life is supposed to be

You remind me that hope lives

And that it can even work for me

© Shannon Winston 2009

Wrote a poem about it. Wanna hear it? Here is go:

Yet and still I wonder

How can something so right feel so wrong?
Shouldn’t my mind and spirit agree?
What is this thing that is holding me?
Why do I still find it’s hard to believe
Why is my heart so hardened that I can’t receive?
Why is it hard for me to see
That this is the life he calls of me

Yet and still I wonder

How can things that’s so wrong seem so right?
Why wasn’t I made strong enough to fight?
I know I haven’t come this far just to leave
But this call it is more than my mind can concieve
I can’t believe
That it is so hard for me to see
That this is the life he calls of me

Yet and still I wonder

Could it be that my purpose is just that strong
That the devil wants to convince me not to hold on

I wonder

Could it be my call is just that great
That the devil is trying to rearrange my fate

I wonder

Is it even the devil or could it be me
Am I blind cause deep down I don’t really wanna see
Could it be that I’m fighting my own destiny
Cause I don’t know what it is that he has for me

I wonder

Yet and still