The TBC FRESH FIRE Blog

Choose Your Weapon

Sun, 26 Sep 2021 04:54:33 GMT

Choose Your Weapon

by Stephanie A. Scott

What a month! It had been laden with stress, critical decisions, work challenges, migraines, and an overbooked calendar. It seemed as if every day I was being tested. Each day seemed to bring a new challenge. I don’t know if some of my co-workers even realize how close they came to a good, old-fashioned, verbal…never mind. Here’s the thing. Each time that I felt my emotions heading off the charts, I also felt the presence of God’s spiritual guardrails around me to remind me who I was and whose I was. As Christians, we’ve all been there.

It is typically during these times that I become intentional about creating and including activities and quiet time to restore balance and joy. Oftentimes, this includes a combination of focused prayer, time with family and friends, travel, Disney, and gardening.

I had managed to make time for all of these things, except gardening. A series of very early work meetings over the last two weeks canceled my routine of tending to my garden in the mornings before work. Additionally, hurricane season and after-work commitments made me opt to postpone picking the last of the summer’s harvest and preparations for fall planting to the weekends, which proved to be equally busy in recent weeks.

One thing that I was most looking forward to was harvesting my mangos. Even during the rainy days, I would peek through the porch behind another overgrown tree to count down the days until I could get them. They were in their final stage. This particular tree produces the sweetest, largest mangos I have ever had in the United States. They might even rival some that I have enjoyed in the Caribbean.

When the tropics calmed and gave us a nice, dry afternoon, I had my mouth and shears set on bringing these beauties in to enjoy, share, and freeze, only to realize that someone had beat me to it! My tree was cleared. What a violation! This is the 2nd time this has happened. I would have gladly taken the culprit(s) to the grocery store to get whatever they needed if this was done out of need. To take every piece of fruit was just plain rude and mean.

In that instant, all the devotionals, scriptures, and prayers I had absorbed seemed to be exiting my mind as fast as the thief who violated my fenced-in, video camera covered yard had left with my mangos. Over the last few weeks, I had done all I felt I could in the face of the other spiritual testing to maintain my faith and composure. This felt like the tiny, yet ultimate straw. I thought, “This means war!” I envisioned myself grabbing my machete (just to scare them, of course) and waiting for them to return. I also considered adding barbed wire under the bamboo border behind those trees.

None of that made sense. I was choosing the wrong weapons to fight the real war.

“For though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds.” - 2 Corinthians 10:3-4

This was not about mangos. This was not about rude corporate behaviors. This was not about physical pain. This was not about earthly relationships. This was about warfare, recognizing it and responding correctly to it. It was about choosing the right weapons for the real fight.

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” – Ephesians 6:12

In that moment I chose to not let what I immediately felt turn me into someone I was not. I would not be robbed of enjoying the joy all around me by tactics aimed to skew my perception of my happiness, to only these events that were meant to rob me of my joy and focus. What can a machete do that the promise of God cannot?

“But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one.”
- 2 Thessalonians 3:3

To rely on a worldly weapon to fight a spiritual war that is already won is useless. I chuckled at the thought and called a few friends to laugh about it and share how God steered me away from ridiculous thoughts, to what He said in His word. It all seemed smaller. Even my brother reminded me, “It’s just fruit.”

My peace was salvaged. I was thankful that God had allowed me to know the better choice of weaponry to seek. God further showed me how choosing the right weapons helps us look beyond the immediate battle in which we might be consumed, to the bigger war that He is leading, where we have like-minded people fighting along with us.

I had shared a post about what had happened in my neighborhood app where people share activities across nearby subdivisions. The first response I got was from a lady in a nearby subdivision, who expressed empathy for what happened and asked if she could share a bag of her starfruit from her trees to hopefully make up for what someone had done. I thanked her for her kind gesture and told her to enjoy her harvest and that I was grateful for the offer. The second respondent began another series of comments which has led the three of us, as fellow growers, meeting next week in the neighborhood to share fruit and cuttings.

The evil one is constantly trying to disarm us and will repeatedly try to catch us off guard. He does not want us to enjoy the blessings and good that surrounds us, nor to maintain our connection to our Father and His Word. We are already victorious. We do not need to choose tempers, verbal lashes, machetes, nor heavy hearts and minds. We have much more powerful weapons at our disposal. Choose wisely.

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

My Self Care Journey – I Chose Me

Sun, 26 Sep 2021 04:54:33 GMT

My Self Care Journey – I Chose Me

by Minister Julie Husbands

I am still in Participation mode and Partnering with Holy Spirit. I no longer set myself on fire to keep others warm! Freedom Rocks!

This pic is not just a pic. It's one of the pics of me feeling secure in my skin for the first time in a long time, knowing who I am and whom I belong to - Father God. I am affirmed, confirmed, validated, and chosen by Him. This is one of the moments where my freedom journey began. This smile, the pose, the way I look on the outside was how I authentically felt on the inside.

You see, I went after the one and the one happened to be me. I needed to find out who Julie really was! I had showed up for everyone else and forgot about me. The truth is, I didn't forget, it was a choice. The time came (A decision came) when I needed to choose me. I needed to participate in my own rescue. So, I did. Freedom is a journey, it's not a sprint! I am now 1000 percent in participation mode, rocking it out with God and an awesome Community that is filled with brilliant people and a Brilliant Visionary! I didn't know I needed the Community until I needed it.

The short of the Long is this! I went after the one. The one was me. I chose and continue to choose me. The freedom journey continues y'all. Holy Spirit is at the helm, and I am helping others with care, love, and value as they choose to be free.

TO BE CONTINUED!!!

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

My Independence Day

Sun, 26 Sep 2021 04:54:33 GMT

My Independence Day

by Steven C. Rivers

My Independence Day did not come on July 4th or Juneteenth. My Independence Day came on August 27, 1977. It was on that day I asked Jesus Christ to come into my life; to be my Lord and Savior. I’m not sure what I expected to happen after I said the prayer. While I was sure I still could not walk on water, I was sure I could turn the water into cherry and grape Kool Aid. No loaves of bread or fish to serve, just two huge pots of Sloppy Joe Mix. No miracles, just 50 or so really happy children.

I had been invited to Memorial Baptist Church by a friend, Lenaire Kashey. Lenaire and I were High School classmates at Cedar Grove Academy, a Private Christian School. It was a chance for this small Baptist Church to reach out to the kids in the neighborhood. When GOD has a plan, you don’t always see it or understand it in the beginning. GOD’s planned road to salvation began the previous Sunday. I spent Sunday in Church with my Nana. The choirs would sing ten songs and Reverend Cook would preach for two hours. At school, we hosted a Christian Group from upper state New York called, “Word of Life Ministries. For an entire week, they bought a message of love, hope, family, friendship and salvation. The seeds of salvation had been planted.

The following Saturday morning, I found myself at Memorial Baptist Church preparing to spend the day playing games, listening to mini sermons, making new friends and oddly enough, taking a long look at the teenager in the mirror. The bad boy wannabe in me kept wondering how did I come to spend a Saturday inside of a Church?

After the last sloppy Joe was eaten and the last cherry or grape Kool Aid consumed, the children started to return home with their parents. A youth minister named Richard Wilson spoke to all of us teens who had helped during this day. Pastor Rich was from another Church in Germantown section of Philadelphia. He spoke about growing up in Germantown and how as a teen he always had a ball in his hands. He played basketball and football from sun up until sundown. He only attended Church when his Grandmother said so. He joked that no matter how early he woke up, his Grandmother was already at his house ironing a dress shirt for him to wear to Church. I saw myself in a teenage Pastor Rich. He said he thought he was going to heaven because he was a good kid, a nice guy, a great son and grandson and went to Church. He then read from Ephesians 2:8 and 9, “For by grace you have been saved, through faith and that not of yourselves, it is a gift of GOD, not of works, lest anyone should boast.” That verse he said gave him many things to consider.

Pastor Rich asked all of the teenagers to stand up and to take a look at each other. He pointed out we were from ethnic backgrounds, different colors, from different neighborhoods, different Churches, different schools. Yet we were all at this little Church in Germantown together. Why? GOD wanted us here, someone here wants to let JESUS into their life. A voice in my head reminded me a seed had been planted inside of me and here was a chance to water that seed; yet I sat in my seat while a girl named Maria joined Pastor Rich in the front of the room. I remained in my seat and told myself it was too late, maybe next time. As if reading my mind, Pastor Rich said, “We have time. It’s not too late to accept the invitation of Jesus.” He then read John 5: 24, “Verily, Verily I say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on Him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation, but is passed from death unto life.” I stood up and walked to the front of the church. I was not sure what to expect. No sounds of trumpets, no thunder and lightning, no angel sightings, just a sense that I was in the right place, at the right time, doing the right thing. I thought of my “Nana” and how I couldn’t wait to tell her. I thought of my mother and all of the times she said to me, “Steven, you will know when the time is right.”

My private thoughts were interrupted by Pastor Rich. Maria and I sat down and prayed and spoke with Pastor Rich. He said being a Christian is a process; it’s a journey. It will at times seem like an impossible journey when you’re so young, you will learn to use your Church Family and your new Christian Friends to help you. He said spending time in prayer and reading the Bible will help us with our Christian journey. It’s a lifelong growth process.

Pastor Rich was right of course. I am still growing, learning and processing my walk with GOD. I have been very fortunate. I married a Christian woman who makes praying for her family a priority. Through my wife, I am a member of a wonderful Church and a Church Family that I have come to love. I have been blessed. The Christian life is a journey. When we need help, Jesus is only a prayer away.

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

Your Story Is Your Testimony

Sun, 26 Sep 2021 04:54:33 GMT

Your Story Is Your Testimony

by Trustee E. Lynne Wooden

Today is Saturday, July 10, 2021, and I have a few stories crowding my thoughts, so I decided to go outside and enjoy the beautiful day that God blessed me with. I am sitting outside of my home in the place that my neighbor and I made our quiet-time space. We have windchimes, two nicely padded benches facing each other, potted colorful plants, an outdoor rug, end tables and some starlight lighting for the evening. This is the place where I am doing my summer writing for the BLOG just to give you a backdrop. Now for my story!

I was really missing my daughter and granddaughters today and was reflecting on our individual discussions that we have when we are together. I particularly enjoy my conversations with my 6-year-old granddaughter. That little girl is a deep thinker. You see, her Pop-Pop and I are divorced as I have discussed in previous writings. Although you would never know it if you were in a room watching the two of us interact with our grands. There was a time when I had no desire at all to even be in the same room with him. God makes all things new and beautiful when we put it in His hands though. My granddaughter senses that there is something missing in this ‘relationship’ because in our quiet times she asks me questions like: “GiGi, why don’t you visit Pop-Pop’s house with us? Why don’t you and Pop-Pop live together? Do you love Pop-Pop?” The last month when she, her sister, Pop-Pop, and I were together she asked him, “Can GiGi come to your house when we visit?” He looked at me, I looked at him, and she in turn looked at us and said, “Why can’t anyone answer that question? Is it too hard?”

The point in all of this is that someday we all would like to be able to sit down or lie down with our children or grandchildren and tell them ‘Our Story’, our entire story. As they get older, we would like to be able to add layers and details rather than hoping that they do not ask.

If you are single, you want to someday sit across the table from someone that you hope to spend the rest of your life with and tell your story – all of it. We all want that but what it will require is for us to stop mid-decision and ask, “What story do I want to tell?” When an opportunity, a temptation, a crisis is in the rearview mirror; when it is reduced to a story I tell – what story do I want to tell? Which of the available options do I want as part of my story?

Every decision you make becomes part of the story of your life. Every relational, financial, professional, and spiritual decision and its outcome become permanent parts of your story. We have all lived long enough to have a few chapters that we wish we could erase. No doubt we have a few stories that we wish we could rewrite. We ALL do. We call it regret. But chances are, the decisions that led to our greatest regrets could have been avoided had we paused to ask ourselves, “What story do I want to tell?” “What is my life’s testimony going to be if I do this?”

From this point on, live your life so that you can write a story worth telling. Write a story you are proud to tell. If you are in the middle of deciding right now, stop and ask yourself, ‘Of all the available options, which one do I want as a permanent part of the story of my life?”

Pop-Pop and GiGi have a good ending to our story because of God’s love for us and our understanding of God’s plan and purpose for our lives. We both chose to show our daughter and granddaughters the best of us, even during the difficult portions of our relationship. We wanted to show our granddaughters how good, mature, God loving people behave during times of adversity so that when they grow up and face life and its challenges, they will know what conduct is acceptable and appropriate for them and the people that they encounter. We have both agreed to one day tell our whole story to our granddaughter when she is old enough to fully understand because, in Christ, we can!

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit.” Romans 8:1 NKJV. For those of you who haven’t worked it out yet, forgive each other, forgive yourselves, and start a new and better ending to your story for you and the people that you love. Be a blessing and be blessed!

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

Sunlight And the City Girl: My Personal Experience of Awe And Wonder

Sun, 26 Sep 2021 04:54:33 GMT

Sunlight And the City Girl: My Personal Experience of Awe And Wonder

by Debora Gossett-Rivers

The world itself is full of awe and wonder, natural and man-made; there are so many to pick from. It is a sensory and divine gift when we get to experience both at the same time. When the first feeling of a new experience flows like silk through my consciousness, I celebrate the awe and wonder with emotion and interjections. I chose one personal experience of awe and wonder that has always lingered in my brain and beckons me to hold the inner vision as a picture post card memory and I am drawn to the outer vision like a moth to a flame.

Sunlight is my favorite color. Not just the obvious yellows, oranges, and associated hues but an unnamed color that fills in spaces with a natural glow. Sunlight provides rising warmth that paints the land gently pulling the world into eastern wakefulness and lulling it into western slumber. Sunlight allows plants and children to grow and causes the water to sparkle and dance. Sunlight welcomes life in and warms up urban landscapes on a large scale and on a small scale bakes a house into a home. A house of red bricks bathed in sunlight is visual comfort food. I love the softness of sunlight in the early morning, and I am in solar nirvana when natural light alone illuminates my home. Sunlight streaming through the windows of houses of worship signals the presence of the God we serve on worship day.

At each sunrise from the horizon, there is daily renewal afresh with opportunity, possibility, promise and achievement; there is natural illumination for positive movement in the world. Sunlight enhances the beauty of any locale in every season. If I lived on a farm, I would be awestruck by sunbathed amber waves of grain. Sunlight and its far-reaching rays in urban spaces unite the handiwork of God and man.

I’m a city girl from Philadelphia, PA with an urban perspective and I am always awestruck when I get to see another sunny day. In the midst of the hustle and bustle of urban living, I stop and take stock of natural beauty to dissolve any cynicism I may have about living in the cold, naked city. I am lucky because I get to witness and experience awe and wonder of the beauty of sunlight from the window seat of the bus and regional rail system. While our historical monuments maintain a stately presence basking in the sun; the evolving Philadelphia skyline allows sunlight to produce images of awesome wonder and gives way to solar praise. I have always loved how sunlight casts its rays upon urban landscapes heating the business district for the daily grind. The city movers and shakers get the chance to have their place in the sun.

When I ride the train to and from work each day I look forward to seeing skyscraping structures of glass and steel meeting the sunrise, waiting to be dressed by Mother Nature in golden business attire. In the evening I love to see the jewel toned colors of the setting sun dressing the same architecture for the evening against a backdrop of various hues of the blue sky and sun colored yellow, orange, pink, and purple clouds. I am compelled to photograph each time I think I see nuances on the landscape. A digital image of awe and wonder forever captured for my personal viewing.

In May of 2000, I was on the train travelling home from the God forsaken den of despair I called the office. At the right moment, I looked through the window in the advancing sunset and I received a personal epiphany from a golden, glowing, sunlit cross from atop the steeple of The National Shrine of St. John Newman. I realized that every workday would not be a bad day. This image of awe and wonder has left a permanent imprint on my brain, and I have looked forward to seeing this gleaming structure ever since.

Experiences of awe and wonder allow me to be human, to define my personal aesthetic and express my artistic response. I appreciate the splendor of the extraordinary, the elegance of the mundane and the beauty of the divine. I am afforded the opportunity to respond and to react to events and stimuli that impact how I see the world through the windows of my soul.

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

Ten Year-Old Ears © 2014

Sun, 26 Sep 2021 04:54:33 GMT

Ten Year-Old Ears © 2014

by Debora Gossett-Rivers

Children are adept at making things fit to the level of their understanding...

My mother left my father in the winter of 1974. For a short time, we lived in York, PA. A self-contained county 30 minutes from Harrisburg, PA. She and her three city kids from Philadelphia, PA had to adjust to a new family dynamic, living in a smaller city, a new school (McKinley Elementary School), a new radio station that played few songs by black artists (WORK), a new home run king (Hank Aaron), and eventually, a new President(Gerald Ford). In 1974, it seemed like the whole country was in an uproar in response to the constant changes going in our lives and society. Specifically, Watergate and the rising prices of gasoline, coffee, milk, and candy bars (my M&M’s and Hershey bars increased from a dime to 15 cents!) In the spring of that year my mother purchased a 1963 Ford Fairlane. She called the car her little “Putt-Putt” because of how the engine sounded. In that little car, I learned the words to many songs while riding shotgun with my mother and my siblings in the back. “Dancing Machine” by the Jackson Five, “Please Come to Boston” by Dave Loggins, “Yesterday Once More”, by the Carpenters, and “I Shot the Sheriff,” by Bob Marley. When I reflect on the memory of this story, it makes me realize that children are adept at making things fit in their world until they learn better. It was one of the most memorable periods of my life. The soundtrack of adjustment.

In 1974, there was a rock and roll version of “The Lord’s Prayer” sung by The Singing Nun/aka Sister Janet Mead. It became a worldwide hit, receiving a lot of airplays on the radio and a Grammy nomination. In the spring of 1974, I remember hearing this song on the radio when we would travel around York, PA during the week and on weekends travelling to visit our relatives in Baltimore, Maryland. After hearing this song play a few times, my sister, brother, and I thought we knew the words. We clearly understood the first stanza, “Our Father who art in Heaven.” When the nun sang the second stanza, “Hallowed be thy name,” my 10-year-old ears heard, “Hamma Samma Seesaw Say.” Those words fit in with the meter of the song and we sang that line with those words at the top of our voices with enthusiasm, zest, gusto, and glee as we rambled along on route 83.

After years of Sunday school, church services, and reading the bible, I realized in 1977 at age 14 what words Sister Janet Mead sang. I had an epiphany in church on Sunday morning and I roared with laughter. In 2010, thirtysix years later with the advent of the internet (the best thing invented to verify childhood memories and dispelling notions of insanity), I pulled up the 1974 version of “The Lord’s Prayer” by The Singing Nun on YouTube in and was reacquainted with an oldie but goodie. I got redemption when I was able to sing this song correctly with the same enthusiasm and gusto. If I had the chance to meet Sister Janet Mead, I’m sure she would forgive me at age ten and agree with me now and share a laugh too. When I tell this story to family and friends, they laugh and shake their heads. A quote from Maya Angelou says, “When you know better, you do better.” My response to any adjustment in life is “Hamma Samma Seesaw Say.” God truly watches over and forgives babies and fools.

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

From the Pen of the Pastor . . . Take Care of Your Temple!

Sun, 26 Sep 2021 04:54:33 GMT

From the Pen of the Pastor . . .Take Care of Your Temple!

by Pastor Gregory Ross

Dear friend,

“I pray that you may enjoy good health and that all may go well with you, even as your soul is getting along well.” 3 John 1:2 NRSV

In March 2020, the world was shut down due to a virus COVID-19. Now more than a year and a half later we are still dealing with the ramifications of it. I want to encourage you to make sure that you are taking care of yourself. This pandemic has forced us to change our sleeping patterns, our eating patterns and even our social patterns. Remember, God knows the end from the beginning, so He knew this pandemic was coming. He was not shocked nor was He surprised. The important thing is for us to understand that God IS in control, and if we follow His footsteps He will lead us in the right direction.

Take care of your temple both spiritually and physically. Make sure you stay connected with God through prayer, reading the Bible and spending time with others who also love the Lord. If you make sure that you are spiritually well, it will make it easier for you to be physically well.

Also, make sure that you're eating properly, sleeping properly, and doing things that you enjoy doing. Sometimes you may have to find new activities due to changes in your life, but don’t get discouraged. Use this as an opportunity to do something different that you enjoy.

Be Encouraged. Walk in Excellence. Speak Life.

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

From the Pen of the Pastor June 2021

Sun, 30 May 2021 04:54:33 GMT

From the Pen of the Pastor

by Pastor Gregory Ross

The Lord told Joshua, “Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9).

News reports would have us believe that within our communities we do not have any good, strong, Black Fathers. I beg to differ. We may not be on the front pages of Time or People Magazine, our names may not grace the pages of Sports Illustrated, but we exist. We will always exist. Social media enhances our failures and diminishes are successes; but we will not let that shape who we are.

When I say strong, I am going beyond physical strength. I am referring to spiritual strength. Yes, although physical strength is important in being a father, spiritual strength is even more important. It is our spiritual strength that allows us to take a licking and keep on ticking.

The late John Wooden, who coached the UCLA Bruins Basketball team for nearly 30 years said, “Physical strength is measured by what one can carry; spiritual strength is measured by what one can bear.” As a father it is good to be able to rake the leaves, shovel the snow, and take out the trash. But it is more important to share in your child’s victories, as well as share in their defeats; to encourage your child when they are doing well and when they are not doing well. It takes spiritual strength to push your child forward when the world is pushing you backwards.

How are we doing it day in and day out? We do it because we have God on our side. God gives us the strength to endure, persevere and succeed. God was with Joshua, and God will be with you! Continue to be a strong Black Father, but do not try it alone. . . try it with God.

Be Encouraged. Walk in Excellence. Speak Life.

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

Graduation Speech

Sun, 30 May 2021 04:54:33 GMT

Graduation Speech

by Debora Gossett-Rivers

To those newly graduated

Academically emancipated from ivied, ivory collegiate towers

So eager to apply your education, cashing in on the investment made in you Marketing your degree to the highest bidder

Work and travel to many places to gain life experience

See what is out there in this world and find your place in it

Do this now so that you will not look back with hindsight and regret

For you will learn more now than you ever did in college

Carve out a niche for yourself, make your mark if you can

Before you meet your occupational fate for a job may stifle your creativity, tie you down with strings of a steady paycheck, paid holidays, stability, and complacency

You will barely bat an eyelash before 15 years on the job have gone by and you are too young to retire and too old to start anew

You will look up in the mirror in the ladies’ room with strained eyes and gray hair and realize that 35 years have gone by and retirement is looming, wondering where all the time went

Hopefully, you will have something to show for your toil other than the car and the house; for some, that is enough, but for those whose spirit cannot be contained, now is the time to take chances, make mistakes, for the pill of pride is easier to swallow when you are young

Open your mind to what this world has to reveal to you before

You close it off with age, fatigue, and fear

Your time is now; do not wait for the right moment for it may ever be right in your mind’s eye take the time you have now and make it your moment so that you may shine brightly in the sun as this is the sunrise of your new life

Now go to the horizon and visualize your potential to achieve greatness

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

A Daughter of Two Fathers

Sun, 30 May 2021 04:54:33 GMT

A Daughter of Two Fathers

by Stephanie A. Scott

Protector. Provider. Guide. Leader. Teacher.

Characteristics intrinsic to our relationship with the Heavenly Father. O how blessed we are to receive the benefits of His divine characteristics as we navigate life’s peaks and valleys.

This becomes increasingly evident for me with age and reflection on my life through a lens continuously polished with spiritual growth. Re-examining my key life’s events is like witnessing a photograph continue to develop and reveal God’s constant presence, protection, provision, and guidance over the years, in ways that were not previously in-focus or fully visible to me at the time.

One of the greatest examples of His grace, for which I am eternally grateful, is His gift to me of my parents. Both were divinely ordained to pour into me a lifetime of preparation though their guidance and grounding. In this month of June, I am grateful to have had the appointment of a Protector, Provider, Guide, and Leader on Earth in my Dad, Charles L. Scott.

My father defined what my expectations as a woman, daughter, and mother would become. I was truly a Daddy’s girl, and he was truly a ‘Girl-Dad.’ When I was young, my sense of comfort and protection was unnoticeable to me. It was my normal. I cannot remember wanting or needing. I had no need to feel unsafe, unloved, nor unprotected. As an adult, I realize that this level of comfort was not always the norm for many of the women I have since encountered. I realize that he was a father-figure in the truest sense, even to others outside our family unit, including a friend whose home life had become less than optimal when we were teens.

His stature was grand, yet his smile was welcoming. He was a man’s man, yet he was a renowned cook. He was a serious provider, yet he was funny even when he wasn’t trying to be.

That’s my imprint. That’s my blueprint for how fatherhood should emulate the relationship of our Divine Shepherd. I did not fear. I did not want. I trusted without question. He was never too far away. Even now, his influence and legacy sustain me. Thank you, Lord, our Heavenly Father, for fathers here on Earth who emulate the love you have for us as your children.

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

Memories of My Father

Sun, 30 May 2021 04:54:33 GMT

Memories of My Father

by Michael D. Murray

My story is about not just my father, but my grandfather and my uncle. These men had a great influence in my life.

I remember growing up my father, along with my friends and their fathers, walking to Connie Mack Stadium at 21st Street and Lehigh Ave, to watch the Philadelphia Phillies Games. We had a great time whenever we went! My father also took me, my brother and a couple kids on our block to the park to play and then afterwards we would go to McDonald’s. We always had a good time!!!

My grandfather taught me how to drive. Some Sundays when we used to go over to my great-grand mom’s house to visit along with the rest of the family, we would drive over to Hunting Park at Old York Road and Lycoming Avenue. Once we got inside the park area, he would teach me how to drive. This man had patience, because I knew at times I was messing up; as time went on, I got better at it. I thank him for that.

My uncle didn’t have any biological kids, so he treated me like his very own son instead of his nephew. We would go to Phillies, Sixers and a few Eagles games (I don’t' like the Eagles), but that’s a story for a different time...LOL!!! ,We hung out quite a bit, especially bowling, we both loved doing that. He even helped me with my driving skills. Before I had a car of my own, he would rent me a vehicle from time to time. He was a cool dude!!!

These 3 men, whom I loved very dearly, played a BIG part in my life. Although all three departed this earth - my father in 1995, my grandfather in 1999, and my uncle 2018 - I wish that I could go back in time to do it all over again. Their memories will ALWAYS BE IN MY HEART AND SOUL. I thank GOD for having them in my life!!!

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

Father’s Day: Diners and Other Days with My Father

Sun, 30 May 2021 04:54:33 GMT

Father’s Day: Diners and Other Days with My Father

by Steven C. Rivers

Every third Sunday in June, the world says, “Happy Father’s Day” to millions of men fortunate enough to be Fathers. Money? That comes on the second Sunday in May…Mother’s Day! Mother’s Day is a Multi-Million Dollar spending day. Mothers deserve every flower, box of candy, jewelry, and expensive dinner they receive. Father’s Day is a little different. We receive a card, a bundle of socks, and a restaurant dinner if the wait time isn’t too long. My favorite Father’s Day gift is that tie that you have no shirt to wear it with. My Father was smarter than most. When I’d ask him what he wanted for Father’s Day, he’d say a tie that matches this shirt! You may think my father was ahead of his time. I just think he was running out of space in the bag of ugly ties that I bought him previously.

I lost my father, Stewart Rivera, on August 28, 1990. My Father and I were very close. He was there for my Little League Baseball games, High School and College Baseball and Basketball games. He even attended most of my Summer League games. Since Willie Mays was my favorite Baseball player, my father thought I should play centerfield when trying out for a Little League Team. The Coach, Bob Greenwall, looked at my 10-year fame and saw a short stop. My Father told me to go to the outfield and he hits several balls to me. I caught them all! By the time we were done, my Little League team had a 10-year starting centerfielder. Father knew best.

My Father had been a U.S. Navy man before becoming a Philadelphia Police Officer. He was a highly disciplined and routine driven. He raised me that way. When it came to sports, he rarely ever just rolled the ball out and say, “Go play son.” Play time with my father nearly always came with instruction. Learn to play the game the right way was his mantra for sports. He’d say to me, “Practice hard, play hard and excel.”

On Sunday Mornings my father had two jobs. The first job was to get me to Sunday school on time. That was a tough job. My Father loved classic movies or as I called them, old movies! He’d wake me up once my mother went to sleep and we’d head to the basement with a punch bowl full of cereal, two spoons and two cups. In our basement, I became familiar with Humphrey Bogart, Sidney Poitier, Cary Grant, and Vincent Price, among other actors. Getting up on Sunday morning was not easy for me. Sometimes we would not make Sunday school on time. My Father and I would go to The Oak Lane Diner for breakfast. That would give us just enough time for Dad to do his second job; pick up my mother and sister so we could all get to church on time. When My wife, Debora and I enter Thankful Baptist Church at 11:15-11:30, it is fair to blame our lateness on late night sports and Turner Classic Movies.

Father’s Day was nearly the same every year. My mother would try to get my father to go to a fancy restaurant. My father’s idea of a fancy restaurant was Rustler’s or The Ponderosa. In hindsight, any steak house would do. It was diner food that my father thought was the greatest food not cooked at home. Growing up, it seemed to me my father knew EVERY diner on the East Coast. One Saturday during the Summer of 1985, my father asked my friend Mark Allen and I if we were hungry. We had just played a basketball game and we were in our 20’s; of course, we were hungry! My Father said, “Get in, we’ll go to the diner.” Oh no I thought, he said THE DINER…that meant we could end up anywhere from Pennsylvania to New Jersey or Delaware. My Father drove to a place I’d never heard of called Marcus Hook, Pennsylvania. Nearly 36 years later, I still don’t know where Marcus Hook is located.

Our last Father’s Day together occurred in June of 1990. I said, “Dad, I know a nice place in Chestnut Hill called, “The Depot.” I told him they had steaks and really big burgers…not to mention I could afford it! Fancy? I wore shoes, not sneakers. My father came to pick me up much earlier than I expected. He asked me could we go to The Depot another time because he found a place he wanted us to check out. We ended up in Brooklyn Park, Maryland. If it helps, it’s about 5 or 10 miles from Glen Burnie, Maryland. I did not question my father as to why he seemed incapable of finding a diner closer to home nor did I ask him how he even found Fred and Margie’s. I never understood why he would look over the menu as if he were examining an evidence file. Everyone at every Diner knew my father was going to order some combination of steak and potatoes. He ordered his steak and potatoes and I ordered breakfast food… a normal day at the diner for dad and me.

My father and I finally made it to The Depot on August 12, 1990. We hung out all day together. Breakfast at a diner in New Jersey, he watched my basketball game in the afternoon and finally dinner at the Depot. The burger was so good I ordered one to go. My Father called me after he ate my burger and said, “The burger was good, but I’ll take you to a diner in Collingdale, PA; they have great burgers. A little more than two weeks later, he was gone. It really did not hit me until I actually heard the cremation machine. My seemingly indestructible Dad, “Big Stew” was really gone. I decided to take a walk to clear my head. I wanted to uproot a tree, kick a tombstone, or throw a rock. Instead, I cried, something I had not done all week. I could hear my father’s voice saying, “No tears, stand at attention and be everyone’s strength.” As I walked back to rejoin my family and friends, I realized I never got the name of that diner in Collingdale with the great burgers. Maybe it was better that way; it would not have been the same without my father being there.

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

A Daughter's Prayer (For A Mother’s Healing)

Sun, 25 Apr 2021 05:53:29 GMT

I am a Mother

by Trustee E. Lynne Wooden

“I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing

with the glory that will be revealed in us.”

Romans 8:18 NIV

I know that for this month our theme is, “A Mother’s Love” and everyone will probably be expecting to hear how great our mothers are . . . and I could write several books on how great I thought my Mom was, but God did not give me that to share with you, this time. The reason why I said, “God did not give me that” is because I asked Him several times, what He wanted me to share about Motherhood in all of its realms; Stepmother, ‘Play’ mother, Godmother, Auntie or Neighbor who stepped in to be mother. What I kept hearing in my spirit was, “Talk to the Motherless”. My prayer to God was, “Tell me what to write God, and I’ll do it”. Well, here it goes.

God gets blamed for everything; when things go well and when things go bad. When they go well, we thank Him, but when they go bad . . . , it’s still His fault because He’s God and He could have fixed it, right? Have you heard this before? I have. You see, I had a very good friend as a teenager who came to Church faithfully, went to Sunday School and the works. She was a bold, pray-in-front-of-everybody teenager. I was not. I wanted to run every time it was my turn to pray in front of a crowd of people. Anyway, my friend’s mother became very ill, and she fervently prayed at the altar for her mother every time she was in attendance at Church. My friend loved the Lord and knew His promises because she told them to me proudly. She truly believed in her heart that her mother was going to get better and come back to Church, because she prayed to God. Well, her mother passed away and my friend was devastated! She blamed God. She was angry. She talked to my mother about her feelings and my mother explained God to her in a way that she could understand God’s Sovereignty. But my friend stopped coming to Church and eventually my Mom and I lost contact with her.

In my senior year of College, I had to take a religion class and the only thing offered at the time was a class called, “Death and Dying”. Whatttt??? It turned out to be one of the best classes that I could have ever taken to prepare me in later years for the Care Ministry that I would be involved with. I call moments like this, a God experience!

“So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable, it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory, it is sown in weaknesses, it is raised in power, it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body.”

I Corinthians 15:42-44

A few days before my Mother-in-Law’s passing, the Deacons from Thankful came to pray for her and in the prayer, the Deacon said something like, ‘Lord, please bring our Sister back to the fold to do Your work’. She opened her eyes, looked at the Deacon and said, ‘Don’t pray that prayer, ask the Lord to prepare someone else for that work because I’m leaving to be with Jesus’. You have to know the God you serve to say something like that!!! She passed a few days later. Take time to learn what the Bible says about heaven. Trust God’s assurances about what eternity is like for those who love Jesus and apply yourself to knowing and serving God more and more. The more real God is to you, the less sorrowful and fearsome death will be. It will not be thought of as something awful when you know the time will be spent in God’s eternity.

I was blessed to be brought up in a loving, spiritually Christian home where God was always included in my Mother’s conversations, during the good times and the not so good. She talked to us about the goodness and the judgments, or wrath of God. No sugar coating in our house. So, unlike my friend and so many others even now, I not only learned about the easy breezy things about being a Christian, but I learned the ‘You will understand it better by-and-by’ things - like the death of a loved one. So, when my own precious Mother was told that if she elected to have heart surgery she would most likely die, or if she elected to not have heart surgery she would surely die, I had to remember what I was taught by her. My Mother taught me the beauty of believing in God in all of His Glory and she prepared me concerning His Sovereignty. She taught me that the Sovereignty of God means that God is the Supreme Authority, and all things are under His control. She also taught me that God has an absolute right to do all things according to His own good pleasure. I would have been devastated without the wisdom, knowledge and understanding of a loving Mother. My prayers to God were not that God would be with me, but that I would recognize His presence and His Hand in all of this so that I could experience peace of mind and heart, no matter what may occur. The Prayers of a Daughter!

God does not say He will always prevent crises in our lives – this is a world where terrible things will happen. God does promise to be there with us and for us always, helping us through any crisis. He promises to guide us towards peace and hope. He also promises to bring us to a place – Heaven – where all trouble will end forever. This is our hope in believing.

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

The Epiphany of My Maternity

Sun, 25 Apr 2021 05:53:29 GMT

The Epiphany of My Maternity

by Debora Gossett-Rivers

It’s hard to believe that there was a time in my life when I had no contact with children. I would tell anyone who would listen that I would never have children. I would have goldfish instead. I conceived this plan in my head to keep conception from occurring in other parts of my body. My pregnancy would last as long as it took for me to get to the pet store. In my youth, babies represented a loss of freedom and a drastic change in lifestyle. I had no intention of relinquishing all the trappings of high school success (Cheerleading, dances, proms, graduation, college) to take care of a baby. Fear of that kind of loss was the best birth control my parents could prescribe. When I was a teenager I wouldn’t hold a baby for fear that someone would think that I was its unwed, teenaged mother. Babies seemed to be uncomfortable in my arms, and the feeling was mutual. The thought of changing a smelly, poopy diaper on a consistent basis was more than I could bear. Babysitting was never in my adolescent career path.

“I don’t do children” was my battle cry and response to all matters concerning young humans. I would often say, “Put that child out of its misery!” When I heard the spine-tingling wail of a screaming waif. This wailing often occurred at church when I was trying to worship in quiet contemplation or at my job, (At the Welfare Office) where I saw the result of biological Russian roulette and sexual folly. I was a firm believer that children should be seen and not heard. The gap between me and babies began to close in 1985 when friends from college started having babies. I was content to pushing the baby in the stroller hoping that no one would assume that I was its mother. In 1990, one of my oldest friends needed someone to babysit her four-month-old daughter. It was an extreme emergency, and I was the only person available. I was shown how to change a diaper without the benefit of hands-on experience. For whatever reason, I was trying to reach age thirty without ever changing a diaper. I made it to age twenty-six approaching age twenty-seven. This event occurred on the day before Labor Day, 1990. The babysitting and diapering experience was not as traumatic as I had envisioned. The baby and I survived. I did the same with her brother two years later.

My oldest niece was born in 1993; the first baby in our family in almost twenty-five years! I was approaching age thirty (With four diaper changes to my credit). I held this child with much trepidation as she slept undisturbed in my arms. My sister would literally throw her in my arms, so I had to be prepared. When I changed her diaper, I had an audience as though I was a doctor in a medical school auditorium performing a delicate surgery on a patient. My family assumed that I knew nothing of babies, given my prior history (Little did they know). When my niece was about a year old, she would see me, frown up her face scream, and run away from me in abject terror. One look would trigger this tirade. I would say to her, “I’m not looking at you!” She wouldn’t let me get near her, but she would eat the food off my plate, and snatch the French fries out of my hands if I gave her half the chance. This went on until she was three years old, and I was expecting my first child. My niece who is now 28 years old and I are the best of friends now.

Life extended beyond my body in May 1996, when I delivered a healthy baby girl. My overflowing hormones and adrenaline gave me a false sense of confidence that I could handle all that motherhood was going to throw at me, while I was in the hospital. The reality came crashing down when I found myself marching up the hill from our apartment, enroute to the supermarket to get formula for the baby, less than two hours after I came home from the hospital. For the first three weeks with my new baby, I functioned in a sleep deprived haze. Eating was no longer a priority. Regaining lost sleep was my main goal.

My baby was the nocturnal ying to my diurnal yang. Nothing would lull her to sleep. I tried tapes of running water, white noise, and dolphins, all to no avail. I would feed her and feed her until the breast milk or formula would leak from the sides of her mouth. Her afternoon power naps would fuel her nocturnal strength and confound my ability to cope. Friends and family would say, “Sleep when the baby sleeps.” How can that happen when I still have a household to run, and my circadian rhythms commanded me to sleep at night? I still haven’t figured that out yet. I came to realize that there is no peace like the silence of a slumbering babe. Once the haze lifted, I was able to see my baby in a new light. I took delight in looking upon her angelic face, amazed by her beauty, her drooling, toothless smile, and watching her tongue wave like a flag when she was in full wail. When she would yawn, I would smell her breath to inhale her innocence. Infancy is the only time when people willingly smell the breath and kiss the feet of another person.

When I returned to work from a much too short maternity leave, especially since I was just getting the hang of motherhood at home; it took some adjusting to my schedule because I had to allow time for getting the baby ready and to the

daycare before I could go to work. No more just rolling out of the bed, getting bathed, dressed, and out of the door by the skin of my teeth!

My outlook on babies had changed in those few months. A 180-degree change, more profound than scrooge on Christmas Day. Now, I look forward to seeing babies (especially newborns) in the office. I consider it a perk of my job to hold the babies. I tell people that holding a baby is like looking into the face of God, because this is the closest we get to see innocence this side of Heaven. Seeing babies brings a smile to my face and a warmth to my heart, completely opposite from the disdain I displayed in the past. Having another daughter enabled me to again experience the joy of newborn innocence with a deeper appreciation. Every now and then I replay the moment of childbirth in my mind, the only way I can keep my children from growing up.

I see things differently now. I notice the looks and expressions of babies as they see me, gone are the horrified stares and ear-splitting screams. They are replaced with looks of permission, acceptance, and interest attached with a growing, toothless smile upon my approach. The bonding begins when I pick them up. We (The baby and me) communicate through eye contact, facial expressions, and mimicry. I carry on a conversation for both of us. I say what I think they would say if they could talk. They babble back and I talk some more. Eventually I give them back to their parents and look forward to spending time with my own.

At home I accept the fact that my children invade my room for the comfort, safety, and security of the maternal bed. Once there, they curl their bodies into fetal positions, resembling an ultra-sound image on the bed, in their attempt to return to the uterine environment they were forced to vacate. I relish the invasion now because in seeking their independence, they will no longer want maternal protection. In the outside world, I’m part of the parental patrol. Arresting potential disobedience with a raised eyebrow and a maternal glare that would deter the most petulant child. My beat is the playground, policing play areas, saving children from themselves. Averting them from broken bones, scraped knees, the unpleasant taste of playground wood chips, and reuniting lost children and frantic parents at the mall.

When my children have flown away from home into adulthood and I’m experiencing the rapture of retirement and celebrating the silence of an empty nest; I’ll volunteer at the hospital nursery holding sick and abandoned babies. I’ll hold them so that they can thrive and grow and in return, I’ll get another chance to behold innocence to behold the glory and handiwork of God. Holding the future, cradling a bundle of joy and possibility, and celebrating the epiphany of the cycle of life.

As my children have now grown into competent young women, I worry about them more now as they venture out into the world. I worry about car accidents and human trafficking. I no longer have parental prerogative and they don’t need my permission to live their lives. I hope that they will exercise wisdom and good judgement from the lessons and advice I have given as they grew up. The universe teaches them the lessons they refused to learn from us. The lessons the universe teaches are often cruel and costly. Ultimately, they know that home is a soft place to land with a warm, welcoming hug, sometimes tough love, chicken soup for their souls, and their bedroom waiting for them as they left it. A mother’s work is never done. Sometimes mother knows best, and a mother’s love is eternal.

Our Single Season

Sun, 25 Apr 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Our Single Season

by Minister Julie Husbands

Single Ladies & Gentlemen alike!!

The same God that showed you where the provision was for your business; what state to move to and where the new house was going to be; what car dealership to go to; or which school to send your children, because you want them to have the best education possible and so much more; He is the same God that knows who your future mate is and when the SEASON is for you to meet that person.

First, God is not surprised that we desire to be married. He is the God of Covenant, so He understands. God is concerned about everything that concerns us. We too, yes, us Singles; we are important to God. Just like He knows the number of hairs on our head; just like He knows our length of days in the earth; He knows everything about us which includes our desire to be married.

It is during our SEASON of Singleness that we get to work on ourselves – Our attitudes; how we handle money; our credit scores; past trauma; building businesses; going back to school. We learn what we like and dislike about ourselves. I might add though, it’s also during our Singleness that we learn how to be spiritually intimate with God in prayer, the Word, worship, growing in faith and obedience and much, much more. As we spend more time with Him, our focus is not on, “God, where is my mate?”

When we embrace our Singleness, we don’t speak negatively against it. We find joy in it. We recognize there are things we can do now in this SEASON, that we might not get to do when we’re married. Don’t allow your emotions to lead. Use your faith over feelings. Yes, I know it’s a challenge, but this is where you teach you learn to master your flesh (Feelings). It is in those moment that the flesh wants to lead that it must be given the word consistently. This is why it’s so important to have the word in your heart so you can apply it to every situation that arises.

A gentle reminder, you are accepted in the beloved. God loves you with an everlasting love. His love is kind and patient. Our Father’s love is so deep and excessive that we can’t hide from it. You are validated and affirmed. You are ENOUGH!

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

Singles' Quote

Sun, 25 Apr 2021 04:54:33 GMT

Singles' Quote

by Minister Julie Husbands

“How you carry your WAIT matters!”

A Mother’s Quote

Sun, 25 Apr 2021 04:54:33 GMT

A Mother’s Quote

by Debora Gossett-Rivers

God gives Mothers the following:

The nose of a bloodhound
eyes in the back of her head,
the reflexes of a cat
the patience of a saint

I am a Mother

Sun, 25 Apr 2021 03:16:38 GMT

I am a Mother

by Stephanie A. Scott

I am a mother.

I have always longed to be one, to be called one, and to love as one.

I have carried a child, yet never given birth.

Nevertheless, I am a mother.

I have organized and attended birthday parties, graduations, tournaments, and school meetings as a parent, godmother, mentor, cousin, and friend.

I am a mother.

I have never experienced labor pain, but suffered through the labor of adoption and longing.

I am a mother.

I have sacrificed, shielded, uplifted, and protected, willingly and deeply to ensure the best that life has to offer for all of my children.

I have wept, worried, prayed, and hurt on behalf of, and sometimes because of, all of my children.

My winding path to motherhood was specifically and divinely designed for my life’s purpose.

I am the stepparent. I am the godmother. I am the mentor. I am the cousin. I am the friend.

I am the village.

I am a mother.

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

A Mother’s Love - My Story

Sun, 25 Apr 2021 03:07:57 GMT

A Mother’s Love - My Story

by Steven C. Rivers

My story began on a cool Fall Friday, September 16, 1960; the day I was born. Let us go back to Thursday, September 15th about 9.30 PM. I heard a voice call out, “It’s time to go to the hospital.” So off we went! These two humans and I arrive at Woman’s Medical Hospital, which incidentally is now a Psych Hospital, which may or may not explain a lot about me now! Somewhere around midnight, I hear the female humans voice say, “Doctor, I think he’s ready to come out now.” Since I had no idea what these humans were talking about, I roll over and went to sleep. Besides, I was still angry about suddenly being upside down now.

When I finally awoke, it was late Friday morning. I was looking forward to breakfast! It was not as good as usual, but I needed to eat so I made the best of this situation. I could hear all this commotion, humans speaking about he will come out when he is ready. I had no idea they were speaking of me. Besides, come out to where? I was happy where I was; it was warm, I was being fed, I could play and sleep when I wanted, and I was getting used to being upside down. I still could not figure out why I seemed to be getting lower and lower.

Then, 3:15 came, I could hear voices yelling, “It’s time.” I think he’s ready.” I wanted to take a nap. Time for what? Who’s ready to do what I thought? I could see this bright light. Why do I seem to be moving closer to this light? I tried to slow my decent, but I could not. At 3:25 everything changed. Suddenly, I was not in my warm enclosure any longer. It seemed as if I was being handed to one human after another. I wanted to be put back where I had been warm and felt safe. No matter how much noise I made, no one seemed to care. The humans seemed to enjoy my noise. Then an idea came to mind, if they like this noise so much, I think I will rest up, then make this same noise around 2 in the morning. This way, we could all enjoy my noise together.

I was finally handed to a human who called herself Mommy. She held me close and whispered, “Mommy loves you.” I thought this Mommy person seemed pretty nice, maybe I wouldn’t need to return to where I was before moving towards the light. Little did I know this would just be the beginning of a long journey with Mommy and Daddy. By the way, neither mommy nor daddy found my noise very joyful at 2 o’clock in the morning.

A Mother’s love? My mother played catch with me and would pitch to me when my Father worked. She would make a circle of her arms so I could shoot baskets. I learned to use her neck and chest as my back board. She was my goalkeeper when I learned to play soccer. She came to many of my various sports games while I was growing up. Truth be told, my Mother spent most of those games covering her eyes for fear I would be injured.

When I went away to college, I called home once a week. Not because I was homesick, I was asked/told to do so. (That went for my Grandparents too!) Maybe I was homesick just a little. Cafeteria food cannot compare a Mother’s kitchen. There is a reason why fried chicken, collard greens and candied yams and homemade biscuits are called, “Soul Food.” Those foods nourish your body while enriching your soul, like a Mother’s love.

Nearly two years ago I became sick. Since I do not get sick very often, I tend to self-diagnose. I was wrong again. By the time I went to see my Doctor, she only looked at me and called The EMT Transport. Next stop, The Hospital of The University of Pennsylvania. That was April 30, 2019. The next day near lunchtime, when I opened my eyes, there was my Mother seated in the chair next to my bed. She calmly said to me, “We will stay prayed up and the doctors will fix whatever is wrong.” A Mother’s Love. Thirty minutes later, my wife, Debora, and our youngest daughter Marissa, came to visit me. I could tell seeing me with tubes inserted everywhere and being hooked up to machines, it scared our daughter. Debora whispered in her ear, “Daddy is going to be okay. He has people praying for him and good Doctors.” A Mother’s Love.

Later that evening a member of the hospital staff came to my room and asked what I wanted for dinner. I replied that I wanted my Mother to cook my meal. I wanted fried chicken, collard greens, candied yams, and homemade biscuits. It did occur to me this meal more than likely was not going to stay down, but it would have been great for my soul while it lasted.

I was released from the hospital May 10, 2019. Since that day I can count on my fingers the days my Mother and I have not spoken at least once in a day. We still end our phone calls the same way we did when I was a little – “I Love You”. A Mother’s Love is forever.

What Do You Know About Occupational Therapy?

Sun, 25 Apr 2021 02:58:48 GMT

What Do You Know About Occupational Therapy?

by Constance P. Johnson

As an Occupational Therapist (OT) or Occupational Assistant (OTA), we are a part of a vital profession that helps people across the lifespan participate in things they want to do, through the therapeutic use of everyday activities.

Occupational therapist treat injured, ill, or disabled clients through the use of everyday activities. We help these clients develop, recover, improve, as well as maintain skills needed for daily living and working. When you meet an Occupational Therapist at your first appointment, we’ll perform an evaluation to determine a baseline status of your issue to be treated including range of motion, strength, and balance; then we discuss with you our findings and goals that are function based for future sessions. Occupational therapy includes all activities or tasks people perform each day - For example, getting dressed, taking a class, cooking a meal, socializing with friends, and working at a job with limitations. Occupational Therapy is as unique as pre-medical training which includes knowledge of injury and illness; understanding of psych-social aspects of disability; knowledge of the rehabilitation system; the ability to analyze tasks; and the ability to creatively adapt the physical.

For over 36 years, I’ve functioned as a licensed Occupational Therapist, as a graduate of Temple University College of Allied Health Department. As a transfer student from Trenton State College of NJ, I initially wasn’t prepared to compete with the rigors and open racism that were evident upon acceptance into the Allied Health Program. It was well known that TU’s Allied Health Department only accepted 1-2 persons of color into a class of 20 per discipline. My first job was in the Montgomery County IU in Norristown, PA, where I was the first school OT of color to be hired in the Child Development Center. With great mentoring from my Supervisors, I was approached by a group of Physical Therapists to work with them in their private practice with children. Subsequently with this new experience working privately, I was inspired to try it on my own part-time while off in the summer. Therefore, I started my own practice in Philadelphia, incorporating in 1978, serving the elderly and some children in the Delaware Valley area (NW, CC, N. Philadelphia, and Chestnut Hill). Like most young adults, one would move about from job to job, but it wasn’t difficult for those of us to land jobs because as minority therapists, we were well known in the Philadelphia areas. I landed a job as a Supervisor on the stroke floor at the Moss Rehab Hospital for only 6 months; my son’s father suddenly was found deceased on the job at the Hemsley Greenfield Building, at the young age of 41. Here I am, a widow with a 3-year preschooler, having just moved into a new home 3 months earlier. As God would have it, the church, my neighbors, family, and co-workers were there for me. After things settled down, I needed to make a lifestyle change especially for my young son and myself. To make matters worse, I was up for a Director’s position when the Director of HR, a young woman of color, pulled me in to her office. There, she counseled me by saying, “I know you want the position, but you are needed by your son and you need time to yourself.” She also told me that while I may let this opportunity go by no one can take your God given credentials from you. I never forgot those words from her as I took time off from work and started grief counseling in preparation to be a single mom as a result of death. So, I decided to work part-time as an OT, contracting through my business. Since my son was so young, I didn’t want him to be away from me for too long. As an OT, salary was never a big issue, but it was a blessing to negotiate our own salary range and be employed as a private practitioner.

I chose to share some of my personal experiences as a woman of color OT, and the impact of life lessons. As a result of my experiences as an OT, I find it to be a privilege to work in communities with all people, but especially with my own. As a provider of services and helper, I inform others how to better function with their limitations in their homes. Do you think being an OT is a good occupation? Yes, if you love people and are willing to extend yourself to restore or improve their daily lifestyle habits. I happen to be one of those persons who enjoy working with families, children, and the elderly. The OT field is one of the higher paying professions in the healthcare job market today, which ranges from $70,000 - $100,000; as an Independent contractor to over $100,000 in a skilled nursing facility, home health, daycare center and retirement communities. As an OTA, one will work with a licensed OT generating 50% of salaries mentioned in the above job settings.

The American OT Association (2008) identifies 8 areas of Occupations in the OT Practice Framework

Activities of Daily Living (ADLS)
Instrumental Activities of Daily Living (ADLS)
Education
Work
Play
Leisure
Social Participation
Rest & Sleep

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

From the Pen of the Pastor

Tue, 30 Mar 2021 05:53:29 GMT

From the Pen of the Pastor

by Pastor Gregory Ross

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name's sake. Psalm 23:1-3 (KJV)

Relaxation: To be in a state of calmness in our hearts, minds, and spirits.

Unfortunately, we live in a fast-paced world where technology and life in general, have led many of us to have very scattered, detached, and overwhelming lives. Things such as, trying to keep up with our family and friends through social media; trying to attend every zoom event that we can, and trying to wrestle with our own internal frustrations and disappointments, and the like, can cause an inability to relax.

In the 23rd Psalm, we are reminded that everything we need God has it. If we allow the Lord to shepherd us, He will lead us. Important to note: It does not mean that every path where He leads us will be smooth. There will be some rough patches, but because we know the Lord is leading us, our confidence rests in Him. God shall supply all our needs according to His riches in glory! The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof, the world and they that dwell therein. Therefore, whatever you need God will supply. Relax.

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

A Message in the Garden

Tue, 30 Mar 2021 05:53:29 GMT

A Message in the Garden

by Stephanie A. Scott

Restoration typically begins with a desire to resurrect, grow, or move forward into the next phase of God’s will for you. For me, it is often preceded by a desire for change. This, in turn, typically results in a pivot towards self-care, self-repair, and most importantly, a realignment with God for the renewal, healing, and revitalization that He promises, and that only He can provide.

“And I will also give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit within you." - Ezekiel 36:26a

This month’s theme of restoration caused me to reflect upon a season in my life in 2018 when I faced multiple challenges regarding difficult life events, illness, and loss. The weight of these challenges hit hard and affected my physical health, but had also undeniably sharpened and reinvigorated my spiritual health. I began to rely more and more on my faith and was reminded that this was indeed only a season.

Seasons change. God reveals this in his creations, as well as in our lives. He prepares and sharpens us so that we may be increasingly ready for the plans he has for us and the unseen battles we have not yet encountered along our journey towards and through JOY!

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11 NIV

The long-term, physical damage to my health that the doctors so confidently and emphatically predicted during this time never manifested. Praise Him. I rejected the spirit of hopelessness and trusted only in God’s plans for hopefulness, revival, and restoration. “He’s never failed me yet.”

And the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will Himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.

(1 Peter 5:10 NIV

During that time, my garden had been a place of solace, whether working in it or sitting in it. This holds true even today. It so happened that the winter of 2018 in Orlando, albeit short, produced several nights of temperatures at or below freezing which really hit the garden hard. As a result, I lost a lot of fruit trees and tropical plants.

One memorable February morning, although I had early meetings scheduled for work, I felt led to begin the day out there amongst the plants and trees with the sunrise. I began by removing the dead leaves, trees, and plants so that I might begin planting their replacements and prepare for the upcoming season.

It was incredibly early, also quiet, and peaceful. While working there in the garden, I was talking with God as I often do. As I was pruning away the damage from the freeze, I noticed that a lot of what I assumed to be fully dead had actually begun to rejuvenate in the form of new buds or sprouts beneath the brown or in the stalks.

I said to myself, "Wow! These plants and trees really withstood a lot and still managed to survive. These things that God made are truly resilient."

And then He spoke to me and said, "So are you."

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

Singles' Corner

Tue, 30 Mar 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Singles' Corner

by Minister Julie Husbands

"Don't carry the legacy of the wound of your former relationship into your new relationship. It is vital that you be healed (Whole) before you start to date again. Healing is possible, but you must let the wound get the "medicine" it needs.

Let God touch the wound!"

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

Restoration Toward the Resurrection

Tue, 30 Mar 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Restoration Toward the Resurrection

by Debora Gossett-Rivers

In this Lenten season, we are encouraged to abstain and refrain from worldly pleasures for a period of 40 days, the same period that Jesus spent in the wilderness after his baptism, as described in Matthew Chapter 4. This period gives the faithful the opportunity for reflection, introspection, and restoration of the spirit as I am sure Jesus did during His time in the wilderness. As the period of Lent progresses, the resolve and willpower of the faithful are tested. Temptation is presented by the enemy in many forms just as Jesus was tempted during His time in the wilderness. This is where we learn to say as Jesus did, “Man does not live by bread alone.” (Matthew 4:4).

Prayer is essential to the successful focus of reflection and realignment as I am sure that Jesus spent hours and days in prayer travelling in the wilderness. Reflection requires a bit of humility, forcing us to realize that we are not as great as we think we are. I am sure Jesus did not want to be alone in the wilderness, facing the elements, dealing with Satan, giving up food to fill His belly and shelter to keep Him warm and dry, but He knew he had to do this to fulfill His divine purpose and destiny. Jesus’ successful journey in the wilderness paved the way for the passion, His suffering, resurrection, and the rejoicing that followed.

Lent helps us to clean out what is cluttering our spirit, “spring cleaning” if you will. If your temple is a clean spiritual house, peace and contentment will dwell there. Freedom is restored from within to move without obstructions and hindrances. We are attempting to walk a Godly path. Restoration helps the realignment of the body and spirit so that together divinity springs forth and godliness abides. The kinks in the armor are repaired as God patches up the holes and fortifies our defenses against advanced temptation. As the Lenten season clears the clutter, there are no hiding places, and the truth greets you at the door. We celebrate in the glory of Jesus when He arrives in Jerusalem. We prepare for the events of suffering to come to further appreciate the sacrifices that Jesus made to save our souls. Upon resurrection our spiritual house is cleaner and then rejoicing begins.

THE Blessing of Pain (Restoration & Resurrection)

Tue, 30 Mar 2021 05:53:29 GMT

The Blessing of Pain (Restoration & Resurrection)

by Trustee E. Lynne Wooden

“Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."

Romans 5:3-4 (NIV)

Sometimes pain is a gift that tells us what needs fixing. It also tells us what needs to be healed, restored and resurrected in our lives. I learned this lesson when I was going through a divorce in 2009 and again in 2013 when going through a breast cancer diagnosis. Notice carefully that I did not say my divorce or my breast cancer diagnosis. That is because through that pain process, I also remembered how to see things for what they really were. I prayed for discernment from God long before this happened. I did not ask for those things to happen, nor did God give them to me, so I did not claim them as mine.

What I discovered in spending time with God was He allows some things to happen! Okay! The question that I never asked God was, “Why?” “Why was this happening to me, God?” Honestly, my question was, “God, what do you want me to learn from this?” I could not hear God. I could not hear Him because sometimes we expect God to pull a magic wand out and fix things the way our finite minds want Him to fix them. I could not hear God because He wanted to hear from me. He was not speaking the way I wanted Him to speak, which was to handle the problems immediately because He was God, and I knew that He was able. What I learned a little later in the pain process was that God wanted me to spend some time with Him, first in Prayer and then in His Word.

It was in those moments of Prayer with God that I began to receive my restoration. My restoration had absolutely nothing to do with alleviating the pain though. The pain in my marriage gave me pause; while talking to God in prayer, I could remember who my first love should have been. The pain concerning the breast cancer made me totally aware in that God was still in control and He always has the final say in things. God is able. Get that into your spirit. God is able to do what you are asking Him to do. Even if He chooses not to act, there is great peace and hope for us in knowing that He can! Your friends, therapist, mother, father, spouse, and pastor cannot, but God can!

You see, Prayer gave me an opportunity to open myself up to the promptings of Holy Spirit. God directed me to passages in His Word that I was familiar with and in turn, not so familiar with. God spoke directly to me through His Word, and I listened intently and with purpose. Through this process of Prayer and God’s Word, I remembered something that my sister Jackie used in prayer ministry when she was a member of Thankful – “Prayerful Preparation Produces Powerful Performance.” During this painfilled time in my life, I substituted the word ‘Performance’ with ‘People’. I wrote it in my notebook I keep by my bedside only to introduce these powerful ‘Ps’ seven years later as our Intercessory Prayer Motto at my Church on Wednesdays. Some things need to be resurrected.

When God comes near, there is an obvious trail that tells of His visit. When He performs a resurrection miracle in our lives we should be changed and drastically different. What has He done for you? Has He resurrected your hope; your marriage; your finances; your children’s spiritual lives; your career; your health; your heart for Him? He has done all of that for me except my marriage. What He has done there is Matt and I have become good friends once more. We are one where our daughter and granddaughters are concerned. I have learned to see him through my spiritual eyes and to love him in a manner that is pleasing to God. God, in His Sovereignty, will handle the rest.

An encounter with God is life altering. Ask Hannah (I Samuel 1), Job (Job 42), Jeremiah (Jeremiah 8:22), Stephen (Acts 7:55), Paul and Silas (Acts 16:25-34). Only through pain could they experience the depths of true worship. When God restores you and resurrects those things in you that overwhelms you with His boundless love and power, you notice a radical difference in your lifestyle and the way you look at life and ministry. You should work differently, play differently, react differently, measure success differently, eat differently (still working on this one y’all, with God’s help), love differently, spend money differently, pray differently, and serve differently. Every aspect of your life should be different than before. That is the blessing of pain. It takes us to points of desperation and need, to pivotal moments of prayer and rescue/restoration and resurrection, that we would never experience if left to our own comfortable routines.

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

A Clean House

Tue, 30 Mar 2021 05:53:29 GMT

A Clean House

by Debora Gossett-Rivers

In uncluttered living spaces

Peace and contentment dwell

Freedom to move

Without obstructions and hindrances

The brain works better

Every thought is in its place

The heart beats stronger

The blood flows freely

In uncluttered living spaces

Divinity springs forth

Godliness abides

In uncluttered living spaces

Growth abounds

Roots grow strong

Flowers bloom and blossom

In uncluttered living spaces

There are no hiding places

The truth greets you at the door

Secrets and lies are unwelcome guests

In uncluttered living spaces

The world is large, the view is broad

And all that was lost has been found

Spring Cleaning

Tue, 30 Mar 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Spring Cleaning

by Steven C. Rivers

Well men, it is that time of the year again! It is once again time for Spring Cleaning. Gentlemen, I do not mean cleaning your floors, or your living room, your bathroom, your yard, or even “The Man Cave.” Besides, our wives, our girlfriends and I dare say, our mothers know, “The Man Cave” will be spotless! It is time to spring clean our insides. It is time for many of us to visit our gastroenterology Doctor...the “Gastro” Doc!

Believe me when I say I understand no one wants to visit the “Gastro” Doctor. It is never anyone’s favorite Doctor to make an appointment with; yet nevertheless, a call must be made. African Americans are 20% more likely to contract Colorectal Cancer and 40% more likely to die from it. We are also more likely not to get the necessary screenings and testing to combat this deadly yet preventable form of cancer.

Colorectal Cancer is the second deadliest cancer in America. Doctor Durado Brooks, Vice President of Prevention and Early Detection at The American Cancer Society says, “This disease is ravaging the Black community and it is more important than ever, that everyone has access to and is receiving the recommended screenings.” Even during The Coronavirus Pandemic, necessary screening tests are available to prevent the disease or find it at an early more treatable stage.

The American Cancer Society recommends people at average risk of Colorectal Cancer to begin regular screenings at age 45. People at higher risk for colorectal Cancer should speak with their Doctor about beginning screenings earlier.

This may include people with:

A family history of Colorectal Cancer or certain types of Polyps.
personal history of Colorectal Cancer or certain types of Polyps
A personal history of inflammatory bowel disease (Ulcerative Colitis, Crohn’s disease, Diverticulosis, Irritable Bowel Syndrome)

Knowing the possible symptoms of colorectal cancer can help guide you and your Doctor in formulating a plan for your health care:

A change in bowel habits (diarrhea or constipation that last more than a few
days)
Rectal bleeding
Blood in your stool
Cramping and or pain in stomach
Feeling tired or weak
Unexplained weight loss

It is important to remember, having one or more of these symptoms does not mean you have colorectal Cancer. However, speaking to your doctor and scheduling an appointment with a Gastroenterologist certainly would not hurt. Proper testing, which may include a procedure called a colonoscopy, may be recommended. Do whatever you must do to remain healthy. Don’t you want to be here for the next EAGLES, SIXERS, PHILLIES, or FLYERS PARADE?

Make that phone call today for a chance at a better, healthier tomorrow. Restoration begins on the inside!!!!!

The Logistics of Sugar

Sun, 28 Feb 2021 05:53:29 GMT

The Logistics of Sugar

by Debora Gossett-Rivers

When you hear the word Diabetes (Diabetes Mellitus), a term translated from Greek and Latin words meaning passing of the sweets, meaning excess sugar passing through blood and or urine. Visual images from the media of deprivation, medical and dietary restrictions, blindness, amputation, renal failure, coma, and death swirl violently in your mind. For some, the diagnosis kills the patient faster than the disease. I knew that Diabetes ran on both sides of my family. My mother was diagnosed with Diabetes in her forties and my paternal aunt (My father’s eldest sister) was diagnosed in her fifties. When I was informed of their diagnoses, I made a conscious effort not to contract this disease. I was determined not to be part of the stereotypic racial demographic of diabetes. Why is the African American community disposed to and so affected by this condition? It must be something more than diet, environment, and access to healthcare. What is it in the African genetic makeup that diabetes ravages us so severely? Is there something in the motherland that somehow protected us from this? What treatments were used there that western medicine has not yet figured out?

I decided to take a proactive approach. I limited my consumption of sweets, ate veggies, lean meats, fish and lead an active and healthy lifestyle so that I would not become a metabolic statistic. I admit that I love rice and pasta dishes with silky sauces, corn on the cob dripping in butter, and vegetarian pizza. My husband was diagnosed pre-diabetic as well, in 2008. Prediabetes is the stage before full-fledged diabetes develops. A pre-diabetic individual has blood sugar levels higher than normal usually between 100-125mg/dl. My husband can manage his with diet and medication. In my opinion at that time, being prediabetic is like being a little bit pregnant. I now know the difference. Unfortunately, this means that my daughters may be bound by the bands of a genetic double helix tying them to a possible diabetic fate as both of us are diabetic. The genetics of my situation unfortunately was inevitable. My relatively healthy diet and lifestyle probably kept me from being diagnosed at a much earlier age.

On July 26, 2017 I had the privilege of touring the National Museum of African American History and Culture NMAAHC in Washington, DC for the first time. As I toured the museum, I came across an exhibit about sugar and how it was the driver of the slave trade. The exhibit tells the world that sugar was sweeter, more powerful, and more deadly than gold. The exhibit case was full of loose, white sugar, ornate and ordinary sugar bowls, and related utensils. My snarky response to this exhibit was, “Sugar has been killing black folks on the outside (slavery) and on the inside (diabetes) for over four hundred years.” I had no idea that in one month how personally prophetic that statement would become. It was as if a diabetic warrant had been metabolically signed for me on that day. This is where my personal diabetic journey began.

My diabetic diagnosis happened on August 29, 2017 at age 53. It was the climatic event of three of the most stressful years of my life. A move to a new home, the life changes of my children (proms, graduations, college send-offs.) The non-diabetic related deaths of my parents, aunt, uncle, 2 cousins and stress of family discord had unknowingly begun to take a toll on my own health. I went to the doctor after experiencing days of fatigue and frequent urination. I blamed my malaise to August heat and humidity. I knew my body enough to know something was not right. I went from feeling weird to not feeling well. During and eye exam, my ophthalmologist advised me to go to my doctor to check my sugar. This diagnosis was a shock to my system. I always prided myself on being in good health for my age at every stage of my life. I was never the candy, cake cookie, pie eating kind of girl. I did not smoke and rarely drank and walked a lot. To me that was the combination for a long and healthy life.

My dietary life flashed before my eyes. I envisioned with horror, meals with tasteless plates of food, sugar substitutes, and water. When I arrived home from the doctor, I informed my husband of what the doctor told me, I curled up in a fetal position on my couch and cried like a baby. When I was admitted in the hospital 3 days later, September 1st, my glucose reading was 573, possible stroke range. I had no idea of how serious my condition was. I spent 5 days in the hospital, 3 days in intensive care from Diabetic Ketoacidosis, a serious diabetic complication that is potentially fatal if not treated. Other than childbirth, this was the first time I spent more than two days in the hospital. I was poked and prodded by health professionals and until my veins cried uncle. The worst of it all was the thought of having to inject myself several times a day with insulin for the rest of my life. I was up close and personal with illness and face to face with my mortality. The first week home after my discharge from the hospital I would sit up all night afraid to go to sleep for fear that I would wake up blind. I had to get used to a new normal. I thought that I would never be able to travel because of my medications. I was so resentful. How could I improve my diet when I did not eat the foods guilty for causing this condition in the first place? My Endocrinologist Nurse Practitioner has been a wonderful guide throughout this journey. She gave me a thorough examination and listened to my tale of woe. She let me know that I would survive and that I would be able to manage this condition.

As the bible says, “Obedience is better than sacrifice.” I was going to manage my Type 2 diabetic condition through obedience. I was going to do what the doctor said because I was unwilling to sacrifice the use of my limbs, my organs, my sight, and my life to this disease. Obviously, there are diet and lifestyle changes. I was resentful at first because I believed that I followed the rules. I chose to eat the lean meats and fishes. I enjoyed eating the occasional cake and the steak and until my tongue was satisfied. I drank lots of juice and soda because I do not like beer and wine. The deprivation is far less than I initially envisioned. I had to show more love to my body because sweet sugar is a killer. I am now reduced to diet green tea, diet cranberry juice, and seltzer water. I monitor my carbohydrate intake because they are sneaky and break down into sugar. The internet provides scores of lists indicating foods that assist in reducing glucose numbers. Portion control is the key to successful diabetic mealtime management. I carefully read the labels on food containers for recommended serving size. It is recommended that I have one cup of rice per meal or one cup of pasta per meal along with veggies and a protein. When snacking, I can have 10 French Fries or 12 tortilla chips. I try to have no more than 45grams of carbs per meal. I walk more, and I prick my finger once daily to get my fasting glucose numbers (before meals) to make sure I am truthful about my diabetic management. Had this diagnosis happened when I was younger, I do not know if I could have dealt with it. Adaptation and adjustment occur when no other options are available.

Technology is now available to patients that lessen the pain and discomfort of managing diabetes and dealing with the emotional baggage that comes with this condition. I learned more about my medical benefits when I discovered that the durable medical equipment needed to manage my condition could not be easily picked up at my neighborhood pharmacy. Durable Medical Equipment include the syringes, test strips, glucose meters that my doctor had. I am more concerned now because if I ever needed to purchase additional life insurance, I could be charged higher premiums or denied totally because I now have a pre-existing condition. My attitude has been that I am going to beat this condition. I enrolled in a four-week diabetes education class where I had to accept the fact that I was diabetic, I learned about the severity of my condition, how to manage my diet, and adhering to my treatment plan with medication. Other diabetics were helpful in my navigation in this journey. They would whisper in my ear, “I’m diabetic too” and would give sage advice. Some were alarmists dispensing the worst-case scenarios of blindness, loss of balance, slipping into a diabetic coma, and death.

In the first year of my diagnosis, I have lost over 20 pounds, my glucose and A1-C numbers have reduced to acceptable prediabetic levels that have resulted in the reduction of insulin units and now once daily injections. I am empowered because I have respected my condition and I am obedient to my body so that I do not fall prey to the complications that diabetes can bring if not properly controlled. I now view candy, cake, cookies, pie, ice cream, and pasta as a dietary privilege as opposed to my gastronomic right. When I travel, care is taken to make sure my insulin is kept cold. I make sure that I have enough medication for a few days travel. It is always a question and consideration of logistics, knowing how and when to make to adjustments to create a successful outcome.

In August of 2020, three years into my diabetic journey, I am now off the daily injection of insulin which is a great victory. I am grateful to be loosed from this medical tether. I take an oral medication called Metformin. I am aware that there are issues with this drug. I am unable to take other medications that are advertised on TV as I suffered diabetic ketoacidosis. I also include natural items in my diet. Namely, cinnamon and ginger whose antioxidant properties are beneficial in reducing blood sugar levels. I still must be mindful of the other complications that Diabetes brings, heart disease from increased cholesterol levels, neuropathy, vision loss, slow healing wounds, kidney failure, so I stay current with my doctor visits. This diagnosis gave me a fresh perspective on life. I had a minute of self-pity, but I took a hard look at myself and made it my mission to manage my diabetic condition. My attitude was to live and maintain a quality of life not dictated by the worst that could happen. I am no expert by any means or stretch of the imagination but maybe this journey was to teach me a lesson so that I can impart my experience to others about action and consequences. Every now and again a bowl of ice cream is worth the slight uptick in my glucose numbers. I must also be careful about my numbers being too low as that presents another set of problems. My lowest reading was 49. I did not feel bad, but I knew I needed to eat. I know that every diabetic story and journey is different. Now I eat to live, and to live better. I have not been given a death sentence, just a wake-up call to make changes in time to save my life; and through my journey as a survivor, I hope to save someone else.

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

From the Pen of the Pastor

Sun, 28 Feb 2021 05:53:29 GMT

From the Pen of the Pastor

by Pastor Gregory Ross

This month's Fresh Fire BLOG is about LOVE….

We must include in our discussion, the love of God. God loved us so much that He sent His only son Jesus Christ to die on a cross for us for the wrong that we have done (John 3:16). What does that mean? Due to the sin of Adam and Eve, which occurred back in the garden of Eden (Genesis 3:6), all of us sin continuously which separates us from God (Isaiah 59:1-2). This separation could lead us to an eternal place called Hell (2 Thessalonians 1:9). God knew that for us to be put in right relationship with Him, there had to be the shedding of blood (Hebrews 9:22).

Throughout the Old Testament the Children of Israel were constantly sacrificing animals to God seeking forgiveness of sin (Leviticus 4). But God said He was going to send the perfect lamb (Genesis 3:16). We would no longer need goats, bulls, lambs, or pigeons to seek forgiveness. Jesus Christ, His Son was the perfect lamb (Galatians 4:4). He died once for all mankind and got up from the grave in three days (1 Peter 3:18, 1 Corinthians 15:4).

If we confess with our mouths and believe in our hearts that Jesus Christ is the only begotten son of God; He died on a cross and rose again, (Romans 10:9-10), you can be saved as you celebrate this month of LOVE.

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

Guard Your Heart but Don’t Hold It Hostage…….

Sun, 28 Feb 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Guard Your Heart, But Don't Hold It Hostage

by Minister Julie Husbands

"Guard Your Heart, But Don't Hold It Hostage"

The above is my clarion call to those of us in our Single Season. Yes, seasons do change. Proverbs 4:23 says, “Guard your heart with all diligence for out of it flows the issues of life.” Do not carry the legacy of the wound of your former relationship into your new one. Healing is vital after you have experienced hurt. If you do not present yourself to God’s process of healing, wholeness cannot occur. You will repeat the same cycles and choose the same type of people that hurt you previously.

Healing is possible if you make a decision that you desire to be healed; but if you are holding your heart hostage because of hurt, anger, disappointment, rejection and so much more, how can God touch the wounds? How can you learn how to love again like you have never been hurt?

When the heart is guarded, walls as high as the ones in China are up. It is not just protected but fortified!!! However, nothing can be released, and neither can anything enter.

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

Keeping the Covenant

Sun, 28 Feb 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Keeping the Covenant

by Steven Rivers & Debora Gossett-Rivers

Our story through love, time, and public transportation in Philadelphia, PA.

In 1992, was the first time I saw the man who would become my spouse was in the Germantown section of the city. He was too cute, and I assumed he had a girlfriend. I would see him on quiet streets in the neighborhood and occasionally on the H bus route. Steven told me that he had seen me in the neighborhood in 1990 (You never know who is’ watching you.) He said he saw me with a royal blue shopping cart taking my laundry to the laundromat. Without words, I noticed him, and he noticed me and then eventually, we noticed each other (God had to work on us both). The first words we spoke to each other were on 05/06/95 at the H/XH bus stop at the intersection of Greene Street and Schoolhouse Lane. We were formally introduced by a mutual friend (my cousin’s prom date) on SEPTA’s southbound route 53 bus in 1995. We exchanged numbers. Our first phone call lasted more than 3 hours.

One of our first dates was a porch date on a warm Sunday evening in the spring. Our first big date was to spend the day together on June 30, 1995. We walked around our favorite places in Center City Philadelphia. We had lunch at Ishkabibbles on South Street. He was 34 and I was 31. At that time, we were both battle-scared in love but not rebounding. We both had kissed our share of frogs and toads. I believe that those lost romantic battles paved the way for the right person to come along. I was shocked when he introduced me to his mother on our first date. He said he was impressed with me when I invited him to church (He gave up an afternoon pickup basketball game with his friends.) I grew up in Thankful Baptist Church being a member since 1975 at age 11. Steven eventually joined Thankful in 2012. When we started dating, SEPTA was our mode of transportation since neither of us had a car at the time. We would ride on the 53 bus to get to Broad Street and Erie Avenue. A kiss for luck and we would start our workday. He would meet me and greet me with a kiss when I got off the R8 Train (Now Chestnut Hill West Line) train at the Chelten Avenue Station from my part-time job in the evening and walk me home. We rode the Market-Frankford Line to see fireworks at Penn’s Landing and traveling southbound on the Orange Broad Street Line to cheer on the Sixers and the Phillies. We have rarely been apart since.

Steven and I married on Valentine’s Day in 1996 at City Hall by Judge Goodheart. He was age 35 and I was age 32. A reporter from WPVI Channel 6 Action News interviewed us after the ceremony. The first family issue, we all (Friends and relatives) got stuck in the elevator in City Hall leaving the courthouse. One day at work, Steven called me on the telephone and said, “Hello Wife.” I looked at the phone and said, “Hello Spouse.” The endearments have stuck and lasted ever since. When I address our anniversary cards, “Spouse” is on the envelope, with my signature, ‘Wife’. Over the past 25 years, 2 children, 2 cats, 4 cars, 1 apartment and 2 houses later, we still manage to make things work. My Mother-in-law once said that we were two late bloomers who met and married.

One thing that keeps our marriage intact is having more than one television in the house. Steven likes sports and old classic Turner Classic Movies. I call those movies “dead people acting.” I will keep the TV on all night long and let CNN and the Hallmark movies put me to sleep. Steven calls my sappy and predictable Hallmark Channel movies “Tripe.” Our date night is on Tuesday so that we can watch NCIS together. When I think about our upcoming milestone 25th anniversary, it is amazing to be a part of something that has lasted so long. I love how my husband never forgets birthdays and our anniversary. Unfortunately, the pandemic has not given me a chance to really focus on a proper celebration. When life gets back to normal, a vacation celebrating our life together is due to us.

Marriage may not be a job, but it is work. In every marriage, communication and prayer is key. Steven said that Pastor Ross advised him that prayer with your wife will make your marriage fuller. Steven is clearly the better communicator. He leaves almost nothing out. I am constantly working on that part of our marriage. It drives him crazy when I change plans on the fly and that I choose to take the scenic route on driving trips. I appreciate when he calls to discuss important matters thus keeping the line of communications open. Recently He called me to see if it was okay to work a full day at the Library in a separate section away from the public during the pandemic. I appreciated that he was considerate enough to tell me what is going on with him. He loves my cooking even though my first attempt at making crab cakes was an epic fail. They looked like hockey pucks. My pasta and chicken meatballs are one of his favorite dishes. When the minister, or judge (In our case) says, “For better or for worse”, they are telling the truth. The better can always be better, and the worse is the test that makes you or breaks you. Some arguments force us to go to neutral corners. Sometimes we agree to disagree. We have agreed more than not. Marriage teaches you to pick your battles because some battles are not worth the grief. Sometimes you must surrender your will, and mend what is broken to keep the covenant. I believe our evolving faith and our village has strengthened our marriage. The passage in the church covenant we recite on Communion Sundays says it best about celebrating joy and with tender sympathy, bearing each other sorrows and burdens. We have seen each other through serious illnesses and deaths of parents and grandparents, and we have held each other up. We still have our separate friends, but we also have relationships with other married couples.

When we purchased a home of our own in 2013, we decided to stay in Germantown because of close access to bus routes and regional rail stations. Steven and I still coordinate our schedules and we will meet at Jefferson Station on Fridays after work to go to Reading Terminal to get groceries from the Farmer’s markets and ride home together. Along our journey, we know couples who have successfully remained in their marriages and those whose marriages unfortunately failed. After 25 years, we still enjoy each other’s company and take walks along Penn’s Landing and find ourselves running to get the last Chestnut Hill East or Chestnut Hill West train for the night. The use of Philadelphia’s SEPTA public transportation system remains a big part of how we are moving around in the city for work, play and to look out the window and watch the world go by and watch sunshine surrender to moonlight. We have been blessed with the first 25 years and with God’s grace and blessing, we will celebrate 25 more.

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

What Makes Love Last?

Sun, 28 Feb 2021 05:53:29 GMT

What Makes Love Last?

by Pastor Gregory Ross & Reverend Beatrice E. Ross

“Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.” 1 John 4:7 (NASB)

What makes love last?...

Having been in love with each other for nearly forty years, we have some suggestions that have helped us to make our love last….

First, you must be in love from the onset of the marriage. You do not grow ‘in love’, your love grows throughout the years.

Always try to make her happy. If you have a good woman she will reciprocate. Making her happy goes beyond recognizing her during the holidays, birthdays, anniversaries. Make her happy just because. Happiness is centered around what is happening. So, if your wife is not happy, try to figure out why and work on how to turn the situation around.

Making him happy may mean praying for the things that concern him and your relationship, giving him space, quietly sitting next to him, riding in the car to keep him company and letting him know without words he does not have to go it alone, appearing with his favorite soft drink and chocolate turtles, (the caramel pecan kind), or making his favorite homecooked meal. You may not always bat a thousand, but you will periodically get to first base.

Being patient and kind is also important. No one is perfect, but that does not mean you are not perfect for someone. We realize that if we dwell on the imperfections of the relationship, then it will thrive negatively. You work on the imperfections to make them insignificant. (Who really cares which way the toilet paper is hung). If a person accepts the faults of the another, the marriage can survive, if it is without physical or mental abuse.

Finally, this probably should have been first, make God the center of the relationship. It is never too late if the husband and wife agree. God can speak in the silence better than we can speak out loud. He can see you through darkness when times are tough. In addition, He will carry the couple when the weight of the relationship becomes too hard to bear.

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

Trust the Process

Sun, 28 Feb 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Trust the Process

by Eugene & Andréa Ross

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight.”

Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)

‘Trust the Process’, a phrase made popular by Philadelphia 76ers star Joel Embiid, has a strong influence on our lives. In the case of the Sixers, it was used to explain away their years of focused development and the relaxed importance on winning games. “Trusting the Process” meant accepting the struggle because the reward would be worth it. Now the Sixers, led by Embiid, are currently the top team in their conference, and have a chance to complete their goal; win a championship.

Like the Sixers, we have also had to trust the process, God’s Process. When we were first engaged, we never expected the world to shut down due to a global pandemic. It seemed our dream wedding celebration would be delayed, but God worked on our behalf and cleared a path for us to complete our goal of becoming one. Trusting God’s Process meant not being able to see where we were headed, but we knew who was in control.

Throughout this first year, we have continued to trust God’s Process in everything we do. Being in quarantine has allowed us to build upon our friendship and love for each other. This time has allowed us to continually stay in sync, and although it is early in our marriage, we know we both must contribute 100%. It also helps us to know that any problem too great for us to solve can be turned over to the Lord. The Bible says, “Greater is He that is in us than he that is in the world."

‘Trust the Process’ is not just a one or two-time instance. It is continuous and the motto for our marriage. The process never stops as we continue to grow. We have a joke that we are stuck with each other for the next 70+ years, meaning, we are not leaving each other; and if we are together, we will ‘Trust the Process’, God’s Process.

#TrustthepROSSess

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

Faith Is the Substance (Waiting on God)

Sun, 28 Feb 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Faith Is the Substance

(Waiting on God)

by Trustee E. Lynne Wooden

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”- Hebrews 11:1

“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven:” - Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

When I was asked to be a writer on our Church’s Fresh Fire BLOG, I chose to write about “Faith, Hope, and Love” centered on any given topic of the month. This month is the ‘LOVE’ month. You have to say it like Barry White or Isaac Hayes would have said it, ‘LUV’ with a deep voice! This is the month where everyone shows off their roses, chocolate candy hearts, cards, and gifts on social media. It is the month where everyone shares about the special dinners that were prepared for them or the awesome restaurants that they were taken to. It is the month where rose petals get sprinkled in places where they will later have to be cleaned up, sometimes dreams of an engagement skip yet another year, and where fabrications are better than telling your Facebook friends that your Valentine’s Day was simply AWFUL! This is what I must work with for the month of February.

I used to hate the month of February because after 25 years of marriage I became separated from my husband, and after 31 years, he became my ex-husband. You see? AWFUL!!! I lost my faith when it came to having a man in my life to love me the way God intended him to love me and to top it off, the method of dating changed drastically. Online dating. HUH? Well, God and I had to have a long talk. I was not understanding some things. I asked God some serious questions about this single life that I did not want to be part of, and I was not settling for anything less than what God wanted for me. God gave it to me straight one Sunday when I was listening to a sermon with my daughter while visiting her.

This is what I heard God say to me on this beautiful Sunday afternoon some years ago. God said to me that when He made man, there was no suitable helper for man, so God put him into a deep sleep, removed his rib and formed a woman. My finite, writer’s mind tells me that man may have been put into a deep sleep so that he would not interfere with what God was doing concerning his ‘help meet’. Adam may have had to be put into a deep sleep to be shown that the woman is not just a reproductive mating partner, but her identity is that she is his ally; the part of him that is missing; the part of him that she completes. The two together can become more than either of them was alone. So, getting back to Genesis, God made woman from the rib taken out of the man. The ribs protect the vital organs found in the chest, including the heart and lungs and they maintain space in the chest so the lungs can expand and contract during the breathing process. A good woman sent from God will protect her man’s heart and give him room to breathe life into her world. Well, the Bible says that God then brought her to the man. Let me say it again, God brought her to the man. Ladies, we must stop going to where God does not take us. I am just saying!!!

My own lesson in this - In my singleness, I have learned to have faith in God’s process. I have learned to wait on the Lord for my missing part created just for me. I purposely choose abstinence as a big part of this process. Abstinence from all the things that would make me have to tell it to God in my prayers of forgiveness. When this man looks at me, he will know that God created me just for him, and I will know that he was sent by God because he will be a breathtaking reflection of God’s own heart. Men and women are designed to complement one another.

He will already know what God meant when He said, “A man who finds a wife finds a good thing”. He will know he has found that ‘good thing’ because in the meantime, I will be working on God’s Temple, inside and out. In that way, this activity will give me less time to ponder on what I am waiting for and more time to work on the things that are making me that ‘good thing’. He will be on God’s GPS (God’s Positioning System) moving toward what God has for him, me. He will be a man who is spiritually sound as he walks with God. He will know that God created me just for him and he will love me past his mind and heart, to that space where only God and I dwell.

Single ladies, we are not only blessed, but divinely favored and loved by God. Let us stop praying for natural, superficial, and worldly things in the man that we want to find us. Try this supernatural, spiritual prayer that I pray every now and then. It goes like this:

“Dear Lord,

I pray for my future husband. I pray for his heart. May You continue to mature him and reveal Yourself to him in mighty ways. I pray that he will love You passionately. May You and he have an incredibly deep relationship. I pray he is willing to open his heart to You. I pray he comes to You in prayer and is vulnerable about the things he is facing in this life. I pray he relies on You for help and guidance. Fill him with Your wisdom. I pray for a blessing over his heart. I also pray for protection. Please remove any temptations or evil that might attempt to cause him hurt, to fall, or turn from You. Guard his heart and cover him with Your peace. If there are any situations or circumstances that cause him pain, I pray that You would heal him. Make his heart whole. I pray my future husband would have a strong understanding of who You are and how You are moving in his life. I pray his heart is full of discernment and is sensitive to Your Holy Spirit. I pray that he is willing to address his emotions and does not push them away. Soften his heart so that he is always willing to yield to You in humility. I also pray that he would embrace all that You have for him and that he is passionate to serve You joyfully. May You continue to experience intimacy with him. I pray he loves You with all his heart, all his soul, all his mind, and all his strength. In Jesus’ Name, AMEN!

See, there is nothing superficial like good looks, money, fame, ‘me’ prayers, etc. Seek for your husband, “The Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.” Matthew 6:33. God does hear the prayers of the righteous. His Word says so. When God sends your husband to you because of a faith-filled prayer, Girllllll!!! Be Blessed, be a Blessing and Wait on God. He knows what He is doing!

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

When COVID-19 Came My Way

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

When COVID-19 Came My Way,

by Sara Glaze

It felt like it was only yesterday that I was diagnosed with the Coronavirus. Excited for my crafted course schedule, stable* in my social life, attune with creativity and desire to strive; one day I woke up with chills and fever. Little did I know that these symptoms would shape the coming months and possibly my future.

My appreciation for science led me to take precautions surrounding the pandemic seriously. I frequently informed myself of updates from the CDC and guidelines from my state and county. Being only 21, I felt ambiguous toward being a part of a scientific history and negative unforeseen consequences for our world. Even so, my unfamiliarity surrounding the ethereal “pandemic” had little to no significance to me; I never imagined it would ever touch my lifespan.

Unlike, most young adults, my ego was not built on the supremacy of youthfulness. While some friends who resided in warmer pretentious institutions were barhopping, mask less, carefree, I chose to withdraw from similar events. A roommate and I connected with our shared weakened immune systems and our concern for the importance of a COVID free dwelling. Together, we created a lose set of rules for the other tenants to hopefully follow. While the statistics remained steady and newly enforced protocol regressed, many Americans relaxed their COVID obsessions, and embraced a more liberating lifestyle. For my roommates, this meant obnoxious random gatherings of up to 30 people. But this was not uncommon, in fact, this neglectful attitude was shared amongst undergrad students.

Still, I did not conform to this recklessness. I respected my and the health of others. As classes announced their transition to a “zoom” semester, the individualistic class setting left for ample self-reflection or loneliness. While I tried to limit my interactions with friends, I “fell’” weak to a few appealing party invitations from my best friend.

One night, we traveled to Rowan University for a house party. When we arrived, the cops were already there ordering people to disperse. Of course, we ignored their recommendation and waltzed in. The basement lights were dark and collided arms were sweaty. The darkness brilliantly hid the size of the population, and I found comfort in that. We broke a lot of COVID laws that night, bouncing from party to party. After arriving home, my usual nap turned into hibernation.

I awoke with flu-like symptoms which I ignored. It was not until the fifth day that fell intensely ill. I lit a candle which smelt of nothing and spicy ramen that resembled buttered noodles. Standing up was a struggle. My bones and chest were screaming for me to return to the fetal position in my bed. When I informed my parents of my symptoms, they urgently instructed me to get tested. By this time, COVID test were scarce. Three days after enduring the most awkward, uncomfortable exam ever, I received my result: Positive. I was advised to remain in a sick room for 14 days, take three or more showers a day, eat nutritiously, and take Tylenol as needed. I resented myself for my lawless behavior, grew increasingly lonely and lethargic. I missed my sense of taste and smell, but most importantly, my mom and dad. I felt like a leper.

I constantly questioned God and how my non-believer friend entered the weekday ailment free, while I suffered in isolation. At random times, I found joy in the numerous messages and phone calls of empathy from my church family. In brief moments of connection with God, I was reminded of the one who shaped me and the wondrous intricates that He so carefully crafted.

Romans 5:3-4, “But we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope."

No one knows the mind of God, except for God himself. He is infinite; we are finite. We are constantly reminded of God’s creations. Every minuscule detail about his people, time, and space has ben has been calculated to God’s understanding.

“He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. Great is our Lord and mighty in power; His understanding has no limit.” (Psalm 147:4-5)

Believers and non-Believers alike may question God’s decisions. We must remember that while evil exists, His intensions are most certainly out of love. Suffering is necessary as our earthly world is imperfect. But God’s painful adversities are unique to our growth as His children. Most of the Biblical parables are surrounded in struggle and suffering and most end victoriously. God would not force us into a battle that he did not believe we could not win.

Encouraging Myself Amid the Pandemic

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Encouraging Myself Amid the Pandemic

by Minister Julie Husbands

Since the beginning of the pandemic – COVID-19, I had to adjust to a new normal – wearing masks, social distancing; I could not host my Singles Conferences; no hosting of our traditional thanksgiving dinner or Christmas dinner, for that matter and the list goes on. However, since I had to adjust to this new way of living, doing business and ministry and more from home, I decided I was going to learn to do things I love from home as well.

I encouraged myself via worship, on-line shopping for things I needed and even sometimes online window shopping - LOL; dreaming and planning to go certain places when the COVID season is up. It is unknown to me how long the virus will be around, but I have decided to THRIVE and not STRIVE. John 10:10 says, “I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly! The “they” is you and me. It applies to us all! So, amid this pandemic, I still hold the keys to encourage and motivate myself daily. I am not speaking about having a perfect day everyday by any means, but with the help of the Holy Spirit I can choose to set my intention to be encouraged throughout the day.

What are some additional ways I encourage myself other than the few mentioned above you might ask? Well, here goes. There is nothing like a good action movie, where a woman has the Lead Role. Her fighting skills are top notch, as well as her business savvy. Yessssssss! She is a Boss Chick, and she can protect herself too. I am also encouraged by my work. By nature, I am a problem solver, so within my business, I am encouraged every time I help someone accomplish a goal. There is nothing like that feeling.

Lastly, but most certainly not least, there is nothing like accepting a challenge to learn grow and become. In March of 2020, I invested in a Business Coach/Mentor. Oh. The journey I have been on. I went into it with one mindset and almost a year later, I am at a place where I wonder sometimes, how I navigated through my life without Community. A community that houses a no-judgement zone, love, wisdom and so much more. It is not like I do not have a tribe of friends with the above- mentioned attributes. For me it is about the fact that it is a Business Community, with folks from all over the world. It is so radical to me. It challenges me to keep going and growing, even on those odd days when I am not feeling like it. There is nothing like encouraging someone, but the feeling that overtakes me when I encourage myself. It is on a whole different level. It saturates, permeates and so much more .

This has been a season of believing and trusting in God without borders amid the pandemic, like none other. My desire is to bring a smile to your face and for someone that got a little weary, to begin to see, dream and begin again. Please know that this isolation moment we are currently experiencing is only for a SEASON. It is not for a LIFETIME!

We Are the New Thing

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

We Are the New Thing

by Trustee E. Lynne Wooden

“Behold, I will do a new thing, Now it shall spring forth; Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:19)

God always does new things, or “He makes all things new” (Rev 21:5). He never changes, but as He reveals deeper and deeper layers of the truth, His people experience aspects of Him and His salvation in brand new ways and depths. If you want to know how to say yes to something more, you must know how to say no to something you are already doing! God wants to do a ‘New Thing’ with His Church, and His Church is you and me.

To realize God’s plan and purpose for our lives and get to where God wants us to be, we should not do what we are not called to do; we should not be doing some of the things we are doing even now. Also, in trying to do what we are not called to do, the thing that is most important to God for us to do is not getting adequate attention, or any attention at all.

It is our turn to do the new thing that God is doing on the Earth. The new thing that God is doing is not technology, it is not politics, it is us and our desire to do God’s will. He wants us to walk in ways that we have never walked, talk in ways that we have never talked. He wants us to be His disciples and to make disciples (Matthew 28:19-20).

It is our turn to believe that we can do something different in the world. God is changing our focus from success to souls; to be still in His presence and listen to the prompting; from a listener and a learner to a Leader.

When we start operating in our gifts and God’s calling, they will make room for us. They will not only give us favor with God but with man

also. They will give us a spirit of ease in doing what God has called us to do, and the confidence to say no to those things that keep us from His purpose and plan for our lives. We will then be able to do exploits, to bind what needs to be bound on the Earth so that God can loose what we need from Heaven.

Let us allow God to do a new thing with us, His Church. Say to God, “Here I am LORD, use me”, and then experience the ignition of our spirits with God’s Fresh Fire in such a way, that our zeal and interest in God and His service will be renewed in beautiful, magnificent, and excitingly new ways! Shall you not know and experience His Power here on earth. Be Blessed. Be a Blessing, and Be that new thing that God is unveiling on the Earth.

In Thankful Praise: A Road To 100 Homage

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

In Thankful Praise: A Road To 100 Homage

by Debora Gossett Rivers

The Holy Spirit

The sun of God’s grace

Star of heaven, song of praise

Praise in the early morning

The power of God at sunrise

We are awake and alive

In this house of prayer

Our heritage became history

History became the fibers of the tapestry

Quilted squares telling the story of our spiritual home

That became a sacred security blanket

We are covered and protected

A constant beacon

The community touchstone

A lighthouse in the middle of the street

A safe harbor in stormy seas for members and visitors

Six shepherds have led this flock

Feeding the body and the spirit

Teaching the word encouraging scholarship

Guiding our spirit to remember the traditions of the past

To embrace the present and to prepare for the future

In praise and worship

There is sweet communion with the Lord

Our souls leap with joy

God makes a bridge

Clears a path to make a leap of faith

Prayer pinpoints the way

Vision faith and work

Purpose is not ignored

The path to divine success

The favor of God

The ultimate encounter

Blessed beyond belief

Divine opportunities from the use of God-given gifts

In burgundy and gold unity

We walk in excellence

Speaking life in all things

Our name is our history

Our name is our heritage

Our name is our purpose

We are Thankful

The Seasoned Believer’s Account of COVID-19: as told by Louise Rivers

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

The Seasoned Believer’s Account of COVID-19: as told by Louise Rivers

by Trustee E. Lynne Wooden

The Fresh Fire Blog reporters were assigned to ask people in certain demographics about their experience with COVID-19 and how the Pandemic has affected them. I chose to find out what a person representing our Nonagenarians (a person between the ages of 90 and 99) felt about the situation. I spoke with Mrs. Louise Rivers (who is 93 years young and was still doing jumping jacks until two years ago). Here is what she had to say about Covid-19 Coronavirus.

“This virus has had a devastating effect on me. It has cramped my style a lot. I am not a homebody. I like to be out-and-about.

I am a near recluse, anxious, and fearful of being a victim of this virus, especially since my great-granddaughter, who lives with me, works for Amazon (a large conglomerate).

I go for walks in the neighborhood. I wear a mask and gloves when I go to the market and I pray a lot. I now have time to call shut-ins and friends that I have not talked to for a while.

I am grateful that we can still worship together via the Prayer Line, Zoom, and Facebook thanks to the Tech team. I am grateful to Pastor Ross for his foresight and energy. God is faithful and still in control.”

How COVID Has Changed Everything

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Keeping the Covenant

by Mrs. Nannette Glaze

As we all know, approximately 10 months ago, the Novel Corona Virus began to spread around the United States like rapid fire. The media outlets began to report that the virus had spread into our country from China.

I read articles that said the virus began in China’s “wet markets”. The descriptions of the markets were horrendous, in my opinion. The markets were called wet markets because of the animal blood that pooled on the floors of the markets. Apparently, the practice of catching all breeds of wild animals to use for food was a cultural norm. The jokes we told as kids about folks of certain cultures eating certain animals was true.

The spread of the virus affected our way of life exponentially. The U.S economy was negatively impacted. Millions of employees lost jobs, business owners lost businesses. Schools were closed, hospitals were treating hundreds of COVID-19 patients per day. Transportation was pretty much shut down regionally and nationally. Public officials told citizens to remain inside. Trips to the grocery and drug stores were the only activity recommended. My last day in my office was in early March. I reported to work one day and was told to go back home. I have been working from home since then.

Restaurants, hair salons, malls, houses of worship, gyms; all closed. We could not get together with friends, or even family. My entire way of life changed, and this began to weigh heavily on me.

All the activities that were a huge part of my life were unavailable. I could not go to the gym and take my Zumba classes. I could not go to the hair salon. We could not go out to dinner, go shopping, to the office, get together with friends for our weekly meetings. We could NOT attend church!

This experience has been and is still difficult. The most uncomfortable part of the experience is missing church. I love my church. I did not grow up in church. We did not attend church on a regular basis as a child. I came to know Jesus Christ as my Savior as an adult. Before marriage, I attended a church that loved. However, when we married, we struggled to find a church that we felt was the right place for us. I longed for a church family as I had previously experienced. After we had a child, I wanted this even more. I wanted her to grow up in a community of people who looked like her and had shared life experiences a young black girl. I wanted to serve.

Finally, God led us too Thankful Baptist church. I had found a community at last. I found a place where I could serve. I made friends, had fun, worshipped. Our Pastor is great. All of this was taken away by a combination of COVID-19, and a President who failed to manage it the way he should have.

How the Pandemic Has Affected My Life

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

How the Pandemic Has Affected My Life,

by Charlene Canning

Today is a day that has looked like many others. With notable exceptions over the past couple of months, each of my days seem to be the product of some formulaic concoction. Most notably, it is amid an unprecedented and alarming news cycle. On a personal level, today involves staying at home and attending various virtual meetings. While there will eventually be a tomorrow that is significantly different, I have come to appreciate the reflection this time has provided.

The news cycle is one of many that has been either caused or exacerbated by the pandemic. If all the world is a stage, then Covid-19 seems to be the inescapable backdrop. It is the singular painting on the back wall at a low-budget, expectedly disappointing theatrical play. But is it a tragedy? For myself, it is a bildungsroman; a coming-of-age performance with little dialogue and subtle exposition. During a year with enough extraordinary events to last a lifetime, I found myself evolving over many days like today.

Perhaps most interesting about this year is that it was filled with opportunities that were only possible because of the pandemic. While news of cancelled internships continuously came in, my classmates and I looked for other ways to thrive. Some of us had articles published in the Wall Street Journal, others organized and facilitated protests, and more still were interviewed by publications such as, The New York Times and TIME Magazine. This inexhaustible motivation to capture and record our experiences was inspirational. I was fortunate to be able to rely on friends and family while processing some of the more emotional events. There were many twists and turns in each of our narratives and we remain eager to move the plot forward.

The breaks between semesters are often periods of reflection for college students. This past summer was no exception. If anything, the inability to venture outside with friends and spend time doing absolutely nothing in various places meant I had to spend a lot of time with myself. I had the opportunity to pursue a passion of mine while reevaluating my prospective life choices. This passion was funded by a research grant and took place at the intersection of law and economics. Learning more about business law led me to consider careers adjacent to corporate litigation and the different ways I could one day contribute to the general field.

As someone who experienced this epic slow down during a time in life when everything ought to be fast-paced and exciting, the chance to reflect has allowed me to further develop my own perspective. It is now one of thoughtful consideration. I have considered the many paths in front of me and have cast a wide net on where I intend to settle, while keeping my mind open to things of which I am not yet aware. As I continue to experience more and more todays in this life of mine, I choose to look at obstacles and turn them into opportunities.

Do Miracles Happen in Threes?

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

Do Miracles Happen in Threes?

by Steven C. Rivers

This story is based on true events. The names have been changed to protect the privacy of those persons involved.

James Simmons was “Philly Tough.” He stood 6 foot 5 inches tall and weighed 250 pounds. This was down from his playing days of 320 pounds. He was also a former Professional Football Player. Fear rarely knocks on his door. Pain is a constant companion. Toughness is a required trait for any professional athlete. You fear no man, no amount of pain can defeat you. You are tougher than any opponent. On this late February day, fear and pain had not only come to his door they entered his home.

One sentence from Doctor Christina Hayashi brought James Simmons’ world crashing down around him. “Mr. Simmons, your daughter has tested positive for COVID-19 - The Coronavirus. You, as well as everyone in your household must be tested promptly.” His concern turned to his wife, Layla. He needed to tell her their daughter, Rayne has contracted the Coronavirus and that the two of them needed to be tested.

MIRACLE #1

James and Layla Simmons both were COVID-19 Negative!

James was used to having answers especially when it came to his family. He was the judge, the jury, and the executioner. He always had a thought, idea, an opinion, a viewpoint. Today, James Simmons, “The Answer Man”, had no answers! He had spent 20 years protecting quarterbacks. COVID-19 did to him what many defensive linemen had not; it left him questioning his toughness. James’ attention now turned to his daughter Rayne. His baby girl, now 25 years old, was in the hospital, on a ventilator, struggling to breathe, scared and alone. The king of the castle, the man of the house, Husband…Daddy, was struggling to fix the family problems. He needed help. He needed to speak to his wife. James and Layla met while attending Penn State University. She thought he was a jock, and he thought she was a snooty suburban girl. Thirty-five years and three children later they were still making things work.

Layla Simmons was the rock of the family. James often called her, ‘The Prayer Lady.” If you had a problem, Layla had a prayer for it. James depended on his wife to make sense of things when he himself could not. As he walked past their home-office, James heard his wife’s voice. “The prayer Lady” was praying. The longer he listened, the more he heard a second voice. Mother and daughter were face timing.

MIRACLE #2

James prays!

James walked into the room and placed his hand upon his wife’s shoulder. It only took a second before Layla placed her hand on his. As James shared this moment of prayer and love with his wife and daughter, an odd thought crossed his mind - when was the last time you prayed and there was no food to be blessed?

Seventeen days later, Doctor Christina Hayashi informed James and Layla that Rayne could go home. What seemed like months had been three weeks and twenty-one very unforgettable days. The three of them walked to the car to go home. As the Simmons Family continued their journey, James glanced in his rearview mirror to look at his wife and daughter. He saw his adult daughter with her head on her mother’s shoulder. James had seen that picture a thousand times. He wished he could frame that picture. He heard his wife ask if everyone would feel up to going to Church on Sunday. James could hear a faint ok mommy from his daughter. James did not respond, but he could not think of an excuse either.

MIRACLE #3

James goes to Church!

Five Days later, James, Layla and Rayne attended Church together. As they walked up the pathway, James was reminded by the Church sign, today was Communion Sunday. They had much to be thankful for. The cracker and grape juice appeared so small in the huge hands of James Simmons. He smiled in realization that GOD had given him everything he needed. He glanced at his loving wife and his healing daughter. The three of them were where they should have been… together in Church. Maybe, miracles do happen in threes!

From the Pen of the Pastor

Sat, 30 Jan 2021 05:53:29 GMT

From the Pen of the Pastor,

by Pastor Gregory Ross

“Let the people praise thee, O God; let all the people praise thee”. (Psalm 67:3)

Today, you will view something new, Fresh Fire, the Blog of the Thankful Baptist Church. The purpose of this Blog is to inform the congregation and others about God’s grace and mercy in the lives of our church family. Thank you to the team led by Minister Julie Husbands, for taking on a task such as this with joy and enthusiasm.

The inaugural issue is dealing with COVID-19. COVID-19 has had a major impact on all our lives. Personally, I was one of the first ones sent home from my job because I live in Montgomery county. I have been working in my basement since the middle of March. My heart dropped when I realized that we could not worship at the church. My vacation plans were scratched, Family Reunion moved to Zoom, and I have not seen my family in person since last New Year’s Day.

But there has also been some good. I get to see my wife more often than I used to because we are both working from home. I also get to see my son Evan because his summer Internship was virtual, and he finished his degree last semester from Temple University virtually. Since we could not go out, we cooked more, and I was able to lose some weight.

Finally, I learned how to use Zoom. Zoom has been a game changer as it relates to fellowship and worship. Many have embraced our current new normal and are making it work.

I miss my family. I miss all of you. But since I know everything is in the hands of God this too will pass.

Be Encouraged. Walk in Excellence. Speak Life.

The TBC FRESH FIRE Blog

Choose Your Weapon

Choose Your Weapon

My Self Care Journey – I Chose Me

My Self Care Journey – I Chose Me

My Independence Day

My Independence Day

Your Story Is Your Testimony

Your Story Is Your Testimony

Sunlight And the City Girl: My Personal Experience of Awe And Wonder

Sunlight And the City Girl: My Personal Experience of Awe And Wonder

Ten Year-Old Ears © 2014

Ten Year-Old Ears © 2014

From the Pen of the Pastor . . . Take Care of Your Temple!

From the Pen of the Pastor . . .Take Care of Your Temple!

From the Pen of the Pastor June 2021

From the Pen of the Pastor

Graduation Speech

Graduation Speech

A Daughter of Two Fathers

A Daughter of Two Fathers

Memories of My Father

Memories of My Father

Father’s Day: Diners and Other Days with My Father

Father’s Day: Diners and Other Days with My Father

A Daughter's Prayer (For A Mother’s Healing)

I am a Mother

The Epiphany of My Maternity

The Epiphany of My Maternity

Our Single Season

Our Single Season

Singles' Quote

Singles' Quote

A Mother’s Quote

A Mother’s Quote

I am a Mother

I am a Mother

A Mother’s Love - My Story

A Mother’s Love - My Story

What Do You Know About Occupational Therapy?

What Do You Know About Occupational Therapy?

From the Pen of the Pastor

From the Pen of the Pastor

A Message in the Garden

A Message in the Garden

Singles' Corner

Singles' Corner

Restoration Toward the Resurrection

Restoration Toward the Resurrection

THE Blessing of Pain (Restoration & Resurrection)

The Blessing of Pain (Restoration & Resurrection)

A Clean House

A Clean House

Spring Cleaning

Spring Cleaning

The Logistics of Sugar

The Logistics of Sugar

From the Pen of the Pastor

From the Pen of the Pastor

Guard Your Heart but Don’t Hold It Hostage…….

Guard Your Heart, But Don't Hold It Hostage

Keeping the Covenant

Keeping the Covenant

What Makes Love Last?

What Makes Love Last?

Trust the Process

Trust the Process

Faith Is the Substance (Waiting on God)

Faith Is the Substance

﻿ (Waiting on God)

When COVID-19 Came My Way

When COVID-19 Came My Way,

Encouraging Myself Amid the Pandemic

Encouraging Myself Amid the Pandemic

We Are the New Thing

We Are the New Thing

In Thankful Praise: A Road To 100 Homage

In Thankful Praise: A Road To 100 Homage

The Seasoned Believer’s Account of COVID-19: as told by Louise Rivers

The Seasoned Believer’s Account of COVID-19: as told by Louise Rivers

(Waiting on God)